for ltbrownnoser.

[obediences]

lost in time.

Comments

[ltbrownnoser]

Her eyebrows lift a little at Luther's response. Over time, she's willing to credit herself for having been able to peel back his protective layers slowly, but slowly is the keyword there. The filler word and the stunted structure of his sentences when he elaborates implies a subject matter Luther seldom discusses and never initiates conversations about.

He looks up at the sky, still pouring rain down on them and Sarah leans forward to take the opportunity to nip playfully at his adam's apple before unlinking her ankles at his back and letting her legs drop so that, when he lets go, she can drop back to the ground. "Well when you put it like that, absolutely we should head back," she agrees, the tone in her voice suggesting that he hadn't really needed to even pose that question; he had to have already known the answer.

"I would love to hear these ideas, by the way," she adds, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Perhaps you can regale me on the drive, my darling," she suggests, though some part of her doubts he'll indulge that particular request.

[obediences]

There's that faint heat in his cheeks that is, predictably, Luther starting to blush again. "Maybe," he says, although it's unlikely. Still, the man wanders gamely back over to the car, where they indulge in a quick little bout of rock-paper-scissors in the pouring rain to decide who sits behind the wheel (no more standing on formality and Number One always needing to be the one in the driver's seat).

He does not, in fact, regale her with his salacious thoughts on their drive back home — Luther's still too easily-embarrassed, too buttoned-up. He has ideas, fantasies he'd like to try, but trying to force those words out through his tight-clenched jaw to actually talk about them is, so far, impossible. Pinning nebulous thoughts into the blunt stark words of speaking out loud about it, well. He still can't do it.

So they talk about safer things instead: logistics, their plans for repairs around the makeshift house, their supply run for tomorrow. When they get back, the first thing they have to do peel themselves out of their drenched clothes. Luther winds up in boxers and his usual rumpled tank top, scrubbing at his hair with a towel until it stands up disheveled at unruly angles, then draping the towel around his neck as he rejoins her in the kitchen. Then afterwards they'll be onto dinner, bed, sleep; it's becoming a routine.

"I miss real showers," he muses.

[ltbrownnoser]

Mild disappointment, but not surprise, settle over the conversation in the car as it becomes increasingly clear that his ideas for things they could try are not going to be making an appearance in it. Instead, discussion settles around more practical things which, as always, is a necessary bore so far as Sarah's concerned.

When they return to the house in which they've been squatting, Sarah stands in the downpour a little longer, washing free some of the mud she'd splashed onto her clothes in her dancing about. Then, she strips them off and stands in the rain a bit longer, taking the closest thing to a shower as she's had in entirely too long. Soap, she thinks, would've been nice, but they haven't run across any in a bit and they've been rationing what little they do have. Seeing as how it's been less than a week since she last used it, it seems unfair to take more than her due just because. Besides, they're both filthy. They've learned to stop noticing and/or caring, by now. At least, she has.

When she's finished, Sarah changes into a pair of panties and pulls on an overshirt so that the bra and the rest of her clothes can dry when they're hung in a back bedroom with Luther's wet clothes. The overshirt does little to actually hide the body beneath it, but at least she's not walking around topless when it's soon to be dinner. Sarah prefers her nudity, to be sure, but not when she's eating. There's something distasteful about that which even Sarah cannot move past to indulge.

Sarah looks up from the makeshift stove they've built out of a little firepit created on the stovetop and an old baking rack propped up by two metal coffee cans when she hears his voice. "That makes two of us," she agrees. Cold, sporadic showers in the rain or sponge baths never feel as satisfying, as it turns out. "Maybe one of these days, we gather enough water to boil and fill the tub," she suggests, "and then when it cools, we can share. Equal parts practical and incredibly sexy, no?" she asks, only half-joking.

There's a smirk on her expression as she goes back to stirring the soup — a mix of two dented cans they'd found among the rubble of what looked like a convenience store on today's supply run: cream of celery and cream of chicken — they'll be using as a base. Sarah had also had the fortune of stumbling across an abandoned sack of potatoes and while it had been half-empty, none of them had been soft, bruised, or growing any eyes yet, so Sarah considers it a pretty big win. It's pretty easy to ignore the blood dried onto one corner of the sack when one is hungry enough.

"Don't suppose you'd like to take a couple of those out on the porch to hold out in the rain and try to wash them before you cut them up for me, would you?" she asks, lifting her eyebrows slightly. "Then maybe we can talk about something more interesting while we're cooking than we discussed while we were driving, hey?" If she sounds a little hopeful under the playful tone, there's a reason for it.

[obediences]

It's just practical enough to intrigue him, so Luther's completely serious in his response: "That actually sounds like a really good idea. Not sure if we'll both fit in the tub at the same time, though, but it's worth a try."

