No Danger


quinn_icon.gif sable_icon.gif

Scene Title No Danger
Synopsis Events catch up with themselves as Sable pays a visit to Quinn.
Date July 2, 2010

Gun Hill - Quinn's Apartment

It's only been a few days, but assorted things already little the floor of Quinn's Gun Hill flat is already strewn with numerous things - some clothes, papers, a few CDs. The same decent clutter of last aparment, just far more spread out. Her black couch sits in the middle of the common room facing the window and rather large, though not exquisite TV, numerous DVDs and boxes piled along side it. A table sits adjacent to the kitchen area, but otherwise the common area is rather empty. Tour posters for The Delgados, Mogwai, and Oasis are hung on the wall next to a closed door, as if to indicate here be music. Adjacent is another door, half open and revealing several more boxes, CDs and notebooks spilling out, as well as a very simple bed.

Someone's in a good mood. It evidently only takes so long for Sable to emerge from ill temper, which is only fair, considering how quickly she descends into that ill temper when it comes upon her. But this may be a little overboard. Sable's actually sort of half-dancing down the hallway, her earphones over her ears, committing that cardinal sin of music listeners and singing along with what she's listening to.

"Y' don't care for me? I don't care 'bout that - Gotta a new fool, ha, I'd like t' laugh at - I have only one burnin' desire - Let me stand next to yer fire!" At which point she spins around and shuffles backwards until she comes up alongside Quinn's door. Knock knock. Knockknockknockknock. In time with the main riff, even as she tugs her earphones off and lets Hendrix's voice flow up about her head.

Music plays from within Quinn's flat as well - loud enough to be heard right outside her door, but not loud enough to drown out Sable's knock. As the current song dies down, barely audible whistling ceases and the door opens slowly, Quinn's dressed on a black and white shirt, with black jeans to match.

"Heya, Sable," she remarks, opening the door fully so that Sable can slip on in. "What's up? How's that little project of yours goin'?" Even as she speaks, another loud song begins from the computer back in her spare room.

Sable sneaks in through the door, clicking 'stop' on her CD player (yes, very late '90s style), out of deference to Quinn's own musical dominance in this space. She even bobs her head a bit to the beat of the next song, which in turn leads to a bounce in her step, and further into a bounce up to Quinn, who is pulled into a quick, strong hug.

She laughs, something lighter and brighter than her snickers and cackles. "Which one, eh? But all's fine, all's fine. 'n' you 'specially, hon. Got a glow to you." She bites her lip, utterly impish, as she steps back from Quinn. "I've somethin' t' relate, as pertains t' our discussion of just the day b'fore yesterday."

"I-Well. It's been a good last few days." Not a lie. Quinn's hands slip into her pockets, a smirk on her face as she moseys across the common room and to her couch, plopping down with a whump. "What do you mean, 'which one'? I only remember one project when you came around the other day." And at that, she quirks an eyebrow. "Huh? Which part of it?"

Too many questions. Sable's not concerned with such mortal fiddle faddle. She has news, and she'll relate it. Her projects, such as they are (and mostly, thus, in her mind), are her concern for the moment. Sable doesn't take a normal seat on the couch. Instead she bounds up onto the back of it, draping herself so that her head hangs near Quinn's grinning. "I've embarked upon th', like, tutelage 'f our fair mutual friend, 'n' lady love 'f our comrade," she states, with needless elaboration, "Just yesterday. Know how I spoke 'f moments, how the right one c'n come along, 'n' how y' can feel it?" She lifts a hand and taps her finger against the side of her nose. "I felt it. 'n' it was felt."

"Tutelage?" Quinn doesn't seem to follow, looking over to Sable with a suspicious expression. "She didn't mention any teachin' when we, uh… hung out last night." Quinn sits up a bit, tilting her head. Clearly, her mind is making the mental jump between the conversation the other day, and Sable's brand of tutelage. Or doesn't want to.

Sable's brow raises very slowly. "Uh… hung out?" she echoes, "Now now now dearest Quinn," she pushes herself up to a side, straddling the back of the couch as one might a mechanical bull, looking down at the Irish girl with a rare advantage of height. "Did you," she proceeds, startlingly free of accent as she enunciates clearly, "Mebbe have a moment of your own, hmmm? Did you feel it? Was it felt?" Which makes her previous statement a little more interpretable. "Don't you fuckin' tell me y' did 'n' let it pass," she grins, wiiide, "Tell me my lesson took. Please, oh, please, Quinn m' love."

"Your lesson?" And then it clicks. An amusing series of expression passes across Quinn's face. Confusion, surprise, shock, confusion again, and then annoyace. "You're fuckin' with me, right?" Her eyes narrow at Sable, sititng up a bit more straight. The music from the back room fades, having it the end of a playlist almost on cue, and now Quinn is just staring, attempting to analyse Sable.

