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Well ain't this a coincidence?

And here I was thinking I'd have to start from scratch.

Lucky guy. First my job boss. Now my temp warden.

[ hear that grin in her voice? ]

I think you should give me a couple of days off.

Yeah? Sitting behind the counter too strenuous for you?

[Equally amused.]

You're working double shifts just for asking.

H-hey. Well, you're a fucking slave driver.

[ :| :| :| ]

Okay, what about a few bottles of good liquor?

Now that I can do.

Or let's just meet for drinks and I'll give you what I've got.

Shit, really? I can definitely meet you. Where?

Lounge is fine. I'll prop the door.

Be right there.

[ laura doesn't bother with a goodbye and gets herself up to the lounge in a timely enough fashion.

she peers inside and sees him. ]

[He's got a table saved for them, two bottles ready. Glass in hand, he spots her and raises one in a greeting.]

You know, despite being a slave driver, you win for being a decent temporary warden so far. Then again, I've only had one other and I think she disappeared.

[ she flops herself into the seat across and eyes the bottles to see what they were. ]

[Whiskey in one, vodka in another. He lets her have her pick.]

You let people in Goodneighbor hear you call me a slave driver, they'd laugh you out of the damn town, sister.

My temps disappeared on me, too. Two of 'em. So don't go getting any funny ideas.

Why? Honestly, and I mean this with no disrespect about your.. [ gestures at his face ], but you do actually have a face for one.

[ she glances at the bottles ]

Definitely vodka.

Heh. I've heard worse about my face. [He passes her the bottle.]

I'm just a guy who became mayor after seeing the bullshit going around and decided I needed to do something about it.

I don't run a tight ship. We help people who need helping...and we hurt people who need hurting.

Sounds like a reasonable set of rules.

[ she takes it and cracks the seal to unscrew the lid. ]

More than I can say about the Admiral.

What do you have to say about him?

[Hancock is always down for a good bitch session, after all.]

He reminds me a little of the dickbag god I harpooned. A smug bastard who knew he could pull the shit he did because he could. Used people and their feelings for others.

[ Laura's voice presents the intense loathing she has for Wednesday, words clipped, her tone short. ]

Yeah, that's the kind of shit I hate. People in power who use it just to hurt other people.

[He pours himself a glass.]

What happened to him?

The God? Oh, he's dead. Whether he stays dead is a different thing. There's always some fucking loophole when it comes to resurrection. I mean I died a bunch of times and I'm here.

[ she pulls her glass over and pours one, too. ]

Have you?

[He knocks back the glass.]

That's some party trick.

Not nearly as cool as making a recorder out of a carrot, trust me. But yeah, four times? And three visits to various purgatory's.

There's more than one?

Huh.

[Another drink, though it hardly touches him. Being a ghoul does have its drawbacks.]

That because of the god you were with?

I guess so. Well, every faith where I'm from seems to have its own version.

[ she downs the few fingers worth in the glass while the second part of his question registers ]

The God I was with? Oh, that was Wednesday. Or, Odin as he tends to be known.

Yeah, don't mean much to me.

There were gods and such where I'm from, but there were crazy fucking people in the wastes who worshipped the radiation, too.

So it's all nonsense to me.

Good thing. He's one of those types that you can't help but imagine killing a thousand different ways.

[ for the hundreds of ways he fucked her over. ]

Doesn't make much sense to me either.

Yeah, I got a couple of people like that.

[He sits back.]

So all that to say that you hate the Admiral, hm?

I don't hate him. Just don't think too highly of him.

[ she downs the shot that she's been staring at ]

What's your take on him? You probably don't think he's all that bad given your a warden.

Eh, I'm used to living under the whims of somethin' I can't control or reason with. You get used to it.

Cheater.

[ grins ]

I'm not going to sell you out if that's what you're worried about.

[He puts a hand to his chest with a playful gasp.]

Now why would I think that? I haven't done a damn thing wrong.

Uh-huh. And I'm actually a fucking angel in disguise.

[ which she very well could be. the goddess of vodka and bad life choices ]

Will is starting to get used to the extra walking involved with having his border collie Jet now on-board, and it's probably doing him some good. He doesn't get nearly as much exercise now that he's not working maintenance, and now there's much more opportunity to chat about something he cares about- dogs.

When he passes by the cabin on deck 4 with the frosted glass windows at the top, he can see that someone's in. It's one of the few times he thinks about actually seeking out conversation, and- he realizes as he slows down that it's been awhile. Since before the memory thing. So he has Jet stop, gives the excited dog a 'wait' command, and knocks on the door.

Laura has had less than a handful of visitors over the time she's been on the barge and the unexpected knock at her door has her wondering if someone is lost. Upon opening the door she finds Will and her smile is immediate.

"Hey Tully," she looks confused before dropping her gaze to the unfamiliar dog. She gasps excitedly. "Who is this gorgeous new fluffy face?"

"Hey, Addy," Will says, a smile breaking through his usually somewhat dour expression. He crooks a finger on the hand closest to Jet and the dog starts doing 'tippy-taps' with his front paws, tail wagging and panting in excitement over meeting someone new.

Will makes a pleased noise at Jet not jumping up immediately and pets the fluffy head, telling him 'good dog'. He makes the 'formal' introduction to Laura- "This is Jet. He needs more walks than Winston. I saw your light on and- hope I'm not interrupting too much?"

Not able to resist getting on Jet's level, she crouches down and watches the two and she can barely contain the noise of being so utterly taken with the dog. It's almost enough for her to want one of her own, but there is zero faith in herself to be able to care for one.

"Not at all," Laura smiles and glances up. "I was trying to figure out what to do with myself. Do you guys mind if I join you on your walk?"

Jet bounces a little in place as Laura crouches. Will grins as the dog whines in excitement and tries to lick her face. Will makes a small 'hey' noise at him, but- Jet's just not nearly as polite as Winston. Hopefully Laura won't mind too much.

"Yeah, I'd love the company. Sure Jet wouldn't mind, either," he adds, mildly sarcastic. "Let me know if he gets too rambunctious, would you? I'm not sure what sort of energy level I should be aiming for on this ship." A lot of people here seem far higher-energy than those he's used to.

He offers a hand to help her up when she's had enough time with Jet and is ready to get going. "How's the ship been treating you lately, anyway?" He's not going to mention the whole memory thing, but he knows he's been rather occupied with getting it sorted out.

Laura doesn't mind at all. In fact, she can't help the giggle that escapes when Jet's excitement has her leaning back a little too far before she has no choice other than to fall onto her backside. She grabs his face softly in her hands and does what most do: encourage the behaviour.

"I can't," Laura finally manages. "I wish.. I could... but I can't."

But she is soon able to get back on her feet and while using the cuff of her sleeve to rub the slobber trail that went from jaw to forehead, Laura closes her door and waits for Will to lead the way.

"No less different than everyone else. Can't say that last round of fuckery left me wanting more."

Will grins at Laura's 'struggle' but is quick to help her escape from Jet when the time comes to get up. He thinks he'll take them back up to the deck- they had been walking up and down the hallways for every level, with breaks in common rooms to throw toys. But the deck is more open, and nicer to walk through besides.

Her statement has him smiling- but sighing- as they get on their way. "Yeah, it wasn't exactly kind to any of it. There was a lot in there that I really would've rather came out on its own. Or not at all. But- I think I put out any fires I had to." It could've been worse, he thinks.

Laura falls into stride beside Will and nods in agreement while she watched the dog in front of them with a soft smile.

"Right? Real life gets fucking messy and I tried to reason that no one's life is perfect," she opines, shrugging her shoulder. Hers isn't anywhere near being neat and tidy -- totally the opposite, as a matter of fact. "Last thing any of us needs is for someone else, and people we don't know very well, to see that."

All six of them.

Luckily, while she doesn't want to say that her memories ended up in the heads of people she hated, they still weren't people she knew very well. Even being on the barge for four months.

Trevor's doing his fight club tonight. In case you wanna go.

Didn't know if you knew about them

You don't gotta fight

I didn't. I can't say I've met Trevor yet either but a night at the fights? What girl can say no to that?

Meet me at the enclosure at 1 am.

Sounds good.

Keep your eyes open for a coffee maker.

well that do be the best birthday present I eer got

really?

[ yes she is pretty drunk. ]

Happy birthday. Don't make any texts you're gonna regret.

{ Yeah, he can tell she's been drinking. }

hmm.. too late

but it's okay, i will realize this tomorrow.

Uh-huh. You done death tolling enough to withstand a binge?

shh. don't be a party pooper. look at it this way, if i need to sober up, I'll drink coffee!

That's the spirit. Never tried it myself, but I hear it works well enough.

one way to find out if coffee here is potent enough to reverse inebriation. come get drunk with me.

Well there's an invitation I can't refuse, especially from a birthday girl.

[After Hancock's announcement.]

Hey.

Hey! What's up?

Just saw the thing 'bout Hancock. Wanted ta see how yer doin'.

[What the fuck is this genuine care without the push for sex? Not that he'd say no. But he isn't looking for a booty call.]

[ she goes quiet for a moment and reaches for a cigarette. ]

I'm okay, I guess. He made sure to tell me he was planning on coming back which Erik didn't bother doing at all. So. Guess I just have to trust that he will.

[ the sound of her repeatedly trying to get her lighter going can be heard in the background. ]

Come back.

[He gives her an extra moment.]

You wanna light?

Do you happen to be around the 4th floor at all?

[ meaning she would love it if he could stop by. her shift at the commissary isn't for a while, so she'd appreciate it. ]

Ain't that far. Be there shortly.

[Nice thing about deck 4 is it's pretty central, and it just doesn't take too long to get anywhere when you have long legs.]

-------

He appears at the end of the hall, walking with purpose but not jogging.

"I gotcha." Sweeney's already producing the lighter as he finishes closing the distance between them.

you fucked up my carpet
just fyi

consider it a gift. just like the ripped panties.

you're welcome

i don't want a gift
i want you to clean up your mess

i'll make a bigger mess, trust me.

[ now is she talking about the whiskey stain or something else.... ? ]

if you want to be a sloppy bitch thats on you
but this carpet costs more than the shitty beat up van you use to the food bank in

says the shit prick who got hard taking a dick pic of himself and posting it to the network. you know that's the equivalent of jacking off the women's bra section of the Sears catalogue, right?

[ her voice is unbothered. ]

you are
so
obsessed with me

if that's what get you off, keep telling yourself that babe

its so true
you're so obsessed and clingy its kind of annoying

[ her reply is typed but she quickly deletes it and eyes his last message. a smirk curls into her lips while she types something completely different ]

only thing I'm obsessed with is your shirt, which I'm still wearing.

Edited 2023-06-27 18:09 (UTC)

you're wearing it?

[ oh. oh okay. That's...actually really nice to hear. ]

well, yeah. i like the way it looks on me.

[ sends a picture of her in just his shirt, mostly unbuttoned and nothing underneath. she may or may not be teasing. ]

You know it's more than you probably make in a month, right?

Tell me... how exactly does that fucking matter here?

It doesn't
i'm just pointing out that you're stretching hundreds of dollars with your tits right now and you should probably take it off so it doesn't get worse
idiot

And take a pic

it's my shirt now, why do you care?

[ no pic for you ]

i care because you're being a bitch about it

pic

and being a dick won't make yours grow any bigger

you first. go fuck yourself

my dicks size is not an issue and you know it you piece of shit
go fuck YOURself

i will! and i'll get more out of it than the excuse you fucked me with the other night!

[ types furiously while she walks towards the elevator ]

fuck off cunt
you're so annoying
youll fucking miss this

[ he's going to send a pic anyway. He has way too many, mostly because he sends them to Norton on a regular basis. ]

and yet here you fucking are still texting me. you're such an obsessed loser. jesus, just ...

[ she arrives at his door and slams her hand on his door a few times. ]

Since a proposition is made and Laura is anticipating the evening to be a lot more exciting than just sitting at the bar drinking herself into her nightly coma, she gets them back to her cabin quickly enough and through the door.

Her cabin is modest enough, out of the late 70's though the furnishings are all mostly updated. She unzips the sides of her boots and pulls them off, dropping a couple of inches in the process.

Taking a swig from the bottle, Laura closes the space between them and holds it out to Shaw. Once she takes it, she crosses her arms and pulls her shirt over her head, exposing a sage green bralette.

Ah, straight and to the point: that Shaw can definitely appreciate.

"You ever slept with a woman before?" she asks, as she shucks off her own t-shirt (black, just like the sports bra she's got on underneath it). There's no real judgement to her tone, but if the answer is no, then that adjusts her approach (and, honestly, her expectations) somewhat.

The question does have Laura considering her answer, at least to allow the other woman to lead. But Laura isn't feeling too submissive this evening so she answers by doing and not by saying.

She steps closer and catches Shaw's lips in a soft kiss that builds in momentum as she turns her. Each step Laura takes forward forces the other woman to take one back until they stand at the side of the bed. The bottle is abandoned on the nightstand and the kiss lessens while her fingers reach out to investigate what sort of pants Shaw is wearing.

That's either a Yes or it's a No, but don't underestimate me; which one it is specifically is something that Shaw quickly decides doesn't matter. As Laura pushes her, she presses back step for step, but never in a way that signals actual resistance: she's always happiest when someone is both willing to shove her around, and willing to let her shove back just as much. Right now, that means she's all about delivering hard kisses, tangling her fingers in Laura's hair, and seeing about the clasp to that bralette.

Her own pants are a straight-forward pair of skinny jeans, easy to both unbutton and tug down; the boy shorts she has on underneath are also easy to wiggle out of. Once the backs of her knees hit the mattress, though, she's going to see about spinning them, grabbing Laura's shoulder and giving it a firm tug around.

Her own pants drop easily to the floor with a simple pull of a tie and a gentle shove off her hips. At the same time, her fingers hastily pop the button open on Shaw's pants before sliding in palms flat against warm skin with thumbs hooked on the waist to inch them down over the woman's perfect ass.

Once all the offending clothing has been removed, Laura sits on the edge of the bed, greedily claiming kisses while her hands roam over warm, smooth skin. Laura scoots back further to the middle of the bed while she pulls Shaw to meet her as she lays back.

Ah, good; the tug-around works (even if Laura seems to have already been halfway towards doing it herself). Shaw half-crawls up Laura's body, trailing fingers and lips and just a little bit of teeth as she goes - and when she ends up back at Laura's face, she gives her bottom lip a sharp nip.

[From here.]

There's almost no time at all between Raylan disappearing and Sweeney emerging, jacket in hand. He jogs lightly, unsure if he's going to need to catch up, but finding her waiting, he continues until he slows in front of her. His grin is more delighted than it probably should be, but it's not like there's anyone else out here with them.

"Hey there, Fireball."

God, it's so hard not to kiss her.

"Have fun?"

Because he sure as fuck did. Aiming to have a lot more before calling the evening.

Laura hates not knowing what sorts of things are being said about the whole incident -- if anything is being talked about. Worse, she hates feeling like she's done something wrong when she knows she hasn't -- at least as far as she's concerned. And then there was losing half of the drunk high she had because of it.

The name gets a little huff of amusement. She likes it.

Seeing him smiling as he approaches helps a lot, too and she can't help but return it with a small one of her own. Yes, she's still bummed she has to call it an early night and there's no reason to believe he'll abandon the party for her. Not after seeing the way he and Maggie were chitchatting.

"A lot, actually," she nods, letting out a laugh. "But then me and my big dick energy got in the way of continuing it. I was planning on doing some bartop dancing."

With her, no one ever knew.

