44 Blueberry Hill, Front Porch, Tuesday Midday
Okay, so Sam had skipped out on work yesterday, but he'd told himself he had a good enough reason, though whether or not Piper would believe him was a different story. What with Phoebe's due date approaching and that freakishly intense blonde Cylon's promise to come back and take him and the girls 'home,' wherever the hell the Colonies called home now, not to mention lingering concerns about the Seer . . .
Well, he didn't really want to stray far from home. The last time he'd smoked he'd regretted it, and it had been disgusting, but right now he really, really wanted to. Instead, he sat out on the porch, feet planted against the floor as he rocked the swing back and forth and drummed his fingers restlessly against his knee.
And worried. He was good at that.
[OOC: Expecting someone, but open, porchily so. It's a word, hush. ETA: Hey, you, grubby little Canadian kid with the gross baseball cap, the one who does news tonight? NFB on the details of Sam and Piper's convo, you got it? Oh, and take a shower. Or ten.]
Well, he didn't really want to stray far from home. The last time he'd smoked he'd regretted it, and it had been disgusting, but right now he really, really wanted to. Instead, he sat out on the porch, feet planted against the floor as he rocked the swing back and forth and drummed his fingers restlessly against his knee.
And worried. He was good at that.
[OOC: Expecting someone, but open, porchily so. It's a word, hush. ETA: Hey, you, grubby little Canadian kid with the gross baseball cap, the one who does news tonight? NFB on the details of Sam and Piper's convo, you got it? Oh, and take a shower. Or ten.]