Who: An
tehoniongirl and
noprevaricating seventeensir yrobtsvt.
What: A paint war ensues
When: Wednesday afternoon
Where: The boys' new house
Summary: Jilly tries to recreate her mural in the new house, Horatio is a neat freak, Bush is new, and Archie's just plain trouble.
Rating: Kittens and paint splatters
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Jilly had spent the better part of one day and one morning carefully sketching ghost-like lines- )
So, the little kitten was shut in a bedroom and mewling pathetically. It had everything it needed. Food, water, and even an annoying little ball with a very small bell in it. The moment Archie wasn't around? That ball was going to find a corner of a drawer to be hidden in.
The captain had watched Jilly sketch, sipping his own cup of coffee. He said nothing about the potential for paint getting everywhere... but he appreciated the canvas on the floor. Painting was a messy business but one he could respect, both for its utility, for the finished look it gave a project, and because he'd seen Jilly's last work on a wall.
Politely, he offered, even if he couldn't imagine what use he might be, "If I can be of assistance, Miss Jilly, let me know."
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So he mulls around the kitchen, alternates between checking these journal things, and wondering at what, exactly, he's doing here and what's going on. He pipes in after Horatio: "Of course-- and if I can help, just holler."
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Besides...she was pretty sure the Crow Girls would have agreed, if they were there to ask. Everything should start with the sky.
The blue wash, pale in the afternoon light, was already in place, so she moved to pry the lid off a bucket of white paint, lifting it to pour the thick liquid into a pan.
"You can both relax." It's said lightly, more as a reassurance than a reprimand. "I promise I won't do too much damage."
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Were kittens anything like children? If they were, best to let it entertain itself. Learn to be self-sufficient. Otherwise, there'd be no peace in the house whatsoever. Or so he told himself.
He still glanced down the hallway, listening. It wanted attention. It wasn't in distress. ...Right?
Then, though, to distract himself, he nods to Jilly. "I'm sure you won't, Miss Jilly."
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"Not the damage I'm worried about." And then he realizes how that sounded. "Don't want you to strain yourself." Isn't paint toxic or something?
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She shook her hair out of her eyes, moving to the wall. "Though, I will say this is more practice with murals than I was expecting."
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And with paint?
No. Better the animal stayed shut away until things were done.
"I do apologize that you have to redo it, Miss Jilly."
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Her brush strokes are light and loose, the beginnings of clouds taking shape on the wall. Not that they looked like much, for now. She painted in layers on canvas, and that's how she would work on the wall...albeit, at a much larger scale.
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He watched Jilly paint, not asking about what she was doing. Best to let her work, he decided. After all, he knew how he took to being questioned.
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This, after all, is what happened when doctors were unable to quickly rid themselves of fluffy kittens.
If she knew she was being watched, there was nothing self-conscious about her movements. Art school and her regular habit of stopping in odd public places to draw had left her more or less used to curious eyes.
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