Edited 2023-07-08 03:40 (UTC)

He takes a half-step, splitting the distance between them again, his gaze still locked on her as he does so. Sweeney doesn't touch her, but he's definitely in her space enough to show how much he wants to.

"I'll take ya ta the Speakeasy right now."

Easy solutions are the best kinds of problems. He's ready to go, the rest of the party already abandoned. Sweeney was there for her, and now that she's not there, he doesn't need to be either. His eyes search hers, looking for some hint as to her want.

There's a desire to reach out, put a hand on his waist and pull him to her slowly. It feels so real that she stares at the middle of his chest before rolling her head up and meeting his gaze. For a moment her brow wrinkled in confusion, but no sooner it lifts in interest. Ah, yes, she understands now.

"I think I'm done with bars for the night," she confesses, but if he's looking for a hint of what she wanted, it's there. But she moves a half step closer, now in his space and tilts her head some. "Come back to my cabin with me?"

It's a game of chicken he knows he won't hate losing. At the few inches between them, she can see how his breath has started to shallow, and how he swallows trying to rein in his want.

"Fuck yes," he breathes, then bends to steal a kiss and hook one arm under her hips while the other wraps around her back. Sweeney's hoping to hoist her up so he can carry her to the elevator. It's a little tricky with the addition of her jacket, but at least he'd put her cigarettes in its pocket before making the attempt.

She's relieved he has zero restraint and the lack of patience in waiting until they get to her cabin says that his desire for her isn't going anywhere. Thank god, because the way he claims the kiss from her has her practically reeling in want right then and there.

There was only one thing on her mind and that was being with him again.

Laura drapes an arm around one shoulder and frames half his face in her free hand, deepening the kiss while her legs wrap around him. If the jacket is dropped and forgotten about in the hallway because he could think of other places to put his hands, she wouldn't care. The beauty of free higher-end clothing meant she could shop for a new one whenever she wanted.

"God, you taste so fucking good," she murmurs, pulling back enough to stare at his mouth and lick the taste of liquor and cigarettes off her bottom lip with her tongue.

Thank fuck she's onboard with the idea; the grip of her legs make the rest of things much easier. Long strides clear the distance to the elevator without effort, and he bumps a knuckle into the button.

"Then I best stay on yer tongue all night." Sweeney grins and presses his forehead to hers before claiming her mouth again. The sentiment is accented by a chase, seeking her tongue with his, then trying to suck the tip of it between his teeth.

Blessedly, someone had recently been up, and the door promptly chimes and opens. Sweeney stumbles inside and shoves her against the wall in hopes of pinning her enough to fumble for the button while maintaining his grip on her jacket. It's a complicated undertaking, but he manages. Then his hand is back on her hip and his kiss is renewed with fervor. Sweeney aches to get to where their going, and that doesn't require making it to her door. He rocks against her eagerly to make sure she knows it.

"You better," Laura barely has a chance to breathe out the words when the passion of the kiss has her engaging and moving her tongue in and out of his until she rewards him with it before slowly pulling it back out with a soft delighted hum. There's anticipation with all the other ways he plans to use his teeth on her tonight and her skin tingles in anticipation.

Her lower half answers, her pelvis presses hard against him and with a slight roll of her hips Laura's mouth curls into a devilish smirk at the length of him pushing up against the innermost part of her thigh.

Laura glances up at the numbers illuminating as they make their way to the fourth floor and once the doors open up to it, it's a matter of passing five doors before they get to hers.

When she grinds against him, he muffles a moan into her mouth. Sweeney debates hitting the emergency button and taking her right there, but it's less practical, at the end of the day. He promises himself it will be worth it to have her naked.

Luckily, the thought takes up most of the trip down, and when the doors open again, he resecures her with of a shift of her weight towards him. His kiss is less focused while he tries to navigate the hall without running into the wall. She doesn't make it easy.

Sweeney finally gets to the right one and bumps her against it firmly, like he'd content himself that this is close enough and a completely acceptable place to fuck her. But mostly, he wants them to be more stable when he breaks the kiss long enough to whisper against her lips.

"Key?"

Edited (Spelling correction) 2023-07-09 06:14 (UTC)

She'd done herself a favour to relocate her key from the ledge above the door that she took it from that day he carried her back from the infirmary after she'd died. But now it was under the mat, so she slips her legs and body down and turns to lower down and get it. There was absolutely no way of collecting it otherwise.

But once she had it in hand, she reached back around with her other hand to pull him closer while she fumbled to get it into the lock. To say she was having a hard time concentrating with him hard against the small of her back was a gross understatement.

Finally, she was able to get it unlocked and with a quick turn of the doorknob, she kicked it open and led him inside.

Though he understands the requirement, the loss of her on him still leaves his body protesting. At least until she urges him forward. One hand braced on the door, Sweeney rocks against her. It accents the ache in his belly, and his free hand slides her hair over her shoulder, that he might get his mouth on the base of her neck.

But then the door opens and he has to straighten so he doesn't stumble in, and the effort is abandoned before he gets to complete it. Sweeney follows her in, but promptly lifts her straight off the ground and steps forward until he can kick the door closed. He beelines for the bed and carelessly throws her on it. He quickly sheds his jacket, letting it fall on the floor before he sets to the over-shirt beneath. His gaze never strays from her and his goal.

Oh, how she loves being manhandled and the look in his eye is fierce and God, she can't wait to feel his lips and his teeth and his hands on her. Her eyes are hungry, attentive and focused.

The moment she lands, Laura kicks off her shoes and pulls the black fitted blouse she was wearing over her head before frantically working on her pants to loosen them enough that he can pull them off before he crawls his way up her.

"Fuck, I want you," she mutters shifting herself up higher so that he'd have room.

Most time, Sweeney gets to do the unwrapping, which is always welcome. But there's something in the frantic nature of her eagerness that fans the flames a bit hotter. She's content to leave him to finish; the best of both worlds.

Braces left useless at his side, Sweeney yanks his tank over his head before resting a knee on the foot of the bed. He hooks his thumbs in both pants' cuffs and with a sharp snap, he liberates her of them and casts them over his shoulder. Then he's up on her, trapping her between his knees as he works his way up. Sweeney nips her thigh in a speckled pattern, and when he gets to her hip, he catches her panties' elastic between his teeth. Pulling it up, he releases it a moment later, letting it snap her skin.

"An' I can't wait ta have you."

Sweeney pushes up to sit on his haunches before he hooks two fingers under the fabric on the opposite side. With a firm grip and a quick twist, he pops the seams and yanks them out from under her, then tosses them in the direction of her pants.

Her eyes roam over his top bare chest and thoughts of all that skin being available and all the things she's going to be able to do with her hands, nails and teeth; giddy about leaving new marks for him to look at over the coming days. She pushes her hips up until her pants are off and then watches him intently while he gets rid of her last bit of clothing in the most arousing ways.

Laura sucks in a breath and draws a smooth leg up against his side. One hand grips his shoulder, and she arches her back up to let out a breathy moan. She was getting impatient but for once, there was a sense of enjoyment in the way he was building up the moment.

Skin on skin is especially delicious when he still has he trousers on; being able to feel the shift in sensation makes his skin more hyper-aware. Sweeney curls forward to steal the moan from her mouth in a hot kiss.

As quick as he takes it, he's gone again, lifting away to put enough room between them to have what he wants. The flat of his palm catches her shoulder and shoves her down against the bed. In an effortlessly fluid motion, he shifts his weight to allow for maneuverability, his fingers curling around her shoulder and yanking her hard to roll her onto her belly. Without a pause, he tucks his fingertips beneath the clasp of her bra, and with a snap, it's unhooked. Peeling it apart, Sweeney abandons it to survey the canvas of her pale back.

His fingers sink into her hair and twist, both securing her and moving most of it off her neck. Bending forward, he runs his tongue up the length of her spine, capping the motion with a bite at the base of her neck.

The initial roughness gets a wide-eye stare up at him and her mouth twists in a half smile before she gasps and is flipping onto her stomach with a soft grunt. Without seeing him, she has no idea what he's got planned and it's the single most exciting thing to anticipate. Laura's pulse quickens.

But then her hair is getting tighter on her scalp and she hisses in response to the sting of that and the cool air that hits her spine from the saliva from his tongue before her brain registers his teeth sinking in.

"Fuck yes," she lets out a muffled shriek before pushing her ass up into him. "More."

Harder.

Sweet fuck. They definitely need to get in that bar fight at the next port, if this is what one punch can rile them into. Sweeney loves the words that escape her tongue, but he loves the rock of her hips even more. The buttons of his trousers serve as chaperone, but that doesn't mean they are leaving this room without needing to be laundered.

He yanks her head back hard as his other hand slips down her side and hooks under her hip. With the echo of a grind serving as a bookmark, Sweeney jerks her high and flush against him as he sits on his heels. His teeth steal a fresh patch of pale skin, and bear harder into it. The hand on her hip slides back towards her knee, but it doesn't make it all the way down before his fingers flex, and he rakes his nails up the interior of her thigh until the first knuckle of his thumb bumps against her.

Yes. The next sharp pull of her hair has her hissing through her teeth, but it isn't until she can feel his teeth bear down again that her brain can't decide if the sensation is pain or pleasure and reacts with a jerk before a strangled grunt echoes between them.

Laura sets one hand down on her thigh above the knee, while the other slips under his and around his side to give him the room he needs. It's too hard to see with her hair still cinched and her head taut against his shoulder so her eyes settle on the ceiling, more than fine to simply feel everything he wants to do to her. But when she feels his hand start travelling down and inwards, she can't help the controlled breath that is released and the push of her legs more open to feel him there.

With an invitation like that, how can a Fellow refuse? Sweeney tilts his hand and shoves his middle two fingers in her without preface. He hooks them and tugs her closer with a hiss in her ear. The proxy of them sends fresh want coursing through him.

In the wake, he stills. At least mostly. His thumb strokes her, slow and meticulous in contrast to the bursts of aggression. Sweeney want to feel her twitch around him, and he's willing to wait to have it.

Even if she'd been wanting it, the act takes her by surprise. Her mouth falls open and her breath audibly hitches, morphing into a single lengthy moan. The sinfulness of it all has her hand falling to his forearm, half gripping and half trying to push it away because nothing should feel this good.

Laura pushes her back into his chest, head against his shoulder with hips rolling slightly in an effort to fuck his fingers. She lets out a shaky breath and her stomach trembles in want. Muscles constrict and release; tighten and let go, each time pulling his fingers in more.

Edited (typo) 2023-07-12 19:44 (UTC)

Fuck, that's delicious. All the blood in the lower half of him is screaming to tag in, but every coil around his fingers is so much more acute than it would be around his prick. He delights in every ripple, the way her body is caught between begging and taking. His arm is stone against her protest and balance; she can use it for whatever she likes, but it isn't going anywhere.

Sweeney's more than happy to offer her more depth, however, and when he shifts to reposition for it, he takes the moment to release her hair, his hand jumping immediately to her throat instead. He catches her under her jaw and forces it up, keeping her head pressed to his shoulder as he grits his teeth and gets back to work.

She can feel the build of an orgasm start, the build of heat that starts low in her stomach and swells throughout the folds of skin until she can feel the blood rush to her head. When he moves her again, she submits, but not without raking her nails up his arm, provoking him to be rougher; to bite harder.

Laura rolls her hips back again, faster, rocking her backside against his covered cock to torture him like he was doing to her and to selfishly force his hand, quite literally, into giving her what she wants.

Sweeney tries to be strong, to remain as unaffected as he's able to, but when she gets determined, he can't stop himself from trembling against her, and his hips start a tight rocking, each one pushing her into his hand.

Her neck held, exposed, he licks up the length of it before nipping at her jaw. His breaths are short and shallow against her skin, accented by the path of his tongue. Fuck, how he wants her.

But he wants--no, he believes--he can force her over the edge, and the stroke of his thumb is undeterred by either of their squirming.

Let me have this. Let me give this to you. So we can both have what we want.

Her breathing turns to a pant, the continued rise sounding through each exhale with a desperate cry that grew louder in volume. She places one hand over his busy hand, trying lamely to hold him there knowing he wouldn't stop now. Not when she's so close....

Everything was working to coil her up even tighter than she ever felt she's been until she feels herself on the precipice. Her free hand goes to his on her neck and clamps down forcing him to squeeze just a little tighter, hoping to feel his teeth sink deep into her skin again.

Suddenly Laura's breath shatters and her body tightens and seizes against him. After a few long strangled moments, a deep guttural growl escapes between them and Laura climaxes violently.

Fucking hell. The feeling of her hand above his, silently requesting for it to tighten, makes it all too easy to acquiesce. Sweeney squeezes, increasing the pressure gradually, if a bit unevenly while he tries not to grind too eagerly against her.

When she growls in satisfaction, he grins and bites at her ear, trapping the lobe between his teeth.

There she is.

But really...why not be greedy? Sweeney doesn't actually think that hard on the idea, he's just doing: not letting up with his pace. He'd love to pry another from her before he has to submit to his own lust. Maybe he'll make it, maybe he won't, but in the meantime he's savoring every twitch around him.

He releases her ear, but only so he can claim her neck, clamping hard to keep her in place while getting her to squirm more.

Her body ignites with fire and heat spreading through every part of her in impossibly contradicting ways; leaving her hyperaware of the drug-like effect that she was experiencing that was only pushed further long by the sharp pain on the lobe of her ear. Her walls spasm and contract around his fingers while her nails dig deep along the inside of his wrist with each aftershock.

The rest of her body shudders and twitches with every cresting aftershock while she slips a hand down to caress a breast and glide a hand across her protruding nipple.

She waits for the euphoria to fill her, that warmth and calm and satisfaction, but her stomach start to tighten again and white explodes behind her eyelids.

"HOLY FUCK," she shrieks loudly, pushing back against him so hard she could almost straighten her legs in front of her.

The vigor of the force backwards surprises him in the best of ways, and Sweeney grins unabashedly as he fights to keep a grip on her. His arms go rigid to minimize her squirming as she rides out her climax. Any flickering thought of going for a third as a charm evaporates in the swell of want that consumes him.

He manages to ride her out until the rippling starts to ebb, but there's no way to let her come all the way down before Sweeney moves on. His hand loosens on her throat just enough that he can slide it around to the back of her neck, cupping at the base of it. Grip tightening again, he shoves her down hard, his slick fingers slipping out of her only because she's forced past them. They leave a glistening stripe over her hip.

Her shoulders pressed into the bed and ass high, they take nimbly to the buttons of his trousers, and it's only a few seconds before he claims her with a single thrust; sharp, deep, and unforgiving.

Sweet holy fuck.

Laura isn't as spent as she may look and though her body relaxes as if she's done and there's nothing left in her as far as energy goes, she is far from done. When he shifts them again, she buries her face into the mound of the blankets that she had pulled into disarray when she landed on the bed. Her hands slide up over her head and grip the fabric as if they were some kind of lifeline.

A wail breaks the silence of the room when he slams into her, and Laura feels as if she's about to be ripped in half with how deep he goes right away. Most women draw the line well before now, but she was a moan away from begging for more.

"Fuck you," she provokes, wanting him to do more. Her attempts at reaching back and sinking nails into some patch of his skin fail miserably, so she uses her voice instead. Another loud moan. "Fuck. You."

She wanted to feel everything in the morning; the bruises and bites and the pounding he was giving to her without any protest from her.

"Fuck me?" he growls, stilling as he leans into her, watching her writhe as he keeps her filled, snatching at the air. God, he can feel her in his blood, giving purpose to his rage, entwining it with ceaseless hunger.