Annoyance is wrong. All wrong. This is a moment of glee, of excitement. What's with the annoyance? Sable's instinct is to get defensive, or sharp. But the voice from her headphones has just moments before told her 'Come on baby. Stop actin' so crazy.' Which is advice she's trying to follow, at least when it comes to certain madnesses. So instead, her face falls. "Naw, hon," she says, tone one of hesitant concern, "I fuck you not." Which is a way of putting it maybe a little too close to the mark. "Did I fuck up? Have I wronged you somehow?"

"I- Jesus." She wrinkles her nose and sits forward, gaze on Sable. "I dunno. I kinda figured you wouldn't have a part in that, with the encouragement and given that you're so on the straight arrow now with that one girl, an' all. You wouldn't even sleep with me again, remember?" A low blow, one uncommon for Quinn, but she's inclined to speak her mind at that moment. She doesn't sound angry, but there is a notable jealous tone to her voice. No real bitterness, despite what she says.

"She… when I got home last night, she was asleep on my doorstop like a package or something. She'd been watin' for me so we could hang out. I'd been drinking after work, and we ended up having more drinks, and… I kinda brought it up. She kissed me an' it went from there." She furrows her brow, looking decidedly uncomfortable. "But I so wouldn't have done it if I'd know she'd already been with you. No offense. It's just… sleepin' with someone's girlfriend is weird enough. Addin' you into it is, like…" A look of consternation on her face, and she shakes her head. Any hypocrisy in those words floats right over her head.

Quinn makes a fair point, at least at the very beginning, in Sable's eyes. She visibly winces, as if the aptness of her statement her a blow. Though Sable doesn't think of it as low. At least, no lower than she herself invited. Again, the urge to defend herself rises up, but she presses it down. Quinn is not her enemy. Hell, no one is her enemy, save herself.

"It wasn't without, like, reason," Sable says, offering justification rather than defense, "Though, puttin' it as y' do, 'n' seein' as y' must… I can only say I'm awful sorry, hon. I… obviously wasn't thinkin' too hard," she gives a wan smile, "Clouded as my vision was by red-haired beauty 'n' all, a form 'f drunkenness y' know me t' often suffer from." She sets her hands on the back of the couch and leans down, hanging her head. "I was thinkin' t' do as the gal I'm tryin' t' honor herself did on Magnes' behalf, passin' on, like, knowledge 'n' experience."

Her head lifts and she looks Quinn dead on, a little helpless. "I meant no harm 'r offence t' you, hon, 'n' I'm proud y' dared t' take yer chance," another smile, hopeful, "'n' don't you dare tell me y' regret it. No fuckin' way that could be so, as y' now know I know, knowing fair Elaine as now we both do."

Quinn stares at Sable for a moment longer, before exhaling sharply, sinking into her seat. "It's just really weird, lately. A lot of things are. I understand the sentiment, but… I dunno, it doesn't help that feeling. I mean, I totally slept with a dude's girlfriend based on second hand information, and that's before other awkwardness I'd rather not go into. I just…" She pauses, and a half smile returns to her face. "For what it's worth, she put whatever you showed her - I won't ask - to good use last night. That or, uh… she just a natural." She reaches up and scratches her cheek, that look of frustration still on her face.

"It was actually Elaine who made the first move. I made an' ass a' myself and started babbling like I do sometimes, and she just up and kissed me. I'd say I was too drunk t' do anything about it, but I can't rightly say that would have mattered." Quinn's finger now taps on her cheek, eyes narrowed.

"Little bit of both, hon, would be my guess," Sable says, seriously, "The girl's sly as hell. Clever. Inventive." Which is all the detail she'll go into at this particular moment. Blow by blow can be reserved for when the topic is more comfortable. Which Sable feels, in her heart, it must become. "I figure Magnes'll feel all his doubt ebb away once Elaine relates her adventures in a way t' set his mind, well… not at ease precisely," she grins.

Sable stretches herself back out again, feline, and rests her head on her arms, facing Quinn. "Would it soothe y' if I stayed clear 'f 'er?" she asks, "I can't say I'm eager to. In fact, m' eagerness is in th' other direction, somethin' I don't figure y' can blame me for. But I won't dishonor us, hon, neither what we had, nor what we have now. I'd do most anythin' y' asked 'f me, though there are some things I'd surely rather y' ask of me."

"Sable, I can't seriously tell you t' stay away from a guy's girlfriend so I can sleep with her. Well, I could, and I'm kinda inclined to, but I…" She shakes her head again. "This is the situation I was worried about," she intones quietly, her head hung a bit. "I like bein' around Elaine a lot, and I certainly wouldn't turn down another opportunity, but I… have to work somethin' out first." Vaugeness she knows Sable hates, but hopefully this time Sable won't get all rawr at her. "We don't even know how Magnes feels about all of this now that it's actually happened."

