Post by Jack Trove on Jul 8, 2008 19:44:28 GMT
Jogging was now no longer a request- it was a routine. Miranda had managed to convince Jack to change the time to earlier in the morning ("Y'all shouldn't waste your holidays in bed!") and had shortened the time from 10 hours to 2- which, Jack was forced to admit, made a lot more sense. However, Miranda had placed no ban on him hounding her throughout the day; a task which, day in, day out, Jack threw himself headfirst into. Nor did she have any issues with the fact that instead of going out every evening like he used to, he hung out and played pool with her in the basement instead.
That was, until tonight.
Jack groaned as the red ball bounced off the corner of the pool table into a yellow ball. If he'd just aimed the slightest bit more to the left he would've potted that- easily. He looked upwards with a grimace.
"Your turn, then."
"Oh, don't complain," Miranda sighed. "Half your balls are gone and I haven't even had a go yet!"
He grinned sheepishly, stepping backwards and holding his cue to the side to make room for her.
"Hey, Jack?" she started, as she leaned over the table, going for an easy shot first. "D'you ever... play pool at Orchid Hill?"
"I don't think they've got a table!" Jack chuckled. Which was surprising, really. Orchid seemed to have everything else. Still, there were a few snooker and pool tables down at the Knight Pub, but Jack knew that Miranda wouldn't believe him if he told her that his visits there were totally innocent.
Heck, he wouldn't believe him.
"So... what do y'all do there?"
"Er... I play a lot of rugby, and I-"
"No!" Miranda laughed. "Y'all as in you all. C'mon, Jack, think about the context! I'm talking about you and your friends."
"Oh." Yeah. That would make sense.
"Well?" she prompted.
"Hang out, mostly."
"Doing what?"
"I dunno," he blinked. "Just... hanging out."
"Talking?"
"Mostly."
"About what?"
"Well, I dunno."
"Rugby?"
"They only bring that up to tell me how damaged my brain is by it."
She snorted. "Ah. Yes. Well... what else?"
"Girls... sometimes," he frowned. "Most of us have girlfriends."
"You too, huh?"
"Yeah..."
"Thought so," she said softly, "and I'm willing to bet she's pretty."
"Yeah. Very."
"Tall?"
"Yep."
"Blond?"
Sophie's golden hair fanned out before him. "No. Ginger."
Miranda chuckled. "Glad to see you're not a total walking cliché."
Jack rolled his eyes. "What's with all the questions?"
A yellow ball shot across the table, cracking into another. "I'm just... curious, I suppose."
Jack raised an eyebrow. Miranda didn't simply get curious. "Alright. And what about you?"
Miranda frowned as one of her yellow balls struck off a red. "Your go."
"Miranda?"
"Yes?"
"What do you and your friends do?"
She shifted. "Well, I don't really... have friends this side of the Atlantic."
"Well," Jack shrugged, "you haven't been here for long."
"No..."
"Why not go out?"
"I just don't have anyone to go with, I guess."
"What about your sister?"
"She don't like leaving her babies."
"She could bring 'em here!" His face lit with sudden enthusiasm at his idea. "I don't mind- I'll look after them!"
Miranda wrinkled her nose. "Y'all... like babies, Jack?"
"Sure, sure," Jack waved his hand- then stopped. "Er... how many we talking here?"
"Three."
...
"Three?"
"A 7 year old, a 4 year old and a 6 month old baby," she smirked. "Y'all sure you've thought this through, Jack?"
"Three?"
"That's right. Isabella, Jack and Carl."
"Jack?"
"We call him, 'Lil' Jack'," Miranda replied. "Carl's the youngest, Jack's the 3 year old, and Isabella's the big, bossy sister."
"Er... wow," Jack chuckled weakly. "Okay. Cool."
"How come you don't go out, Jack?"
He shrugged, focusing his attention on Miranda once more.
"I know you've got friends at school- but what about here?"
"Miranda," Jack shook his head, gesturing towards the stairs, "you do know where I live, right? You don't get a chance to make friends in this neighbourhood- unless they're 80 year old trillionaires with trophy wives."
"What about in the estates?" She obviously wasn't going to give up.
"Never thought to go there. I didn't need friends, 'cause..."
He stopped suddenly.
Miranda's eyes followed him closely. Jack, noticing the pool table again, picked up his cue and leaned over it. But the feeling of her eyes burning on the back of his neck was bothering him, and his concentration broke. A red ball knocked against a yellow, and Jack swore viciously.
"Jack!"
"Your go, then," he muttered darkly, dragging his cue backwards.
She didn't step forward. She was watching him again. "Because...?"
"Because what?"
"Why didn't you need friends?"
