how still lies the bay in the light western airs which blow from the crimson horizon
Who: seventeensir & slaying
What: incidental chatting, yo.
When: the morning of september 21st
Where: down in kokomoat the beach!
Summary: buffy's still staying out at the shore; horatio has a reason to go to the shore. things coincide.
Rating: p for propriety
It wasn't so bad, all this living out at Cullen House. Temporary living. A most non-permanent foray into some sort of strange but ultimately rather peaceful cohabitation. Barring their one week of trial separation, Buffy had volunteered to stay with Captain Jack Sparrow as he recovered from the burns incurred on the draft. Her new set of missions included helping in the keeping of the house, the preparation of meals, and -- when she could sneak some manual labour in -- the provisioning of the house for winter. Jack was in no state to accomplish this on his own, she felt.
But it hardly meant that she spent every waking hour with the pirate. Far from it. She was a creature who appreciated her space and she thought -- and hoped -- that Jack was the same. Therefore, Buffy found herself taking frequent morning strolls along the shore. A travel mug of old-style pressed coffee cradled in her palms.
She certainly hadn't expected to see another on the sand that morning.
What: incidental chatting, yo.
When: the morning of september 21st
Where: down in kokomoat the beach!
Summary: buffy's still staying out at the shore; horatio has a reason to go to the shore. things coincide.
Rating: p for propriety
It wasn't so bad, all this living out at Cullen House. Temporary living. A most non-permanent foray into some sort of strange but ultimately rather peaceful cohabitation. Barring their one week of trial separation, Buffy had volunteered to stay with Captain Jack Sparrow as he recovered from the burns incurred on the draft. Her new set of missions included helping in the keeping of the house, the preparation of meals, and -- when she could sneak some manual labour in -- the provisioning of the house for winter. Jack was in no state to accomplish this on his own, she felt.
But it hardly meant that she spent every waking hour with the pirate. Far from it. She was a creature who appreciated her space and she thought -- and hoped -- that Jack was the same. Therefore, Buffy found herself taking frequent morning strolls along the shore. A travel mug of old-style pressed coffee cradled in her palms.
She certainly hadn't expected to see another on the sand that morning.