(Untitled)
The Bar has been haunting him.
All Puck wanted was some breakfast, really. That was all. Instead, he got a rose and a note-- ten apologies you might have more use for. The rose is now in the trilobyte tank; Puck is certain the little creatures will appreciate it. However, further attempts to obtain nourishment have only resulted in more ... well, ( Read more... )
All Puck wanted was some breakfast, really. That was all. Instead, he got a rose and a note-- ten apologies you might have more use for. The rose is now in the trilobyte tank; Puck is certain the little creatures will appreciate it. However, further attempts to obtain nourishment have only resulted in more ... well, ( Read more... )
Seriously. Odds are good he's not going to either sing at her or drool on her.
"And... wow. Have you been shopping or, uh, something?"
She's not sure if they're presents or if this is maybe just Puck's usual grocery list.
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"Hardly," he says crisply, flopping down onto one of the nearby lounge chairs. The assortment of objects is now in his lap, and receiving a look of deep disgust.
"'Tis merely a bit of trash that wants dealing with."
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Lilly gives him her best 'concerned wife' look.
"This is what I'm here for. Pass over the chocolates and I'll deal with them- while you explain to me why the hell that fish is singing. God, are our children contagious?"
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He makes a face, picking up the chocolates and tossing them lightly to Lilly. "Perhaps it yearns for home. Though if it continues, I think I may take off its head."
A beat.
"Aria might benefit from the demonstration."
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"I like it. Make the fish an example to the children, scare a little silence into them."
She pops a chocolate into her mouth.
"Still," she continues, somewhat muffledly. "You haven't said where you got the fish or any of the rest of it. Is Bar giving out door prizes now?"
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"Sadly, were the Lady Bar to distribute gifts at random, I doubt that she should choose to favor me." He scowls. "Not that any of these have a name to them, but the guessing of it is no great trial. Extravagance, as he says, is what he does."
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Lilly eyes Puck a little dubiously.
"Did you get a new fling while I was stabbed?"
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"Or so I thought, at least."
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"Ew, a clingy one? That sucks. I can totally sympathize."
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"Not precisely, I'm afraid."
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Two, tops. Lilly's in an exaggerating mood.
"Let's get some drinks to go with the chocolates and you can tell me everything. I desperately need some good gossip."
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"I should hate to deny you anything, dearest. Particularly not by way of gossip." He rises, depositing the gum, matchbook, marzipan, macaroni, and swan at Lilly's side (the fish he crams under the seat cushion so that if it insists on singing at least he won't have to hear it).
"What will you have?"
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"But really, anything frozen and fruity will do. I have to keep up with my vitamins while I'm recovering, you know."
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Lilly's comes with extra lime wedges!
"Here you are, darling," he says, settling back in his chair with his own drink. "Now, where precisely ought I to start? I fear I have been rather remiss in seeking out your company-- although, in my defense, you have had quite an array of visitors." He sighs. "Regardless. It has been quite the fortnight."
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"Start with who the lucky limpet is, how you met, how he won you over, that sort of thing," she says.
"And then once you've been fortified with a drink or two, you can tell me where it all went wrong."
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Let's not waste time here, shall we?
"His name is Darren Nichols," he mutters.
"And I suspect that none of it should have begun at all had it not been for the cherries."
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