Log: Try Out
Who: Jaeyi, P'draig
When: Afternoon, day 28, month 11, turn 21 of the 10th interval
Where: Great Hall/Jaeyi's Room, Fort Hold
What: Paddy and Jaeyi both have try outs for journeyman rank at Fort Hold. While they wait on the results, they fall to talking and Paddy shares his proposed menu for the Beachhouse. Jaeyi has suggestions. One of those leads back to her bed.
Mostly food talk. A little implied nookie at the end.
Having one's work criticised by a panel of old men can be utter nerve-wracking, so it's understandable that Jaeyi looks relieved to abandon the kitchens and plop herself down in one of the side-tables in the main hall, with a big plate of cookies and a tall glass of milk and a hand busily fanning her face. Whatever she thought of being invited to take the test in the first place, whatever she thought of taking it with a /rider/ of all things-- not a word to either, just cookies and milk and a seat where she can wiggle her fingers at him whenever P'draig makes his exit.
Sweaty and a little bit stained from the mad-dash that last challenge posed, P'draig follows after, though his comfort of choice is a pitcher of lemonade with ice cubes, actual cubes, not shavings from a glacier, clinking in it. He grins, waves back for that finger-wiggle and drops down beside her with his pitcher and an empty glass. "I'm not sure if I should offer you any, on the theory that the lemonade might curdle all that milk," he notes with a waggle of his glass and picks up the pitcher to fill it.
"You oughta offer it anyway," Jaeyi begins with cheerful certainty. "Then, when I say yes, you'll feel obligated to give me your glass, and then you'll spend the whole rest of the conversation being puzzled why I'd accept your lemonade if I'm not even gonna drink it." With one finger, she half-pushes, half-spins the cookies away from her own personal space and more into the communal region of the table, share and share alike. "Trust me, I've been through this song-and-dance loooooots of times. --How do you think it went?"
"I meant inside your stomach, rather than in your glass," P'draig notes, amused, "but you know, if you want to tempt fate ..." left dangling and he smiles, nods for he nudge of cookies nearer, takes one and a healthy bite out of it too, once the glass is filled. "Yeah? How many times? And uh ... I think okay. Not as smoothly as I wanted it to," he says with a little frown. "I practiced a lot, but maybe not enough."
First time she's wondered about it, probably, Jaeyi asks, "Does that happen, do you think? I'm sure I've had milk and lemonade pretty close together at some point in my life." But not today, she's happy with what she's got if Paddy's not actually going to give her his glass. Which she only wants because it's part of that 'collects drinks from men' quest. Hence the ever-so-tragic answer to his question: "Not enough times that you shouldn't do it, too." Then, helpfully; "At least you have a career to fall back on, if it doesn't work out, hmn? Journeyman or not, you're still a brownrider." Good for him.
"I made myself sick once having the two one right after the other," P'draig confesses. "It was a dare." Tragic earns a laugh and Paddy shrugs. "If you really want me to buy you a drink, if they let us know how it went and it's good news, I can get you one at the tavern down at the bottom of the hold ramp. And if it's bad news all around, well the same, only consolation. How's that?" He takes a swig from his glass, then presses its coolness against his forehead. "Yes, will still be a rider, but being a journeyman would make for a bigger draw for the restaurant I'm opening," he explains.
Jaeyi makes a face and explains, with pointedly tested patience, "You're supposed to buy me a drink for the pleasure of buying me a drink, not to celebrate or console. It's not fun to play if I've got to explain the rules." Elbow to table, chin to palm, she sulks prettily-- for about five seconds before interest gets the better of theatrics. "They let you have a restaurant?"
"Well it /would/ be a pleasure no matter what, but you know, it'd suit the occasion," P'draig points out, still unfazed by the pout. "They did," he confirms after another swallow from his glass. "Actually, I was just looking to build a place on the ground to make it easier for my kids to hang out together, you know, as a family and was just going to cook sometimes formally, you know, serve it on tables set up on the beach, but then the Weyrwoman said a restaurant would be interesting for the Weyr, so here I am, several months later, getting ready to open up an actual restaurant."
Jaeyi only flicks dismissive fingers at what /would/ be a pleasure; the moment's gone, too late. Only picking idly at the cookies because they're there, drowning crumbs in her glass now and then, she listens to this restaurant business with a thoughtful purse to her lips; "See, I guess it'd work okay at some place like Ista. But I don't think you could make a proper restaurant at Fort Weyr. And here--" She pauses, looks around the oh-so-grandiose enclosure of the main hall. "Anyway. I'll come and see your restaurant when it's all finished, hmn? And you can have the honor of having the reason I fiiiinally dragged myself all the way to Ista Weyr."
"Sure, the seating is going to be outside," P'draig agrees about Ista. "Nice thing about it being warm all the time - not limited to indoor spaces." His head cocks to the side though at that claim about Fort Weyr. "So ... you don't think the Fountain is a proper restaurant?" Then he laughs, nods. "Opening next week. Should I send an engraved invite, or just come get you for that honor?"
Very serious; "Mosquitos, though. But at least that gives you a good excuse for lots of torches at night. Which seems appropriately tropical, somehow." Jaeyi answers the question about the Fountain with a flat look, eyes rolled a little, he didn't /really/ suggest that it was, did he? "Better to send the invitation, then I can make sure to get myself all dolled up." And go on a night when she's, ahem, free. "It must be exciting for you, though. Nervous at all? Opening day jitters?"
"Those and netting," P'draig answers, making a sweeping gesture with one hand to indicate drapery. "All right, one formal invitation to b e sent to apprentice, hopefully journeyman, Jaeyi at Fort Hold. Because, you dolled up for opening night isn't something to miss," the brownrider does flirt, juuust a little. "Yeah, it is both at that, exciting and nerve-wracking. I mean, on the one hand I'm looking forward to the creative license, you know? And not having to make fried stuff mostly with the high end dishes in between. But then I get worried about whether or not I'm tooling the menu right." Beat. "Want to take a look at my latest draft?"
Enh, Jaeyi flirts enough for both of them put together, so moderation might be called for, though her reaction to 'hopefully journeyman' isn't the yay-beam it ought to be, more a quick nose-crinkle and moving right along. "So long as you don't expect me to correct your spelling, I'd love to. Except you already told me you like having creative license, so of course now I can't tell you all about how /I/ would do it differently, can I?" She sighs, oh-well, and waits for the appearance of said menu-draft.
"No, you shouldn't have to," P'draig answers about his spelling and sticks a hand into his pocket and draws out a much folded and re-folded bit of paper that looks like its seen better days and has a few splashes of sauce on it. "Of course you can tell me how you'd do it. And then I can counter, or change my mind. So, you know, don't hold back. Part of creative license is also creative back and forth with colleagues, right?" So saying, the paper is unfolded, nudged over her way. It's not a very long menu, definitely high end though, with a focus on Istan local ingredients but infusions of other things. One of the appetizers is a single scallop wrapped in bacon served over half a baked peach for instance. There's also some typically spicy Istan things, but using ingredient Jaeyi's probably used to from around Fort.