The perpetual straight-man, as ever. But at her suggestion, he gamely hangs up his towel and then takes the potatoes. "Yes, ma'am. I dunno if you've noticed, though, but I'm a pretty boring guy," he says with a tug of a smile at the corner of his mouth, a bout of self-deprecating humour. It had been one of the running jokes back at the Academy: Luther and how he only cared about the job, the missions, training, astronomy, flight training, marksmanship, (Allison), reading, music, and more training. His life was a limited scope.

That, though, made him start thinking. Firelight and their stack of salvaged books and comics meant that he could at least indulge his passion for reading, but...

By the time he returns with the rinsed potatoes, he's had time to think over it and come back prepared with a better conversation topic than repair logistics: "You know what else I miss? Music. I used to have a huge vinyl collection. The odds of finding a working old-fashioned wind-up gramophone don't seem great, but if we could get a working generator going and get some electricity for a record player..."

He sounds a little wistful.

"And, well, anything else we could use electricity for. Could you recharge Vortex Manipulator if we found a generator?"

[ltbrownnoser]

"We'd fit just fine if we position ourselves just right, although perhaps that's not ideal for being clean..." she replies loftily, shrugging.

When Luther returns with the potatoes, Sarah smiles and moves to join him with two cutting boards and two knives, one of each which she gives to Luther. So they can each do some of the work. The more potatoes they add, the more sustaining the soup will seem, as far as she's concerned, so the more they can do, the better.

"Mate, I love music as much as the next bird, but if we get a generator, the first thing I want is a hot shower instead of a bloody cold one," she points out. "It would be nicer to be dancing to the same song, though, yeah?" she asks with a small smile as she gets to work chopping up the potato she's taken first after deciding she might as well leave the skin on for a little bit more...something, she guesses.

Considering briefly, Sarah shrugs. "Dunno, I never actually tried to recharge it in the 21st century," she says honestly. "Probably? But even if it's charged up, unless they've fixed the Vortex, that doesn't really change much, I'm afraid," she sighs. Still, maybe they have done, but without a charged Vortex Manipulator, there's exactly fuck all that Sarah can do to take advantage of it.

After a long moment as she quietly goes on chopping, Sarah speaks up again. "I miss alcohol," she confesses. "I'm not a lush, but Christ, I miss it a lot more than I thought I would. It's really nice at the end of a rough day and here, we haven't anything. Oh, and the Leisure Planets...fucking hell...I really miss those..."

[obediences]

Hearing her initial confession, Luther glances over from his spot at the counter, an eyebrow raised. "That's much easier to get a hold of than a generator or working music, though. I mean, we could fix that. There's got to be some wine cellars where some bottles are still intact. If we widen the search a little, we could probably scavenge some stuff."

At the inevitable surprised look from her — Luther Hargreeves, wanting to build a liquor collection? — he shrugs a sheepish shoulder. "It takes the edge off. I'd just started getting a taste for alcohol when the world ended. So I wouldn't mind a drink every once in a while, either."

He isn't ever planning on full-tilt drowning himself in a boozed-up haze again, but Sarah was right: just unwinding at the end of a rough day? Could be nice.

"And judging by past escapades, am I gonna be completely scandalised if you provide more details about Leisure Planets, or...?"

[ltbrownnoser]

Sarah first gives Luther a look of surprise that he might actually have an idea for this very thing. Then, it shifts into something closer to dubious. "I don't reckon it would be as strong as the stuff in my time, which is what I meant, but I suppose beggars can't be choosers, actually," she relents, giving him a small smile. Her eyebrows lift again, though, to circle back to her initial surprise.

"It does, agreed. You just seemed a lot more of the boy scout type to me, so I'm a bit surprised that you'd put any thought into not only looking for some but, from the sounds of it, gathering a small stockpile," she adds with a little laugh. Blimey, all this time with no one but Luther to connect with and he still finds ways to take her off her guard without even trying.

Humming a soft laugh, Sarah shakes her head and uses the blade of the knife to push the diced pieces of potato out of her way so that she can start on a second. "The Leisure Planets are just a cluster of small planets devoted to, well. Leisure. Some have themes. Think amusement park only an entire planet, yeah? Bit like that. Some are quite literally planet-sized theme parks, but others are more like giant all-inclusive resorts. There's one that would almost definitely scandalize you but I am heartbroken to report that I have never had the luck to be assigned to a mission there and the fees for a legitimate stay there are astronomical, so I'm afraid I can't tell you much about that one. Disappointing, that, given I love making you blush," she comments with a little smirk.

Sarah finishes with the potatoes and then adds hers to the makeshift stew. "I reckon once you finish and add yours, we can simmer it for a few hours. That should help make it a bit less...bland, I should think, but...I can crank the heat and get it done a lot sooner if you're hungry and don't want to wait. What do you say, Luther?" she asks, genuinely interested to know how he'd prefer to proceed. This isn't just about her, after all. She's increasingly growing comfortable with the idea that everything, now, is about them and not her. It's...an interesting change, to say the least.