joseph_icon.gif kaylee2_icon.gif

Scene Title Pending
Synopsis Kaylee makes preparations for future (or historical) adventures.
Date September 18, 2010

Gun Hill: Joseph's Apartment

Days stretch on, time ticks by second by agonizing second and the world continues to turn on it's axis. Life doesn't slow down for anyone but those that can manipulate time, while the rest of them have to chug along at it's mercy. It can be rather annoying for the rest of humanity.

Right now, Kaylee Thatcher kind of wishes that she could just speed up the clocks. It's given her way too much time to ponder what is coming and the fact that Joseph Sumter was coming along with her. A fact that seems to go against every instinct in the blonde woman's head. She's spent a good part of a year springing the man from mad scientist, worrying over his safety and watching him suffer through it from a distance. So as the days stretch on, so does her nerves fray more and more with worry.

That anxiety is what brings the telepath to Joseph's door with a pack held close to the chest by one arm, while the other knocks firmly on the door. It's looks much like a military rucksack that one would find in a surplus store, nice and roomy for traveling into the past.

Kaylee's clothing is picked for comfort, with her worn jeans and the soft, dark red mock turtle neck she's been wearing to stave off the coming fall chill. All that blonde hair has been pulled up at the back of her head, the tail swinging a little as she glances back down the hall, just a little paranoid… can't exactly blame the poor girl.

When the door opens, she's invited in, automatic consent as defined by a quick smile and a hand gesture out, palm clapping back down against Joseph's thigh as he leads her in. The dogs must be asleep, or maybe being looked after someone else for a time, because there's no stampede of skittery claws or big dog heads pushed into her hands, which is fine, because it allows Joseph to rope an arm around her waist as the other hand bats the door closed. It's a quick squeeze of a hold, broken apart by the time Joseph is moving further into the apartment.

They should probably go to dinner or something. Or make dinner. Maybe after they go back~ in~ time~.

"It's not go time, is it?" he asks, with sudden worry, over his shoulder. For instance, he isn't wearing shoes, comfortably bare foot in his apartment, jeans and a T-shirt, although he's probably made some measures of preparation that don't involve lying awake at night or checking to see if Lynette still exists.

Whatever anxiety she feels kinda dissipates for a moment when that door opens, a smile given and a peck on the cheek in greeting for the pastor. She could get use to that. Of course, the question he poses, brings it all back again and she wrinkles her nose a little. "No." There is frustration in that word — weary of the waiting.

The bag she carries is settled on the arm of a chair, held there balanced as she gives him a sheepish look. "You'll know… trust me." Turning her attention to the tie on the rucksack she continues. "So… I've been thinking," Uh oh, "and I had an idea." As the string loosens, Kaylee is able to reach into it and pull out of all things a kevlar vest. Nothing overly fancy, probably found in the same surplus store as the camouflaged bag.

Setting the bag in the chair, she clutches the vest to her chest as she turns to face him, "Call me paranoid, but I thought we could use something like this." The item in question is then held out to him with both hands, brows tilting up with that ever present worry. "You know… just in case."

"It ain't paranoid," Joseph comments, moving towards the nearest table and clearing it aside of stuff— writing tools, old newspapers, a couple of discarded books, and a little more embarrassingly, the debris of his lunch, a crumb strewn plate and half-emptied glass of water. These last things he picks up to tidy away, heading for the kitchen but talking all the while. "Considering the last lil' adventure you went on— " Crash, clang, glass and plastic put and neglected into the kitchen sink, before he's padding back. "— I ain't surprised."

Now he takes the vest, flipping it over to inspect, a hand pressing against the strange material that can flatten bullets and turn aside the aim of knives. "This best be for you," is added, in sudden suspicion.

"No. That one is for you." A hand lifts to forestall any protest, however, pressing the vest towards him. "Humor me here, Pastor Sumter." The invoking of his title — no matter how much he avoids it — is on purpose, summoning up the reminder of his more gentle nature. "I need to know you've at least got something to protect that big ol' heart of yours." The hand moves to pat his chest, even as she gives that cheesy line. The grin she gives him, says plainly that she knows it is. "Cause right now, we are so far outside my comfort zone, I want to tie you up, toss you in the closet to keep you safe. I am trying to restrain myself."

