Participants:
Scene Title | Hi-Ho Silver |
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Synopsis | Tumult in recent past doesn't keep one friend from coming to another's aid in a time of need. |
Date | May 11, 2011 |
Banks of the Hudson River - Ferry Docking Point
The docks are about the last place in New York City that Robyn Quinn finds herself with any regularity. Well, no, that's a bit of a lie, there's many places she would rather be less. But the point still stands that to the Irishwoman, the docks fucking suck. The air is always cold, the wind always messes with her hair, her scooter never seems to run right after she makes a trip out there, oh, and let's not forget the fact it's dangerously late in a spot where the Ferryman regularly transport goods and people to and from an island, so there's always the ever present worry of getting caught out here.
Isn't all of that just keen? Because Quinn thinks so. Really.
But these are the things that she'll do for friends, and that's why she's come out to pick someone up. And really, it's not as bad as she sometimes worries it is. As long as she's not stupid, and she rarely is. But she's hoping not to linger, to just pick up the woman she's come to get and head on home for the night. Or at least get somewhere safe, depending on how things go.
Rue Lancaster with her bushy black hair - now frizzy from all the moisture in the air from rainfall and water travel - and an orange sweater that's too warm for the weather - paired with skinny jeans and boots - doesn't keep Quinn waiting for her. Though she trudges from disembarkation to friend a little too slowly. And between the vibrant colour of her top and the bleak contrast of her hair, her face looks all the more pale. Sleeplessness makes dark circles beneath her eyes.
"Hey," she greets tiredly, a smile for a friend and former lover made no less genuine by fatigue. "Thanks for doing this. I'm just… I didn't wanna try to make it home by myself tonight." Then swiftly, Rue turns her head away so she can cough wetly into the crook of her elbow a few times. "Picked up a fucking cold," she assures once she sniffled a bit. "If I'm not feeling better tomorrow, I promised Nora I'd make an appointment with the doctor, so don't lecture me, 'kay?"
Quinn can't help but quirk an eyebrow when she finally catches eye of Rue - of course, it's the orange sweater that catches Quinn's attention, seeming like an unfortunate fashion decision not just for someone coming of a clandestine boat coming from a terrorist filled island, but also, well… just in general. But she keeps that to herself as she watches Rue approach, a bright smile on her face despite having to be out here.
It does dim a bit when she notices her sluggishness and her fatigue, though, turning right down into a frown when the other woman finally reaches her. "You make it sound like you got a lotta that already," Quinn notes, eyeing Rue. "You're lucky it's just a cold, with all of the shit going around lately." She shakes her head and sighs, taking a step forward, arms open - yeah, she's sick. So what? Quinn can spare a hug. "I won't lecture you. Just promise me too. I'm at least lending you some cold medicine."
"Promise," Rue murmurs, accepting the hug gratefully and snuggling up against Quinnie. "Mmm. You're so warm." And so is she, but she's shivering just a bit as though there might be some chill in the air.
"Do you have any cough syrup? That's what I really need." It's with a touch of reluctance that Rue finally withdraws from the hug. It's made worth it by the idea that she'll be home and asleep in her own bed soon. That will make everything just a little bit better.
"Just make sure you cough over there," Quinn says, making a lazy motion with her hand off in any direction away from herself. She shiver, the warmth, though, when Quinn lowers back down from the hug, her hands move to her hips and she looks up at Rue with narrowed eyes. "I dunno. I might have t' lecture you. Christ, girl. You're burnin' up. When we get you home, I'm fixing you some soup an' makin' sure you get t' the doctor in the morning.
It's hard to tell with residual feeling is active at the moment; whether it's the part of Quinn that still cares for Rue and still remembers her as her lover, or the motherly part that's risen up as of late because of Adel and Jolene. Either way, it can only spell certain doom for Rue. "Not on me. I have some cough drops, but if you want anything else, you'll either have t' come by my place or deal until morning."
"Aaaah~" Rue whines. "No lecturessss!" She groans weakly and hangs her head. "I'll call the doctor in the morning. I promise." She takes in a deep breath and then holds it, obviously willing herself not to cough again. When she's sure she won't, she weakly admits, "Soup sounds kind of good right now…"
"That's what I thought," Quinn remarks triumphantly, her smile returning as she nods at Rue. "You sure you'll be fine for the ride home? It gets really cold on the scooter, sometimes." As if Rue wouldn't know this, Quinn hasn't replaced her main form of transportation since before they met. "I think I have a hoodie stuffed in the trunk, if you want to use that for the ride to your place. I won't mind, I'll just make you wash it." She's still studying Rue, though not intently. Just with the worried look anyone gives an obviously sick friend.
"No, it's fine. The wind on my face will be exhilarating," sick friend assures. "I just wanna get home." Again, she turns her head to cough into her sleeve, promising afterwards, "I won't cough on your back." She then gestures to the scooter. "The sooner we get there, the sooner you can get me peeled out of these clothes. Like the old days." The joke is punctuated with a rattling sort of chuckle. The light never quite makes it to her eyes the way it should, leaving her without that sparkle Quinn is so accustomed to seeing.
Quinn lingers for a moment longer, looking at her friend worriedly, before she nods slowly and turns towards the scooter. She might be blushing a bit because of said joke, but she's not going to own up to it. "You temptress," she jabs back. "At least you're sick, I don't have t' worry about your siren's song." A chuckle of her own and a shake of her head, Quinn waits for Rue to pass her before she moves. "Do you have any hot water bottles or heating pads or anything back at your place? I can always heat up a few washcloths to help you sleep or whatever, but…"
Rue nods. "I've got an electric blanket, too. I'll be fine." She waits for Quinn to settle in on the scooter before she climbs on behind her and wraps her arms tightly around the older woman's midsection. "Hi-ho silver," she chimes, then buries her face into Quinnie's back in preparation for the initial lurch of movement. She's always had a little trouble with the start, but maintains she loves riding.
"I hope you're not sayin' that t' me, because you only said that t' somethin' you're ridin'," Quinn remarks, her own attempt at making the other woman blush, a wide smirk on face. The scooter stops up, and just as expected, it lurches. That lurch has only gotten worse over the years, too, in part thanks to the snow storm this time last year. Taking it to get repaired just never seems to stay on Quinn's mind long enough to actually get the job done. "Good, electric blankets are the best. It sounds like you'll be set up nice and snuggly warm for the night. I'm almost jealous."
"Good," Rue fires back. If she's blushing, it's impossible to tell for all the colour brought to her face already from fever. "You should be!" Then she falls quiet again to turn her head into her shoulder and cough violently. Not so bad that her grip loosens and that she may be in danger of falling off the back of the scooter, but enough to rattle her own slight frame and likely Quinn's some as well. "I'll be glad to be home," she mutters when they have to slow to a stop at an intersection.
And save for the rattling of her lungs, she's quiet the rest of the trip home.