(Untitled)

[still_burned]

It's been a while since Michael was here but he's glad to see the place for once - he'd been about to go for a run and it'll be much easier to do it here rather than the sweltering humidity of Miami.

He heads out to the lake and starts a ten mile circuit. He'll be back in the bar afterwards for a protein shake - catchable anywhere.

Comments

[justcallmefee]

There's a familiar pony tail bobbing from side to side on the trail ahead of him, white shoes flashing in the spring sunlight.

She's got her headphones in, but her situational awareness isn't diminished in the least. You only have to run into those crazy fucking rabbits once to teach you that lesson.

[still_burned]

He smiles slightly as he spots her up ahead - he'd know her form anywhere - and increases his speed to catch up with her. It only takes twenty seconds or so, then he falls into stride.

'Hey.'

[justcallmefee]

She hears and recognises his footfalls before she hears his voice. Her head turns and that old familiar ache rings in her chest. It doesn't keep her from smiling at him.

"Hey you."

[still_burned]

'How's it going?'

He's always enjoyed training with Fiona, she's one of the few women who has the stamina to keep up. And this is an old routine, always comfortable.

[ostro_goth]

While he is running around the lake, Michael will hear hoof-beats approaching from behind.

[still_burned]

He does and it would happen to be approaching a point where a rock narrows the path. He pauses and jogs on the spot so the rider can pass if they want to, shaking his hands out as he does.

[ostro_goth]

The horse walks past slowly, and the rider turns to look at Michael, as if wondering what he is doing with his hands.

[still_burned]

He looks up, his small, friendly smile of acknowledgment/greeting turning a little confused at the scrutiny. Still, he doesn't say anything; he's a little winded and if the guy doesn't want to chat, he won't hold him up.

[headed4hell]

Not directly on his ten mile circuit but certainly within range, a short, compact woman with wild blonde hair -- some braided, some not -- perches on the rails of the main paddock with a cigarette hanging from the corner of her mouth, watching and appreciating.

The next time she sees him pass, Grace climbs up higher, using her boot heels and leaning forward to balance, and loudly, enthusiastically cheers him on.

Why not.

[still_burned]

He had been in the zone. Getting randomly cheered by a smoking woman wasn't exactly what he was expecting, and the expression on his face is quizzical as he turns around and runs backwards, looking over at her.

Perhaps she's drunk? Ah well, he grins anyway and waves before turning back around and heading on to finish his last lap. If she's still there when he's done, he'll go say hi.

[headed4hell]

She isn't there.

Nor is she drunk, though buzzed is a distinct possibility, depending on whether or not she'd eaten that questionable breakfast sandwich Ham flipped on her desk a few hours ago. Grace can't, or doesn't care to, remember.

Having left the paddock and horse watching behind, she's now standing near what she estimates is the man's finish line, fingers hooked in her back pockets. Face tilted down like she's fascinated by the patterns her toe is tracing in the dirt, Grace studies his approach from behind her sunglasses and smiles, slow and amused.

"Nice pace," she tells him when he's close enough to hear.

[still_burned]

'...yeah...thanks,' he pants out, zooming past her, finishing the last half-mile at a dead sprint.

His finish line is twenty feet past her at a tree and he wouldn't cut it short for anything, but he does turn around once he's got there, walking back in her direction with his hands locked behind his head to open his chest up, sucking air in.

He smiles at her when he's got breath to, though sentence-forming capability is about thirty seconds away.

[ikissdhimbck]

Kate's just finishing up a meal at the Bar when he's heading in from his run. There are some evening chores in the stables she wants to look in on, and so she gets up and turns for the back door.

"Oh, M'sorry!" she gasps, almost running into him.

[still_burned]

'No problem,' he splutters, having just lifted his glass to his lips. Pulling up to avoid running into her = nice splash of strawberry protein shake down his chin.

'I wasn't looking where I was going, sorry.'

[ikissdhimbck]

She covers her mouth with one hand, partly aghast, and partly amused.

(The amusement, however, would not be polite to show.)

"No, it was my fault," she argues, turning back to the Bar to reach for some napkins. "I was completely distracted."

[still_burned]

That's OK, he looks amused enough for both of them as he accepts the napkins and cleans himself off.

'Is there a party going on somewhere I don't know about?'