Taking a step back, the bag is retrieved and Kaylee pulls another vest out just enough to reassure him that, she won't risk it either. "And so you don't have to worry, I got us both covered." It's no protection from head shots… or bullets to the throat, but that's just a chance they will have to take.

Crow feet lines at his eyes deepen some at her sentiment, but only after she's confirmed that she's thinking of herself too, and not just padding him in head-to-toe hockey goalkeep protectiveness. Joseph puts an arm around her then, mostly to share closeness — mostly because this is new, and enjoyable, sharing closeness when they'd been orbiting in perfect gravitational distance for some several months. No disrespect to more recent flirtations of handholding and hugs, of course.

This is still new. His chin nudges against blonde hair. "I'm pretty sure our second outing together was takin' down Emile Danko, y'know," he feels moved to point out. "And I was on Beach Street when it got hit before. The only time I got shot was friendly fire. I'll be okay — can't promise the same about you, now can I?"

"I know." Kaylee admits softly, letting her head rest on his shoulder, if even briefly. "And.. I shouldn't worry, I know… but…" She trails off, not even finishing the sentence. "Sorry," is said instead, "you're right." It's a statement made with firm resolve backing it.

It's all still surreal for her. Only a week ago, she was still keeping her distance, now she can't stop touching him and time with him seems all that more precious.

Taking a step back away — reluctant to do it — so that she can take the vest from him and pull at the velcro. "I took a guess at the size." It's sheepish explanation as she rips another strap open. "So… I need to try it on you, to make sure" rrr-rip " I don't need to switch it out." Lips pulled to one side in a crooked smile, Kaylee holds it up, waiting for him to duck his head down just a little so she can slip it over his head and settle it on his shoulders.

Joseph takes a breath, one that swells his chest and raises his shoulders, before he lets it out in an exhale of concession. Okay. Okay. Maybe leverage later, and there is also pragmatism in the sentiment. Hands twitch in a gesture of sure before he's shifting to get the vest on, head tucking past the sturdy shoulder straps. A working thermostat means that he's dressed down to a T-shirt, so there's not a lot of struggle as he slips the kevlar over it, hands gripping at its rigid sides to settle it into place, its heaviness both annoying and strangely comforting.

Recalls, briefly, getting shot in the back with a rifle in these things, and the black and blue bruise his entire spine became in the process, and anxiety twists higher. "How's it look?" he invites, as he settles the straps and buckles with fidgeting hands.

And her she stands thinking about how she wished she had one of these the last two time she got shot, which where really not that far after each other. Lips press into a line as Kaylee pulls one of the straps, resettling it, making damn certain it'll work.

"I think." Fingers hook in the edges and give it a light tug, before the young woman gives a short nod. Resting hands on the edge of his table, she leans on it lightly, her head cants to one side as she looks him over. "I think I did good." Eyes lifting to meet his much darker ones briefly.

Only to drop them again, this time to the floor. "While I have you here, I got a question to ask you." The toe of one foot, scuffs a little the hardwood. "My granny called today, to remind me I owe her a visit. It's her sixty-fifth birthday and all." Gaze lifting to focus on his chest, "I was wondering if you'd go up there to Kentucky next month. At the end of it, just before Halloween."

Finally, looking him in the face again, Kaylee almost looks embarrassed over her own reluctance. "I mean… it's okay if you don't, only cause you and me," a hand gestures between the two of them, "it's kinda still really new and all. Hell, you might not be able to stand me by next week."

His hands are still fidgeting with the vest, although for all intents and purposes, it fits him fine. It would be difficult to not fit him fine, being a vest made up of adjustable straps and buckles. But by the time Kaylee has moved the conversation on, Joseph has also stopped fussing with it, allowing it to remain where it is for the time it takes to place his hands on his hips and listen, head tilted at a minor angle of attentiveness. "Well," he starts, with a disappointing amount of consideration, "guess that'll depend on what October looks like. Oh, mean—

"Sure. I can go with you. 's just with November comin' up like it is, and the things— we all seen for the 8th. The Ferry network might…" He trails off, black eyes going distant as he tries to consider exactly what he'll bring to the table in preparation for riots, fires, shooting FRONTLINE soldier-girls who have daughters. Sigh.

Joseph sets about undoing the straps to take the heavy thing off. "My answer is pending, how's that sound?"

