FICLET: Laundry Day
Title: Laundry Day
Author: vensre
Starring: Jamie & Geoff
Rating: G
Disclaimer: The way I can imagine is not the true Way.
Notes: This story is for light_the_sky76 ~ happy slightly belated birthday to you.
Lightning-fast beta by tigertale7.
~:
"I knew the situation was getting dire, but now quite how dire. Look at you! Do you have anything at all clean left?"
Jamie's brow furrowed, and he showed definite signs of digging in his heels. "Some things. We don't need to go today."
"Like hell we don't! You never wear that kilt except as a last resort. You know it, I know it--"
"And the American people know it, yes. Your devious Saturday Night Live quoting ways are as sign language to the blind. I'm in the middle of some downloads." With that, Jamie made himself scarce.
Geoff knuckled at a muscle knot in his temple. He followed his flatmate into Jamie's room (never an ideal hiding place, but Jamie was a creature of habit). Jamie parked himself at his desk and hunched his shoulders, calling to mind the noble porcupine.
A brief survey of Jamie's laundry basket confirmed the severity of the case. The basket itself overflowed into piles on the floor, while every dresser drawer stood open and empty. Some of the humour of it seemed to fade when Geoff realised he'd never seen Jamie's room so messed up. His friend must have hit a less than stellar mental state to allow it to get this disorganised.
"Looks a little overwhelming," Geoff ventured, hoping Jamie wouldn't get defensive about it. No response. Of course it was overwhelming. "There's no reason not to do it today. You're free, I'm free, and I've a load or so to put in anyway..." Jamie muttered something, but made no move to get up. "Listen, just. How about this - if you help me, I'll help you."
"Help you with what?"
"Your laundry."
Jamie threw him a puzzled glance. "Then, help me with what?"
"Um, your laundry."
"Working together on it. Why didn't you just say that?" Jamie eyed his laundry pile and grimaced, seeming pushed on by gravity rather more than usual. "I'd prefer not to, but. Waiting 'till tomorrow 'd mean wearing my suit, or something dirty, and neither of those really work for me."
:~:
At the laundrette, Geoff began to find reasons behind Jamie's hesitation. The lights were fluorescent and flickery, and the sound of the machines incessant. If Geoff could smell five different kinds of soap behind the scent of stale cigarettes, Jamie was getting clobbered by it. Treating the place like a war zone seemed logical - no exacting sorting methods, just dumping the clothes into five adjacent washers, adding detergent and coins, then a cut-and-run maneuver. Geoff went back in to start his own load, but soon enough was back to sit on the kerb beside Jamie.
"You really hate this place, don't you."
"Aye."
"The sounds, most? Or the smells?"
Jamie shrugged, squinting in the glaring sun. "Carrying so much isn't too good. I always, always drop things. Though the cardboard box was a good idea. Asking strangers to make change for me, echh. Putting my clothes where everybody's been touching. And the floor in the back where it's sticky." Jamie got a chill. He shook it off. "What I hate is an hour and a half in an unfamiliar building that costs money to assault my senses."
"Then let's get out of here." Geoff stood, and offered a hand to Jamie.
"Really? Should we leave our things..?"
"Not for too long, but we can at least get a drink or something."
"Where?"
"Anywhere. Shall we?"
Jamie hesitated, steeled himself, and took the outstretched hand, levering himself up awkwardly. He didn't return Geoff's grin, but seemed to relax marginally into the state of flux that was any big event outside the house. He was batting dust off the hem of his kilt as Geoff unlocked the car.
"Why don't you wear that thing more often? It's actually really nice. Sort of suits you."
Jamie made a face. "It prickles." A beat, then he glared at Geoff, who was smothering giggles, and said, "I know what you're thinking, and I don't want to talk about it!"
"You're out of clean pants! You're out of clean pants! Jamie's going freeee!"
"I don't want to talk about it, I said!" Jamie shouted, but he was laughing as he climbed into the car to cuff Geoff on the side of the head.
It hadn't been easy to reach that laugh, but it was still possible, Geoff told himself, worries much relieved.
