His Special Ones by Orin Drake It's... something, alright.
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Chapter 3 Nick had left her alone in the kitchen for a short time to take a shower himself. It wasn't as if he had to worry about her going through his belongings... not that he knew that. Nor did he likely know her lovely foster home past, otherwise... Eh. Didn't matter. She poured herself another cup of coffee and stood at the window, gazing at the landscape. It was... amazing. She quickly understood why hermits decided to live in the woods. Though she preferred electricity and hot water, herself. The unnatural quality of his voice somehow stayed with her. Being alone and a little more able to reflect, she pondered it... and yes, it was quite frightening in its own way. She just couldn't imagine it, what probably happened at the hands of the Good Doctor... but then she'd come way too damn close, herself. If it hadn't been for him... "Don't think too much about it." He suggested, walking by from the bathroom and on his way to his own bedroom down the hall. Though his tone was quiet, the modified quality of it carried his words far. She turned to get a quick look at only his bare back and the towel around his waist before he disappeared too quickly for her to respond. Strange... But then, of course he'd known... he'd been through the same shit, only worse. Her thought process had probably been coming off of her in waves, especially at that last shudder as she'd been thinking about what might have been. Yeah. Good advice. Rinsing out the empty coffee cup, she took great care in placing it in just the right location in the dish washer--after checking that it was dishwasher safe, of course. What an awful thing to have ruined something so early in her stay. With a sudden sense of curiosity overload, she decided to meander into the bedroom she'd been sleeping in to take a bit of a closer look in the daylight. Not to snoop or anything... but out of the desire to know. And to make the bed. It seemed rude not to do that much, at least. Catching her tidying up a bit, Nick carefully snuck into the door frame and watched, not saying anything. Nice to see. You could tell a lot by a person in the way they acted when they thought no one else was around. And hell, she was making a bed. Not bad. It was almost enough to bring his old trickster self out... ah, it was enough. Loudly, knowing the sheer unease his voice produced, he suddenly asked, "Want some help?" Admittedly, she jumped--then turned like a martial artist and got into something he could only have described as a ready stance. She was damn good and ready to lash out with everything she had in her... until she saw a mixed look of panic and amusement on his face, his hands up for protection. Even though her heart was racing and the adrenaline was thick around her, her laughed. "Ah, you asshole. Scared the shit out of me." He laughed right back at her reaction, making a note not to do that again. She was little, but she seemed like she had enough experience (or rage, at least) to kick his scrawny ass. "Okay, okay. I couldn't help it." Still breathing heavily, at least she could appreciate the joke... on some level. "Get out." She ordered with no real intent behind it, unable to stop a slightly less than appreciative grin from being hidden. Instead, he stayed, watching her try to pull herself together with his hand not too subtly over his mouth, trying not to laugh at her effort. He'd really startled the hell out of her. But at least she got the joke... though he understood, having been a fan of devious practical jokes in the past, he'd have to watch his back. She finished the bed herself, letting out a joking curse once in a while as her heart slowed down to normal. "So... this place..." she started. "How'd you wind up here?" She still had questions. He considered that as yet a good sign. "It was an old farmhouse before my grandmother converted it to... a much nicer farmhouse." "Is it all forest?" she mockingly shooed him away from the door, finished with her "task". He backed up and followed her back to the kitchen. "There's one neighbor about a mile down the road. After him, the closest one is in town." One neighbor. How... unexpectedly nice. "And where's that?" "Ten miles away." "Nice." One more glance out the window... but it was noticed. "I've got a garden to play in." He suggested--only realizing possible undertones of the statement after it'd left his mouth. Dammit. He didn't want to freak her out... but then if he hadn't so far... Luckily, she understood it to be a poor choice of words and no more. "What, do I look that young?" she changed direction. Right before he opened his mouth to respond, she decided to try her luck by opening up her sick sense of humor, "Or is it just the best place to get dirty out here?" Only a moment of blinking silence seemed appropriate. "Well, you aren't naive." The smirk she wore did well to hide the real tearing of the sentiment. No, she wasn't. Though she'd recently learned a lot more than she cared to. "I'm not an idiot just because I didn't finish high school." "How old are you?" he more pondered out loud than really asked her. "Twenty one." She grinned with no self-consciousness. "I mean really." He elbowed her softly. For a moment it appeared that she just may hold up to her initial answer... but there really didn't seem any reason to bring that kind of shit into the place she'd miraculously ended up in. "Eighteen." "If anyone asks, I'll be sure not to tell them." He assured. Good though the mood was... he just got a feeling. "Do you have... anywhere to go?" Oh, so that's how it was. Yeah, it wasn't as if she expected to be able to stay or anything, but... so soon? Kinda sucked. "No. Not for a while now." He got the gist easily enough. "There's room here, if you want to stay." The offer was... quiet literally shocking. "We're... complete strangers." "Not so complete." He shrugged, realizing for the first time in almost two years how much he missed speaking to anyone. Beyond that... he enjoyed her company. No they didn't know each other, but... "It'll be like having a roommate." "Only I can't pay for anything." Money was like an impossible dream... He made a dismissive gesture. "I'm independently wealthy." An eyebrow raised. "Really?" The expression made him chuckle like a dying engine. "Food, clothes and the bills are all I ever buy. And you might have guessed I've got a bit of money in my family to have this place." Good point. "You don't have a job then?" He made a palms to the air, "what could I do?" gesture. "Unfortunately I was blessed with laziness, too." "I understand that one." She confirmed, taking another long look outside. "I don't want to be a burden, though." "I don't think you would be." He admitted. "But you will have to help with the chores." "Dammit!" she joked, hand over her heart as if wounded. "But first... I'm going to have to say that I need clothes that fit."
Having
agreed
to her "terms", Nick had gone outside to drive the car around
from
the back garage. As Ally heard the none too subtle roar due in
part
to a lack of muffler, she was taken aback by the choice of car--an old
Bronco. An old, yellow, Bronco. But then...
that
was one hell of a cover for riches, alright.
She
took
complete care of washing and drying the new clothes, along with
her
old ones in the hamper. Sure it'd been a while since she'd been
around
a washer and dryer, but it was mostly idiot-proof. She
hoped.
They turned out alright, though.
The
next
few days were at once entirely surreal, and astoundingly
natural.
She'd never helped out around the house because she had wanted to,
before.
She'd
discovered (with a great deal of misfortune, on her
part) that she was entirely able not only to follow a recipe with
barely
the need for a first glance, but had some sort of odd sixth sense for
being
able to blend extra ingredients. Hey, it was a slow beginning,
but
a steady one. |
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