Sweeney knows the danger of it, putting himself in harm's way, but isn't that the most delicious part? The welting and bruising and blood, reminding him he's not dead yet. And that's only found in her arms' reach. He curls over her, his hand releasing her neck so he can brace his forearm across her shoulders. The other slips beneath her and latches roughly to her nipple, tugging it as he snarls in her ear.

"Fuck you."

With that, he sets into her, his thrusts cruel and unrelenting as their pace builds and steadies. He doesn't know if he wants to claim her or break her or die inside her.

Maybe all of them at once.

Edited (Spelling correction) 2023-07-15 04:07 (UTC)

Laura's breathing picks up, her aim to evoke in him something so primal and hungry was rewarding. This is the kind of chase she wants and had been searching for so long for. This is what makes her feel her heartbeat in her ears and the blood surging through her veins. Each individual shiver and every goosebump that assaults her body over and over again with every new thing he does to her.

That's right. You're not dead anymore. Feel him. Trust him. Let him remind you.

Her head drops forward and her bottom lip drags loosely from his wrist up his forearm. Keeping still isn't possible but she reaches behind and pulls him closer, as if it will do anything while her other holds her balance in the blankets.

Her hunger is overwhelming, and the rest of the world is collapsing around them. He shoves his free hand lower to the place they meet, taking the feeling of each stroke as a promise that this is real. He's inside her, and her body is begging for it. It doesn't matter if she's tender or swollen, it seems a waste of the trip to not rub her roughly at the same time. Before he abandons the effort, he gives her a quick flick, aimed for the most sensitive piece of her.

Sweeney anchors briefly on her hip, to steady himself, and the clench of his fingers is certain to leave neat bruises in the arch of their tips' contact. He fights for focus, not ready to yield yet, not when she's so clearly wanting. The thought of leaving her unsated is anathema. Sweeney stutters a touch, and wraps forward, finding the coloring swath of skin from her throat to her shoulder presented in offering. He licks and bites and bites, groaning into the flesh pressed between his teeth.

He wants to devour her and be consumed in the same moment, raw and aching and here.

Four long fingers dig deep into the top outer part of his thigh, sinking further every time she lets out a yelp because of something he does to keep her reacting. Oh, she wants it all until they no longer have any strength left in them to continue.

But she is far from being done and that much hits her when her body once again starts that steady exhilarated climb back up, this time far quicker than the times before.

Her lips press to his forearm, teeth dragging before settling in one spot distractedly while every nerve sends word back to her brain and all the delicious pain that he was inflicting registers. And then like a match to gasoline, another climax explodes and Laura bites down viciously.

As if she read his mind.

Her nails in his flesh makes him hiss in short bursts each time his momentum forces them deeper. The pressure of her increasingly tight grip around him only has him trying to fuck the victory out of her, and he commits to the effort with wild abandon. The relative softness of her mouth on his arm has his scalp tingling, lulling him into acute awareness, and he doesn't see the bite coming. Or her.

The yelp doesn't have time to blossom before he grits it into a snarl, but by then he's already tripping over the intensity in every nerve, all screaming and burning to just let go and live in the fire. Or at least die trying.

Sweeney can't help but yield himself to her with a purer cry as he shutters and rocks forward for every fraction of an inch he can steal. The shift in his weight forces more onto Laura's shoulders, pushing her further into the bed. But he couldn't avoid it if he wanted to, and he's far past that sort of wanting. There's only her and her pink flesh and clear eyes and vibrant Life wrapping around him in more than one place.

For a few seconds he just hangs in that white, quiet space before the pounding in his ears finds him again. Then he's panting against her skin, slick and salty with exertion, willing his heart to slow. Another moment passes, and he turns to place a delicate kiss on her neck, just below her ear.

Sweeney doesn't know what the fuck that was, except needed and craved and Them.

Every part of the experience leaves her with precisely what she's been longing for so long that she'd forgotten what it was like to feel that deeply. Everything was such a contrast; every inch of her skin burned on fire, but the cool air hit her sweat-slicked skin and made her tremble under him. Her hands grip the sheets so tightly they loosened and gathered around her head, but she couldn't get over how relaxed she felt. Then there was a simultaneous feeling of being high. Only she couldn't believe how clear her mind felt.

She releases her teeth from his arm. A few moments later she sinks the rest of the way down into the blankets and turns her head slightly, murmuring softly. "Yeah, we can do that again."

Maybe not right at that moment, but soon. Very soon.

A slight hiss escapes when her jaw shows mercy, and he flexes his fingers to encourage the blood back into the divots she's left behind. Sweeney shifts stiffly to get his forearm off her back, pushing first to hands and knees before steadying enough to straighten to bring his hands to her hips. He waits there for a moment, letting them both prepare before he withdraws with a wince. The cool air is not welcome after the warmth of being inside her.

Sweeney flops on his back next to her, pulling down a cigarette from behind his ear.

"An' twice on Sunday," he manages, the words still ragged.

Sweeney digs in his pocket for his lighter, his intent to see it lit and the first drag savored before offering it to her.

Still reeling from the occasional aftershock, Laura buries her face in the covers while slowly sliding her knees back down to lay properly. She stays there with her eyes closed for a few long moments, relishing in the way her body feels and how raw her lower half feels.

"Only twice?" Laura smirks, pushing up on her elbows. Taking the offered cigarette she pauses before taking a drag. "I don't know, those are some pretty magical fingers. You might have created a monster. A greedy one."

He can't resist a low chuckle as he pulls down another cigarette from behind the same ear and lights it. Sweeney doesn't bother clarifying the saying, just savors the drag before letting his head loll to the side to look at her.

"Now that's a monster I'll happily kept well-fed," he pokes with a lopsided smirk, twisting enough to reach over her and run a single fingertip lightly from her sternum to a few inches beneath her navel before it abandons her skin with temptation and promise.

"Bein' inside ya is..." How can he put it? Sweeney isn't sure, so he tries again.

"Feelin' ya coil 'round my fingers is a high I ain't lookin' ta quit. Yer fuckin' sublime." And he means it. He looks back to the ceiling so he can take a drag.

"So anytime you're look ta get that itch scratched, you just let me know. I'll be there with fuckin' bells on."

How does a girl not take that as a compliment? More, how does a girl not react to that compliment without breaking into a bit of a blush? Laura seems to be able to hide it behind the plume of cigarette smoke she's just exhaled,

"How about we just say that will probably be whenever you're around," Laura glances his way and shifts a little closer to press her naked body against his side. "Or I can set up a schedule of all the people I'd like to punch on this fucking piece of shit vessel and we can just meet here."

"Mmm." He purrs in consideration while squirming just enough to playfully mirror her, both of them settling into sweaty contentment and a haze of tobacco.

"Don't tempt a Fellow," he pokes, closing his eyes. Sweeney takes a slow breath savoring the moment before his thoughts work backwards along the path to the inciting incident.

"Wonder if Steve'll give ya a hard time 'bout it." His eyes open and stare at the ceiling. "Can't imagine he would. Given how Malcolm walked outta the thing."

Her smile says she absolutely plans to tempt him. Any chance she can get.

Watching him, she takes another drag and shrugs one shoulder up. "I guess I'll find out. I can see him asking why I did it, but with Malcolm already having a few incidences of people attacking him on the Barge and in his own world, it probably won't come as a surprise.

Did Maggie give you a hard time when you did it?"

"Hm?" It takes him a second to catch up. "Punch Malcolm?" Sweeney's answered his own question, and as such, he doesn't delay in answering hers.

"Nah." He makes a shrug of a shoulder that crinkles the sheets a bit more.

"Told her I did it. Told her why. Told her the matter was settled." Sweeney steals a small drag, holding it while he recalls the thing.

"Know she talked ta him. He wasn't lookin' ta press charges or whate'er." Nestling the cigarette between his lips, he rolls his wrist and flips out a plastic ashtray to rest on his abdomen for both of them to use. Sweeney promptly does so.

"Honestly, think she gets more pissed that I don't wanna fight 'bout folk bein' cunts ta me first. Normally, don't bother tellin' her if I get in a fight unless a Warden's on the other end of the thing." He peeks at her.

"Not like there's a fuckin' point if no one dies."

Edited (Spelling correction) 2023-08-09 20:24 (UTC)

It's during one of their afternoon check-ins that Steve tacks on to the end of his usual text: Do you have some time free this afternoon?

[ Laura hadn't been feeling all that well since waking up that morning so she sleeps what she can off from the night before. So, she doesn't answer for a good 45 minutes after Steve sends his check-in and his additional message. ]

ok. when?

[He isn't too concerned - he doesn't expect a text back immediately, though if it had taken more than an hour, he might've gone a'knocking.]

Whenever's good for you. I have some bread for you. I could bring it by, or B's at the kennel if you want to come here.

[The bread is a convenient excuse, but it does also actually exist.]

Hour?

[ she'll wake up 10 minutes before he's due. or try. ]

Sounds good to me

[Which means that, in about an hour, there's a knock at her door.

He brought a loaf of Irish soda bread, wrapped in a clean towel to keep it warm, and B's thermos, full of coffee. Possibly mildly spiked.]

[ oh, look. someone was able to drag her ass out of bed before her guest arrives. does she look like she just did though? yes.

laura opens the door. she offers him a little smile. ]

Mornin'

[ well, for her it is. ]

You brought me presents. Are they because you're here to talk to me about something you don't want to talk to me about?

[She gets a smile back - it does indeed look like she just woke up for the day.

At least she gets breakfast delivered?]

Not... exactly? I mean, who ever wants to talk about stuff, really, but I promise it shouldn't be too painful.

[Hopefully that's a promise he can keep.] It's mostly just a, uh. More thorough check-in?

[ since the bread smells delicious and he's got coffee she'll take that from him and wind her way around the coffee table to set it down and sit.

laura listens while carefully unwrapping the bread and leans down to smell it. when she looks at him again, her brow crinkles. ]

Okay. Let's do it then.

[ laura's tone is wary. ]

[Steve can respect someone who wants to get down to business.

If there's enough room on the loveseat to sit without crowding her, he'll do that - otherwise he has no problem just plopping on the floor. As usual, he doesn't want to tower over her.]

Mostly I just heard you got into it a bit a few days ago.

[He might be trying to subtly make sure she came out of it unscathed (or unscathed enough that he doesn't need to do anything about it).]

I wanted to see how that went.

Edited 2023-07-10 16:47 (UTC)

[ she motions for him to sit, turning slightly to press her back to the inside arm on her end. laura nods, knowing that was likely why he was here. And he wouldn't be the type of warden he already is showing himself to be if he turned a blind eye to it all. ]

You mean punching Malcolm? It was pretty satisfying, I won't lie about that.

[ she reaches for the thermos and starts unscrewing the lid. her tone remains unapologetic. ]

Edited 2023-07-10 18:37 (UTC)

He does seem to have his nose in a lot of places.

[Steve does not know much about the guy, honestly, but that much he has gleaned.]

Can I ask why you punched him? Just curious.

[ laura pours some of the coffee into her cup and instantly gets a whiff of the steam. she points to it, silently asking if there's something "more" in this coffee. ]

From what I've learned, the amount of times is kind of fucking staggering really. [ she takes a sip and makes a tiny sound of approval. ] And that's why I punched him. The guy says he wants to help people, but if he's any kind of professional, he'll let the people come to him for help. Not get in people's faces to lecture them on their unhealthy coping mechanisms or point out when their deflecting.

Edited 2023-07-10 21:10 (UTC)

[Steve just eyebrow gestures back - go on, try some. He maybe looks a little pleased when it passes muster.

But back to the matter at hand:] Yeah, that's the problem with professionals. They really like to hear themselves talk.

So I take it he wants to help you, and you'd like to pass. Violently.

[He might have to have a chat with the guy - no means no, even when it comes to therapy, etc.]

Not violently, no. Though I would have taken a lot more satisfaction in punching and seeing a bloody nose or something. I'm not sure I understand how someone who punched him in the nose and gave him two black eyes is excusable because the person had a reason but I'm the one who needs help.

[ Laura shrugs, taking another sip of the coffee. ]

I swear the guy loves the attention that being a victim brings him.

[Steve tilts his head, smiling in a way that's more grimace than anything.]

Sounds like he might. [Like the attention, he means.] It still gets people attention around here -

Well. The right people, [he adds, quietly. They're all victims, in a lot of ways, but the inmates far more. And all he can think about is the rampant favoritism he'd faced for years, working against him. But that's not what's important here.]

Sometimes when nobody listens to you, you've gotta make 'em listen. [His way of saying he understands why she might have done it.] If you don't want his help, that's more than fair.

{ Laura will find, next time she comes to her cabin or leaves it, a bouquet sitting at the door. It's accompanied by a note, written in swooping, elegant, script and simply reading:

For giving him what he deserves. }

Hey, Addy. Sorry for the terrible conversation, but...can I ask why you punched Malcolm at that party?

[ Just getting right to it, apparently. ]

You can. But before I answer, I'm going to ask you something first. Are you and Malcolm a thing?

Yes. Pretty serious, too, even though it's fairly new. We both just...move fast, if we move at all.

Okay. And are you asking me why I punched your boyfriend because you want to express disappointment in me? Because I'm not sorry, Tully. We can save this from a shitty ending by not starting this conversation at all.

No. You don't have to try and be sorry, or- he didn't even really get hurt. It's more that I want to know what happened so I can avoid doing it to someone. My mind works pretty similarly to his. I've just kept my mouth shut through more of my life.

And...I wanted to know if you're okay.

He oversteps. He's treating everyone on this barge as patients even if they don't want the help. Every single conversation I've seen him in on the network is talking about coping mechanisms and deflecting and using whatever training he has in all the wrong ways.

I know what's wrong with me and I don't need him trying to fix me. I'll do that on my own. As I'm sure a lot of other people do.

[ He's quiet for awhile, on the other line. Thinking. ]

Would you be willing to talk about specifically what he said to you- or someone you care about- that set you off? There's always a last straw.

[ Laura is quiet, not entirely sure if this conversation was really for his own benefit or if there was some amount of fishing being done for Malcolm's sake. Maybe had they been closer here like they had in Seattle, or if the times they were able to connect hadn't been cut short or their talks interrupted that this one would be an easier one to have. ]

It's everything he sticks his nose into. If it's not preaching to me that I need better ways of coping or that I fucking deflect pretty good for a drunk person or outright telling people false shit and when he's called on it still tries to make it seem like he's the one who's right.

[ If it isn't her, it's Sweeney. And if it isn't Sweeney, it's Roman or his brother or Lestat or anyone else who Malcolm feels it necessary to fix. ]

If I wanted to do a deep dive into my past to figure out why I am who I am, I'd ask for help with it. Most people will. But he oversteps and won't stop until he's provoked a reaction.

Edited 2023-07-14 18:50 (UTC)

Okay.

[ He's quiet again for a few long moments, noting that the parts he admires of Malcolm seem to be what everyone else hates. But she's also not willing to go any deeper, too defensive to go into specifics. So he's just going to have to take this and run with it. ]

I...uh, I can't apologize for him, even if I wanted to. But I'll try to avoid doing that to you, in the future. Looks like my public-school socialization is still working for me here.

But feel free to punch me if you need to. If I'm being too stubborn and...I don't know, getting Harkin hurt or something. I'd understand.

Tully.

[ Laura lingers, understanding how hard this must be for him and she doesn't want to make it harder for him knowing that his affection for Malcolm is real and therefore biased. ]

I don't think you'd do that. But you asked and I wanted to give you an answer because..

[ she cares about him, even if it's from afar. yet, sometimes saying so is too much of a gamble to worry about losing. maybe Addy felt like a painful memory that was too much to remember now. ]

...I know, Addy. And I appreciate it.

[ She doesn't have to say it out loud. The fact that she didn't completely shut him down here shows her feelings. ]

And I don't think I'd hurt him either, but I've done some pretty shitty things in my life- my not-Seattle life. I guess you never know.

Anyway, uh... [ He lets out a small sigh. ] That was it. Other than checking in on you and seeing how you were doing, party night aside.

I think a lot of us have done shitty things in our lives, but shit happens, too. All the time. You do your best.

Okay. Promise me we'll talk soon?

Yeah. Talk soon, promise.

Take care, okay?

[About an hour after this.]

I'm not sure if you wanna talk to me or not but.. I wanted to reach out and make sure you were alright. And to apologize again, I-.. would've knocked if I'd know that there was somethin' like that goin' on.

[ she figures he would call, but she didn't expect it so soon and almost lets the call go to message. but after the third ring she decides to answer, listening to him first before letting out a breath. her voice is quiet. ]

You don't need to apologize, Raylan. How would you have known?

No, I know, but.

I woulda left. Didn't mean to get in the way of somethin', is all.

And you didn't seem okay, seein' me.

[ that hangs for a moment before she asks: ]

I'm not sure I was. Not seeing me like that.

Were you okay seeing me like that?

[Raylan knew he had to chose his words carefully here. It wasn't an easy question. This was all.. Complicated. Doubly so after the last breach. After their last conversation.]

You're a grown woman, makin' choices of consent. I'd be an asshole if I weren't okay with that. [That wasn't the same thing and he knew it, but it was the best way he could think of to safely phrase where he felt he had to stand.]

Okay.

[ There's another pause. A deep breath. ]

Is that what you want to say? Or is that what you think you should say, Raylan? Go ahead, be the asshole.

And if I'm wrong and that's really how you feel, I'm sorry I reacted the way I did when you showed up.

[This felt like a trap. A mistake. A conversation that was going to come back some day and bite him in the ass one way or another. But he'd also been married twice and frankly, he knew that tone. His options were lie and hurt her or tell the truth and possibly still hurt her.

He takes a few seconds himself before he responds.]

Okay isn't the word I'd use for it. But I know where I stand in the.. the mess of everythin'. It's not my place to be anythin' other than some semblance of okay. Those boundaries.... help. We're all adults here. I.. kinda figured you were sleepin' with him already so it wasn't so much a surprise.

Edited 2023-08-13 04:27 (UTC)

[ honesty is all she wants, even if she expects it to be brutal because it's all she's got her entire life and all she's given back. he'd learn that about her eventually, if he hasn't already.

surprisingly, what he says stings more than she lets on and she can't hide it in her voice. ]

Where you stand in the mess of things? Do you think I have you ranked on a list? There's you and there's Sweeney. And you're not just 'okay'.

[ she struggles with articulating, and before she can even think about it the words come out. ]

You're more. To me.

More than what? [More than friend? Lover? More than just someone who understands how she feels as a person in the world who's seen some shit? His gut was already giving him an answer, but for once, he was trying to ignore that gut brain.]

You and Sweeney.. He loves you. I don't know if he knows it yet or if he's said anything but. [Raylan knew the seeds of it all when he saw it.] I don't want to get in the way of that.

I want the both of you to be happy. You guys deserve to know what that feels like. [It was the most subtle him cutting himself out of a picture, but it was, at least, more honest on its face than he'd been before.]

More than I had any right to tell you.

[ she says it quietly, somewhere between him asking her the first question and Sweeney being in love with her. she thinks she understands now. getting rejected is something else that's new. she's usually the one doing the rejecting. and wow does it feel shitty. how had she missed the signs?

because she's turned into a fucking fool. the kind who foolishly believed she'd been brought back by a potion that needed blood from someone who loved her but didn't really. not the same someone who was on the barge, even though he'd become more than just some fuck buddy.

she was the fucking fool who left herself open to the charm of some Southern gentleman after a breach fucked with her head. Raylan talks about lists but she knows he's got lovers. she's tempted to ask where she ranks in it.

but with all the doubt running through her head of never being worth something to someone, she knows better than to think she even deserves any kind of real happiness. ]

I don't agree. He's fucked up and broken and that's not what he's looking for. Not from me. He's just looking for an escape like the rest of us. Maybe try and smooth over whatever guilt he feels about me or what he did because Wednesday made him. After he died, it didn't fucking matter anymore.

[ a pause ]

Look, I know the confines of what we decided to be and the breach played with that. I'll understand if you think you need to change those perimeters.

[ he doesn't need this mess of bullshit. ]

[More than I had any right to. He was glad this was over the phone and not face to face so she couldn't see the passing look of surprise on his features before it's tucked behind pressed lips of thought.

He doesn't interrupt. He doesn't argue. It hurt him for her that she felt that way about Red. That Red felt that way about her, though everything was taken with a grain of perspective salt.

He's silent for a long handful of stretching seconds.]

And if I don't? Think I need to change the parameters. What then? [What if he still wants to try to have those 'be in the moment and feel it' moments with her. What if he wasn't rejecting anything, just still unable to promise like he was before.]

[ she had a lot of time while holding a box of his ashes to her chest to realize what was, wouldn't be. coming here changed that, of course, but only insofar that sweeney and her seemed to be good at fucking each other to distract themselves from answering the more important questions. but that was between them.

laura prepares for a very different answer and finds herself letting go of a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. ]

Then nothing changes. Everything stays the same.

[ it goes unsaid, but she needs him; his touch, his attention, and the way he makes her feel seen. ]

I like being around you. I don't want to give that up.

[Nothing changes. Everything stays the same. Except it wasn't the same and going forward it wasn't going to be the same. Love changed things. Of course it did. But they could pretend. They could work through it.]

I don't want to give it up either. An' maybe that makes me greedy, I don't know..

Will you come see me? [They should talk more, but it seemed like the hardest part of it was done and over with and the rest.. Well, the rest would be better face to face.]

If you're greedy, I'm fucking selfish as hell.

[ she may not sound like it yet, but there's a hint of a smile on her lips. after another moment she answers his next question. ]

Yeah, I can. Where?

[ they seem to have a thing for the deck, but she's hoping for somewhere a little more private and out of public view. ]

Come down to my cabin? I'll leave the door unlocked and you can find me out back?

See you shortly then.

>> Action

Laura doesn't take long and is there within fifteen minutes. She opts for something a little more casual; a longer floral midi skirt with a plain white t-shirt and her hair up in a loose bun. It seems the smarter choice since showing up in what he saw her in last seemed wrong on a whole bunch of levels.

She lets herself in, as he'd instructed, slipping off her flats at the door before padding her way through and tilting her head to see if she could spot him. But as soon as she stops at the door she can see him down by the shoreline.

He likely already knew she arrived, but she slips a hand onto his shoulder to let him know she was there before sitting down beside him in the sand.

Edited 2023-08-13 22:15 (UTC)

Raylan was camped out at the shoreline, barefoot with his jeans rolled up to his calf, wearing the simple tshirt he'd had under his flannel earlier. He looks over as she pads out onto the small porch and down the shallow stairs towards him, smiling softly as she sets a hand on his shoulder.

"You want a beer?" He'd already opened his but there was another sticking in the sand next to him, ready for her if she wanted it. If not, well. He could handle swallowing down two beers.

"I'd love one," she says, taking it by the top and testing to see if it was a screw cap and if it's not, she waits for some help with whatever trusty device he has hidden to pop off the top.

She remembers the last time she was in his beach, and the flurry of excitement they were enveloped in makes the view a little more of a first time for her. But it's him that she focuses on before taking a sip of the beer.

He pops the top off with his ring before handing it over and picks up his own for a sip as he leans back on a hand, looking over at her from across his shoulder.

"Let me ask you somethin' darlin'. Are you ashamed of what you get up to with Red? Or... ashamed of someone seein' you lettin' half your walls down with someone else?"

Laura clues in pretty quickly why he asked her over and once the question is out of Raylan's mouth, she can't help but blink a few times and look a little speechless. Not that she won't answer the question but it is one he didn't expect him to ask. Actually, she found the question to be one of the better ones she's been put on the spot with.

"No," she answers truthfully, shaking her head. After everything she and Sweeney have explored together so far, Laura can easily say that the markings she's received from him haven't been intentionally covered up. But then no one has asked about them either. "But I've found myself in a situation where I'm a little more worried about what someone I care about thinks about me and the... certain things I do when I'm letting half my walls down."

That someone she cares about is him, if he doesn't pick up on it.

That was about the answer he had hoped for.

"I think you and him have somethin'. Maybe it ain't love, maybe you're right, but. There's somethin' there, and I ain't blind or stupid. But I ain't about to judge how you enjoy him, darlin', or you enjoyin' him at all. I'd be a hypocrite if I did that.." Considering all he's done. He shifts and lifts an arm in invitation for her.

"I think you're tryin' to find some peace. We both are. I've got no-.." He lets a breath out of his nose.

"Olenor and Astrah haunt me. What they had. And while my position hasn't changed, I don't wanna lose you. I don't care that you're sleepin' with Red and I don't care how. That's not gonna make me care any less about you."

She didn't deny there was something, but Laura wasn't sure it went as deep as Raylan might have thought it did. Or, maybe it was hard to because they hadn't talked about it since the memory flood. That was when a distinct and very bold line was made regarding a certain potion and her coming back to life.

Laura keeps her gaze out on the water, though she's not looking at it. Whatever argument she might have had where Sweeney and she were concerned seemed to be shoved under a stack of unfiled shit. Finding herself nodding, she takes another sip of her beer.

Peace would be nice. Only at the moment, it feels more like a pipe dream, sitting out of arms reach with a lot of other things she'd love to have. Someone was within arms reach and she smiles in acceptance of his invitation to get closer, which she doesn't hesitate to take.

"You won't lose me," Laura tells him honestly, shaking her head and leaning her head against the front of his shoulder. He's become something of a constant for her; a safe harbour. When she's with him the world slows down, at least long enough for her to enjoy their time together. "And thank you for telling me that. It's been a while since somebody did."

Edited 2023-08-16 18:30 (UTC)

Raylan had almost worried that she wouldn't and he'd feel like a fool that was dumb enough to be overconfident in the offering. But he liked the feeling of her tucked against him, and the way he felt warmer in his chest for the contact.

He hums at her first answer, giving her a faint smile as she leans against him. He knew that they were talking about the time that they had here, provisions built in. That didn't mean it still wasn't going to hurt. That he was going to lose her anyway. He grips her shoulder a little.

"If it's been a while since you've heard that, then I should make sure the rest of what you oughta be hearin' is up to date." He smiles down at her.

"You're beautiful. You're funny. Ballsy as hell and more brave and darin' than any woman I've ever known and I'm glad to know you."

Compliments like the ones he was giving were new, too, and the way her cheeks warmed and turn a soft pink was an indication of that. She will never expect it but it is nice to hear someone take the time to say it and her confidence is boosted a little more in that moment.

She smiles, gaze bouncing from his eyes to his lips while a hand comes up to touch his face lightly.

"You know it's going to go to my head, right? Guess I'll have to kiss you for it," she hums seriously, though it's clear she's feigning a laugh.

The smile spreads at her touch, breaking towards a grin at her threat and he lifts his eyebrows in amusement.

"Oh no, what a terrible fate for both your head an' my lips," he teases, bending down to meet her and steal her lips before she can steal his. He's temped to lean back, to lay into the sand with her, but the worry that it was too soft, too- too intimate won the internal argument.

He breaks the kiss with a smile.

"I want you to be comfortable here, darlin'. A retreat if you want. A place you're not gonna get judged.. A place where we can both be okay." He wanted the security too. He was looking for people he could be himself with. Properly himself. As 'himself' as he can be.

The moment his lips take and hold hers, she can't help the delighted sound she makes. Maybe it was because it came after the kind words he told her but the kiss was one of the best she's ever had. Whatever it was, it came from him and she'd happily take everyone that he could spare.

A place where we can both be okay.

Her smile mirrors his and turns warmer as he speaks and her eyes turn softer. Up until the moment he said it, she never knew a place like that existed, but she really likes the idea of a place where she didn't have to feel like her past was something to discuss or there to remind her of all the reasons she wasn't good enough before. It was a place to hide away from the world with someone who was okay with her figuring herself out as she went.

A place where they could be Astrah and Olenor, if only for the night.

"I already do," Laura says, nodding slightly. "And right here is the safest place I've felt in a long time."

No, not the beach, as lovely as it was, but right there under his arm.

It was never in question how beautiful Laura was, but there was something special about the way her eyes shined up at him, the way the apples of her cheek were full with her smile. She needed someone that could make her look like that every day. That welcome distraction aside, everyone kept telling everyone what they deserved and if he deserved a place to be himself, so did she. He was happy it was something, one of the few things, that he could provide. Life was messy. So were they. He'd rather be working on it with company than chewing over it alone.

"To the very best of my ability, Laura. That I promise you." He kisses her again, arm strong around her shoulders as he pulls her in. This time he does lay back, taking her with him if she'd let him and by nature of his hold, aiming to settle her head on his arm. When the kiss breaks, he speaks again.

"An' I've even got a spare room if you need to use it." If she needed a safe place but one that could give her space of her own, armed cowboy a complimentary security package downstairs.

[Sweeney doesn't wait the hour Raylan does. The moment he can do so without being a cunt to the marshal, he shoots her a text.]

Hey

Are you alright?

Did I do something?

Yeah. I'm fine.

You didn't do anything wrong.

Promise.

[She had done a pretty shit job at looking fine a bit ago. Then something strikes him; what Maggie had said about jealousy in the wake of the threesome they had had with Iris. It doesn't seem applicable, but that doesn't stop it from lingering in the front of his mind.]

Can I see you later?

Or would you rather be left alone?

It could be somewhere else.

If you want

Not here

Your place

Or public

If that's better.

[ she doesn't take too long to answer, but there is a short lull that might suggest she was thinking about it. in her mind, there was no doubt she wants to see him, but she wasn't sure if explaining what just happened was something she wanted to do. ]

Someone there to cover watching over Maggie tonight?

I can make it happen.

If it means seeing you.

i want to see you, too.

here then.

just need a few hours if that's cool.

Of course

Whatever you need.

Just tell me when you're ready.

Gonna find someone in the meantime.

[ It's more like four hours by the time she texts him back, but she does and she's sounding more like herself. ]

Still up for coming by?

[Okay, so that was longer than he'd counted on. He was starting to worry she was going to stand him up. There's an immediate rush of relief when he gets her text.]

Absolutely

You want me to bring anything?

[ A lot was said. A lot was processed. A lot was packed away because she doesn't want to think about it. ]

Just yourself. I got everything else.

Be there in 5

-----

The ship's just not that big. Sweeney's got long legs and is highly motivated. He still pauses in front of her door, tugging his unbuttoned shirt straighter and finger-combing his hair before he raps three times.

Hey

I know that shit's complicated.

I'd like to explain some stuff.

If you want to talk about it.

I understand if you don't.

[ she wasn't expecting him to call. not really. not today. not with how he and the girl greeted each other. was that what he meant by complicated? laura doesn't wait to answer. ]

I would like to talk about it.

On here or in person?

[It's a trap. Sweeney knows it is, but he can't resist the offer.]

It alright if we start it here?

I just

I didn't want to wait.

[But I have so little time with her.]

[ not meeting up was new. but okay, things have changed enough now that he doesn't want to see her. ]
Sure.

I'm not taking you away from your conversation, am I?

[Oh yes. Definitely a trap, and he'd sprung it with both feet.]

I may never see her again, and I'm spending the time trying to be open about shit with you.

Do you think I'd do that lightly?

I give a shit about clearing things up.

Helping you understand

Cause I know how they might look, and it isn't like that.

[But I understand if it's not enough. I'm starting to think I might not be.]

[ whoa that's quite the start. but then over text, she can't say she's surprised. how the fuck did her words get misconstrued as insincere? and why does it feel like he needs to come at her with two guns blazing? ]

No? How you greeted each other says otherwise. She apparently means something to you. More than what Annie is to you because you didn't look at her the same way as you did her.

Who is she?

[Well fuck me.]

She's the person who took care of me. Kept me safe from myself.

I didn't have a warden for a long time. She helped me navigate being here. Surviving here.

If that's all then why were you just defensive with me and is it for the same reason you decided to make the call private after realizing it wasn't?

[ there was no convincing her now that it wasn't more. at least on his end. ]

I made the call private because I didn't want to broadcast it to the whole fucking boat.

And I said that because I know shit is complicated with us, and I didn't want you be stuck thinking her and me are something we aren't.

I've never kissed her or fucked her or washed her hair.

[ but you wanted to. ]

are things complicated with us? i feel like we reached a comfortable understanding after the memory and psychedelic bug floods. things feel different now that you've talked to her. the way you're talking to me now is different.

if it's nothing, fine. why was she wearing your ring?

[ did he think she wouldn't notice? ]

She won it in a horse race.

It's how I can tell it's her and not me hallucinating.

I thought things were complicated cause the way you left after Raylan came in.

[Because it sure as fuck felt that way.]

breach overlap. i thought you above anyone would have understood that. i guess not.

look, it's none of my business who she is or what she is to you on a deeper level. I'm sorry you felt like you had to explain.

[ because at the end of the day, that is one person who she has no right to know about and he's making that abundantly clear. ]

[Fucking. Hell. This. This is why he's shit and can't keep things for himself.]

Are you willing to see me?

Or do you want me to let this lie?

of course i'd be willing to see you.

[ that's what she wanted from the beginning. ]

tell me where.

Can I come by your place in a couple of hours?

[She'd asked for more than that after the whole Raylan thing, so he doesn't think it's an unfair request.]

Sure. I'll see you here then.

True to his word, he's on her doorstep and knocking, hair finger-combed and shirt straight, if still unbuttoned.

She's spent the better part of two hours pacing and smoking and fiddling with the ring on her finger, spinning it around and around, leaving a faint red mark from doing it continuously. And when the knock on the door sounds, Laura spends a few seconds staring at the door before finally getting up and answering it.

Knowing his visit wasn't going to be the kind it usually is, she opts for a simple pair of faded blue jeans, a tank top and a cardigan that was a couple of sizes too big for her; her hair draped over her shoulders in loose curls.

"Hey," Laura greets quietly, offering a small smile before ducking her head and opening the door wider for him to come through. "Come in."

"Hey."

The smile is nice and, honestly, a welcome surprise. It's answered in kind. While he knows this is still likely to suck in some places and may end up with him kicked out into the hall, at least she wasn't coming out swinging. He makes sure the door is closed, lingering only a few steps inside while waiting for her to decide where she wants to physically have the conversation.

"You want me ta start, or you wanna ask questions?"

It's a sincere sentiment; she'd already bristled at him trying to get ahead of things, and he's trying not to make the same mistake. Sweeney's confident there are plenty of new ones to make instead.

Ironically, coming out swinging wasn't really on her mind. Asking questions, yes, but that went without saying. He knew that was possible enough to come forward first. Had he not, she'd have found a way to inquire about the pretty blonde woman that touched the screen in an attempt for more than just a verbal connection.

Laura makes her way back to the side of the couch she normally sits, allowing him the other, if he wants it. She shakes her head.

"No, I'm okay with listening. If something comes up, I'll ask, if that's okay," she answers, reaching for her pack of cigarettes. This will be somewhere in the tenth or twelfth she's had since he'd called a couple of hours prior.

He's normally one to stand, if only so he can pace or comfortably keep his hands in his pockets. But Sweeney gets the feeling that if he does, it will only compound the discomfort, so takes a seat on the other side of the couch and turns to face her.

"She was the second person I met when I got here." In the purest sense of actual conversation.

"She an' Tiff were the ones that made sure I understood how things worked. Who wanted ta get ta..." He isn't sure of the word he's looking for, so he picks something he feels is close enough. "...know me. Have a conversation that lasted longer than it takes ta order two beers."

Sweeney pauses, but it's clear it's only to allow her to interject if she wants to; he's willing to continue if she doesn't.

It is a bit of a relief that he does sit, not for her but for him and the feeling that if he didn't, there would be a tennis match in her living room when the pacing started. There was also the feeling that he wouldn't rush through things by sitting, which she appreciates. When he turns to face her, she shifts to face him more.

She listens, not recognizing the other woman's name either but nods in understanding regardless. There will be no interjection from her or any comments. Laura nods, lightly urging him to continue.

Now that he's gotten here, he isn't sure where to go next, so after a lick of his lip, he wanders aimlessly.

"I dunno. Just...o'er time an' endless bullshit, we got closer." That's not a great way to put it, is it?

"I'd ne'er really had that with a woman who I wasn't fuckin'." He goes out of his way to clarify in no uncertain terms.

"Who'd made it perfectly clear from our first talk that she wasn't interested in that sorta thing. An' wouldn't be."

She's doing her best not to react to anything, much less to the part where they got closer. To her, it wasn't the ones you were sexual with that weren't the danger. It was the ones that were able to get into a person's heart and make a difference that was the danger. She'd been able to spot those ones a mile off and they were the ones she used to avoid at all cost.

She keeps her expression schooled into mild interest. Laura busies herself with lighting up a cigarette, wincing at the thick ribbon of smoke that comes off the end.

"Was she a warden?" Her guess is yes. There was some unwritten rule for some, like Maggie, who wouldn't sleep with inmates. Some sort of conflict of interest situation, if one should arise.

"She was."

Sweeney watches her light the cigarette, licking his lip in the phantom longing for the taste. But he errs against lighting his own, feeling it might complicate the conversation somehow. He isn't sure why, but he doesn't have a lot of extra energy for reflecting at the moment.

He assumes she asked for a reason, probably one related to fucking. As such, he let's the quiet settle again, in case she has a follow up.

The question was for clarification and she nods, knowing that he knew why she asked. She decides that she needs to hear more, even if there is a question burning at the edges of her mind to ask. It occurs to her that by getting closer, he felt he could trust her with certain information. Namely, her, which doesn't seem very fair, overall. How much did she know? How much of her past is being unfairly judged?

Laura takes another drag, and she leans forward, her right thumb slowly starting to spin the ring on her index finger. She peers up at him, curious if that was all he had to say.

Ok then. Sweeney guesses that means the ball's back in his court. Great.

"That wasn't the only reason." It's a little difficult to admit, but it's clear he's making the effort, for her. He'd very much like to move past this particular topic, if only because there's very little to say on it in regards to what actually happened between the two of them. But he also knows if he pushes past it, it's likely to get Laura's hackles up.

"She wasn't lookin' fer that kind of relationship." He wets his lips.

"'s far as I'm aware, she still isn't."

And that's the truth.

Laura recognizes that he's trying and she wishes there was a way to show that she appreciates that he is. Still, it does little to lessen the feeling that she's being padded for a much larger truth and everything he says is unconsciously taken in and looked at for any double meaning. It's unintentional and she feels like shit doing it, but there's a need to know. Perhaps to steel herself from how it ends up making her feel.

And then something unexpected slips out.

"Much like you aren't, right?"

His brow crinkles in genuine confusion. The expression is muted, but still plain as day with them facing each other. Sweeney's lips part, but unsureness leaves the quiet a little longer.

"I already have that." An intimate sexual relationship that goes well beyond simple fucking and uncomfortably into the realm of 'he doesn't want to think about what it means because the answer would force him to acknowledge some shit'.

"With you."

Or, at least, he thought he did. With that 'breach overlap', he's starting to feel less confident about it.

She catches herself halfway through, closing her eyes and silently admonishing herself for saying it wrong. Good fucking job, Laura. She nods, not letting him believe that they weren't that.

"Yes, we are," she confirms, looking at him so he can see that she speaking genuinely. "I meant a deeper relationship with love and all that. That's what she prefers that you don't?"

Was that question any better? She wasn't too sure about that.

There's that moment of relief at her confirmation, that Raylan wasn't something he needed to worry about. Honestly, he hadn't been, even when the marshal had approached Sweeney about continuing to fuck her. It was the look on her face when she fled that had planted the seed.

But then she continues, and his expression sinks, along with his shoulders. Alright.

"No. She ain't lookin' fer that either."

Sweeney would rather not go into Swamp Rat's life, out of respect, but he's getting the feeling the more respectful he tries to be to one, the more the other dwells. At least, that had been how it seemed earlier.

"Some bad experiences soured her on the notion."

He won't have to go into Misty's life for her to be able to glean how he feels about her and so far, whenever questions come up he's quick to point out what she wants or doesn't want.

She catches his expression and the way his shoulders drop and Laura tries to keep an understanding look on her face, only she can't help but let a few tells slip; her eyes, the fidgeting with her ring that she keeps spinning faster as things become harder to parse and the way she swallows thickly.

"Does that disappoint you? That she isn't looking for something deeper?"

Sweeney frowns. Really? We're going to play Guilty by What If?

"An' what does it matter if it did?" His head tilts. "Do ya wanna talk 'bout my wife, too?" Others he misses. Wants to see again. Wants to atone for.

He doesn't give her time to answer, inhaling sharply and diverting the path at a steep angle, but with an intended direction.

"The second time I spoke with her, we talked of Moral Codes. I told her 'bout what I'd left undone. 'Bout how I'd wronged you in not seein' you properly restored." And my Coin back in my pocket.

"The moment she found out, ya know what she did? She made it her sole fuckin' purpose ta get back ta you an' resurrect you. That weren't outta care fer me; that was outta care fer you."

"No," she pops in, pissed at herself that she can't keep her mouth shut and let him tell her what he wants to tell her and nothing else because none of it was her business. She chimes in again with, "And I didn't even know you were married."

She stabs the cigarette butt into the ashtray with a little more force than she would have if they were just talking about random shit and bites at her bottom lip. No, she didn't like how he was talking to her. Sweeney was giving her information she never asked for but he felt spurred to tell her. Why? To hold some kind of resentment toward her because of ALL the things she presumably- wait.

"So she knows about me?" Laura's brow pinches. "I don't even know her fucking name."

It doesn't seem very fair. Not even a heads up that with all the fuckery that this boat does to the people on it, past people on the boat could have shown up in some capacity.

Then it occurs to her.

"You mean she came to resurrect me to get you your coin back."

Laura gets it and nods. I understand now.

UGH. She is so infuriating. Sweeney's body tenses, and he fights to get it to ebb.

"No." He forces the word through gritted teeth before he manages to unlock his jaw.

"She came back 'cause she couldn't bear the thought'a you out there, fallin' apart while she had the ability to make it right." Full stop. That's the truth. She would have, even if there was nothing in it for Sweeney. Because it was the Right Thing.

"You ne'er wondered how I knew 'bout you killin' Grimnir? 'Bout that cunt havin' my Coin? You fuckin' told her."

"Okay, but can you blame me for thinking it?" The question comes on the heels of his clenched jaw and frustration leaving her to react with nothing but a helpless shrug. "It was the first thing you asked me when I arrived."

But the basics didn't fucking matter. What mattered was that some other version of her got a bunch of information and now she was expected to somehow remember it. He was throwing stuff at her that didn't make sense.

"And now you expect me to act like it's all okay because she was fucking helping me?! I don't know who she fucking is! I've never met her in my life."

He had a talent for not answering questions and turning tables and it was exasperating trying to talk to him about any of this.

"No, it's--" Okay, so she has some really good points in there, and maybe he could have gone about this better.

"It's not what I'm tryin' ta say." Which is probably good, because whatever he's doing, he's shit at it. Sweeney takes a deep breath to center himself. He wets his lip and fixes his eyes on hers so she can feel the weight in his words.

"What I'm tryin' ta say is: she went back ta save you. But she couldn't."

Okay. Say it. It's important. She can hate you after.

"'Cause I already did."

The statement holds all that is left unspoken. The Baron told the truth. It was his blood that the gris gris needed. Yes, he knows what that means, and he isn't running from it.

That's what she likes so much about him; what took her too long to figure out and when she did it was too late. It was the fact he wasn't perfect or predictable and that he is broken and busted up on the inside just like her. But he couldn't see that and now she was desperately trying to hold onto something she felt destined to lose.

She stares ahead, eyes starting to line with emotion and when she finally has the courage to look back at him, he tells her -- acknowledges the one thing that had been a constant question mark over her head since it happened. Laura's brow ripples and a tear drops down into her lap. She nods, feeling something inside her chest release.

"Yeah, you did, And I lost you in the process."

Her own unspoken words tell him she's not sure she can go through that again.

Whether she can or not, he knows she may not have the choice. None of them do at the end of the day. Sweeney nods once, yet to blink.

"An' it was worth it." Even if his dumb ass still hasn't figured it all out. The revelation is only a few hours old.

"Ta make things Right."

To save you.

It was a foolish thing to think in hindsight. Not only did she have no control over what happens to him, or even herself, for that matter, but she couldn't do anything about changing how things were left when they last saw each other.

Laura quickly wipes away another tear before trying to smile. "Just like you said you would. I'm sorry it didn't stick."

Then again, she wouldn't have ended up on the barge if it did. Maybe that's the reason she couldn't bring him back.

"That'll teach ya; givin' yer Luck away."

He manages a small smile to accent the gentle tease. Everything still feels so fragile, but there's a sense of quiet after the storm. Sweeney doesn't know if that means it's passed, or if he's just sitting in the eye of it.

"Would'a thought ya'd pay more attention while ya had me by the balls." Both literally and figuratively.

Edited (Spelling correction) 2023-08-21 07:54 (UTC)

A soft snort in amusement has her agreeing, in the end. There are a lot of What If's and Maybe If I's, but going back to change things and that million-to-one rare chance meeting through that stupid coin most definitely would not have happened. She's still fighting about whether that would have been a good or bad thing and she can't help if he wonders that, too.

"Yeah, well you might want to consider marking your lucky coin so that you don't accidentally give it away," her own playful jest. Somehow she knows that once he graduates and cuts his own deal it will be back in his pocket in no time.

"I'll keep that in mind, when the time comes," he assures her with a tip of his head.

Okay. So now what?

There's a nervousness growing in his belly, and he isn't sure if it's meant to be good or bad. Maybe neither. Maybe both. All he knows is it increasingly uncomfortable. This would normally be the point where both of them would be down a layer of clothing, and they're not even touching. Yeah...Sweeney's not sure he likes this. But he's trying. Trying not to run. Trying not to do the Wrong Thing. Say the Wrong Thing.

Fuck, he sucks at this.

His gaze drops to where his closer knee presses against the couch.

"You wanna drink?"

Sweeney winces slightly at himself. Not great. Hopefully, not the worst. Only time will tell. And he's guessing it's going to do so in short order.

He looks as awkward and unsure as he did during the memory flood and it's not a good feeling. How did they go from that to being able to flirt and be cute to suddenly being weird and like any progress made went out the window? It was like the were starting at the beginning all over again. This must be why people were okay with choosing to be totally oblivious to certain stuff.

Laura presses her lips together. Not in a sad way, but something more understanding and she nods slightly. There were still so many questions but at this point, they all felt like ticking time bombs, waiting to explode and make an even bigger mess so she shakes her head.

"No, I think I'm okay," she replies quietly, looking at him for a brief few seconds and she can see it. Him trying. But she kind of felt like he was eager to be on his way so she tried her best to cut him loose without making him feel she was pushing him away. She takes a deep breath. "Without knowing how long you have, maybe you should go back and talk to her some more."

She's important to him. She had seen enough to know that.

Laura nods again. "What if this is the last time you'll see her?"

Then it will destroy him all over again, but at least this time he can believe she's safe and somewhere else, being free and herself. She doesn't need him to be happy, and her happiness is enough. Or, at least, something akin to it. And maybe he won't know he'll never see her again; he can just believe in the chance yet to be. Either way, it's not what he wants to be thinking about at the moment. But Laura's right; he does want to get back and not waste what little they have.

However, he doesn't want to waste this, either. He knows if he bolts in this moment, that it will undo all that's been said. Confessed. It'll only make things worse than they were when he walked through the door. Which is pretty fucking bad.

Sweeney takes a slow breath and slides off the couch. He doesn't rise, just shifts onto his knee so he can come to rest in front of her. His hand lifts, hoping to brush back an errant lock of hair while his thumb grazes her cheek, if she allows it. Either way, his gaze is fixed on her, and his voice is soft and sincere.

"I know I'm shit at this. I know I can't promise you anythin'. Only that I'm tryin'. I don't wanna do wrong by you." Not again.

"Please believe me." His hands lowers to take hers and gently guide it to press flat against his chest.

"Please believe this."

Nothing was ever certain, was it? No, Laura supposes not. The barge couldn't promise anyone, anything, just as she couldn't promise anyone, anything. Erik couldn't promise to see their plan through. Hancock couldn't promise he would stay after leaving. Sweeney couldn't be promised that he would ever see her again -- the woman whose name he still refuses to share. And although his words and his touch are meant to be reassuring, they are anything but.

She stares at her hand on his chest, realizing that his words were the nicest way he can think of to tell her that she's just not important enough. Everyone leaves eventually and he will too. But he can't know that she feels that way and she won't let him see the pain of her realizing how perfectly this mirrors that day when she came back to life and then had to grieve his loss on a bridge with what was left of him in a box.

Laura nods, schooling her expression into something totally and utterly believable.

"Okay," she gives him her best smile, appropriate, she thinks, for the conclusion of this talk. "I trust you."

Good. Trust is good, right? Maybe, for once, he did something right. Sweeney finds a small smile in return, something laced with tendrils of hope.

Trust. Right. Good.

It's a strange thing to feel like he's done Enough at all, especially for her. But he's good enough to do this one thing, to redeem himself in some small way. Not the whole course, obviously; there's so much dirt left above him. But at least there's a glimmer of light, one that wasn't there a minute ago.

His other hand lifts so he can cradle her head when he kisses her. It's not rough or wanton, but it's far from chaste. It's warm in a way that isn't hasty, isn't him running off. Just something that can nurture that hope to take root.

She feels numb, almost robotic in her movements and it takes everything in her to roll along with the bits of sentiment that he shows that somehow feels hurried even though it's not. Maybe it was because deep down she knows how eager he is to get out of there -- be free of whatever this is and get back to safe and familiar and comfortable. Laura can't fault him for that. At least he'll leave oblivious and happy and in hindsight, maybe it will help keep the topic of discussion off her, as she's sure it's come up already.

The kiss is nice, almost too soft for the things they've been up to and there's a flicker of desire that he'd claimed her mouth hard and fast just so she can feel whatever it is he's trying to convey. There are so many conflicting motions.

She gives him another smile, albeit a little more forced this time and nods again. At this point, she's feeling more and more like a bobblehead sitting on someone's car dash.

Please, just go.

Something feels weird, even before he releases her. It's like she's not kissing him back. Or doesn't want to be. Was he supposed to be more passionate? Should they be fucking? Was he just supposed to leave? Sit on the couch and have playful banter?

Fuck.

Well, there had been one flickering moment when he thought he'd done something right, but he's on the other side of the slope, and the affect and silence definitely gives the vibe that she wants him to fuck off. Sweeney sits back, managing a small smile and an accepting nod before standing.

"A'right." Another a quick smile and bow of his head are offered, as if it would make things better again.

"Thank you." Rare words offered in utter sincerity.

"Fer yer trust."

Sweeney's not going to force her to sit there and nod at him more, so he turns and gets to the fucking off.

She did kiss back, though it wasn't with the sort of energy that she usually would if he wasn't planning on going anywhere; when she could have him selfishly all to herself. To disappear into the sheets and feel him in and around her.

But he wasn't staying and this wasn't a kiss that would lead to any of that. So, she didn't hold on any longer than he wanted her to. Laura smiles back, but it doesn't reach her eyes. Instead, there was worry and a flicker of panic in them.

"You're welcome," Laura replies, her tone barely above a whisper as she continues to spin her ring.

As she watches him leave, she stops and takes it off for the night, leaving behind a raw and angry red band underneath it.

Edited (typo) 2023-08-23 03:28 (UTC)

Hey. [There's a sense of relief at getting to say this.]

I know I didn't explain well, an' I'm sorry fer that. Names are just... [How to put it so it doesn't sound utterly ridiculous?] They're important ta me. A Faerie thing.

[You're getting off topic. Do better.]

I wasn't comfortable, givin' her name without her permission, same as I ne'er gave yers ta her. [Even when they'd discussed her privately, years before now. That does make him realize the rest, and it slips out after.] Or ta anyone else.

[OFF TOPIC. Get back on.]

It's Misty. She offers it with her blessin' that you should have it. So I wanted ta make sure I was able ta give it to you.

[Fuck, that sounds so dumb. But at least he got the chance to say it. He hopes that's enough.]

Fer what it's worth, I hope ya get ta talk.

[ she's actually kind of surprised to see the message, he never leaves them. she had been in transit to the commissary for her shift when it came in so she listened outside while having a smoke and was immediately put off with him rambling about her name -- a rather delicate subject with her given everything. it leaves her feeling mildly irritated over the sheer insensitivity of even stating names are important when he can't be arsed to use them. that and laura is pretty sure the other woman has known her name for quite some time. did misty have her blessing to have her name?

whatever.

she feels dumb being upset and knew it was just a rampant case of jealousy that she feels the way she does. but maybe it was a good thing this was just some flyby message that didn't need replying to because how does one word their appreciation for being worthy enough to have someone's name?

laura turns her volume off and shoves her device into her back pocket and does her best to forget about it. ]

Edited 2023-08-22 16:21 (UTC)

Hey, Laura. I'm awake. I'm scrambling to reach people right now, but let me know if you'd like to grab a drink later. Don't know who you've talked to this week, but hope you're holding up okay.

[ laura is in the middle of a dark depressive episode and doesn't answer the message right away. but about an hour later, something short comes through. ]

welcome back.

got a few things going on. but we'll catch up soon.

I'll be here when you want to take me up on it.

When Steve doesn't wake up in the morning, B has a moment of panic, but it isn't a long one. Past experience means panic can be safely smothered into a simple background anxiety, and B is good at keeping anxiety masked. Steve has done this twice before since he's met him, after all, and it's probably lucky that he's gone this long without a coma.

His inmate doesn't know that, though. And she needs to, or she'll worry, too.

B gets the dogs, cats, and a pair of the goats settled at the kennel with the rest of the staff for the morning, then heads for Laura's cabin to knock. He doesn't know what time she and Steve usually talk, but he's kind of hoping he's caught her before that time.

It's still early, and Laura's nursing her first cup of coffee in the new living area of her newly redesigned cabin and feels substantially better about being in it now. There is no lingering Shadow memories stalking around in the corners and it well and truly feels like she can be someone else who isn't constantly surrounded by her past.

The knock on the door has her narrowing her eyes at it. Most give her a heads-up text that they want to stop by. All the same, she gets up and answers and freezes when she sees B.

This cannot be good.

"Please don't tell me Steve is gone," she says quietly, her eyes filled with worry.

"No, no, god. I'd be much more of a wreck if Steve was gone," B says with a little shudder. "No, he's just in a coma. I didn't want you to worry-- he's done this twice before since I've been here, and apparently a lot before, too." Which is not to say B is not a little stressed about it, sure, but it's definitely not that level of awful.

Laura let go of the breath she hadn't realized she was holding and her shoulders visibly relaxed. There was no way in hell that she would take well to learning he was anywhere but, and yet, she was still very much worried that even after he got up, somehow the Admiral would force him out and once again, she'd be flailing around trying to pick up the pieces of losing yet one more person she was aware of caring a lot about.

She opens the door a little wider and motions for him to come in; the layout new and completed just a few odd days before.

"I'm still trying not to get worked up about comas even if they happen as often as they do," Laura confesses, unknowingly wringing her hands. "Do you want me to let the barge know? I put a message out."

She wants to do something. He's done so much for her already in the short time since they were paired.

"You can if you want," B shrugs, looking sympathetic to her distress. "You can visit if you want. He won't know you're there, but sometimes it helps me feel better. First time he did it when I was here, I spent-- probably eighty percent of my free time at his bedside." B was also not the most stable at the time, and Lark had failed to mention Steve coma'd regularly.

Sweeney's lingering out in the hall just outside the Enclosure, smoking a cigarette as he reflects on how things are. How they're changing. How he can do fuckall about it. But then the door opens and a petite form heads out. Recognition is immediate; he's not sure if that's simple familiarity, or if he's starting to get a feel for her. Sweeney wonders if he'll ever see her like she saw Shadow. Not a thought to dwell on now, not when there are more pleasant options.

"Hey, Fireball." He licks his lip as he looks her down and up again, more playfully than with lust.

"Have yer fill?"

Staying long wasn't the plan, though that was a decision made last minute when Laura realized that she could sit at a table and drink herself stupid, yet again, before passing out somewhere between the Enclosure and her cabin. That wasn't 'trying to do better' with, what she knows to be, a pretty serious drinking problem. But things were better and would shape up to be even more when she saw his face on her way out.

Her lips twitch in amusement. Why does he always have to look at her that way?

"Yeah," she hums, stopping right in front of him. "I think I'm more in the mood for coffee if I'm being honest."

Saying shit like that? It'll have a Fellow undressing you with his eyes in a heartbeat. Sweeney's brow arches high, the suggestiveness of his tight smirk, not subtle. She might be meaning it in the most literal of senses, but his mind is already burning it.

"I could go fer a cup." Of whatever she's having. He shrugs, playfully dismissive.

"You gotta pot at yer place, right?"

He seems to remember that, even if they've never used it.

"I do," she replies, sauntering past him like she was dangling a carrot under his nose. "And a lot of coffee."

Really, they could be up all night with the amount she still had stashed away. But that was the point now, wasn't it?

"I should warn you though, my cabin layout request went through," Laura turns, grinning as she takes a few steps backwards. She's sure she told him the last time he was in her cabin that she needed the change. "I think you'll like it, though."

The subtle shift of his expression offers a silent 'oh really?', and his smile blossoms wide and a touch wicked. Sweeney's looks her over, then cocks his head, already in step behind her.

"You gonna be there?"

The unspoken sentiment is simple enough: that's all he needs for him to like it plenty.

The devilish grin that spreads should answer his question easily enough. Although the moment they get passed the door, she has no intention of making any coffee for them until after they have a little fun. Their track record is 0 for 0 and some good coffee was wasted, not to mention a couple of coffee pots.

Laura turns back around and makes her way to the elevator, waiting to see how much of a tease that will be and whether he'll be able to keep his hands to himself.

Sweeney tends to be shit at games he doesn't know he's playing, and that goes double for ones that involve keeping his hands to himself. He keeps a step behind until the elevator. As he starts to slow, he pulls the last drag and flicks the remnants back down the hall. Task done, he turns his full focus on her.

The bell dings. Door opens. Sweeney herds her inside.

"This gonna be one'a those 'close yer eyes 'til I say when' things, or I get a hint?"

Laura steps into the lift and turns to press her back against the wall. First, she presses the 4th level button and then smirks knowingly up at him.

"I think I can give you a small hint," she nods, squinting slightly in thought before she figures out the best one to give him. As she tells him, she watches his face for a reaction. "I have a great view from the bedroom."

Now what that view is exactly is a mystery and he won't get to know until they get there.

When she rests on the wall, he braces against it, one hand on each side and above her so he can shade her in his shadow when he looks down. At her hint, he lowers his head a bit more, taking stock of her.

"I'm sure I will, too." Of you. Naked. Or clothed. Or...whatever.

God, she loves how predatory and hot doing that makes him look. Her eyes roll upwards and it is as if she can read his mind. And for as much as she wants to hit the stop button and ravage him, Laura attempts to restrain herself, but a hand grabs the front of his shirt and she pulls him down until her lips are on his in a hard and bruising kiss.

Before she can get too involved, the bell sounds and the doors open on her floor. Laura swipes her tongue across her bottom lip and slips out from under one of his arms, digging her key out quickly so she can get them inside without any hassle.

Now which one's failing the game off hands-off? SPOILER: It's both of them.

One hand drops to cup the back of her head, so he can make sure she doesn't wander too far when he meets her in kind. Fuck, there are still some days he swears he can catch the hint of gunpowder on her tongue.

When she makes her escape, there's a moment when his gaze just follows, him still braced on one hand, lips parted.

"Minx," he murmurs before turning to follow her lead. Sweeney sucks his lip as he waits for her to open the door, buying her time by distracting himself with hints of sensation. He's not convinced there won't still be a 'closed your eyes' portion, so he's fighting the urge to grind up on her and press her against the door.

Something tells her that asking him to close his eyes is rather useless when they are already working their way to being riled up. Almost enough that she's wondering if he'll bother looking around until after they've taken care of that insatiable thirst that only ever seems to be quenched with rough and hard sex.

Laura hears him and can't help but smile and as soon as she gets to her new updated door and barely unlatches it before she turns again and motions to his face. "Close your eyes," she tells him and waits.

Yeah...that's what he thought.

Sweeney takes a slow breath and dutifully follows her direction, making sure to exaggerate it just a little, so she knew he was doing it. For her. He tries to imagine what might be behind her door; how that new one might be reflected in the theme of her room. And what she might look like naked in it.

Of course, she's still smiling. Laura reaches forward and grabs his arm and pushes the door open with one hand while the other leads him in. He'll be able to tell things are already different because she steers him to the left, closing the door again and walking him a few more steps in.

"Okay, you can open them," she says. When his eyes adjust, they'll no doubt settle on the quaint, almost Bohemian-esque living room with hanging plants and an inviting couch. But as his eyes sweep along towards the back, that's where Laura watches for his reaction to her bedroom area.

He can't help but smile a bit when she takes his arm, but he's left at her mercy in direction. They manage just fine.

When he's instructed to open his eyes, Sweeney blinks a few times to help get his bearings. Huh. Ok, an-- OH. His grin spreads like wildfire. He slides her some side-eye, but it doesn't mute his smile.

"You tell him ta make it big 'nough fer me?" Steve, he means.

Though there's no pretense that the pair of them won't be fucking in any bed she might have, Sweeney's amused at the thought of his face if she asked for that specifically.

The smile he gives her makes hers spread wider. Laura kind of knew he'd like it and even with his comment, she glances between the bed and him and then back to the bed. "It's a big fucking bed. You're going to fit, trust me," she laughs, walking over to it. She spent a few extra hours in it that morning, rolling around and enjoying the comfort of it. It was leaps better than her old bed, and the bedding was something she could never afford on a casino dealer's salary.

