Last Orders - (2/?)
Title: Farm-Boy and City-Boy
Author: miss_ariake
Pairing: Belldom
Rating: PG/13 for now
Summary: A man walks into a pub... the rest is history.
Warnings: None yet
Disclaimers: Well... I have not the ownership of Muse and all the lovely people associated with it, so I claim that this be not true for them at least. Although, some of the people and all of the locations I'll mention are real, all from my own personal experiences.
Chapter 1
Apparently, the big news in Minehead this week involves the staff at the Broadlands retirement home thought residents were having a bit of a ‘hoot’ when they reported an owl had found a sunny spot on their windowsill. Oh, but don’t be joking and jesting just yet! Pixie, the European eagle owl, had very much made himself at home on a resident’s bedroom windowsill after escaping from his aviary at Exmoor Owl and Hawk Centre in Allerford. He is showing no signs of leaving and loves to show off his plumage, especially to the ladies. This is clearly breaking news for the folks of Minehead and needed to be pinned up on the wall to my side. I will say, Pixie is quite a cute fellow and I bet he doesn’t have such a foul mouth unlike Nelson.
“Wanker!”
Precisely. Now, you may be wondering why I’m reading about owls and not paying attention to the man sitting opposite me. Unfortunately, he is still the only person working the pub tonight and the crusty locals need their ales topping up every now and then. While he skips back behind the bar, I allow my eye to wander around and soak up this little world. The West Country has a charm that I’ve missed since living further up north. Everyone seems to know everyone and if they don’t, they’re more than happy to find out. That’s the real difference; people have the time for others in the south.
“Last orders!”
The dull ring of a bell sounded out and broke my misty-eyed recollections of my childhood… I joke, I’m not that sentimental. Although, the bell did bring me back to reality and Dominic slipped back into the chair opposite and let out a thankful sigh.
“Wouldn’t be so bad if I had an extra pair hands to run the place, but I’m the only stupid sod willing to work a Saturday. Pffffttt.”
That was an interesting noise and an even more fascinating face he just pulled. “Tough work?”
“God no, boring more like it. Just… if Emmy had come in and not stayed at home to watch the bloody Voice, I could sit back a bit more, you know?”
Dominic necked the rest of his Magners cider while I finished my third ale of the evening, a rather sweet Chalky’s Bark. A complex yet refreshing ale that was supposed to have hints of ginger, lemon and lychee fruit. I’ll believe that when I see it. Slowly but surely, the last remnants of the pub began weaving their way onto the cobblestone streets in search of their tractor… I’m being dreadfully stereotypical tonight, I apologise. With a quick flick of my wrist, I noticed that I’d spent at least 2 hours at The Forrester Arms and last orders are apparently at 11pm.
“Seems a little early to be closing?”
“Meh, I’m bored. Oh, and I’m sorry I couldn’t really chat with your properly, every man and his dog wanting a drink.”
Dom was polishing the final pint glasses of the night, while simultaneously wiping the bar down and single-handedly closing down the pub.
“Do you need a hand with that?”
“You don’t have to…”
“Please, I don’t mind. Saves you from hanging around here any longer.”
My goodness, I’m shocked at myself. If this had been any other pub in the world, I’d have shrugged my jacket back on and been out the door by now. Granted, I am distracted by the barman but we don’t even know each other. All I know is he can drink better than I can -must be part of the job description- and he lives… wait, I don’t even know that. He knows more about me! This won’t do. With my new found ale-induced confidence, I grabbed the mop resting against the bar and began swishing it around the chairs.
“So… you live locally then, Dom?”
“Guess you could say that… you really don’t have to help, but thank you. I live about twenty so minutes down the road. Haven’t travelled too far out me comfort zone!”
“Must be quite nice then, staying around the folks and places you’ve always known.”
Dom grew silent before looking me straight in the eyes and shrugging.
“Not particularly. You seem like a well travelled person yourself, Matthew. I’d rather travel than be stuck here me whole life. Where you from anyway? I’m picking up twinges of London.”
“Hah, Noooo, I’m no Londoner, they’d never let me live there. I’m up north way, midlands-ish. City-living, really.”
“Oh God, poor you!”
Dom had to put down the glass he was polishing as he’d started cracking up, and I’ll have you know, it was an infectious laugh if anything. He had a point, being from the Midlands is pretty much the dullest location you could say. I sighed at my own predicament before placing the mop back in the bucket, checking I’ve got my keys and my wallet at hand. I’ve left those in a pub before, not my smartest hour.
“You heading off now, Matt?”
“Umm, well, it’s kinda a long walk back to Dunster beach and it’s getting dark… no I’m not scared! I don’t want to get lost… stop looking at me like that!”
“Hey, I’m only joshing you. Promise, mate. Well, you do know there’s a shortcut back to the chalet homes?”