"Oh." Jack's head cleared. "Because I had Mal. And now I've got you." His cheeks burned suddenly, and his eyes shot to the table.
"Me?" Her bafflement was clear in her voice.
"Sure," Jack responded roughly. "We're friends, aren't we?"
She laughed. "Yes, of course! But... I'm no replacement for your brother."
"Nah," Jack's eyes snapped upwards, and although he smiled, they held no real humour. "You're better. You won't cast me aside for money and girls."
"I don't think he-"
"Miranda! It's your go."
She stopped, and dipped her head. "Sorry... sir."
He didn't bother to correct her. Instead, Jack watched forlornly as Miranda potted her penultimate yellow ball. She was going to win. One more ball, and she'd be onto the black. This depressed him considerably.
He really hated losing.
"Miranda?"
"Yessir?" she murmured, her brow furrowed in concentration as she surveyed the table.
"What about... guys?"
His question was hardly articulate, but somehow, Miranda understood exactly what he meant.
"Nope."
"None?"
"One," she stopped. "Back... in Texas. It was good for a while, but-"
"But?"
She smiled grimly. "Circumstances changed."
There was a crack like a whip, and the black ball shot forwards into a corner pocket. The bright white cue ball glinted at Jack amidst a sea of five red balls.
Miranda looked at him, her eyes warming to their customary chocolate brown once more. "Guess that means I win."
"F*cking..." To be fair, it was a relatively mild term for what he was feeling right now.
However, he still received a sharp poke from the end of her cue.
"Y'all know I don't like swearing, Jack Trove!"
"Yeah, yeah..." he rubbed his stomach weakly. "Didn't mean you had to poke so hard, though."
She smirked; the cue held aloft threateningly. "I'll do it again if y'all keep complainin' like that."
The hand massaging his stomach clamped over the rest of his torso protectively.
She looked down at his hands. "Y'all oughta' know... I'll be aiming lower than that."
"Christ!" Jack jumped out of range as he realised his mistake. "Er... I mean..."
She tilted her head expectantly.
"Golly?"
Her eyes hardened, and Jack's heart shriveled in fear. Menacingly, Miranda stepped forward, her cue extending towards him. "Do you know what a 'golly' is, Jack Trove?"
He gulped; mentally saying his goodbyes to any hopes of ever fathering any children. "Er..."
"Neither do I!" Cheerfully, she tossed him her cue, which in his surprise, he missed, and managed to drop his own. "I reckon I'd better get to bed. It's getting late. Night, sir!" As she reached the door, she paused and turned, a wicked glint in her eye. "Best be careful, sir. I may just take you up on that babysitting offer of yours."
Jack's grip slackened on the cue as he was picking it up, and he waited until she was well out of earshot before a stream of filthy words erupted from his mouth.
That was, until tonight.
Jack groaned as the red ball bounced off the corner of the pool table into a yellow ball. If he'd just aimed the slightest bit more to the left he would've potted that- easily. He looked upwards with a grimace.
"Your turn, then."
"Oh, don't complain," Miranda sighed. "Half your balls are gone and I haven't even had a go yet!"
He grinned sheepishly, stepping backwards and holding his cue to the side to make room for her.
"Hey, Jack?" she started, as she leaned over the table, going for an easy shot first. "D'you ever... play pool at Orchid Hill?"
"I don't think they've got a table!" Jack chuckled. Which was surprising, really. Orchid seemed to have everything else. Still, there were a few snooker and pool tables down at the Knight Pub, but Jack knew that Miranda wouldn't believe him if he told her that his visits there were totally innocent.
Heck, he wouldn't believe him.
"So... what do y'all do there?"
"Er... I play a lot of rugby, and I-"
"No!" Miranda laughed. "Y'all as in you all. C'mon, Jack, think about the context! I'm talking about you and your friends."
"Oh." Yeah. That would make sense.
"Well?" she prompted.
"Hang out, mostly."
"Doing what?"
"I dunno," he blinked. "Just... hanging out."
"Talking?"
"Mostly."
"About what?"
"Well, I dunno."
"Rugby?"
"They only bring that up to tell me how damaged my brain is by it."
She snorted. "Ah. Yes. Well... what else?"
"Girls... sometimes," he frowned. "Most of us have girlfriends."
"You too, huh?"
"Yeah..."
"Thought so," she said softly, "and I'm willing to bet she's pretty."
"Yeah. Very."
"Tall?"
"Yep."
"Blond?"
Sophie's golden hair fanned out before him. "No. Ginger."
Miranda chuckled. "Glad to see you're not a total walking cliché."
Jack rolled his eyes. "What's with all the questions?"
