elnysa | TEXT; UN: J.SHEPPARD

Well that's your mistake. Work from the elbow, not the wrist.

You can demonstrate when you get here. I take correction well enough.

And you think I'm responsible for your blue balls. You know what I think? Some people just have a gift for doing it to themselves.

[But, some twenty minutes later, there's the sound of someone letting themselves in the door, and a voice calling (softly) through-]

You really should think about locking this. You have a child to consider now.

[ John is still sat on the floor beside one of the small beds pushed against the wall, a sleeping pile of fluff in his lap. Her ears and paws are still slightly bigger than is natural, a size too big.

He's gently smoothing the fur of her ruff, and twitches Prior a lopsided smile. ]

Don't you worry, she'd kick up quite the racket if anyone bothered her -- and besides which, I wouldn't let anyone.

[ John may be currently laid out on the floor with a puppy in his lap, looking oddly vulnerable, but he's still more than capable of causing anyone who tried to burst in and cause trouble a world of pain. ]

I could kick up a racket, too. I still lock mine.

[Prior takes in the whole dorm room look of the place for a moment - he'd ask for the tour, but this appears to be it - before slowly crossing over to the little tableau on the floor. He's done as instructed and hasn't dressed up for the visit, but has for the recent drop in temperature: slacks and a butter soft grey sweater tucked under a black coat, its collar popped to keep out the wind.]

Ugh, dogs. What a terrible pet to get.

[Carefully, he lowers himself to one knee, then down til he's sitting cross legged opposite. With a little rummaging in his coat pocket he pulls out a small, squeaky bone.]

That's kinda my style, all things terrible.

[ The puppy, though, is on the alert now someone is close. She snaps awake and fixes her eyes on Prior, then yawns and struggles up, looking to John for guidance. ]

Go on, then. He's definitely here to see you, not me.

[ She studies John a moment longer before snuffling around his legs and then then bounding up to Prior -- shaking herself before snuffling at him. ]

Ianto says we should call her Seren, and I have a sneaking suspicion that sounds a much prettier name when your welsh isn't as bad as mine. Apparently it means star.

Star. Well, it's what little girls name their ponies, but not bad otherwise. Did you have a suggestion of your own?

[There's not far for the dog to bound - fortunately, given that Prior's not built to take much bounding. His knees are a few inches from John's and her small body easily bridges the gap. Prior carefully shepherds her toward the good leg, letting his fingertips rub between her ears, fussing gently.

He's still holding out the toy.]

How do you know I didn't bring this for you?

Well you haven't asked me to squeak you yet, so...

[ Probably not for him? The puppy lifts her head, trying to sniff at the hand fussing at her ears, then flops over onto her back and bats at the offending fingers before noticing the toy. She wobbles back up onto her feet to begin investigating. All items held in hands belong to dogs, it is known. ]

I'm still getting to know her, but I'm generally of the opinion that dog names should be short so you can yell them to get their attention. She's pretty cute too, so obviously she needs a name to match -- even if she's going to grow up into a terrifying guard dog.

[ She wiggles and tries to pull the toy closer to her face with her paws, it isn't a particularly terrifying guard dog move. ]

Yet.

[Eyebrows raised, Prior dangles the toy for possibly-Seren until she successfully manages to snatch it out of his hand, immediately diving into a roll and cuddling with it. The bone lets out a couple of sharp squeals which Prior's very glad he doesn't have to spend the night listening to.

She may be cute. A little. For now. She certainly seems comfortable where she is.]

And all this time I thought you liked playing the terrifying guard yourself. Now I have to get on her good side, too.

Well, I'm passing my skills on to future generations.

[ He's training a replacement! Maybe. Sitting up a little better he watches her gently chew at the toy, back legs flicking to try and scrabble at it, and smiles fondly -- reaching out to ruffle at her ears again. ]

You want a drink? We have... tea, coffee, fruit juice, beer, cider I think, water...

[ Something else? He lofts an eyebrow, moves to push to his feet anyway. Even if Prior doesn't, he's getting himself a drink. ]

Since you're in my house, I figure I should be a good host.

Edited (same icon twice in a row!!) 2018-10-21 19:14 (UTC)

He says, after I'm sitting on the floor. [Prior teases, looking down at the puppy as she briefly gets confused and tries to wrestle his ankle, before skittering off across the kitchen to play nudge-and-pounce with the bone. He draws one knee up to his chest, leaning forward.]

This really is a bachelor pad. No wine of any shade? Water would be lovely, thank you.

