Gabriel (
lotsoflaughs) wrote in
spncentral2015-04-02 05:57 pm
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Entry tags:
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- gotaspark,
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- tryingitall,
- walksamongyou
TFLN
Catch-all post for threads on TFLN interrupted by captcha.
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"Oh, shut up." Jo was looking over her shoulder, smiling.
"Some of us actually have to put effort into this life."
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"No," she laughs, and bumps into his arm, on purpose, even if it makes things skitter a little. "You don't."
Even if it was more true than false. There was a type that stayed here, and there was a type that didn't, and usually that at least started on level with still able to run for your life if and when needed. But it wasn't like any of them found time for a gym. The grace of god, a few good bar fighters, and training where and when you were even lucky to get it, and Jo knew she'd been lucky with the exposure she got growing up. Because it wasn't out here on the empty road.
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"It's a whole brand new way for people to get in their steps while saying oh God, oh God." What. She watches terrible, late night, tv like the rest of the world. There's only so much to do in defunct little towns. Even blood-sopped up Pleasantville's, and they weren't all this. Boring and closed up before dinners should ever.
"This is me." Jo said, with a mock flourish at the door with a crooked metal 6 where the second nail had escaped.
It's a turn of keys and she pushing the door open, on the dark room, and flipping a switch.
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It's tragic. She shouldn't love doing that. But she does. It might even be a bit amusingly terrible. She closes the door behind Gabriel coming in, back against it, when she can't help a small laugh. She doesn't stay there. Trailing across the room toward him.
"Stop talking about the pizza. Seriously. The only person not done with the pizza right now is you."
The only thoughts Jo had about the pizza and the pizza box was that it was currently taking up two feet of space that she might have a better idea for the use of if it weren't currently where it was. Which shouldn't be so easy to think, with the door closed and the world cut off, but somehow it is.
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Then he's flitted right in front of her, looking down slightly with a grin. "Pizza's put away, so happy now?"
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It shouldn't fit. These places only come with mini-fridges and halves at best. She shouldn't be amused, but she is, even when she's not surprised in the slightest somehow either. That he doesn't have to fight with the box or the fridge. Or. Well. Anything. Angel. It just makes her smile, oddly, crossing the space left toward. "Yes."
"Are you?" Jo raised a hand, with a gesture toward pretty much everything to her side. The wall, the lamp, the table, the chairs, the bed. Even though she doesn't look at any of those things, or anything at all, in fact, except him. "You got me home all safe and sound from the terrible, scary bar that I, obviously, never could have walked home alone from."
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"Hey, you never know. A cat might have run right out in front of you, not giving you enough time to evade and crushing the box of pizza under you. Along with shattering your vodka bottle so you wouldn't even have anything to drink in toast to the dead pizza." Entirely deadpan.
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"You are so bad at this." Jo chastised, even as she was grinning.
If her heart picks up a little, or maybe even a lot for a second there, when she decides to reach out and find the edges of his jacket and pull him toward her, maybe she hopes it just doesn't show, doesn't make her smile flicker even for a second, when she tilting her head and still talking. "So, let me get this straight. You've saved me from a bar, a bottle of vodka, a cat, and a dead pizza in your head now?"
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If it goes to her head a little, it goes quickly. Smooth and slippery like everything else in her head, when he's still on it and she still can't stop herself from being amused. Incredulously so. She can tell herself that might be the vodka, but it's such a transparent lie at this second, when her hands slide up the edges of his jacket, until her fingers can curl at the front corners of his collar.
"Maybe. Maybe not." -- when she can pull on that part of his jacket. "But I think I'd rather light something else on fire right now." Because, honest to God, his mouth is problem. All of the words, all of the way he is smiling, and all of the way that she has to kiss him now, before whatever next terrible set of words or smirk comes out, because she does wants all of them.
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Can't. Doesn't want to. Her hands finding the sides of his neck, and ending halfway into that hair.
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It's gone. Very suddenly gone, and you know it's not like she hasn't seen Gabriel appear and vanish from nearby her often enough, or not seen him do the same with things from times to time. But it is something that had been right against her, and it's so very suddenly gone entirely. It's still somehow a surprise. Clothes do not generally disappear in that kind of fashion, ala thin air and not onto a floor, or chair, or second bed, in her bedroom. Ever.
It makes her snort lightly, holding from him half-a-second, half-a-step, hands dropping to his shirt, to actually sort of appraise that whole idea and just that it really is that, before she's right back there. "Convenient."
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Which is her cue to tell him if she wants all clothes gone right that moment and out of the way.
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It's not like there isn't a tempted moment, and as if there were anyway her eyes don't wander from his face, down the row of buttons on his shirt and further. Shameless all the way down, and all the way right back up. She's not sure anyone could really say they wouldn't think about it, if it was laid on a platter.
Not that it isn't either way, which maybe stays in the smiles that doesn't leave her lips. "Noted."
As much as it's there, an option, and she does impatient. She does. Well, and often, and more than not. Maybe she isn't there quite yet right now. It's not like she didn't just lead the deep end of the pool, so far out it might as well be the bottom of the ocean, back into her room. That this is even actually happened at all, just to this second, is going to just keep catching up.
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That much is easy, even if she has to let go again, raise her hands up, and help, grabbing handfuls of her shirt of the arm and shoulder-to-back part of it, to just pull it over her head and off. Just letting the thing fall wherever it ends up. The cold air of the small hotel room nipping at her skin. There's a small shiver, but it's hardly something she pays attention to, when she's reaching out and starting on the buttons of his shirt.
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Which would be Gabriel without his shirt, and if there's was anything she pictured before that would never be admitted to, it was blistered away at this point. Shoes being gone, she can give or take, the ease or the figuring it out, but there's an absolutely inability not to get her hands on his skin, and maybe. Maybe there was a different thought, before her palms are flat on his skin and she pushes him further back toward the bed, instead.
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