Distracted, Jaeyi answers, "I always thought it was finally telling those picky old men where to stick it, but your version is nice, too." She'd probably pat him on the head, with that tone, but she's busy reading at the moment. "Uhmn," with infinite delicacy. "You're not in this for the money, I hope? Because /I/ would be willing to try everything on your menu, but I don't suffer from weyrfolk palate." Which is an affliction with which she assumes P'draig is familiar: bread and meatrolls and stew and maybe veggies now and then. "It actually all looks really good, though your dessert menu's at least three pages too short."
"That too, though sometimes they're picky old women. My grandmother's a Master Baker, used to be the craftmaster. If she wasn't losing her memory, she'd probably still be a formidable force to face for one of these," a gesture around for the whole try-out idea. "The idea is to bring in a slightly different clientele. Ista's focus isn't just weyrfolk," Paddy explains. "Annnd I'm not a pastry cook," he admits. "I do okay with certain things, but it's not my main focus. Want a different job if you pass?" Tossed out there in friendly fashion. "It's warm at Ista, view of the beach from the restaurant is great."
"Mmn, but it sounds bad saying, 'Telling old /women/ where to stick it,' doesn't it?" Jaeyi makes a face that helps put an unpretty slant on the phrase, shakes her head to affirm that they won't be using that remark any time soon, no no. "They don't have to be pastries. After a big meal, some people might like sherbet or just berries and cream, though you really ought to hire yourself a pastry cook if you're going to call it a proper restaurant." Which would also answer to the fact that it won't be her, sorry. "There's no /if/ I pass, honey, but still. The old Master here is likely to retire soon. You could try to coax him to Ista, hmn?"
"How about 'old dames' then?" P'draig suggests humorously. "I do plan to offer berries and cream when they're in season, but even at Ista, they're going out right now," he points out. "I can do sorbets though, yeah." He props his chin up on his hand, observing Jaeyi's shifts of expression with mild amusement still in his eyes. "Yeah? So you think it's a done deal? For you. And ... would that make you the senior baker here? Or is there still another set of journeymen ahead of you?" A nod follows. "I'll chat him up, see if he wants to come lounge around on the beach and only have to make dessert two or three nights out of seven."
Amused; "But they're in season somewhere else, right? If you're going to be a journeyman restauranteer with a /dragon/, you might as well take advantage of it." Jaeyi gives him a really-now look for that one, don't be silly, and only shrugs for her place in the hierarchy of the Fort Hold kitchens. "It's really not important. But I'm, like, ninety-nine percent positive that I'll pass. Anyways." Not a topic she's all that eager to discuss. "I'll chat him up for you, too. He likes me. He's really sweet, and I bet he'd wanna retire someplace warm and, like, rest his bones or whatever old people say."
"Well, actually, not quite in season yet down south, there's a couple of sevens where they're not at their best either north or south. But yes, I plan to take advantage of that to stay stocked on some items." Paddy tops his glass up again with lemonade and nods a few times. "Well, I'm glad you're so sure and I do wish you the best of luck with it," he says sincerely. "I figure it's fifty-fifty for mine." Briefly his gaze slides towards the kitchen then returns to Jaeyi. "Is there anyone who /doesn't/ like you?"
"Drown them in cream and sugar and most people won't know they're not 'at their best' anyway," Jaeyi answers dismissively-- let the plebs eat sub-par berries. "I'd put in a good word for you," and his fifty-fifty shot, "but it might wind up doing more harm than good. So I'll just cross my fingers instead." And she does so, tapping them on the edge of the plate, smile brightening at his latter question. "See, that's the kind of thing you're /supposed/ to say, not this business of curdling milk in my stomach."
"I /am/ aiming for higher end here," P'draig claims but he just grins, nods. "Ah well, with such pretty fingers crossed for me, they can't fail to pass me, right?" Since apparently, they're supposed to be playing this game. And he shoots her a little, 'better' type of questioning uplifted brows look.
Jaeyi's, "I know, I know. Higher end. Scallops wrapped in bacon. I get it. But you're still gonna wind up with people who think wherry stew and day-old cake are good eats, so you can cheat here and there." His attempts at doing better, while certainly commendable, just wind up making her laugh and shake her head at his questioning look. "Paddy, sweetie, I think I may have to live with the fact that your weyrmate's better at flirting than you are, and stick to talking shop."
"True, I think some of it's going to have to be trial-and-error too. See what people like, and who actually comes to the place. Because if it's all holders looking to spend and get a fancy pants experience, that's one thing, but if I have a lot of actual locals ... that's different," P'draig notes, then bursts out laughing and slides his glass a little out of the way so he can fold his arms down onto the table and his chin atop his forearms. "I don't usually suck, or at least, I'd like to think I don't, at the whole flirting thing. It's more that I'm pushing it, instead of just letting it flow." Beat. "I haven't really felt very flirty for a while."
Thoughtfully cheerful, "I bet the holders tip better. Though the riders're probably easier to please." And if that's not a metaphor... Jaeyi slides the much-abused menu back to P'draig at that point, scoots it over till it lodges beneath his folded arms where no stray breeze (not that there are any in here) can catch it and spirit it away. "I'll take your word for it?" she offers, doubtful but trying to be charitable. "But why haven't you felt like it? What's wrong?"
"Prooobably," P'draig agrees about the holders. "And some of the riders might if they're flush. Though I'll bet most haven't been squirreling away their Weyrlingmaster salary for ten turns," the brownrider says with a chuckle and tilts his hand over, collecting his menu-in-progress with fingertips and eyes it for a moment or two like he's considering adding desserts or something. "I've just been kind of off-kilter since Phara died," he answers straightforwardly enough. "Every now and then the spark'll fly again, and it's not that I'm you know, abstaining completely or anything. Just ... dunno. Not quite the same oomph for the playing the game."
Watch Jaeyi preen; "Are you rich? I do like wealthy men, you know." If anyone was around to hear that, they'd probably roll their eyes, since-- by now-- everyone at Fort Hold knows Jaeyi likes wealthy men. "Does being the Weyrlingmaster really pay all that well, though? I always thought most riders were broke by default, except the ones who were good at poker or whatever." Sympathy replaces the effusive flirtation, though, and she adds more seriously, "I can see how it might seem less fun? After you lose someone. But, I think-- I dunno. As long as you have something that makes you happy and keeps you occupied." Nod to the menu.