:~:
Author: vensre
Starring: Jamie & Geoff
Rating: G
Disclaimer: The way I can imagine is not the true Way.
Notes: This story is for light_the_sky76 ~ happy slightly belated birthday to you.
Lightning-fast beta by tigertale7.
~:
"I knew the situation was getting dire, but now quite how dire. Look at you! Do you have anything at all clean left?"
Jamie's brow furrowed, and he showed definite signs of digging in his heels. "Some things. We don't need to go today."
"Like hell we don't! You never wear that kilt except as a last resort. You know it, I know it--"
"And the American people know it, yes. Your devious Saturday Night Live quoting ways are as sign language to the blind. I'm in the middle of some downloads." With that, Jamie made himself scarce.
Geoff knuckled at a muscle knot in his temple. He followed his flatmate into Jamie's room (never an ideal hiding place, but Jamie was a creature of habit). Jamie parked himself at his desk and hunched his shoulders, calling to mind the noble porcupine.
A brief survey of Jamie's laundry basket confirmed the severity of the case. The basket itself overflowed into piles on the floor, while every dresser drawer stood open and empty. Some of the humour of it seemed to fade when Geoff realised he'd never seen Jamie's room so messed up. His friend must have hit a less than stellar mental state to allow it to get this disorganised.
"Looks a little overwhelming," Geoff ventured, hoping Jamie wouldn't get defensive about it. No response. Of course it was overwhelming. "There's no reason not to do it today. You're free, I'm free, and I've a load or so to put in anyway..." Jamie muttered something, but made no move to get up. "Listen, just. How about this - if you help me, I'll help you."
"Help you with what?"
"Your laundry."
Jamie threw him a puzzled glance. "Then, help me with what?"
"Um, your laundry."
"Working together on it. Why didn't you just say that?" Jamie eyed his laundry pile and grimaced, seeming pushed on by gravity rather more than usual. "I'd prefer not to, but. Waiting 'till tomorrow 'd mean wearing my suit, or something dirty, and neither of those really work for me."
:~:
At the laundrette, Geoff began to find reasons behind Jamie's hesitation. The lights were fluorescent and flickery, and the sound of the machines incessant. If Geoff could smell five different kinds of soap behind the scent of stale cigarettes, Jamie was getting clobbered by it. Treating the place like a war zone seemed logical - no exacting sorting methods, just dumping the clothes into five adjacent washers, adding detergent and coins, then a cut-and-run maneuver. Geoff went back in to start his own load, but soon enough was back to sit on the kerb beside Jamie.
"You really hate this place, don't you."
"Aye."
"The sounds, most? Or the smells?"
Jamie shrugged, squinting in the glaring sun. "Carrying so much isn't too good. I always, always drop things. Though the cardboard box was a good idea. Asking strangers to make change for me, echh. Putting my clothes where everybody's been touching. And the floor in the back where it's sticky." Jamie got a chill. He shook it off. "What I hate is an hour and a half in an unfamiliar building that costs money to assault my senses."
"Then let's get out of here." Geoff stood, and offered a hand to Jamie.
"Really? Should we leave our things..?"
"Not for too long, but we can at least get a drink or something."
"Where?"
"Anywhere. Shall we?"
Jamie hesitated, steeled himself, and took the outstretched hand, levering himself up awkwardly. He didn't return Geoff's grin, but seemed to relax marginally into the state of flux that was any big event outside the house. He was batting dust off the hem of his kilt as Geoff unlocked the car.
"Why don't you wear that thing more often? It's actually really nice. Sort of suits you."
Jamie made a face. "It prickles." A beat, then he glared at Geoff, who was smothering giggles, and said, "I know what you're thinking, and I don't want to talk about it!"
"You're out of clean pants! You're out of clean pants! Jamie's going freeee!"
"I don't want to talk about it, I said!" Jamie shouted, but he was laughing as he climbed into the car to cuff Geoff on the side of the head.
It hadn't been easy to reach that laugh, but it was still possible, Geoff told himself, worries much relieved.
:~: