Participants:
Scene Title | Snacks and 'splosions |
---|---|
Synopsis | The Irish pair are getting bored in their new, quieter lifestyle. |
Date | October 17, 2010 |
Miss Aphrodisia's: Basement
Downstairs, there's a little private set up behind a few locked doors, where the illegal goods are bought and sold. She has a locked cage in this room, where things are on display, but untouchable. Outside of the cage, there's a little sitting area with comfortable couches and chairs, a nice Persian rug, soft overhead lighting and a decanter set with some good, Irish whiskey. There's also a safe, but it is hidden from plain sight.
Separated from the more organized "show room" by a half wall is a small workspace that looks like an antique shop exploded. Almost literally, judging by the pieces of aged furniture and mechanical parts that are laying around, in various states of cleaniliness and disrepair. Heirloom timepieces, ceramic keepsakes, even a broken boudoir and a loveseat in need of refinishing are scattered about the space, crowded around a utilitarian desk of polished metal and finished wood, with an anti-static mat atop it. Carpentry tools are strewn about the floor, while more delicate tools, meant for dealing with electronics, surround the unfinished "projects" on the desk. The desk's few drawers are locked tight, as is a heavy lockbox tucked far under the desk, hidden in the shadow thrown by the moveable desk lamp that's attached by springloaded arms to the desk itself.
The wind blowing through the streets catches at windows and nooks among the building, setting up a low whistle that translates to a hum through the sturdy buildings. Miss Aphrodisia's is shut down for the night, its front doors locked and its occupants moved to the apartment upstairs. Or, one occupant, at most. Seamus is nowhere to be found on the second floor of the shop, though the doors leading down to the basement are open, and there's a quiet murming of music from down the stairs.
Despite the chill of the night outside, the basement is comfortably warm, stealing the heat of the day from the cement around it. A pool of warm light illuminates Seamus' desk beyond the halfwall, and the bulky man is hunched over a project, fingers working delicately at whatever it is. There's the acrid smell of solder, as well as the lightest of sizzling while he sings quietly along to the radio. "Taaaake ooooon meeeee… Taaaaake meeeee ooooon…."
And while he whistles while he works, so to speak, Lexington makes her way down to the shop and further down to the basement to check on things. Him, really. She's already in her pajamas, wrapped in a robe against the chill that does linger upstairs.
"It's a good thing you're in the basement, 'r you'd have the dogs and cats howling," she says with a crooked smile and a tone that's far more affectionate than her words. "What're ya workin' on down here so late?"
Seamus wipes some solder off of the iron, the hot metal hissing loudly on the wet sponge as he glances over at the basement door, smiling brightly at who he sees. "I was going to ask what you were doing down here so late, and not warming the bed of some drunkard. But with how homely y'r lookin', I guess I shouldn't be surprised." His eyes flick pointedly down to her bathrobe, though he sets the soldering iron in his stand and gestures Lexi over, pulling away from the desk.
Under a bright desk lamp sits his current collection of wires and bits: A small, simple detonator, by the looks of it. "Just thought I'd be prepared. Hoping that life will get a little bit more exciting soon."
"It's a new tactic, tryin' t' keep the men at bay. Homely armor." Lexington steps over closer to the desk, to lean on it and peer at what he's working on. "Ahh, I see. Bored, are ya? For years ya begged for the simple life, and here ya have it and you're bored. Men." She looks up at him, knowing better than to touch his projects like this, but the sight of it seems to make her smile all the same.
"Y'should really do somethin' with y'r hair then. That vibrant red is way too temptin' for any hot-blooded man," Seamus chides, leaning back in his chair to glance briefly over his partner in crime before looking proudly back at his work. He smiles, stretching his arms above his head, so his faded blue t-shirt lifts a little up his stomach. "Aye, th' simple life. Food in the fridge, a roof over our heads, and something to blow up every now an' then. That's all I ask, though the third one is fallin' mighty short, at the moment." Looking up, Seamus' eyes glint when he catches that smile on her face. "That's a mighty toothy look y've got there, Lexi. What's got you so chipper tonight?" He stifles a yawn, sitting upright and scooting in a little closer to her.
"Ah, alas, I'm attached t' the red," Lexi says with a little fluff to those locks in question. "Well, we could always find somethin' t' blow up. I hear that Staten Island's nothin' but trouble." When he calls her out on her smile, she straightens and affects an innocent expression instead. "Chipper? Who's chipper? I'm serious."
"Y'll have plenty o' guys attached to you," Seamus says, head tilting back as he slides in right next to her, readjusting his sleeves. She can see, from this close, that he looks pretty tired. There are dark circles under his eyes and…is that a cut, right at his hairline on his forehead? Looking down, angry red lines down his forearms are hard to miss. "Serious as a robin in springtime," he says, jabbing playfully at her side through the robe, trying for a tickle. "C'mon, tell me what that seductive smile of yours is for, eh?"
And Lexi doesn't miss all those signs. And she worries. Of course, when Lexi worries, it isn't like how other people worry. When he comes in to tickle her, she grabs his wrist and slams it down against the table. She's not stronger than him, of course, but she's going for surprise. "You've been fightin' again," she notes, a frown on her face and her brow furrowing. "Seamus. Ya aren't bein' stupid are ya? Bringin' attention and whatnot?"