"Relatively, for a rider," P'draig answers, not immune to pretty girl preening, even if there's that whole off-kilter thing going on. "It does actually, just a little bit less than a Weyrleader or Weyrwoman," the brownrider explains. "Depending on the Weyr, due to the demanding nature of the job, it's sometimes the next slot down from the leaders." His head shakes though. "If you're careful with your marks and don't run around spending them, and well you know, most riders, we pretty much have the basics taken care of for us, you can put away a good stash of marks. I'm not competition for a Lord Holder," he goes on to clarify, with a gesture around the room, "but I probably won't ever have to worry about money for the rest of my life. I'm mostly saving it for my kids and every now and then I spoil T'mic's Aath because it makes her happy." Breath out. "I know it might seem odd, but ... really, we weren't even that close. Friends, definitely. I guess it's just that it made me more mindful of what not being careful can cost sometimes," the brownrider admits. "And sure, I have a good life, I'm not unhappy, Jaeyi. Just ... a little off."
Though threaded with a serious undertone, the remark is really just a light little thing: "Well, gosh, I wish I'd known you were a man of means a few months ago. I could be living the high life at Ista, instead." Jaeyi makes a face at the 'competition for a Lord Holder' comment, too close to home, and waits until he's finished the rest before she has anything more to say. "This conversation is starting to shade dangerously close to serious, Paddy. As such, do you want me to ask 'why still a little off?' or say 'I bet I could turn you back on?' Because I don't want you to get morose." Enough of that going around these days.
That part goes mostly over Paddy's head - he's not on the up and up on Fort Hold ... gossip. Instead there's more laughter from the rider-baker. "Hey, can't say I /didn't/ offer the one time," he points out with a wink. "And it honestly didn't occur to me to try to convince you with /money/." Breath out and he straightens a little, folds the menu back up and sticks it into his pocket, starts to curl his hand back around his glass, then tilts a look her way. "You could do both and I'll promise not to get morose," he quips back. "The why is because I can't quite kick the weird guilt involved, even though I know better." Pause and then his grin returns in full force. "And I'm sure you could. Though if one of us passes this test and the other doesn't, doesn't that kind of pose a bit of a craft-quandary about who has the higher rank?"
"I don't know if it will make you feel better or help with the guilt or anything, but Phara told me once that she really wanted to have a baby. So, what happened to her? Would've happened anyway, but - at least this way - the baby has a father who takes care of her, hmn?" It may be a thin silver lining, but at least it's there! Jaeyi, in an effort to avoid that whole 'morose' issue, adds brightly in response to the latter musing, "Maybe, but when a pretty girl offers to make you feel better? The knots you should be worried about are not the ones you wear on your shoulder, sugar."
"Yeah, I know she did," P'draig answers quietly. "I know it doesn't make much sense, and it's not as bad as it was a while back," he offers over with a lopsided cant to his grin that again turns into laughter. "I'm not worried," Paddy clarifies, head dropping to the support of one loosely curled fist. "Okay, how's this then, want to see just how many knots we can get tied up in before sunrise? Because I bet that's a lot of knots."
Jaeyi, having never sired a child by a woman that died giving birth, can only smile and offer up a pat for his arm, a mild, "I'm glad it's getting better. If you do wanna talk about it, though, I'm good at listening." Though she's not good at hiding surprise, and she has to blink a few times at his last, 'cause "I didn't think you were actually interested." Hastily, "That's not to say no, just. Consider yourself commended for being able to play cool better than most?"
"Thank you," Paddy says for the first, a little nod tendered and then he's yes, laughing all over again. "And again, thanks. I'm not sure if it's so much playing cool as you know, not being under thirty anymore. Sincere: "Any man who isn't interested in you at some level, has to be completely gay," the brownrider says straightforwardly. The kitchen door swings open though and he sits up, looks over there, but it's only one of the staff coming out to freshen up some of the things kept on the hall's sideboard.
Not that Jaeyi's ego needs stroking, but she looks pleased by the remark anyway, big smile and a pretty tilt of her head as a reward. "Thank you. I like to think pretty much the same thing." Not exactly strung from the results of the test, she takes a couple of seconds to figure out what's got him all piqued, and winds up shaking her head afterward, silly rabbit. "Why don't you come with me and we'll see if we can't keep from worrying too much about what old men think of our cooking, hmn? Someone'll be sure to come looking for me when the time comes, so you won't even have to worry about missing out on the results." She's so smart!
The end of P'draig's distraction brings a warm smile to bear on Jaeyi for the pretty tilt of her head. "Sorry, I'd gotten /this/ close to that knot before I impressed so it's kind of ... you know, sixteen years in the making for me," he explains and takes a breath, considers her for just a moment's worth of hesitation. "Here's to not worrying," is ultimately, the answer and his glass is lifted her way in toast, then drained. "Lead on." His voice drops lower, taking on a slightly more intimate quality, though the humor remains in the slight lilt to Paddy's words.
"So why didn't you say no?" Jaeyi asks reasonably, leaves the plate and her own glass in the middle of the table for someone else to clean up. She's /kitchen/ staff, not /cleaning/ staff. "To search, I mean." In the big main hall and even the first hallway off of it, she won't reach for his hand; in that side corridor, she will, making lead-on a more literal practice. "I won't ask the 'do you wish you'd done it differently' question, because I've yet to meet the rider that says they'd actually change anything, buuuuuut. Weren't you happy enough as a Baker?"
Adopting a casual pace, P'draig ambles along like a good little tourist and looks around a fair bit, actually. Probably didn't nose around much inside the hold when he was a Fort rider. "I almost did, actually. I put the search rider off and asked to think about it." Her hand finds his and Paddy looks down, smiles, shifts his fingers a little so they thread comfortably through hers. "I was pretty happy, yes. Would you be surprised if I said there was a woman involved?" Humor sparks in his eyes, maybe a little self-deprecating. "In the end, I didn't know how many more turns they were going to keep me as a senior apprentice. I was sixteen, head over heels in love with the girl who impressed gold out of the clutch I'd stood for the first time and didn't impress at. And well ... if I did impress, there was a very fixed end date on when we'd be able to be together. And I figured I could still cook on the side. Which wound up being mostly true." Pause. "The sad part, is that after almost ten turns together, me and the girl split."
"Surprised? No. Disappointed?" Jaeyi holds the finger and thumb of her empty hand a smidge apart and squints through them back at P'draig for a second. A little disappointed. "I hope you learned your lesson about letting your heart get the better of your career, at least," with a firm little nod; chastised by an 18-year-old prostitute, how's that feel? "You say it's the sad part," she continues, stopping for a second at a T in the corridor to get her bearings, "but it turned out for the best, hmn? If you were still with the girl, you wouldn't be with T'mic. And he's awfully cute. My room's the size of a handkerchief and I'm not a tidy person, you should just be braced for that."
"The things we do for love, hm?" Brows up and he just smirks a little for the smidge of disappointment. Given Paddy's oddly conservative views on prostitution, it's probably a good thing he's largely unaware of Jaeyi's situation at the hold. "I ... learned a lot of lessons those few turns there. That was also when Thread came back and I lost ... a lot of weyrlings." What was she saying earlier about morose. "I also learned just how much liquor I can hold," the brownrider adds but then he's smiling. "I don't regret how things turned out in the end. But there's a lot more that happened in between that and Mic. And I wouldn't trade him for the world, no." Her warning nets another laugh. "I'm no saint when it comes to cleaning. Would believe that Mic's the tidy one?"
Jaeyi, serious as the day is long; "You should probably keep that fact to yourself. What with the restaurant and all? People will immediately think 'cockroaches' if you admit to being a messy person." The room is almost exactly as described: small and messy-- well, untidy, not dirty. There aren't any old dishes or anything, but she's got clothes everywhere and perfume and lotion and ribbons and a firelizard who likes to play with all that frippery, so. "See, I wanna ask if you think you drink too much. But I think probably I'll at least get your pants off before we get into the really deep neuroses."
"Oh shells, no there's a difference between the kitchen and home," Paddy explains with a quick shake of his head. "Kitchen's always clean as a whistle." Inside, he looks around, nods a few times. "See, this is how my room used to look, only with boots, socks, recipe books and spare aprons," he explains with a wink, turns a little as she mentions about his pants and his free hand swings up, aims gently for her cheek. "I used to, Jae. But I don't anymore." Quiet, serious answer, but then he shuts himself up by kissing her. Because you know, she did just offer to take his pants off.
"I'd like to say it's organized chaos and I could tell you right where everything is." She'd like to. But she won't. There are better uses for lips anyway, and Jaeyi puts hers to them as well, kissing him with absolutely no reservation, and sure as hell not like it's a first-kiss. Paddy may not be aware that he's fooling around with a woman that's been bought-and-paid-for, but at least he gets to reap the benefits-- as long as he's not opposed to being dragged into bed and kept on his back for a little while, anyway.
"Hey, I'm not going to get on your case for your housekeeping." P'draig's last sensible reply for a while, because, no he is not opposed to being dragged into bed or being kept on his back, though he does actually have some suggestions about other positions along the way because well hello, this is T'mic's weyrmate we're talking about here. He doesn't even seem particularly fazed by the close quarters imposed by the size of her bed, even if he is very tall. At the end of that however long, there's certainly been no worrying going on to speak of though Jaeyi may be inspired to muffle the man with a pillow at some point, because quiet in bed he is not.
Jaeyi might be a little alarmed at the volume, but at least it's the middle of the day and most people are out working instead of loitering in these inner rooms. And she can accept it as a form of flattery. After getting her breath, after shifting to rest on her side, wedged in between P'draig and the wall, leaning on one elbow to face him, she reports cheerfully, "If the restaurant doesn't work out and they won't let you be a journeyman, you can come back here and be my apprentice if you want. I promise I'll treat you well." 'Treat you well' is probably synonymous with 'objectify you' in Jaeyi's world, by the way.
With a hand comfortably curled over her hip and likewise turned on his side to give her room, P'draig cracks one gray-blue eye open to peek over at her, amused again. "Thanks, I'll consider it for a backup option if the whole cooking thing doesn't work out and Jekzith decides to abandon me," the brownrider jokes. "And for the record, you were right." A warm smile there, while his hand slides up her hip a little, fingers reaching to toy with the ends of dark curls.
Jekzith. Riiight. "I don't think he's gonna fit in here." Jaeyi gives the room a look around, to double-check, but seems pretty sure by the time she leans back with her temple on her knuckles. "I usually am," with a cheery smile, with an absent catch of her sheets to smooth them across his chest with one hand, finding and extricating a long-lost earring in the process, so /that's/ where that went. "But, uhmn, about what specifically?"
"Nope, he'll need his own room," P'draig jokes and winks down at her, chin tilting downward as she smooths the sheets out, starts to chuckle lowly when she plucks that earring free. "About making me feel better," he clarifies. "For the record, I've slept with exactly one other woman since Phara died, other than you."
"On the plus side, I have an in with the Steward--" If you want to call it that. "--so I could at least try to get him a nice room? With a window? Though how he'll get in and out of it..." Jaeyi outlines the shape of the door, very small, with her finger before she drops her hand again, tipping the end of P'draig's chin with that same finger. "First, that wasn't 'sleeping,' Paddy. Second, I'm glad you feel better. Third, seriously, you are way loud."
"He might have to suck it up then and deal with the fireheights," P'draig continues in jovial style about Jekzith's fictional rooming accommodations. Chin tipped, his gaze meets hers, amused for the first. "No, that was quite the workout really," deadpan. Just a smile for the second. Laughter for the third. "Yeaaah I should've warned you about that. So you could give me something to bite on." beat. "Take it as a compliment?" he suggests humorously though and reaches for her hand, to draw it up to his lips for a light kiss. "Think they're done yet? Or should we try to keep the walls shaking?"
Jaeyi, predictably, "I can think of some things you could bite on. Or, well, nibble anyway." The door gets another glance, as if she could see through it to determine if anyone's on their way right this minute to collect her, and she's still giving it that thoughtful look when she adds, "If I thought I could get your body out on my own, I might've smothered you. Be grateful I didn't have a sock handy, hmn?" Probably joking. With a quick, easily-charmed smile after the hand-kiss, she reasons, "How about this-- we kill a little more time in here," guess how, "then go back out and take the lay of the land. If they still haven't made a decision, well, I'm free till about nine o'clock, personally."
"I'll bet you do," P'draig quips gamely and well, hey, he has her fingers near his mouth, he can nibble on those. "Sounds like a plan. And if they have made a decision, well there'll still be celebrating to do, eh?" A broad wink offered over along with a nod. "I cleared the day for this, so there you go."
Oh, good. Then Jaeyi and Paddy can play until nine o'clock! Or, well, eight, 'cause she probably should clean herself up some before tending to her /obligations/. One assumes there are congratulations in the works, though Jaeyi keeps whatever they had to say to her entirely to herself, focus entirely on P'draig. Probably she also breaks out her cookbook at some point to try and flesh out his dessert menu, a fun naked-time project.
Yay, happy fun playtime! And at least P'draig isn't going to ask her at all, where she needs to go at 8. He just kisses her good-night, thanks her for a /lovely/ afternoon and heads back to Ista to make T'mic laugh his ass off about where his weyrmate just spent half the day. Though there were recommendations for what the brownrider needs to work on, the time between late afternoon and the witching hour of 8, Fort time, will be celebratory for Paddy. He passed. And he gets to take home some nice memories, and a dessert menu that's likely to bring a grin to his face every time he walks out to tell the customers about the evening's specials.
When: Afternoon, day 28, month 11, turn 21 of the 10th interval
Where: Great Hall/Jaeyi's Room, Fort Hold
What: Paddy and Jaeyi both have try outs for journeyman rank at Fort Hold. While they wait on the results, they fall to talking and Paddy shares his proposed menu for the Beachhouse. Jaeyi has suggestions. One of those leads back to her bed.
Mostly food talk. A little implied nookie at the end.
Having one's work criticised by a panel of old men can be utter nerve-wracking, so it's understandable that Jaeyi looks relieved to abandon the kitchens and plop herself down in one of the side-tables in the main hall, with a big plate of cookies and a tall glass of milk and a hand busily fanning her face. Whatever she thought of being invited to take the test in the first place, whatever she thought of taking it with a /rider/ of all things-- not a word to either, just cookies and milk and a seat where she can wiggle her fingers at him whenever P'draig makes his exit.
Sweaty and a little bit stained from the mad-dash that last challenge posed, P'draig follows after, though his comfort of choice is a pitcher of lemonade with ice cubes, actual cubes, not shavings from a glacier, clinking in it. He grins, waves back for that finger-wiggle and drops down beside her with his pitcher and an empty glass. "I'm not sure if I should offer you any, on the theory that the lemonade might curdle all that milk," he notes with a waggle of his glass and picks up the pitcher to fill it.
"You oughta offer it anyway," Jaeyi begins with cheerful certainty. "Then, when I say yes, you'll feel obligated to give me your glass, and then you'll spend the whole rest of the conversation being puzzled why I'd accept your lemonade if I'm not even gonna drink it." With one finger, she half-pushes, half-spins the cookies away from her own personal space and more into the communal region of the table, share and share alike. "Trust me, I've been through this song-and-dance loooooots of times. --How do you think it went?"
"I meant inside your stomach, rather than in your glass," P'draig notes, amused, "but you know, if you want to tempt fate ..." left dangling and he smiles, nods for he nudge of cookies nearer, takes one and a healthy bite out of it too, once the glass is filled. "Yeah? How many times? And uh ... I think okay. Not as smoothly as I wanted it to," he says with a little frown. "I practiced a lot, but maybe not enough."
First time she's wondered about it, probably, Jaeyi asks, "Does that happen, do you think? I'm sure I've had milk and lemonade pretty close together at some point in my life." But not today, she's happy with what she's got if Paddy's not actually going to give her his glass. Which she only wants because it's part of that 'collects drinks from men' quest. Hence the ever-so-tragic answer to his question: "Not enough times that you shouldn't do it, too." Then, helpfully; "At least you have a career to fall back on, if it doesn't work out, hmn? Journeyman or not, you're still a brownrider." Good for him.
"I made myself sick once having the two one right after the other," P'draig confesses. "It was a dare." Tragic earns a laugh and Paddy shrugs. "If you really want me to buy you a drink, if they let us know how it went and it's good news, I can get you one at the tavern down at the bottom of the hold ramp. And if it's bad news all around, well the same, only consolation. How's that?" He takes a swig from his glass, then presses its coolness against his forehead. "Yes, will still be a rider, but being a journeyman would make for a bigger draw for the restaurant I'm opening," he explains.
Jaeyi makes a face and explains, with pointedly tested patience, "You're supposed to buy me a drink for the pleasure of buying me a drink, not to celebrate or console. It's not fun to play if I've got to explain the rules." Elbow to table, chin to palm, she sulks prettily-- for about five seconds before interest gets the better of theatrics. "They let you have a restaurant?"
"Well it /would/ be a pleasure no matter what, but you know, it'd suit the occasion," P'draig points out, still unfazed by the pout. "They did," he confirms after another swallow from his glass. "Actually, I was just looking to build a place on the ground to make it easier for my kids to hang out together, you know, as a family and was just going to cook sometimes formally, you know, serve it on tables set up on the beach, but then the Weyrwoman said a restaurant would be interesting for the Weyr, so here I am, several months later, getting ready to open up an actual restaurant."
Jaeyi only flicks dismissive fingers at what /would/ be a pleasure; the moment's gone, too late. Only picking idly at the cookies because they're there, drowning crumbs in her glass now and then, she listens to this restaurant business with a thoughtful purse to her lips; "See, I guess it'd work okay at some place like Ista. But I don't think you could make a proper restaurant at Fort Weyr. And here--" She pauses, looks around the oh-so-grandiose enclosure of the main hall. "Anyway. I'll come and see your restaurant when it's all finished, hmn? And you can have the honor of having the reason I fiiiinally dragged myself all the way to Ista Weyr."
"Sure, the seating is going to be outside," P'draig agrees about Ista. "Nice thing about it being warm all the time - not limited to indoor spaces." His head cocks to the side though at that claim about Fort Weyr. "So ... you don't think the Fountain is a proper restaurant?" Then he laughs, nods. "Opening next week. Should I send an engraved invite, or just come get you for that honor?"
Very serious; "Mosquitos, though. But at least that gives you a good excuse for lots of torches at night. Which seems appropriately tropical, somehow." Jaeyi answers the question about the Fountain with a flat look, eyes rolled a little, he didn't /really/ suggest that it was, did he? "Better to send the invitation, then I can make sure to get myself all dolled up." And go on a night when she's, ahem, free. "It must be exciting for you, though. Nervous at all? Opening day jitters?"
"Those and netting," P'draig answers, making a sweeping gesture with one hand to indicate drapery. "All right, one formal invitation to b e sent to apprentice, hopefully journeyman, Jaeyi at Fort Hold. Because, you dolled up for opening night isn't something to miss," the brownrider does flirt, juuust a little. "Yeah, it is both at that, exciting and nerve-wracking. I mean, on the one hand I'm looking forward to the creative license, you know? And not having to make fried stuff mostly with the high end dishes in between. But then I get worried about whether or not I'm tooling the menu right." Beat. "Want to take a look at my latest draft?"
Enh, Jaeyi flirts enough for both of them put together, so moderation might be called for, though her reaction to 'hopefully journeyman' isn't the yay-beam it ought to be, more a quick nose-crinkle and moving right along. "So long as you don't expect me to correct your spelling, I'd love to. Except you already told me you like having creative license, so of course now I can't tell you all about how /I/ would do it differently, can I?" She sighs, oh-well, and waits for the appearance of said menu-draft.
"No, you shouldn't have to," P'draig answers about his spelling and sticks a hand into his pocket and draws out a much folded and re-folded bit of paper that looks like its seen better days and has a few splashes of sauce on it. "Of course you can tell me how you'd do it. And then I can counter, or change my mind. So, you know, don't hold back. Part of creative license is also creative back and forth with colleagues, right?" So saying, the paper is unfolded, nudged over her way. It's not a very long menu, definitely high end though, with a focus on Istan local ingredients but infusions of other things. One of the appetizers is a single scallop wrapped in bacon served over half a baked peach for instance. There's also some typically spicy Istan things, but using ingredient Jaeyi's probably used to from around Fort.
Distracted, Jaeyi answers, "I always thought it was finally telling those picky old men where to stick it, but your version is nice, too." She'd probably pat him on the head, with that tone, but she's busy reading at the moment. "Uhmn," with infinite delicacy. "You're not in this for the money, I hope? Because /I/ would be willing to try everything on your menu, but I don't suffer from weyrfolk palate." Which is an affliction with which she assumes P'draig is familiar: bread and meatrolls and stew and maybe veggies now and then. "It actually all looks really good, though your dessert menu's at least three pages too short."
"That too, though sometimes they're picky old women. My grandmother's a Master Baker, used to be the craftmaster. If she wasn't losing her memory, she'd probably still be a formidable force to face for one of these," a gesture around for the whole try-out idea. "The idea is to bring in a slightly different clientele. Ista's focus isn't just weyrfolk," Paddy explains. "Annnd I'm not a pastry cook," he admits. "I do okay with certain things, but it's not my main focus. Want a different job if you pass?" Tossed out there in friendly fashion. "It's warm at Ista, view of the beach from the restaurant is great."
"Mmn, but it sounds bad saying, 'Telling old /women/ where to stick it,' doesn't it?" Jaeyi makes a face that helps put an unpretty slant on the phrase, shakes her head to affirm that they won't be using that remark any time soon, no no. "They don't have to be pastries. After a big meal, some people might like sherbet or just berries and cream, though you really ought to hire yourself a pastry cook if you're going to call it a proper restaurant." Which would also answer to the fact that it won't be her, sorry. "There's no /if/ I pass, honey, but still. The old Master here is likely to retire soon. You could try to coax him to Ista, hmn?"
"How about 'old dames' then?" P'draig suggests humorously. "I do plan to offer berries and cream when they're in season, but even at Ista, they're going out right now," he points out. "I can do sorbets though, yeah." He props his chin up on his hand, observing Jaeyi's shifts of expression with mild amusement still in his eyes. "Yeah? So you think it's a done deal? For you. And ... would that make you the senior baker here? Or is there still another set of journeymen ahead of you?" A nod follows. "I'll chat him up, see if he wants to come lounge around on the beach and only have to make dessert two or three nights out of seven."
Amused; "But they're in season somewhere else, right? If you're going to be a journeyman restauranteer with a /dragon/, you might as well take advantage of it." Jaeyi gives him a really-now look for that one, don't be silly, and only shrugs for her place in the hierarchy of the Fort Hold kitchens. "It's really not important. But I'm, like, ninety-nine percent positive that I'll pass. Anyways." Not a topic she's all that eager to discuss. "I'll chat him up for you, too. He likes me. He's really sweet, and I bet he'd wanna retire someplace warm and, like, rest his bones or whatever old people say."
"Well, actually, not quite in season yet down south, there's a couple of sevens where they're not at their best either north or south. But yes, I plan to take advantage of that to stay stocked on some items." Paddy tops his glass up again with lemonade and nods a few times. "Well, I'm glad you're so sure and I do wish you the best of luck with it," he says sincerely. "I figure it's fifty-fifty for mine." Briefly his gaze slides towards the kitchen then returns to Jaeyi. "Is there anyone who /doesn't/ like you?"
"Drown them in cream and sugar and most people won't know they're not 'at their best' anyway," Jaeyi answers dismissively-- let the plebs eat sub-par berries. "I'd put in a good word for you," and his fifty-fifty shot, "but it might wind up doing more harm than good. So I'll just cross my fingers instead." And she does so, tapping them on the edge of the plate, smile brightening at his latter question. "See, that's the kind of thing you're /supposed/ to say, not this business of curdling milk in my stomach."
"I /am/ aiming for higher end here," P'draig claims but he just grins, nods. "Ah well, with such pretty fingers crossed for me, they can't fail to pass me, right?" Since apparently, they're supposed to be playing this game. And he shoots her a little, 'better' type of questioning uplifted brows look.
Jaeyi's, "I know, I know. Higher end. Scallops wrapped in bacon. I get it. But you're still gonna wind up with people who think wherry stew and day-old cake are good eats, so you can cheat here and there." His attempts at doing better, while certainly commendable, just wind up making her laugh and shake her head at his questioning look. "Paddy, sweetie, I think I may have to live with the fact that your weyrmate's better at flirting than you are, and stick to talking shop."
"True, I think some of it's going to have to be trial-and-error too. See what people like, and who actually comes to the place. Because if it's all holders looking to spend and get a fancy pants experience, that's one thing, but if I have a lot of actual locals ... that's different," P'draig notes, then bursts out laughing and slides his glass a little out of the way so he can fold his arms down onto the table and his chin atop his forearms. "I don't usually suck, or at least, I'd like to think I don't, at the whole flirting thing. It's more that I'm pushing it, instead of just letting it flow." Beat. "I haven't really felt very flirty for a while."
Thoughtfully cheerful, "I bet the holders tip better. Though the riders're probably easier to please." And if that's not a metaphor... Jaeyi slides the much-abused menu back to P'draig at that point, scoots it over till it lodges beneath his folded arms where no stray breeze (not that there are any in here) can catch it and spirit it away. "I'll take your word for it?" she offers, doubtful but trying to be charitable. "But why haven't you felt like it? What's wrong?"
"Prooobably," P'draig agrees about the holders. "And some of the riders might if they're flush. Though I'll bet most haven't been squirreling away their Weyrlingmaster salary for ten turns," the brownrider says with a chuckle and tilts his hand over, collecting his menu-in-progress with fingertips and eyes it for a moment or two like he's considering adding desserts or something. "I've just been kind of off-kilter since Phara died," he answers straightforwardly enough. "Every now and then the spark'll fly again, and it's not that I'm you know, abstaining completely or anything. Just ... dunno. Not quite the same oomph for the playing the game."
Watch Jaeyi preen; "Are you rich? I do like wealthy men, you know." If anyone was around to hear that, they'd probably roll their eyes, since-- by now-- everyone at Fort Hold knows Jaeyi likes wealthy men. "Does being the Weyrlingmaster really pay all that well, though? I always thought most riders were broke by default, except the ones who were good at poker or whatever." Sympathy replaces the effusive flirtation, though, and she adds more seriously, "I can see how it might seem less fun? After you lose someone. But, I think-- I dunno. As long as you have something that makes you happy and keeps you occupied." Nod to the menu.
