milliways_bar | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

[oom: These are the sorts of adventures you can look forward to as the 2IC of a flying-spaceship-city in another galaxy.]

Lorne strides through the door into the Bar wearing a flightsuit, carrying a helmet, and looking like he’s got somewhere very important to be, and when he discovers he’s not there, he mutters, “Oh no. Not now, not fucking now,” and turns back to his door.

Which…isn’t there anymore.

His helmet gets thrown, rather violently, to the ground, and he slams his hand against the wall where his door should be. “Don’t goddamn do this to me now!”

The string of curses he lets fly is getting progressively more colorful as he goes.

Tiny-and-very-pissed-off!tag: Evan Lorne

[ooc: Open 'til it scrolls off. Warnings for likely pissiness of pup. It's likely he'll continue swearing for quite some time.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Jack rubs his back. "Yeah. Of course. Go have a seat and I'll get refills. Do you want supper, too?"

"Sure," Lorne says, scanning the room for an empty booth. "Whatever you'd like is fine."

"Okay," Jack says and starts to go, then pulls Lorne back and kisses him.

Lorne hesitates for a moment, mostly out of surprise, then kisses him back.

Jack pulls back and smiles a little. "That's better."

He goes to the bar to get them some food.

Lorne smiles a bit as he watches Jack go and finds them a booth, sliding into it.

Jack returns with plates of Real Manly Food: meat loaf and mashed potatoes and steamed vegetables, and more beer.

"How does this look?" he says as he puts the plate in front of Lorne.

"It's good," Lorne says, nodding. He picks up his fork, but doesn't eat just yet. "It looks good," he says again.

"Good," Jack says as he slides into the other side of the booth. He drinks some beer, watching Lorne with a slight frown.

Lorne takes a bite of the meatloaf and chews it absently. He sets his fork down and closes his eyes and scrubs his hands over his face with a frustrated groan.

"Sweetheart, you'll just have to make the best of it until the bar decides to let you out again," Jack says, placid.

He is selfishly glad Lorne will be around a while, actually.

"I know, dammit," Lorne snaps. "But I can't fucking do anything from here.

"Look, everyone I care about is in that city!"

Which is, of course, an exaggeration, though not exactly a gross exaggeration.

Jack looks at him and has a drink.

"Not everyone," Lorne amends. "But mostly everyone."

He has a brief flash of how much worse this would be if Jack were there as well and reaches across the table for Jack's hand.

Jack gives it, though he doesn't look like he's quite mollified yet.

Lorne weaves their fingers together and says softly, "I love you, baby. I don't know what I'd do if you were gone too."

"I'm not," he says quietly, "I'm here."

"I know," Lorne says, and squeezes Jack's hand. "And...I'm here with you for a while."

"I know you'd rather be there," Jack says quietly.

"Only because I want to help, and I'm...worried about my friends." He sits back and takes a sip of his beer. "Any other day I'd be happy to be here with you instead.

"They won't even know you've been away," Jack says.

"No, but I'll know. And I'll worry. And..."

He stops and takes a bite of meatloaf. "And there's nothing I can do about it, I know."

Jack eats too, not knowing what to say.

After a while of silent chewing, Lorne says, "How's the cabin coming?"

"We have a roof."