She steps forward and points up above the bed. "Did you see this?" It was the best part of the whole remodel.

"Somehow we always manage," he teases cheekily. It's no small feat, given the difference in size. Not lingering in the thought, he follows her forward and looks up.

"Holy fuck, Fireball. A room with a fuckin' view." For a long moment, he just enjoys the sight. It's a soothing view; his cabin doesn't even have a window. But then another thought comes to mind, so obviously, he must beg the question.

"Which one'a us gets ta look at it first?" AKA: who's on top?

Laura's smirk turns warm and she watches as he finally sees what she feels would be the clincher when it comes to him liking the new cabin. Especially since she was aware of how comfortable he was in the old one. Not that she doesn't think he wouldn't understand her reasoning for the change.

"I got to wake up to it this morning," Laura nods, letting out a little laugh. "So, you can take the honours next."

She tosses her hat over into the livingroom, hoping it makes it somewhere where she won't actually step on it and takes a step towards him.

Sounds good to him. His grin spreads wide with mischief, and while not a proper bull-rush, he plows towards her with his shoulder low so he can scoop her up. Sweeney doesn't fully hoist her on his shoulder, just gets her off the ground and onto the bed with a pounce.

He looms over her, his knees outside hers. Sweeney takes a moment to drink in the sight of her in the mass of linens before claiming her lips eagerly. There's heat, but no desperation or cruelty. This is fun. He's happy to be with her, sharing something new that brings her joy. Also, fucking her is pretty great, too.

Nothing can contain the little whoop she makes before landing with a flop and a laugh. Yes, this is fun. There's nothing to make up for; no aggression to work out. It was just something good and in the moment. And she can't help but look up at him and smile before happily losing herself in the kiss, even for a short while.

Her hands come up and gently take his face on both sides while she deepens it more and sweeps her tongue in and around his until all the air in her lungs depletes. When she surfaces for air, she opens her eyes and drifts his gaze over his features, trailing the edge of her thumb along his cheek softly.

Sweeney wriggles his hands between them, nimble fingers making fast work of unbuttoning his shirt. The last is barely done before he's tugging it off his shoulders so he can abandon it behind him. His kisses are hot but brief, a speckling of eagerness while he sheds his braces and peels his tank off, leaving it to join his shirt.

Task seen to, he kisses her more properly, pulling her head up to meet him for a long moment before turning his hands' attention to her jeans. Grin wide, Sweeney's set to button and zipper without bothering to figure out her shoes. At least her legs are between his so the yank to come won't be hindered by his body. He's not always great at order of operations. But he certainly is making up for it with enthusiasm.

The shoes are kicked off somewhere in between both his shirts coming off and the removal of her jeans, which are close enough now to be discarded. her head swims with the anticipation of being fully naked under him and the wave of arousal at the thought has her breathless and excited.

Laura thrusts her hips up so he has the clearance to yank them down off her legs when he's ready. Until then, she runs her hands up his muscular arms and lets out a heady moan.

The partnership is nice; a mutual dance that, while eager, isn't desperate. Time is available if it's wanted; he just isn't looking to dally. Sweeney appreciate the lift of her hips, and he sits back as he hooks two fingers in each side to catch jeans and panties in one go. The tug leads into a smooth flow where he rocks back off the end of the bed so he can get both articles off and discarded before he crawls back up on her.

He nudges a knee between hers, encouraging her to give him space between them. Sweeney finds her lips again as his broad hand slides up the outside of her thigh, tucking up under her ass to urge her off the bed and against him, if only for a passing moment. He's is no rush to get to her blouse; there's a level of cheeky delight in her in only her shirt, and him in his pants. Sweeney smiles against her skin, nuzzling and nipping his way over her jaw to her neck.

Her eyes watch as Sweeney removes the clothing from her lower half, and she can't help but smile at the way he looks at her on his way back up; appreciating her as if she was the only woman on the barge, even if she was still mostly covered by her shirt. It's what makes being with him different every time. He lets her be anything she wants to be, worshipped like a goddess or respected for the violent storm she has proved herself sometimes to be.

Laura wraps her arms around him and when he brings her closer she holds on tighter, pushing herself into his pelvis and letting go of a pleasureful sigh at the feel of his rough whiskers against her skin and the way it turns her on even more.

Hooking one leg over his hip, one of her hands slides higher up on his back and presses into his skin as her head falls to his opposite shoulder so that she can drag her lips to the edge. From there, she grazes her teeth down and then presses a soft kiss to the top of his chest.

When her mouth starts down, his instinct is to rock up, grinding himself in a single stroke. It makes him inhale sharply, and then he remembers the parameters established. Sweeney kisses her jaw and nips her ear before wriggling his arms beneath her back to wrap her up tightly against him.

The shove of a heel puts some oomph behind the roll, and he comes to rest on his back, sucking the moisture from his lip as he looks her over.

"Yer right, it's a really nice view." And he hasn't even looked up yet.

God, he has the ability to drive her crazy with the way he handles her in these kinds of moments. The playful side is one that gets her riled up faster than when they're in the mood to be aggressive. Though being tossed around could escalate into something more frantic and serious, when Laura finds herself on top and sees the way he's looking at her, she can't help the impish smile that takes over her lips.

Her hips start with a slow roll over him as she lifts and straightens slightly, placing one hand flat on his stomach. There's a look in her eye. One that has her wanting to do something to him that she has yet to do. Slowly she lowers and slides back, watching him until she's positioned and fingering the waist of his pants in one hand while the other works to follow the outline of his throbbing dick between her thumb and index finger.

The darkening of her eyes tells him of her intentions and the way she starts pulling at them will give him ample enough warning of what she plans to do.

Fuck, that smile. She's such a troublemaker. And oh, how he wants her to make all flavors of trouble when she's squirming on top of him. Her torturous roll pulls his hands instinctively to her hips, eager to keep the pressure against him.

But when she slips back, his curiosity gets the better of him, and his fingers relax, though he doesn't move them from their post. Her bold touch sucks the breath back into his throat, and his lashes flutter as he watches her. Sweeney's brow arches with a silent 'oh, really?'. He's already flexing his toes in his boots, trying to stay still enough to let her work. Even so, one hand lifts, and he sinks his fingers into her hair; there's no urging or holding, just savoring the feel of her and her shape matched to his.

She was all for this kind of trouble. What girl wouldn't be? The thought of driving a man wild was one thing. To drive him wild for all the best reasons made it worth it. But Laura had other reasons, too. She wanted to worship him in a way that he had not yet given her a chance to; to let her show him in kind the attention that he had done for her since they started sharing each other in this way.

Laura's lips twitch, feigning a grin at first before forming into a sultry smile. Her hope is to hold his attention with her mouth until she's able to pull him free from his trousers. Fingertips glide up and gently curl around his length and while she keeps her eyes on him, she presses her bottom lip to his crown before slipping the tip of her tongue to cradle it and inch it further and further in.

OH. That's new. Well, not new new, but anything with her is new enough.

Sweeney almost chokes on his tongue. His fingers twitch against the urge to twist them in her hair, but it doesn't stop his other hand from jumping to her shoulder to steady himself.

"Fucking hell," he whispers, swallowing to ease the ghostly wisp of his voice. Sweeney's gaze flickers to the sky for a moment as he fights to collect himself, but that effort is abandoned before it begins. He cranes his head enough to watch her, savoring the union of sight and sensation. The knot in his belly coils into a singular thought.

More.

As quiet as his words are, they still manage to send a flash of goosebumps up her back and across her shoulders and arms. His reaction is exactly what Laura was hoping for and she continues taking him into her mouth until she can feel him nearing the back of her throat. Reverently, her hand strokes as she slides him in and out, lips firm around him and her tongue twisting around the tip before swallowing him again and again.

She loves the taste of him and hums a reverent note at the way her own body was turning more aroused each and every time she fucked him with her mouth.

Her tongue is the most glorious velvet, and Sweeney isn't sure what he's supposed to be doing with himself. He certainly doesn't expect her to manage the whole thing, but feeling the bump when space becomes limited makes him twitch, and his head falls back again as he struggles to stay steady.

Try as he might, he can't help himself, and his grip in her hair tightens. He doesn't push or yank; he's just looking for some purchase, as if he's unsure that she's actually here with her lips around him, or if it's just a fevered dream brought on by too much mushroom tea.

She continues on, spoiling him and all the senses that are involved, working assiduously at the attention and focus to keep him writhing in pleasure while his fingers tightening into her hair spurs her to move faster. This is something she's spent her nights alone thinking about, curiously playing it out in all sorts of different ways and even becoming aroused while doing it.

Her lips press a kiss to the tip, but her tongue wraps around and then down the length. Laura glances up to look at him before a lewd and devilish grin curls into the corners of her mouth.

His moan is pushed through his nose by tightly-pressed lips, as it he could pass as being anything other than completely enraptured. Sweeney's hands loosen, both abandoning her to work in unison, clawing hurriedly at the bedding above his head, trying to scoop and gather masses of pillows and comforter so he can watch her without straining his neck.

Oh, what a sight. The size of her hands and sweet lips only make the proportion more skewed, but she doesn't seem to let it deter her. Sweeney has to swallow frequently to try to slow his breath. The effort doesn't manage to deepen it much. His lips part, but no words come as his fingers slip back into her hair. They don't twist, but the other hand takes that wanting out on the bedding, his knuckles tight as he grips it.

If she keeps at it, there's no way his resolve will last. Hopefully, he'll at least be able to keep her on top and not lose so much will that he has to roll them over and claim her.

Laura keeps up at it for a little while longer since Sweeney seems to be enjoying her ministrations. But only long enough that her own selfish needs begin to take over. When she's satisfied with how close she can bring him to release without, though there's a small amount of conceit that tells her she doesn't really have to try all that hard.

As soon as they are face to face again, her mouth demands his in a hot, fervid kiss that has her head spinning violently. Laura holds her balance with a hand on his upper arm, abandoning his lips to straighten and sit up. There's only so much waiting she can do. With a slight shift, she lifts and lines him up against her before slowly dropping to take him into her completely. Muscles tighten and hold him in place while a delicious sigh and "fuck you feel so good" escapes her lips.

Sweeney can't tell if he's disappointed or relieved when she lets up; realistically, it's a bit of both. Especially when her kissing gives way to sitting up, then sitting on. When she slides down, a gasp gets tangled on the back of his tongue, and he trembles beneath her. She makes every nerve electric, and his hands jump to her hips, needing some sense of anchoring, in both savoring and anticipating.

The position just feels so much deeper, and it's hard not to thrust up, just to be able to pull her back down. But Sweeney manages to remain still (mostly), trying to let her stay in the driver's seat as long as he can bear. Even so, his fingers dig into her the flesh of her ass more than he means to. He knows he's supposed to be looking at the sky, but his gaze is trapped on her; her blouse still neatly buttoned, veiling the point where they meet, tauntingly.

Laura's eyes hold his, only blinking slowly because it's hard not to close them completely to take in how this position makes her feel. The depth she manages is purposeful and she can't help the way her insides lock every last inch of him, contracting with each tremble of her stomach. But her pace increases in speed, her hips rolling while she rubs herself gently every time she thrusts him in and out.

She can feel herself starting to build towards that perfectly sublime moment, but not yet, forcing herself to hold on a little longer. Instead, she moans softly, sucking in her bottom lip at the corner between her teeth as if pain will help. At least until that works against her, too.

The increasing pace has Sweeney feeling like he's stumbling forward, even while laying on his back. He's constantly trying to catch up as every muscle in her is pulling him along. There's no way to quiet the moans or winces as she claims him, but he does manage to shift his hands a little.

One slides a bit further back, as the other drifts forward, allowing him to feel like she's still steady on him (not that that was ever an actual risk) while urging his thumb over her clit. The pressure isn't cruel, but it's firm. He doesn't stroke her actively; Sweeney just makes sure it bounces in echo with each stroke she steals.

She could feel him moving and might have known what he was up to had she not been so pleasantly distracted by the pain that came with both taking him all in and her teeth burying into the soft flesh of her bottom lip. Even still, the first graze of the edge of his thumb against her already aching tender flesh has her whole body stiffen and the second results in a desperate gasp for more.

Laura rocks faster, chasing the feeling while her body wants to prematurely take what it wants. To writhe at how fucking good it feels to be with him. Every time is different. And yet, there is always something new that makes it feel like the first time.

His toes curl in his boots as he struggles to keep his focus and thumb in place. Fuck, she doesn't make it easy. Sweeney grits his teeth as she pushes her pace, but that only means his short breaths are accented with the occasional snarl. The attempts at remaining pressed to the bed are starting to fail, and his hips thrust up to meet her every few strokes.

Sweeney strains his chest, trying to get his mouth up to her skin; lips, neck, breasts; he's not that picky. He just wants to experience her with every sense he can manage.

Skin isn't something he will find with her still in her shirt, though it hangs loose and wandering hands will no doubt find their way to warm skin and very erect nipples. Lips are the easiest to access if only because kissing him is one of her favourite things to do that is encouraged when the entirety of the experience turns her hunger into greed.

Her commitment to fucking him senseless continues and her pace doesn't slow but she could feel herself starting to that familiar climb towards release and the thumb on her clit was only pushing her along faster.

Sweeney does his best to content himself with kissing her, but the closer she gets, the harder it is for him to focus, and at some point, he's mostly just grazing her lips as he pants against them. Fuck, he loves taking her, but being taken--claimed--and used to pleasure herself is like nothing else. He prays he can outlast her. The way she's working him, there's no guarantee.

Perhaps it's that wait that has him subconsciously picking up his attention against her clit, stroking her more properly in unison with each thrust.

Please please please please...

Edited (Spelling correction) 2023-11-29 01:41 (UTC)

A hand moves to his face, fingers curling around his neck with her thumb on a pulse point under his right earlobe. Her lips drag across his bottom lip, leaving a moan on them as she continues to fuck him and force herself closer and closer to the edge until she was finally there.

Laura's body goes rigid and her mouth opens but nothing comes out. Her fingers press deeper into his skin and a moment later she slows to savour the feel of him still deep inside her and lets out a deep growl that switches to a throaty wail.

"Fuckkk," she grunts, dragging her teeth down the length of his jaw to his neck.

Now it's his turn.

No additional effort is required. The feel of her mouth on his throat and the clench of her around him snaps the chain, and his grip jumps to her hips so he can keep her in place as he bucks the last dozen strokes he needs.

Where hers is silent, his climax comes with a sharp cry, and his fingers dig bruisingly into her flesh. Sweeney hangs there for a long moment before they start to loosen as he rides the aftershocks. A few seconds more, and one frees itself to catch her by the back of the head and meet her in a kiss of tired gratitude while twitches inside her.

The fact his release comes so soon after surprises her. She wasn't expecting it and not in a bad way. Quite the opposite really, despite the attention she paid him before mounting him. And while she continues to ride him slow and deliberately, milking him for everything he has in him, there's no doubt in her mind that she could spend all day, every day fucking him because god, does he make her feel good.

She settles more onto his chest, relishing in the final moments of her afterglow. When words are spoken, she's still a little breathless and a small laugh escapes and she opens her eyes to look at him.

"I'm not sure you knew this but you're a really great fuck."

God, the things she does to him. Even after, the diligence; both mercy and torture as she rocks against him. Sweeney's head falls back heavily, his body content. The rattle in his chest is a chuckle that's too tired to fully manifest, but his smile isn't subtle.