"Relatively, for a rider," P'draig answers, not immune to pretty girl preening, even if there's that whole off-kilter thing going on. "It does actually, just a little bit less than a Weyrleader or Weyrwoman," the brownrider explains. "Depending on the Weyr, due to the demanding nature of the job, it's sometimes the next slot down from the leaders." His head shakes though. "If you're careful with your marks and don't run around spending them, and well you know, most riders, we pretty much have the basics taken care of for us, you can put away a good stash of marks. I'm not competition for a Lord Holder," he goes on to clarify, with a gesture around the room, "but I probably won't ever have to worry about money for the rest of my life. I'm mostly saving it for my kids and every now and then I spoil T'mic's Aath because it makes her happy." Breath out. "I know it might seem odd, but ... really, we weren't even that close. Friends, definitely. I guess it's just that it made me more mindful of what not being careful can cost sometimes," the brownrider admits. "And sure, I have a good life, I'm not unhappy, Jaeyi. Just ... a little off."
Though threaded with a serious undertone, the remark is really just a light little thing: "Well, gosh, I wish I'd known you were a man of means a few months ago. I could be living the high life at Ista, instead." Jaeyi makes a face at the 'competition for a Lord Holder' comment, too close to home, and waits until he's finished the rest before she has anything more to say. "This conversation is starting to shade dangerously close to serious, Paddy. As such, do you want me to ask 'why still a little off?' or say 'I bet I could turn you back on?' Because I don't want you to get morose." Enough of that going around these days.
That part goes mostly over Paddy's head - he's not on the up and up on Fort Hold ... gossip. Instead there's more laughter from the rider-baker. "Hey, can't say I /didn't/ offer the one time," he points out with a wink. "And it honestly didn't occur to me to try to convince you with /money/." Breath out and he straightens a little, folds the menu back up and sticks it into his pocket, starts to curl his hand back around his glass, then tilts a look her way. "You could do both and I'll promise not to get morose," he quips back. "The why is because I can't quite kick the weird guilt involved, even though I know better." Pause and then his grin returns in full force. "And I'm sure you could. Though if one of us passes this test and the other doesn't, doesn't that kind of pose a bit of a craft-quandary about who has the higher rank?"
"I don't know if it will make you feel better or help with the guilt or anything, but Phara told me once that she really wanted to have a baby. So, what happened to her? Would've happened anyway, but - at least this way - the baby has a father who takes care of her, hmn?" It may be a thin silver lining, but at least it's there! Jaeyi, in an effort to avoid that whole 'morose' issue, adds brightly in response to the latter musing, "Maybe, but when a pretty girl offers to make you feel better? The knots you should be worried about are not the ones you wear on your shoulder, sugar."
"Yeah, I know she did," P'draig answers quietly. "I know it doesn't make much sense, and it's not as bad as it was a while back," he offers over with a lopsided cant to his grin that again turns into laughter. "I'm not worried," Paddy clarifies, head dropping to the support of one loosely curled fist. "Okay, how's this then, want to see just how many knots we can get tied up in before sunrise? Because I bet that's a lot of knots."
Jaeyi, having never sired a child by a woman that died giving birth, can only smile and offer up a pat for his arm, a mild, "I'm glad it's getting better. If you do wanna talk about it, though, I'm good at listening." Though she's not good at hiding surprise, and she has to blink a few times at his last, 'cause "I didn't think you were actually interested." Hastily, "That's not to say no, just. Consider yourself commended for being able to play cool better than most?"
"Thank you," Paddy says for the first, a little nod tendered and then he's yes, laughing all over again. "And again, thanks. I'm not sure if it's so much playing cool as you know, not being under thirty anymore. Sincere: "Any man who isn't interested in you at some level, has to be completely gay," the brownrider says straightforwardly. The kitchen door swings open though and he sits up, looks over there, but it's only one of the staff coming out to freshen up some of the things kept on the hall's sideboard.
Not that Jaeyi's ego needs stroking, but she looks pleased by the remark anyway, big smile and a pretty tilt of her head as a reward. "Thank you. I like to think pretty much the same thing." Not exactly strung from the results of the test, she takes a couple of seconds to figure out what's got him all piqued, and winds up shaking her head afterward, silly rabbit. "Why don't you come with me and we'll see if we can't keep from worrying too much about what old men think of our cooking, hmn? Someone'll be sure to come looking for me when the time comes, so you won't even have to worry about missing out on the results." She's so smart!
The end of P'draig's distraction brings a warm smile to bear on Jaeyi for the pretty tilt of her head. "Sorry, I'd gotten /this/ close to that knot before I impressed so it's kind of ... you know, sixteen years in the making for me," he explains and takes a breath, considers her for just a moment's worth of hesitation. "Here's to not worrying," is ultimately, the answer and his glass is lifted her way in toast, then drained. "Lead on." His voice drops lower, taking on a slightly more intimate quality, though the humor remains in the slight lilt to Paddy's words.
"So why didn't you say no?" Jaeyi asks reasonably, leaves the plate and her own glass in the middle of the table for someone else to clean up. She's /kitchen/ staff, not /cleaning/ staff. "To search, I mean." In the big main hall and even the first hallway off of it, she won't reach for his hand; in that side corridor, she will, making lead-on a more literal practice. "I won't ask the 'do you wish you'd done it differently' question, because I've yet to meet the rider that says they'd actually change anything, buuuuuut. Weren't you happy enough as a Baker?"
Adopting a casual pace, P'draig ambles along like a good little tourist and looks around a fair bit, actually. Probably didn't nose around much inside the hold when he was a Fort rider. "I almost did, actually. I put the search rider off and asked to think about it." Her hand finds his and Paddy looks down, smiles, shifts his fingers a little so they thread comfortably through hers. "I was pretty happy, yes. Would you be surprised if I said there was a woman involved?" Humor sparks in his eyes, maybe a little self-deprecating. "In the end, I didn't know how many more turns they were going to keep me as a senior apprentice. I was sixteen, head over heels in love with the girl who impressed gold out of the clutch I'd stood for the first time and didn't impress at. And well ... if I did impress, there was a very fixed end date on when we'd be able to be together. And I figured I could still cook on the side. Which wound up being mostly true." Pause. "The sad part, is that after almost ten turns together, me and the girl split."
"Surprised? No. Disappointed?" Jaeyi holds the finger and thumb of her empty hand a smidge apart and squints through them back at P'draig for a second. A little disappointed. "I hope you learned your lesson about letting your heart get the better of your career, at least," with a firm little nod; chastised by an 18-year-old prostitute, how's that feel? "You say it's the sad part," she continues, stopping for a second at a T in the corridor to get her bearings, "but it turned out for the best, hmn? If you were still with the girl, you wouldn't be with T'mic. And he's awfully cute. My room's the size of a handkerchief and I'm not a tidy person, you should just be braced for that."