Surprise works. Not to mention that Lexi is one of the few people in the world who has an easier time overpowering Seamus. No matter how many times she hits him, he never seems to be expecting it from her. "What? No I haven't! Well…" Seamus looks down to his arms, frowning at those scratches like he's just noticed them. "Not that I remember." Her chastising gets a brief glare up at her from under his eyebrows. "None of the fuzz have been swinging by our door, have they? I haven't been wakin' up in handcuffs. We're fine. You know me, Lexi. I can take care of m'self, even when I'm blind drunk." He takes her hand, pulling it away from his wrist, and gives her hand a squeeze. "Was probably just some drunk I ran into at a bar, decided he wanted t' try an' take down th' biggest and baddest sumbitch there, eh?
"We've got a good thing goin' here," is her entire response at first, but when he takes her hand, there is a softening about her, even if she tries to cover it with a wry look. "And when he was done with that guy, he had ya f'r dessert, is that it?" Her other hand goes to her hip and she shakes her head lightly. "Did ya at least clean out those scratches?"
Seamus snorts at Lexi's remark, glaring bitterly at her even while her smart mouth makes him grin. "I swear, ever since Linderman gave you your own store, y've gotten t' be too big f'r yer britches, little lady." Tugging on her wrist, he swings his hand in a swat at Lexi's behind. Her question distracts him though, and he frowns against at his arm, holding them up to the light. "Dunno. If they're not infected by now, they're probably fine."
"I dunno, they feel pretty roomy t' me still," Lexington says with a crooked smile that only leaves her face as she yelps for that swat. And then she turns to swat at him a few times, but more in the arms and chest region. "Goodness gracious, if my Da was here, ya'd have the shotgun on ya, ya know that?" They're really not supposed to talk about her dad and his dad, but it just comes out. But she huffs, her hands going to her hips as she looks over at him. "Can't even remember who ya fought with? 'r which bar it was? Some place we can't go back t' without more scratches?"
"Well, if he's not around t' keep ya in line, then…" Seamus starts, though quickly trails off, realizing the topic of conversation they're on. He releases her wrist, sitting back in his chair with a frown on his face, running his hands back through his shaggy hair. Her question gets a long shrug from him. "Search me. Though if all I got is a scratch and a headache, I'm guessin' th' night weren't too bad. Betcha any place we go back to, they'll know not t' give me trouble again." And there's that smile, full of bravado again.
"I'm sure that's exactly what they'll know," Lexi says with a dry expression and tone. "I just worry. I don't… want to go on the run again." She admits this with a heavy sigh as she perches carefully on the edge of his desk. Not to disturb his work.
"Hey hey hey now, none of that here, okay?" Seamus leans in, reaching past Lexi to carefully brush his work a little farther away from where she sits. Can't be too careful. He stands up, the protective instincts kicking in as he settles two heavy hands on her shoulders. "We're not running again." He could club someone to death with the weight of the conviction in his voice. "I promise you that, okay? I'm not gonna put y' through that again. We're here, we're settled, we've got a good thing going. I kept y' safe this whole time, didn't I?"
Lexington looks up at him, her expression sad at first, one of those few times she really lets herself think about the course of their life so far. But, she does nod at his words, leaning on that conviction. "Ya did. Through a lot've bad. I guess I'm lucky I had someone stuck with me." She guesses. Her smile comes back, though, if a little less broad. "And I wasn't goin' t' sit on anything important, Seamus, for the love've christ," she notes with a nod toward his work and where he scooted it to.
"You guess," Seamus says with a small smirk, squeezing her shoulders. For a moment, he's about to hug her, and he pauses…then just gives her shoulders another squeeze. "You're lucky you're livin' with a guy who's as bloody stubborn as you are." When she nods back to the detonator, he lets out a slow breath. "Well, th' thing about this type of detonator is y'got t' be careful. Even a little static electricity can set it off. Now, I wouldn't be worryin' about this if y' had a normal sized rump, but your Hindenburg can throw off sparks when rubbin' over a table. I've seen it."
And there's such a nice smile on her face, too, right up until those last words. And then she scowls at him, although playfully as he can tell, and she gives him a shove to his chest. "You're just bound and determined t' end the night with more scratches on ya, aren't ya?"
Seamus lets out a roar of laughter as Lexi shoves at his chest, staggering back a halfstep. "I call 'em like I see 'em, lass. Don't blame me f'r speakin' the truth, aye? What, y'gonna get on me f'r sayin' th' sky is blue, next?" Yeah, he's loving this.
"I'll have ya know, mister gentlemen, that the sky's been a dull grey all day. So there." Lexi stands up off his desk and turns to stick her tongue out at the detonator, for the hand it had in all this. "And I was goin' t' offer ya a midnight snack, but I think I just changed my mind."
Snack? Seamus perks up, and leans in with one hand leaning on the bench beside Lexi. "Midnight snack, y'say? Y've got my attention now, lass. Tell me more about this mythical sustenance."
"Well, if ya can make it up to the apartment without insultin' me, maybe you'll find out." Lexi eyes him teasingly there, like she knows he won't be able to resist, and then turns to head back toward the stairs, letting him decide to follow or not.
Seamus wrinkles his nose as Lexi heads off, lingering back to flick off his soldering iron. As she gets to the stairs, there are two arms wrapping around her, lifting her off her feet. The girl is spun and thrown over Seamus' shoulder as he starts to job up the stairs. "Well, let's make it quick then, b'fore your mouth gets the better of you, and I just hafta retort. Hup hup hup!" He 'hups' his way up the stairs, with his beautiful "sister" draped over his shoulder, his arm across the back of her thighs, and a big smile on his face.