"I'll take the compliment, but I'm pretty sure you did the heavy liftin'," he teases, draping his arm around her and delicately moving her hair to allow some cool air against her skin.

"This time, yeah," she reasons. The both of them know he takes the lead most times and she's not complaining. It was nice to show him how much she appreciated him. Something she was used to doing for her sexual partners more often than not.

Laura gives him a smirk and lowers her head down, cheek pressing against his chest and gives herself a moment to come back to reality, which she very much doesn't want to do.

"Stay with me tonight?" she asks without looking up. It didn't even matter if they slept on the floor like they usually did.

"Course I will." Sweeney murmurs the words into her hair before kisses it. He doesn't want to be anywhere else. Big bed, big sky, and her pressed against him. His hand shifts so he can trace his fingertips along the back of her shirt-covered arm.

"Seems a pity ta have ya swimmin' in this thing all by yerself," he teases.

A few seconds later, and he squirms a touch, nestling a cigarette between his lips and digging for his lighter before executing the precarious lighting with one-handed grace. He sets the lighter on the nightstand and pulls a deep drag. Holding it, he offers her the cigarette.

thanks for ditching me with the losers for a month

hi

hey

you okay?

this was totally a fuck you for ditching me when you had your coma

clearly we're even now

don't you dare try to one-up me

if you do i will totally draw a dick on your forehead

yeah totally
dicks and stuff

hey so while you were sleeping beauty
there was this evil sword
i think it was a sword
it made people batshit

i kind of heard a little about it. were you affected?

[ is concerned ]

laura laura laura
are you asking about how i'm doing because you're worried?

you just happen to be the prior owner of the shirt i practically live in when i'm in my cabin.

so, maybe a little.

it's a good shirt
there's others too if you ever wanted to repeat it

[ It goes against the bit, sure, but he's being sincere. ]

i survived though
to answer your question
it was messy though

might be good to have a back-up. in case of emergency type thing.

[ ahem ]

messy how?

oh you know
hurtful words and fists swung

fratricide

[ thisisnottherighttimeforasouthparkquote. thisisNOTtherighttimeforasouthparkquote ]

it made you kill your brother?! holy fuck, rome.

how the hell did this sword get here? or whatever the fuck it was.

yeah kendalls fine
still looking like one of those rats you send through the minefields to sniff them out

hey so the thing is thats not really important

it's an image i'm having no problem with.

if it's not important then why the fuck even tell me about it in the first place? was it apart of a flood?

god shut up
you're so annoying

also i told sweeney we commit hanky panky

[ grins, but only as long as it takes for the second text to come in. ]

.....

let me guess. the sword made you fucking gloat, too? why the hell did you do that?

no
the sword made me want to hurt other people as much as i can

[ he could use laura to hurt sweeney, and he did without a single moment of hesitation ]

[ there's a short pause

oh. ]

verbally and physically, i'm guessing.

yeah
you came into play because of it
i was trying to goad him

sorry

would you have done if there was no sword or influence?

[ This feels like something. A test, some sort of trap. Roman narrows his eyes as he stares at it. ]

are you asking me if i've told anyone we're madly in hate with each other or are you asking me if you're my dirty little secret and i'm ashamed?

Edited 2023-11-03 17:14 (UTC)

neither. but i can't be mad if you were influenced by the sword. it's no different than what the barge puts us through all the other times. right?

appreciate you telling me though.

right
yeah of course, youre like you know
considered
when i verbally jizz all over the place i guess

sexy

you do that with all your dirty little secrets that you're not ashamed of?

god no
they stay in the closet like shiv has since high school

you're not like
pissed or anything are you?

about the whole us
sweeney
thing

no. being pissed would feel like regret and i'm not sorry for what we did. i am kind of surprised you didn't say anything before a curse made you do it because you kind of seem like the type...

he obviously didn't care

is that why you stabbed him and not the other way around?

im a private person ok
that shits not for everyone to know you know
vultures and shit

oh no he completely tried to kick the shit out of me i just had a knife

yeah so am i. in case you ever wondered.

i guess you did get under his skin if he got violent first.

[ that really surprises her actually. it could mean one of two things. ]

See? I win
i always win
house always wins? no
romey man
every time

Hey

Apparently Eiffel is doing a last minute Halloween thing.

If you're interested.

yeah, i noticed the flyers. if i can think up a costume between now and then, i'll be there.

You end up wanting help trying shit on, you let me know.

i'll keep that in mind.

you have an idea what you're going as?

Just gonna wear the same cassock as last year.

Don't wanna rush to do up something new.

[They don't carry a lot in his size down at the wardrobe.]

that's fair. and totally tongue in cheek.

And I happen to look pretty good in black.

So I hope to get to see you.

[Or he can just come by after, too.]

i'm sure you will. and looking forward to seeing it for myself.

i have good wine i dont drink now that my place is back to normal
you should have a bottle

red or white?

who the fuck do you think i am
both

i'm a whore for anything red.
break it open and let it breathe. im omw.

fine but if you start talking about releasing the tannins im going to kill you

i think i missed my sommelier calling, don't worry

[ a few minutes later she's knocking at his door. ]

[ Roman picks up right where they left off, finding it easy even if he looks like shit. His eyes are red from exhaustion and crying--he'll never admit that part--and he's wearing a T-shirt and pajama bottoms. He's not even wearing socks. And he needs to shave a bit, but that's easily overlooked since he usually has a bit of scruff. ]

Connor used to shove all of his wine in a blender, it drove me fucking nuts. Hi. Hiya.

The moment Raylan's second message had come through, Sweeney excused himself from Maggie's company. She'd be fine; she has other people. But Laura... This isn't something he'd trust to Roman, even if he could entertain the idea of not going. Which he can't. He's out the door and down the hall, tugging his shirt over his shoulders without bothering to button it. Sweeney doesn't expect to stay in it.

Then he's at her threshold, his eyes dancing over the door as he suddenly realizes he has no idea what he's supposed to do. How do you say 'I'm sorry you're hurting because a man you loved in another life is leaving you behind'? No part of that is bearable.

But it doesn't stop him from knocking.

She tried. So hard. But it only took a few minutes after Raylan left before Laura broke in a way that she never ever expected herself to. Emotion was something always prided herself on being able to control; her thick skin being the single most useful quality of hers that got her through everything shitty in her life.

Mostly.

Laura cried and struggled with what she was feeling, only drawing on the all too real memories of a life that came damn close to being perfect. Only to realize it was just a reminder that she was never worthy of love like that. Or any kind of love for that matter.

After spending some time in her bathroom washing her face, Laura heard the knock. For a moment she thought about not answering it, but then she found herself opening it and staring at him with glassy eyes, somehow knowing why he's there.

"He tell you, too?" Laura asks, her voice breaking softly. She nods when he gives her the confirmation. "I feel like such an idiot.."

For allowing him to make me feel any of this.

Of all the pain he's been shoveling on top of the rest, the sight of her gouges him unexpectedly. She looks so much...smaller. Fragile. Something he never expected, and he doesn't know how to understand. But he has the overwhelming impulse to comfort her. Unfortunately, Sweeney's toolbox isn't very diverse.

He bends to kiss her, firmly but without lust. It's something seeking connection, so they both can know they're not alone in this. Sweeney cups her neck, but doesn't linger in the kiss. Breaking it, he presses his forehead to hers.

"Me too," he whispers. A long moment lets the weight of it sink in, but then he curls further to scoop her up and knock the door shut with his boot. Although he's crossing to the bed, there's no hint of wantonness. He doesn't seek her lips or pluck at her clothes; he just wants to hold her close.

For the moment, Laura only thinks about herself. At least until he agrees with her and she remembers how much longer Sweeney has been on the barge. How many people he's seen come and go. Really, at this point, she has to wonder if there's any point in even trying to connect with people anymore.

Of course, he's different. Always has been. Laura's lost him before and her brain likes to remind her in all kinds of ways of how she can lose him again. At least when he kisses her, all of those fears are temporarily whisked away by his desire to protect her from those worries. God, she appreciates him for that.

Her face nestles inwards against his neck, and when they reach the foot of the bed, Laura pulls her arm across to his other shoulder and holds him tightly. "I'm sorry you lost your friend."

He's got one knee on the bed when she speaks, and it gives him pause. Sweeney wants to deny it; to buck against the name of the thing and say that's not what it was. But to do that would be a lie. And he doesn't want to do that to her, even if he could.

"Me too," he whispers, nudging at her in a faint nuzzle.

Sweeney's chest hurts. He's not sure if it's better or worse with her, here and now. But it's different than when he'd held Maggie so recently. Maybe he's just tired. Maybe she let's him be tired. Broken. Let's him sit down and not have to put on the face of 'it's just another challenge, own it and rise above; you'll get there someday'. He doesn't let himself want to stop; to give up and sit down and wait; but at the end of the day, that's because she's here. If he did, people would move on. Maggie would get an Inmate who could actually save her world. Someone else would pick up Inventory and gardening and...whatever else it is that he does. But Sweeney can't bear the thought of leaving her here. Alone. Especially now that Raylan's gone. No, he wouldn't willingly do that to her.

But she'd understand.

She's been in that hot tub, bug spray in hand. She knows what it's like when that's the best option. But it isn't. Not now. Not while she's here and at risk.

A quick swallow gets him refocused, and he continues onto the bed. Sweeney doesn't lay her out; he just awkwardly crawls and twists to sit with his back against the wall and her curled up in his lap.

"I'm sorry you lost..." Whatever he was. More than a friend, without question. "...someone precious." It's not self-deprecating, just honest empathy.

"There ain't fillin' a hold made like that." He still holds Tiffany's, even when he does his best not to think on it. How do you recover from losing the love of your life? Even if it isn't this one.

Edited (Timeline correction) 2024-02-16 03:57 (UTC)

Like him, Laura finds herself wanting to deny that Raylan was anything more to her; the word somehow too meaningful and beyond what she's capable of seeing in people.But then Sweeney has to mention what she sort of already knew and suddenly there was a desire to hide from him and any emotion that threatened to give away how she was truly feeling. The last thing she wants to do is look vulnerable.

In the end, she's thankful it's not him. Things would be so much worse if it was.

Once he'd stops moving, Laura settles against him, the side of her face pressed softly against the top part of his chest. A momentary silence falls and finally she looks up.

"The shittiest part is that I'm pretty sure he doesn't plan to come back," Laura says quietly. The notion makes her a little angry because then Raylan lied. At which point, she wonders if she's an idiot for letting herself hurt for someone who told her something that wasn't true because it made leaving easier.

Sweeney doesn't answer right away, stealing a moment for a slow breath. He wants to tell her that worry is unfounded, that of course Raylan intends to come back--that he will be back. But that's a lie, or at least a sugar-coasted fairytale, and one not meant for her consumption.

"I don't know," he whispers, in empathy, not counter. "Either way, I think he doesn't wanna hurt you, e'en though he knew he would. Did." Even with him still here, part of him was already missing. It'd been that way with Tiffany too, when she'd said she was leaving. Sweeney nuzzles into her hair.

"I know, it dunn't make it hurt less." A lull hangs. Now what? He does his best.

"I'm not sure either of us know what we need, but I'm plannin' ta stay like this 'til we got another idea." Or they get hungry or something. But he's willing to skip work for her, if he happens to be here that long.

"As long as ya like."

Laura knows Raylan wouldn't want to hurt her. She also knows that his reasons are solid enough and she's the one being selfish by wanting him to stay. Of course, it wouldn't be just for her. There were others who he meant something to, perhaps more than she can comprehend because he's a first for her. As reluctant as she was towards that idea.

She listens to his voice through his chest and runs through all the things she wants to do aside from be upset and let rage build inside her over not being able to control how she feels about Raylan leaving. As far as she's concerned, he's gone. He disappeared the moment she closed the door behind him once he'd taken his leave.

How many times is it fair to draw out a good-bye?

"I don't want to give myself any reason to think about it anymore," she replies a moment later, her tone evident with twinge of ire and defiance. Her hand smooths up under his over-shirt and fingers curl over one shoulder before wrapping around the side of his neck. She looks up at him. "Can you help me with that?"

[ There is a neatly pressed dress shirt at her door with a handwritten note on Waystar Royco letterhead. ]

Don't settle.
-Roman

Hey

Something's going on

I don't know what it is yet.

But it's bad

People are disappearing.

I think it might be my fault.

So I need you to stay away.

Just for a while.

Til I know

I just need to know you're safe.

From me.

[A few moments pass.]

I couldn't live with myself if I hurt you like that.

[ oho, that's a big fuck no look on her face ]

what's going on?

can't just drop that shit on me at a time like this and expect me to just be okay with it.

John and Arthur disappeared.

Natalie too.

All three had just told me how they care.

And want to support me.

And that I deserve nice things in my life.

...

[Deleted]

...

[Deleted]

[A beat passes.]

You're a nice thing in my life.

And

[A couple seconds more.]

I'm afraid

[ she gets to the last part and reads, re-reads it, reads it aloud and then sets her phone down for a moment that feels entirely longer than it actually was.

she types back slowly... ]

you're the only good thing i have in mine.

i'm not going anywhere. i promise.

[She can't know that. That's the whole fucking point. But he knows he can't just say that. It takes him a few seconds to come up with something.]

Are you willing to wait 2 days?

Just so we can see if anyone else disappears?

Then I'll be on your doorstep, desperate to have you in my arms.

To know everything's ok.

Is that ok?

[ she thought that her word would be enough. would she really be able to get through two days? forty-eight hours seems like such a long time.

but after a moment she sighs deeply and reluctantly agrees. only because she's sure he'll duck and dodge her even if she does adamantly disagree. ]

i really don't like this... but fine.

two days. from the time you found out the last person left.

[ petulant, yes. very much. ]

[That's a fair counter.]

I'll bring breakfast.

Just tell me what you want for it.

just coffee

[ that'll make him smile, she hopes. ]

[Enough to ease his heart when he hadn't been able to imagine something that could. It's surprising and welcome.]

Coffee

You got it.

[A beat later.]

You best clear your schedule for the day.

[Because he plans to be spending it with her. The thought of it gives him something to focus on; both a distraction and goal for the next two days.]

funny, i was going to tell you the same thing.

[ she wants to bet that he won't make it the full two days, but decides against it because she barely believes she can hold off. he's become something of an addiction now.

the next text is about as honest as she has ever been with him. ]

i hope you're as miserable as i know i'll be. but i guess i'll see you soon.

Got no doubt.

[For many reasons.]

Just reminds me you're worth the wait.

so are you.

[ she hesitates the next part, but knows how important it is for her to tell him. it may only be two days but days on the barge sometimes drag. ]

i'll miss you.

And I you.

We can do this.

[Together. Even when they're apart.]

i know. just not going to be easy.

see you soon.

<3

Hey

So

Florian and Johann are having a party.

I didn't know if you wanted to go.

[A beat passes.]

With me

i'd really like that. so, yes, i would.

[Sweeney isn't sure what he expected, but it wasn't that. It takes him a second to respond.]

Good

Great

I mean

I'd like that too.

[A couple of seconds later.]

It's Florian

So it's probably going to be fancy.

Is that ok?

fancy or sexy

bc i can pull off both

Can't be both?

[Hope delays the follow up for a few seconds.]

Fancy

If I gotta choose.

For Florian.

[Oh, the sacrifices he makes.]

contact

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Laura's Cabin

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Text about Fight Club

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text;

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A Quick Call

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post flood;

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cw so much misogyny and classism

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nsfw from here on out im assuming not that this entire thread hasn't been