I rose my eyebrows at this new found knowledge. “One that doesn’t mean I have to walk across the beach?”
“Yup, just cross the Queen’s country and it’s a straight line.”
“…Cross the what-now?”
“Wanker!”
I rolled my eyes and shook my fist at Nelson, even he was judging my West Country geography skills. Dom started laughing again as he switched off the jukebox machine and moved towards Nelson’s cage.
“Now now, Nelson. He ain’t a local or a wanker, he’s still learning. Promise you, it’s not too bad. When you leave the pub, take a left and you’ll come to a fork in the road. Take the left again and just follow the footpath. It’s fairly easy, I’ve done it a few times.”
“If you say so… okay, thanks. Oh, and thank you for making my evening for me.”
“How d’you mean?”
I hadn’t the heart or the courage to say why, seeing as I doubt I’ll come back to this pub again and I’m probably just a faceless patron to him. It has been fun though to break out of the comfort zone of mediocrity, but like most things, it is but a fleeting moment of freedom.
Damn my life.
“Oh, nothing. Right, I think I’ve butchered the mopping enough for you… was nice meeting you, Dom.”
“Whoa, whoa, hold your horses, city-boy!”
Say what now? Dom pointed at me and gestured for me to wait while he unhooked Nelson’s cage from the wall. I’m assuming the wanker-aficionado lives at the pub; Dom carried the hefty cage down a small corridor past the jukebox and into the staff room. What was he going to ask me? What was he going to do? Good lord, I feel like a fifteen year old girl wondering if a boy was going to ask me to prom or not. According to my sister, it’s the most stressful thing she’s ever been through. I don’t remember prom, I think I was at home playing on my Playstation. Most likely Tomb Raider, I had a soft spot for Lara Croft.
“Matt, you still there?”
God, why am I reminiscing? Seriously, mind, stay on track.
“Yeah, sorry, why did you want me to wait?”
“Here… it’s not much and knowing my luck, probably means fuck all to you, but… if it doesn’t, I want you to have it.”
Dom held out his hand, holding a piece of tissue. I looked over both side but there was nothing written on it. Dom chuckled before taking it back from me and unfolding it. Like the Holy Grail of my expectations, there was a phone number written on it. I smiled back at Dom before he passed out from the anxiety.
“Thank you, I’ll be sure to give you a call, especially if I get lost on this wild footpath you’re sending me on.”
“Heh, you’ll be fine… see you round, Matt.”
“Hmm, see you later, farm-boy.”
Author: miss_ariake
Pairing: Belldom
Rating: PG/13 for now
Summary: A man walks into a pub... the rest is history.
Warnings: None yet
Disclaimers: Well... I have not the ownership of Muse and all the lovely people associated with it, so I claim that this be not true for them at least. Although, some of the people and all of the locations I'll mention are real, all from my own personal experiences.
Chapter 1
Apparently, the big news in Minehead this week involves the staff at the Broadlands retirement home thought residents were having a bit of a ‘hoot’ when they reported an owl had found a sunny spot on their windowsill. Oh, but don’t be joking and jesting just yet! Pixie, the European eagle owl, had very much made himself at home on a resident’s bedroom windowsill after escaping from his aviary at Exmoor Owl and Hawk Centre in Allerford. He is showing no signs of leaving and loves to show off his plumage, especially to the ladies. This is clearly breaking news for the folks of Minehead and needed to be pinned up on the wall to my side. I will say, Pixie is quite a cute fellow and I bet he doesn’t have such a foul mouth unlike Nelson.
“Wanker!”
Precisely. Now, you may be wondering why I’m reading about owls and not paying attention to the man sitting opposite me. Unfortunately, he is still the only person working the pub tonight and the crusty locals need their ales topping up every now and then. While he skips back behind the bar, I allow my eye to wander around and soak up this little world. The West Country has a charm that I’ve missed since living further up north. Everyone seems to know everyone and if they don’t, they’re more than happy to find out. That’s the real difference; people have the time for others in the south.
“Last orders!”
The dull ring of a bell sounded out and broke my misty-eyed recollections of my childhood… I joke, I’m not that sentimental. Although, the bell did bring me back to reality and Dominic slipped back into the chair opposite and let out a thankful sigh.
“Wouldn’t be so bad if I had an extra pair hands to run the place, but I’m the only stupid sod willing to work a Saturday. Pffffttt.”
That was an interesting noise and an even more fascinating face he just pulled. “Tough work?”
“God no, boring more like it. Just… if Emmy had come in and not stayed at home to watch the bloody Voice, I could sit back a bit more, you know?”
Dominic necked the rest of his Magners cider while I finished my third ale of the evening, a rather sweet Chalky’s Bark. A complex yet refreshing ale that was supposed to have hints of ginger, lemon and lychee fruit. I’ll believe that when I see it. Slowly but surely, the last remnants of the pub began weaving their way onto the cobblestone streets in search of their tractor… I’m being dreadfully stereotypical tonight, I apologise. With a quick flick of my wrist, I noticed that I’d spent at least 2 hours at The Forrester Arms and last orders are apparently at 11pm.