Sable's hand swings up to catch Quinn's chin, lifting it, refusing to let her head hang for any length of time. "I'll fuckin' tell 'im," she says, "'bout me. Won't say nothin' 'bout you, 'cept to say that I told you that he said 't was a-okay t' pounce 'pon his lovely little lass. So then, hon, the blame'll fall 'pon me, where it ought to lie anyhow, seein' as I was th' one t' stir both you 'n' fair Elaine into things. If that ain't overstatin' my influence, 'r nothin'."

She edges foward, like a caterpillar, and draws Quinn's face closer to hers, though it's a proximity of seriousness, not sensuality, unless she's badly misinterpreted. "Just you recall that it wasn't like y' seduced th' gal. She went about things clear headed, 'n' on the heels 'f an encounter with yours truly, so keep in mind that y' were respectin' her choices 'n' desires 'n' all when y' made yer own choices 'bout yer own desires."

Truthfully, Magnes isn't really whom Quinn is worried about offending or angering, but Sable doesn't know that, and she doesn't really think it's the appropriate time to voice it. That'll just make things weirder. "You're assuming Elaine's not gonna tell him once she sees him. I would be surprised if she didn't both t' tease him and as a measure of trust." Quinn shrugs. "I don't know, Sable. I'm… just going to see how this goes, I think. I think there's some talkin' that needs to be done, though."

Sable releases Quinn's chin and lets her arm fall, lying limply on the back of the couch. She smiles, fondly. "Yer a rare 'n' beautiful creature, darlin' Quinn," she says, "Don't you go worryin' yerself int' early old age, arright? 'n' know that there ain't nothin' but love f'r you in any 'f our hearts." She means Elaine, Magnes and herself, of course. Any exterior parties are considered effectively irrelevant.

Quinn sighs and nods, a smile on her face. "I know. It's been like that since we all met. And I love you guys so much for it. I guess that why I'm so paranoid about somethin' fucking it up." She laughs, and shrugs. "Maybe I'm just overthinkin' things." A little bit of irony that slips over her head. "Just… a lot of things I'm not used to lately."

"Fuckin' tell me about it," Sable says, with a snicker, "What earthly force could compel me t' have made any goddamn decision not t' be upon you at this moment, eh? Yet here we are, you 'n' I. And there we were, just a day past." She grins, but it soon slips into a gentler expression. She reaches down to take Quinn's hand, squeezing it, "Ain't nothin' I c'n bring m'self t' regret, knowin' each moment that's passed was a step t'wards bringin' me here, t' be with you 'n' all the others. That's a feelin' I hope never t' lose."

With the squeezing of her hand, Quinn seems to relax a bit, smiling a bit wider. She tries to think of something to say, but instead all she does is turn, a plant a quick peck on Sable's forehead. "Thanks, Sable."

Sable's eyes close at the momentary peck, and remain shut. "Always, any time, 'n' f'rever," she says. Her grip on Quinn's hand loosens, but her smile remains. She looks awfully peaceful in this moment.

With that, Quinn hops up, eyes cast to her spare room. "Alright. Enough sulkin' and talking about this. What else is there to do…"

Only one of Sable's eyes creep open, tracking up to Quinn. "I was thinkin' 'f takin' a nap, t' be honest…" she says, certainly sounding drowsy, "Wouldn't mind in th' least 'f y' joined me."

"Sable," Quinn remarks in a chastising tone, rolling her eyes. Still, there's a grin on her face. "I know you too well for that," she remarks with her tongue stuck out a bit. "I could always work on somethin' music wise. Or maybe decorations."

Sable wrinkles her nose, "There's nappin' and there's fuckin'," she says, "And I ain't so far gone as t' not know the goddamn difference." She arches her back and lifts herself slowly into a sit. "You'd fear nothin' from me, hon. 'n' I think it'd show progress f'r us, showin' we can be affectionate-like without fallin' all upon each other. But, if I can't coax y'…" she gives a sniff, "I guess I c'n stir m'self f'r music's sake."

Quinn shrugs. "Really, I'm just not that tired. You're welcome t' join me for some jamming if you want. I've been practicin' with my bass lately."

Sable swings about and slides off the couch, landing on her feet with extended arms circling for balance. She walks around the couch, and gives a nod to Quinn. "Y' mind lettin' me use yer guitar, then?" she says, "I'd love t' jam. See if those new influence 'f mine have taken, eh?"

"Sure. Maybe we can put somethin' together for a song," Quinn remarks as she plants a hand into Sable's back, a playful attempt to force her out of business. "Just don't close the door, in case anyone stops by."

Sable arches her brow, "Expectin' someone, hon?" she inquires. She's just got to, when Quinn puts it like that.

Quinn chuckles, and shakes her head as she steps into the makeshift studio, bass taken in hand. "Nah. I've just almost missed a few people now 'cause I haven't heard the door. Ygraine suggested gettin' a light rigged to the doorbell, I'm thinking about looking into that."

"Jesus, Ygraine again," Sable says, with a huff, "This is a chick I gotta properly meet." She follows after Quinn, slipping up beside her and taking her by the waist, bumping her hip against the taller girl's. "Let's do this.".

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