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Post by Xarae on Jan 4, 2009 22:32:29 GMT
"Hiyah!"
Thundering echoed in her ears, the delicious noise of hooves on scree and brush all she could feasibly hear. Rolo had grown up to a proud but fleet footed gelding, and Delaney was as proud as she could possibly be of the sturdy paint horse. The darling boy had grown trustworthy and honest, hardly the spiteful beast he was two years ago. Galloping across the brush now, she felt completely at ease. Laney felt it was about time to pay Jason a visit again, seeing as it had been so terribly long since they'd last run into each other.
Delaney didn't care for him too much, but he was good for a laugh and it got awfully lonely over at Cascade. She needed human company today, something Rolo just couldn't provide. As the hut loomed closer into view, she urged her faithful steed on. Rolo snorted and stretched out his legs, head held high.
Laney laughed, thumping her heels against his side. Giving a tiny kick, the gelding sprang forward into a flat out run. Exhilaration flooded her veins as she pulled him up to a skidding stop by the corral outside of the hut. Delaney leapt off his back and patted the gelding's neck fondly before removing the heavy saddle and turning him out into the corral. Rolo kicked up his heels and cantered into the enclosure, dropping his head shortly after to lip at sweet hay on the ground.
Smiling absently, Delaney laid the saddle carefully on the ground and strode over to the hut. Though her hat was sitting on her head at a rakish angle, she didn't seem to notice (or care). Rapping loudly on the door, she leaned back and began to rock back and forth on her heels.
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Post by Tiggs on Jan 4, 2009 22:59:03 GMT
The hut was surprisingly neat after a winter untended. As of yet, Jason was the only man up here. The rest were yet to return. Spring was a turbulent time, and after returning before the really strange weather set in, Jason was congratulating himself of cleaning up the hut ready for this years work. Congratulating himself with a bottle of whiskey, half of which was already drunk despite it only being midday.
The knock at the door started the wrangler, his limbs jerking though the alcohol in his system meant his heart didn't start at the unexpected sound. Boot stomping on the wooden floor, he got to his feet and stumbled across the room to the door. He leaned on it for support while he opened the catch, and almost fell onto the visitor when it swung open onto the porch.
He peered at the girl for a moment, his brow furrowed in confusion until the light dawned. "Well if it ain't the Yankee girl, come to fix me up again I see." He gave a broad grin, his breath quite noticeably intoxicated. He brandished the bottle at the little blond, almost falling backward through the door as way of invitation. He weaved his way back over to the chair he had been occupying. He managed with more luck than skill to sit back in it. "Look, I scrubbed up special an' all for ya'." He gave a broad sweep with the same arm that held the whiskey bottle, and frowned when some of the amber liquid sloshed onto his hand.
After licking the precious spillage from his skin, he remembered he had a guest and lolled his head back against the chair to look over at her. "Pull up a chair Sheila. I might spare you a drop." He winked, slipping down a little in the varnished wooden seat, his elbows supporting him on the arms of the chair so he didn't fall completely onto the floor.
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Post by Xarae on Jan 4, 2009 23:14:37 GMT
His breath stank like a bottle shop. Laney wrinkled her nose, stepping back quickly to avoid being blasted by his alcohol saturated voice again. "Uh..." For once, she was at a loss for words. She hadn't known that Jason liked to go on drinking binges, so she filed it away in the back of her mind as useful information. However, as Jason was prone to do, he rubbed her the wrong way. Laney narrowed her eyes and tilted her chin upwards self-importantly. "Yankee?" She hissed, shoving his shoulder a bit. It wouldn't take much to best him when he was flat out drunk like he was, but there wasn't much fun in it if he wasn't on top of his game.
Delaney sighed and followed him inside, questioning herself even as she did. Why did she always fall into these schemes? She yawned softly, glancing around the newly spic-and-span hut. It was true, he had done a good job cleaning. Everything shone softly and looked fresh and new. Like Jason, she was one of the only up at her hut yet. The cleaning had been left up to her as well, and she'd done a less than adequate job. "Huh, well didn't you do an ace job," Laney teased, standing awkwardly in front of him as there were no other chairs set out yet. "I think you clean like a right nice sheila," The young woman added, snickering under her breath.