“Seems a little early to be closing?”
“Meh, I’m bored. Oh, and I’m sorry I couldn’t really chat with your properly, every man and his dog wanting a drink.”
Dom was polishing the final pint glasses of the night, while simultaneously wiping the bar down and single-handedly closing down the pub.
“Do you need a hand with that?”
“You don’t have to…”
“Please, I don’t mind. Saves you from hanging around here any longer.”
My goodness, I’m shocked at myself. If this had been any other pub in the world, I’d have shrugged my jacket back on and been out the door by now. Granted, I am distracted by the barman but we don’t even know each other. All I know is he can drink better than I can -must be part of the job description- and he lives… wait, I don’t even know that. He knows more about me! This won’t do. With my new found ale-induced confidence, I grabbed the mop resting against the bar and began swishing it around the chairs.
“So… you live locally then, Dom?”
“Guess you could say that… you really don’t have to help, but thank you. I live about twenty so minutes down the road. Haven’t travelled too far out me comfort zone!”
“Must be quite nice then, staying around the folks and places you’ve always known.”
Dom grew silent before looking me straight in the eyes and shrugging.
“Not particularly. You seem like a well travelled person yourself, Matthew. I’d rather travel than be stuck here me whole life. Where you from anyway? I’m picking up twinges of London.”
“Hah, Noooo, I’m no Londoner, they’d never let me live there. I’m up north way, midlands-ish. City-living, really.”
“Oh God, poor you!”
Dom had to put down the glass he was polishing as he’d started cracking up, and I’ll have you know, it was an infectious laugh if anything. He had a point, being from the Midlands is pretty much the dullest location you could say. I sighed at my own predicament before placing the mop back in the bucket, checking I’ve got my keys and my wallet at hand. I’ve left those in a pub before, not my smartest hour.
“You heading off now, Matt?”
“Umm, well, it’s kinda a long walk back to Dunster beach and it’s getting dark… no I’m not scared! I don’t want to get lost… stop looking at me like that!”
“Hey, I’m only joshing you. Promise, mate. Well, you do know there’s a shortcut back to the chalet homes?”
I rose my eyebrows at this new found knowledge. “One that doesn’t mean I have to walk across the beach?”
“Yup, just cross the Queen’s country and it’s a straight line.”
“…Cross the what-now?”
“Wanker!”
I rolled my eyes and shook my fist at Nelson, even he was judging my West Country geography skills. Dom started laughing again as he switched off the jukebox machine and moved towards Nelson’s cage.
“Now now, Nelson. He ain’t a local or a wanker, he’s still learning. Promise you, it’s not too bad. When you leave the pub, take a left and you’ll come to a fork in the road. Take the left again and just follow the footpath. It’s fairly easy, I’ve done it a few times.”
“If you say so… okay, thanks. Oh, and thank you for making my evening for me.”
“How d’you mean?”
I hadn’t the heart or the courage to say why, seeing as I doubt I’ll come back to this pub again and I’m probably just a faceless patron to him. It has been fun though to break out of the comfort zone of mediocrity, but like most things, it is but a fleeting moment of freedom.
Damn my life.
“Oh, nothing. Right, I think I’ve butchered the mopping enough for you… was nice meeting you, Dom.”
“Whoa, whoa, hold your horses, city-boy!”
Say what now? Dom pointed at me and gestured for me to wait while he unhooked Nelson’s cage from the wall. I’m assuming the wanker-aficionado lives at the pub; Dom carried the hefty cage down a small corridor past the jukebox and into the staff room. What was he going to ask me? What was he going to do? Good lord, I feel like a fifteen year old girl wondering if a boy was going to ask me to prom or not. According to my sister, it’s the most stressful thing she’s ever been through. I don’t remember prom, I think I was at home playing on my Playstation. Most likely Tomb Raider, I had a soft spot for Lara Croft.
“Matt, you still there?”
God, why am I reminiscing? Seriously, mind, stay on track.
“Yeah, sorry, why did you want me to wait?”
“Here… it’s not much and knowing my luck, probably means fuck all to you, but… if it doesn’t, I want you to have it.”
Dom held out his hand, holding a piece of tissue. I looked over both side but there was nothing written on it. Dom chuckled before taking it back from me and unfolding it. Like the Holy Grail of my expectations, there was a phone number written on it. I smiled back at Dom before he passed out from the anxiety.
“Thank you, I’ll be sure to give you a call, especially if I get lost on this wild footpath you’re sending me on.”
“Heh, you’ll be fine… see you round, Matt.”
“Hmm, see you later, farm-boy.”