I've warned you about the quality of my company before.

[ And there aren't any actual chairs, the beds basically double as things to sit on. They are at least neatly made? John fills two glasses with water and brings one over, holds it out to Prior then moves to settle down beside him.

The puppy, on seeing John is now at her level again, comes dashing back and begins to climb on him with her new toy -- tail wagging. ]

So.

[ He takes a sip of his drink then sets it aside, picking up the puppy and gently re-positioning her to be on the ground rather than in his lap. ]

Are you still angry at me? Because I'm not great at grovelling. Personal thing. Too many evil villain speeches ended in asking me to kneel and now it gets my back up.

Does that mean I should look for other minions to carry out my wicked plans? [Prior clasps his tumbler between both hands, peering at John over the surface of the water, like a cut-price diviner. Which isn't so far from the truth.]

I wouldn't be here if I was angry. Stung, maybe, but no permanent injury.

Good. I'm not...

[ The puppy makes for Prior's legs and John reaches out to grab her, picks her up to hold still so he can talk without having to chide or manage her for a moment. ]

I'm not good at... talking, but... it's been easier with you. Maybe because of your thing, maybe just because.

But.

I want you to know... that I appreciate it, and that... I can be here for you, too. That I'm... trying to be. So if you want to just come hang out, you can hang out. If you want to talk, you can. You want a distraction, I'll juggle. And if you do need me to ease up on the innuendo, I can do that too.

Look. [Prior says to the puppy, putting his glass aside to stretch a hand out and press his fingertips in a light circle over John's chest. The puppy watches, then licks his wrist.] For a moment there I thought I saw a stone bleed.

[The effort that took. Prior smiles, small but quite helpless, catching his other hand over his mouth for a second as he nods. Then pauses, and shakes his head quickly instead.]

Oh but please, don't stop the innuendo. I wouldn't know how to converse without it. Though, perhaps you should be careful how you use it. Some people might start to think it means something.

[ 'Some people'.

John studies Prior's expression thoughtfully, loft's an eyebrow in silent question. Does it really mean nothing? He's not sure about that. ]

I've never been good at careful.

[ A statement which is true on multiple levels, honestly. ]

No? Your pre-flight passenger announcements must have been a blast.

[Prior doesn't flinch away from the scrutiny, just makes his expression a little more inscrutable, raising his own eyebrows in response to that singular arched query on John's face. Yes?]

I never had any complaints.

[ ... Well. Any complaints beyond Rodney, who always complains about something.

He drops his eyes to the hand lingering on his chest, to the puppy who is squirming in his arms, and scratches under her chin. ]

But I didn't fly much in the way of domestic.

[ He did a few transfers for a while, sure, but most of the flying John has done hadn't been careful to begin with. ]

When someone tells me that, it usually means they fall asleep too quickly to hear them. Though I'll admit, they're not often mid air at the time.

[Prior reclaims his hand, finally, tucking both arms around himself and leaning back a little in an effort to make the floor more comfortable.]

You're not angry with me?

[ Is he angry at Prior?

John looks up sharply in surprise at that, confusion painting over his features. Why would --

Oh, well, he supposes it was... weird that Prior was actually in his dreams. He'd said he... hadn't done it on purpose though, right? Hesitation plays over his features for a moment, then John gives a half shrug. ]

Don't get me wrong, having people walk around in my nightmares isn't exactly my idea of a good time... but, if you didn't do it on purpose then...

[ Then it's not your fault, he gets that. ]

[It's not that Prior thinks anger would be justified. Understandable, however. And he'd sounded that way before.]

I can't do it on purpose. [Yet, anyway. Things seem to be in flux. There was a time when it all came as a shock to him: every flash of someone's secret personal movie reels. Each time something came to him he shouldn't have been able to know. Now he's used to the sensation, and finds he can push it from his end. Just a little. Only sometimes. Still.]

But it seems it can be a side effect of getting too close. I don't know if I'd seek that out, if I had the choice.

[ A side-effect of getting too close.

John leans back against the wall a little more, cradling the dog against his chest. She wriggles and he gives in and lets go, sets her down and sends the toy skittering across the floor for her. ]

Does that make us too close?

[Prior tips his head back, tilted enough to watch John's face.]

You're one of... maybe four people here who even knows about this - about me. So. Close enough.

I could say the same about you.

[ Blood from a stone, getting information from John Sheppard. Not a lot of people put in the effort. ]

And that's where the danger is.

[When it comes to things like accidentally joyriding someone's dreams or memories, is what he means, of course.]

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