milliways_bar | (no subject)

(no subject)

*Meg is in the bar. With coffee. Take that, bar!*

Clearly. The kind that's small and blonde and knows where you live.

*Meg's death-grip around Andrew's back loosens a little as she relaxes, slightly.*

And occasionally lives there with me?

On occasion, *Meg agrees, leaning her head peacefully against Andrew's collarbone.* For a while, anyways.

On the right sort of occasion.

*He looks around idly.*

You know, this looks like a nice sort of occasion.

Can't see anything wrong with this occasion, *Meg agrees.* Not that I can see much, seeing as you're sort of in the way.

*Not that she, you know, minds that.*

I could move.

*He doesn't, though.*

Hard to, *Meg says peacefully,* when you're weighed down by a ballerina.

--nah, ballerinas don't weigh all that much.

*A moment to readjust his grasp, and Andrew gets to his feet with an armful of Meg.*

See?

*Meg's eyes open a little wider in surprise, and she shifts her arms up around Andrew's neck, for a better hold.*

- huh.

*Andrew starts to walk towards the steps, then staggers a bit, then pauses and puts Meg down and clutches at the small of his back.*

--ow ow ow owie.

*Meg giggles heartlessly and lets go of his neck, slipping an arm around his back instead.*

Knew you couldn't keep that up long.

*Andrew staggers exaggeratedly and leans on Meg's shoulder.*

Oh, oh ow my back, oh agony agony, do you think you could help me upstairs?

I don't know, *Meg says dubiously, steering him firmly towards the stairs,* I don't know if I can take your weight without collapsing all over the place.

You're always collapsing all over the place.

*He does lean a little less heavily, though.*

*Meg aims a thwack at him with her free hand.*

Not always.

Okay, maybe twice in the past two days, but that was exceptional circumstances.

*They're halfway up the stairs by now.*

You mean they have non-exceptional circumstances here? I keep missing 'em.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only