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Post by Tiggs on Jan 4, 2009 23:30:59 GMT
Jason frowned, working slowly through the compliment. He glared, a teasing curl to his lips. "I ain't no sheila, Sheila." He pointed the bottle neck at her accusingly, and set the whiskey down on the floor. He lurched to his feet, almost bowling over the girl. He took hold of her shoulders, noting their daintiness under is workman's hands as he steadied himself. His calloused hands lingered. "Ain't no sheila." He told her again. "Blokes clean too. Jus' 'cause its a sheila job don't mean a bloke can't do it better."
He huffed, warm whiskey-smelling breath shifting stray locks of her hair in its wake. He closed his eyes, wavering a little. It took him a moment to steady himself, after which he deftly stole her hat from her head and placed it on his own head. The too-small stetson sat high on his skull, but he didn't seem to notice or care. After a jaunty wink, he released her shoulders and staggered over to some cupboards, rooting through it and all the canned food there. After finding something of interested, he reached for his pocket and bought out a switchblade. His hands were clumsy, and he tried and failed to stab the blade into the top of the can to open in. He grumbled at it, and kept trying, succeeding only in denting the metal of the can.
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Post by Xarae on Jan 5, 2009 0:09:17 GMT
Her heart rate accelerated slightly when he placed his hands on her, but Laney refused to panic. He wasn't going to do anything... he was just drunk. Laney shrugged his hands off of her shoulders, glaring at him when he grabbed her hat. "That's no way to treat a lady," She griped, walking after him as he strode towards the kitchen. Delaney wanted her hat back - it made her feel uncomfortable. There wasn't much she could do except trail awkwardly after him, so she settled for that. However, being a spectator to his drunken stupidity was quite amusing as well. In fact, it was almost worth sacrificing her hat. Delaney smiled blithely, watching him poke and prod the can that just refused to comply.
After he failed a fourth time, she snickered and crept up behind him. Laney wrapped her arms around his waist from behind, maneuvering the knife out of his hand and into her own. She grabbed the can and impaled the lid neatly with a satisfying popping noise. Using his testosterone to her advantage, she lingered behind for a moment and pressed her torso into his back as she leaned up (way, way) up and grabbed her hat back. Laney placed it on her head and danced away, striding back to the chair and sitting down. "You can thank me later, mate."
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Post by Tiggs on Jan 5, 2009 1:18:40 GMT
The drunken man gave the girl a feeble swat, covering the fuzzy warmth in his lower stomach (that had nothing to do with the large amount of alcohol already imbibed) with a grumble. It was a fairly embarrassing thing to have the little woman pierce the can with the blade when he could not, but at least he was drunk enough that his ego was satisfied to have a blond woman cozying up to him - even if her intentions were not to set his drunken one-track-mind on that particular track.
He watched her with dilated pupils as she pranced away with her reclaimed hat. He'd forgotten what he was trying to do with the can, so he left it - the knife still impaled in its lid - on the table. Pushing away from the surface, he wobbled over to the chair and knelt on the floor with a jarring thud as his knees hit the floorboards. He groped for the bottle of whiskey, and shuffled around to sit back against Delaney's knees. He took a swig of drink and pulled a face at the sting of it in the back of his throat. He turned his head and rested his stubbled chin on his guest's trouser'd knee.
"Yanno, if you wanna be treated like a sheila, you should dress like one." He chuckled, pillowing his cheek on her knee and closing his eyes as the drink began to tire him.
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Post by Xarae on Jan 6, 2009 22:30:35 GMT
Delaney rolled her eyes and placed a lazy hand on his head. She ran her fingers through his hair absently, fingering the dirty blonde strands with an impersonal touch. The young woman had seen Jason at his absolute worst and handled his vomit - there was little inhibitions left between the pair of them, at least from her point of view. Delaney yawned absently, patting his cheek when he rested his head against her knee.