"The things we do for love, hm?" Brows up and he just smirks a little for the smidge of disappointment. Given Paddy's oddly conservative views on prostitution, it's probably a good thing he's largely unaware of Jaeyi's situation at the hold. "I ... learned a lot of lessons those few turns there. That was also when Thread came back and I lost ... a lot of weyrlings." What was she saying earlier about morose. "I also learned just how much liquor I can hold," the brownrider adds but then he's smiling. "I don't regret how things turned out in the end. But there's a lot more that happened in between that and Mic. And I wouldn't trade him for the world, no." Her warning nets another laugh. "I'm no saint when it comes to cleaning. Would believe that Mic's the tidy one?"
Jaeyi, serious as the day is long; "You should probably keep that fact to yourself. What with the restaurant and all? People will immediately think 'cockroaches' if you admit to being a messy person." The room is almost exactly as described: small and messy-- well, untidy, not dirty. There aren't any old dishes or anything, but she's got clothes everywhere and perfume and lotion and ribbons and a firelizard who likes to play with all that frippery, so. "See, I wanna ask if you think you drink too much. But I think probably I'll at least get your pants off before we get into the really deep neuroses."
"Oh shells, no there's a difference between the kitchen and home," Paddy explains with a quick shake of his head. "Kitchen's always clean as a whistle." Inside, he looks around, nods a few times. "See, this is how my room used to look, only with boots, socks, recipe books and spare aprons," he explains with a wink, turns a little as she mentions about his pants and his free hand swings up, aims gently for her cheek. "I used to, Jae. But I don't anymore." Quiet, serious answer, but then he shuts himself up by kissing her. Because you know, she did just offer to take his pants off.
"I'd like to say it's organized chaos and I could tell you right where everything is." She'd like to. But she won't. There are better uses for lips anyway, and Jaeyi puts hers to them as well, kissing him with absolutely no reservation, and sure as hell not like it's a first-kiss. Paddy may not be aware that he's fooling around with a woman that's been bought-and-paid-for, but at least he gets to reap the benefits-- as long as he's not opposed to being dragged into bed and kept on his back for a little while, anyway.
"Hey, I'm not going to get on your case for your housekeeping." P'draig's last sensible reply for a while, because, no he is not opposed to being dragged into bed or being kept on his back, though he does actually have some suggestions about other positions along the way because well hello, this is T'mic's weyrmate we're talking about here. He doesn't even seem particularly fazed by the close quarters imposed by the size of her bed, even if he is very tall. At the end of that however long, there's certainly been no worrying going on to speak of though Jaeyi may be inspired to muffle the man with a pillow at some point, because quiet in bed he is not.
Jaeyi might be a little alarmed at the volume, but at least it's the middle of the day and most people are out working instead of loitering in these inner rooms. And she can accept it as a form of flattery. After getting her breath, after shifting to rest on her side, wedged in between P'draig and the wall, leaning on one elbow to face him, she reports cheerfully, "If the restaurant doesn't work out and they won't let you be a journeyman, you can come back here and be my apprentice if you want. I promise I'll treat you well." 'Treat you well' is probably synonymous with 'objectify you' in Jaeyi's world, by the way.
With a hand comfortably curled over her hip and likewise turned on his side to give her room, P'draig cracks one gray-blue eye open to peek over at her, amused again. "Thanks, I'll consider it for a backup option if the whole cooking thing doesn't work out and Jekzith decides to abandon me," the brownrider jokes. "And for the record, you were right." A warm smile there, while his hand slides up her hip a little, fingers reaching to toy with the ends of dark curls.
Jekzith. Riiight. "I don't think he's gonna fit in here." Jaeyi gives the room a look around, to double-check, but seems pretty sure by the time she leans back with her temple on her knuckles. "I usually am," with a cheery smile, with an absent catch of her sheets to smooth them across his chest with one hand, finding and extricating a long-lost earring in the process, so /that's/ where that went. "But, uhmn, about what specifically?"
"Nope, he'll need his own room," P'draig jokes and winks down at her, chin tilting downward as she smooths the sheets out, starts to chuckle lowly when she plucks that earring free. "About making me feel better," he clarifies. "For the record, I've slept with exactly one other woman since Phara died, other than you."
"On the plus side, I have an in with the Steward--" If you want to call it that. "--so I could at least try to get him a nice room? With a window? Though how he'll get in and out of it..." Jaeyi outlines the shape of the door, very small, with her finger before she drops her hand again, tipping the end of P'draig's chin with that same finger. "First, that wasn't 'sleeping,' Paddy. Second, I'm glad you feel better. Third, seriously, you are way loud."
"He might have to suck it up then and deal with the fireheights," P'draig continues in jovial style about Jekzith's fictional rooming accommodations. Chin tipped, his gaze meets hers, amused for the first. "No, that was quite the workout really," deadpan. Just a smile for the second. Laughter for the third. "Yeaaah I should've warned you about that. So you could give me something to bite on." beat. "Take it as a compliment?" he suggests humorously though and reaches for her hand, to draw it up to his lips for a light kiss. "Think they're done yet? Or should we try to keep the walls shaking?"
Jaeyi, predictably, "I can think of some things you could bite on. Or, well, nibble anyway." The door gets another glance, as if she could see through it to determine if anyone's on their way right this minute to collect her, and she's still giving it that thoughtful look when she adds, "If I thought I could get your body out on my own, I might've smothered you. Be grateful I didn't have a sock handy, hmn?" Probably joking. With a quick, easily-charmed smile after the hand-kiss, she reasons, "How about this-- we kill a little more time in here," guess how, "then go back out and take the lay of the land. If they still haven't made a decision, well, I'm free till about nine o'clock, personally."
"I'll bet you do," P'draig quips gamely and well, hey, he has her fingers near his mouth, he can nibble on those. "Sounds like a plan. And if they have made a decision, well there'll still be celebrating to do, eh?" A broad wink offered over along with a nod. "I cleared the day for this, so there you go."
Oh, good. Then Jaeyi and Paddy can play until nine o'clock! Or, well, eight, 'cause she probably should clean herself up some before tending to her /obligations/. One assumes there are congratulations in the works, though Jaeyi keeps whatever they had to say to her entirely to herself, focus entirely on P'draig. Probably she also breaks out her cookbook at some point to try and flesh out his dessert menu, a fun naked-time project.
Yay, happy fun playtime! And at least P'draig isn't going to ask her at all, where she needs to go at 8. He just kisses her good-night, thanks her for a /lovely/ afternoon and heads back to Ista to make T'mic laugh his ass off about where his weyrmate just spent half the day. Though there were recommendations for what the brownrider needs to work on, the time between late afternoon and the witching hour of 8, Fort time, will be celebratory for Paddy. He passed. And he gets to take home some nice memories, and a dessert menu that's likely to bring a grin to his face every time he walks out to tell the customers about the evening's specials.