There is a bit of a grimace at the mention of November 8th, eyes closing briefly against the flash of memory, but her head nods slowly. "Sounds like a fair answer." It's exactly, what she saw that prompted her to say yes to her grandmother. To maybe say goodbye, to her and Kaylee's mother both. "And… you're right. I didn't think about the fact you might have to stay here, being council and all."

Kaylee falls quiet as he goes about getting the bulky vest off, her eyes are on his movements and yet her gaze seems distant. Finally, the young woman asks softly, "You think we'll be able to change it… what was seen?" It's the first time she's even really mentioned it, at least her end of it. Colette's tapes would show Kaylee lied about her own.

Setting the vest back down on the table, Joseph scuffs fingers through his hair to right it again in about as absent and careless a way as one could ask. He still isn't really looking at her, even as she asks that question, reluctance making a line out of his mouth as he sets his hands flat down against the table, leans there. Silver chain at his throat makes glistening loops, crucifixes hidden beneath the thin fabric of his shirt, and a shrug levers him forward an inch, and back again.

"My visions were always changeable," he says, finally climbing a look back up at her. "Though sometimes they'd just smack you in the face no matter what, but usually only if you don' understand them. From what I hear, all've 'em were pretty darn clear. Makes it easy to dodge, don't'cha think?"

"Yeah, really clear and… protecting kids involved. Not sure if changing it would be a bad thing or not." Her tone flat, worry flitting across her features briefly, before her head turns to look at him as they both lean on the table in their own way. "I — wrote you a letter," she admits softly. "Just in case, it does happen… and I…" Kaylee doesn't need to finish that sentence. "Anyhow, I don't need it now." A smile threatens to tug at her lips, before she falls into a much more serious look.

Hand press against the table and she uses the momentum to straighten. Reaching into her back pocket, Kaylee pulled out an envelope folded in half, Joseph's name written neatly on it. She flips it over in her fingers, before setting it on the table. "Figure you deserve to have it now, rather then later." Her hand presses down over it. "Nothing you don't know now really… just my feelings for a guy, who I still think is too good for me. Probably really sappy, too."

Leaving it rest there, Kaylee shrugs, "Save it… read, toss it out, or even burn it." A glance goes too it, before giving Joseph a gentle smile. "It's purpose kinda went out the door when I kissed you." Cheeks coloring a little remembering her own bold move, that seemed to break whatever barrier they imposed on themselves.

Too good seems a lot less tangible than too young or too single, even if a wedding ring's been absent from Joseph's hand for a while now, since Sheridan, or rather, since Tennessee after Sheridan. There is hesitation in Joseph's glance from envelope to Kaylee, but allows a small smile to show. "Maybe I'll save it," he says, a hand out to tug the thing towards him without lifting it off the table, or making moves to unfold it. "An' read it out to you on the ninth.

"Do you want to go to dinner?" Putting voice to notion from a few minutes ago. "Not tonight or like— before this thing with Hiro and everything. After, maybe. Here, or we could go someplace. Mostly there's probably stuff to talk about. Beyond— "

A shrug. A shrug meant to connote everything, like time travel adventures, and the Ferry, and prophecy. Beyond all that, apparently, there's stuff to talk about.

"Are you asking me on a date, Joseph Sumter?"

Kaylee can't help but grin at the older man, a hint of laughter in her eyes, as she barely manages keeping a comment about if he even remembered how too, from rolling off her tongue and ruining the moment. Their age difference and the fact he's already broken in from a previous relationship, isn't something the telepath even thinks about.

Looking at him, that's not what she's seeing.

Instead, of teasing him about his return to the dating marketplace, Kaylee leans over and presses a tender kiss to his cheek. "I'd love too. When we get a chance to breath… if ever." A little wrinkle of her nose, a testament to how busy she thinks they both are. "It would be nice to have sometime to sit and just talk about mundane things like our families and childhoods… Stuff like that seems to get lost in the struggle to survive."

"It's important," Joseph puts in, agrees, a smile alighting at the kiss. It's nice. Female affection. Been a while since it hasn't come with bizarre emotional blackmail, or sarcasm. His hand briefly cards through her hair, roughing curls between his fingers, before the touch— and his attention— retracts. "An' I figure, if we have a chance to talk, may as well make an event out of it. So yeah, I s'pose I'm askin' you on a date, Kaylee Thatcher — y'can take it or leave it."

That gets an amicable smile, picking up the letter and moving away, finding a drawer to open, slip folded paper inside, and shut again with a definitive click of wood to wood.

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