"I do too dress like a sheila," Laney complained, surreptitiously unbuttoning the first three buttons of her blue plaid shirt. She smirked slightly, leaning down and hovering just above his head. "See? I dress like a sheila," Delaney murmured, arching her back slightly and making her chest appear more prominent. Oh, it was too fun to fool with drunkards. In this state, Jason would most likely play right into her game. "I'm surprised you never noticed," Laney whined, sounding deeply hurt. She pouted slightly, pushing her lower lip out and lowering her eyelashes slightly.
"You're so mean, Jason..."
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Post by Tiggs on Jan 6, 2009 23:11:50 GMT
True to his nature, Jason rolled his eyes up at the movement and stared almost dutifully at the 'V' her shirt created. It was an almost lazy stare, though the half-lidded eyes were most likely due to the combination of a morning's physical labour and the late effects of alcohol numbing his body. The corner of his mouth curled, though, and he glanced up to her eyes briefly while he talked. He wasn't a complete ruffian, after all.
"Never did say I didn't notice you were a sheila, but honey, you don't dress like one." He lifted the whiskey bottle and set it on her other knee, holding it in place with his hand. "That there, that's undressing." He said with a devilish glint to his baby-blues.
His gaze lingered on her eyes for a moment, and then made its way to her pouting lip. He watched her mouth as he wiggled the bottle on her knee. "I ain't mean. See, I'm sharin'." He brandished the bottle, holding it up and making eye contact. It was a form a sharing, the type of sharing that was definitive, and wouldn't take no for an answer.
His free arm circled the calf of the leg he leaned against, long fingers holding her lower leg. It was almost possessive, but past that and the heat in his eyes, his smile still had that warm openness that silently declared she did have a choice.
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Post by Xarae on Jan 6, 2009 23:35:00 GMT
The attention he was paying her was drug-like. Delaney was sure she could get drunk off of this affection - the warmth of his cheek on her knee, that heated gaze... everything about Jason was hot today. He was nearly emanating warmth, saturating her with his glow. Laney smiled briefly as she caught his eyes, which were intent on the cleavage she'd created. Perhaps she was being quick to jump to the point, but there was something about seeing him at his most vulnerable so long ago that had created a need to see him in a different light. However, here she was - and there he was, just as malleable and helpless as if he was stricken once more. What a predicament...
Delaney didn't bother to move away the bottle when he placed it on her knee, instead glancing at his eyes again. He had that same half-awake, bed-room eyes expression that was nearly driving her crazy. "Undressing? No," Laney clucked softly, shaking her head before continuing, "I'm a right respectable sheila... I wouldn't do any such thing with a rude cowboy about," She murmured, running her fingers absently through his hair once again.
She felt his arm circle around her calf and suddenly felt a bit constricted. He was laying claim to her body, something she didn't like nor feel comfortable with; however, she consoled herself with the bottle he was offering her. Perhaps she wouldn't feel so bothered by it if she had a little sip. Delaney accepted the bottle and took a swig, wincing at the taste and coughing violently before she handed it back. "Why thank you, darling," Delaney murmured, her voice slightly husky now. Those eyes... there was just something about them that set her at ease, despite the fluttering feeling in her heart that signaled the possible onset of a panic attack. "Just keep looking at me, Jay," Laney said absently, leaning down and resting her chin on his head.
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Post by Tiggs on Jan 7, 2009 0:01:01 GMT
When she handed back the bottle, he set it on the floor with the foresight to put it out of toppling range should he accidental knock into it. He liked the feel of her delicate hand on his head, and wished he hadn't drunken quite so much that he could barely feel it.
He rested his head back on her knee before she leaned down to rest her head on his like some odd stacking game. "I can't be lookin' at you if you do that, lame brain." He took his head from under hers, sitting up a little straighter and lifting his hand. He held her chin, supporting her head and keeping her from sitting up just yet. As they were, their heads were level, and Jason settled his eyes on hers.
"If that ain't undressing, and you're a respectable sheila, then I ain't a rude cowboy, which makes this apples." He leaned in slowly, keeping his eyes on her as she asked. She had plenty of room to sit up and plenty of time to react. He even lessened his touch on her chin so she could escape though as a red-blooded male, he really hoped she didn't.
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