A yellow ball shot across the table, cracking into another. "I'm just... curious, I suppose."
Jack raised an eyebrow. Miranda didn't simply get curious. "Alright. And what about you?"
Miranda frowned as one of her yellow balls struck off a red. "Your go."
"Miranda?"
"Yes?"
"What do you and your friends do?"
She shifted. "Well, I don't really... have friends this side of the Atlantic."
"Well," Jack shrugged, "you haven't been here for long."
"No..."
"Why not go out?"
"I just don't have anyone to go with, I guess."
"What about your sister?"
"She don't like leaving her babies."
"She could bring 'em here!" His face lit with sudden enthusiasm at his idea. "I don't mind- I'll look after them!"
Miranda wrinkled her nose. "Y'all... like babies, Jack?"
"Sure, sure," Jack waved his hand- then stopped. "Er... how many we talking here?"
"Three."
...
"Three?"
"A 7 year old, a 4 year old and a 6 month old baby," she smirked. "Y'all sure you've thought this through, Jack?"
"Three?"
"That's right. Isabella, Jack and Carl."
"Jack?"
"We call him, 'Lil' Jack'," Miranda replied. "Carl's the youngest, Jack's the 3 year old, and Isabella's the big, bossy sister."
"Er... wow," Jack chuckled weakly. "Okay. Cool."
"How come you don't go out, Jack?"
He shrugged, focusing his attention on Miranda once more.
"I know you've got friends at school- but what about here?"
"Miranda," Jack shook his head, gesturing towards the stairs, "you do know where I live, right? You don't get a chance to make friends in this neighbourhood- unless they're 80 year old trillionaires with trophy wives."
"What about in the estates?" She obviously wasn't going to give up.
"Never thought to go there. I didn't need friends, 'cause..."
He stopped suddenly.
Miranda's eyes followed him closely. Jack, noticing the pool table again, picked up his cue and leaned over it. But the feeling of her eyes burning on the back of his neck was bothering him, and his concentration broke. A red ball knocked against a yellow, and Jack swore viciously.
"Jack!"
"Your go, then," he muttered darkly, dragging his cue backwards.
She didn't step forward. She was watching him again. "Because...?"
"Because what?"
"Why didn't you need friends?"
"Oh." Jack's head cleared. "Because I had Mal. And now I've got you." His cheeks burned suddenly, and his eyes shot to the table.
"Me?" Her bafflement was clear in her voice.
"Sure," Jack responded roughly. "We're friends, aren't we?"
She laughed. "Yes, of course! But... I'm no replacement for your brother."
"Nah," Jack's eyes snapped upwards, and although he smiled, they held no real humour. "You're better. You won't cast me aside for money and girls."
"I don't think he-"
"Miranda! It's your go."
She stopped, and dipped her head. "Sorry... sir."
He didn't bother to correct her. Instead, Jack watched forlornly as Miranda potted her penultimate yellow ball. She was going to win. One more ball, and she'd be onto the black. This depressed him considerably.
He really hated losing.
"Miranda?"
"Yessir?" she murmured, her brow furrowed in concentration as she surveyed the table.
"What about... guys?"
His question was hardly articulate, but somehow, Miranda understood exactly what he meant.
"Nope."
"None?"
"One," she stopped. "Back... in Texas. It was good for a while, but-"
"But?"
She smiled grimly. "Circumstances changed."
There was a crack like a whip, and the black ball shot forwards into a corner pocket. The bright white cue ball glinted at Jack amidst a sea of five red balls.
Miranda looked at him, her eyes warming to their customary chocolate brown once more. "Guess that means I win."
"F*cking..." To be fair, it was a relatively mild term for what he was feeling right now.
However, he still received a sharp poke from the end of her cue.
"Y'all know I don't like swearing, Jack Trove!"
"Yeah, yeah..." he rubbed his stomach weakly. "Didn't mean you had to poke so hard, though."
She smirked; the cue held aloft threateningly. "I'll do it again if y'all keep complainin' like that."
The hand massaging his stomach clamped over the rest of his torso protectively.
She looked down at his hands. "Y'all oughta' know... I'll be aiming lower than that."
"Christ!" Jack jumped out of range as he realised his mistake. "Er... I mean..."
She tilted her head expectantly.
"Golly?"
Her eyes hardened, and Jack's heart shriveled in fear. Menacingly, Miranda stepped forward, her cue extending towards him. "Do you know what a 'golly' is, Jack Trove?"
He gulped; mentally saying his goodbyes to any hopes of ever fathering any children. "Er..."
"Neither do I!" Cheerfully, she tossed him her cue, which in his surprise, he missed, and managed to drop his own. "I reckon I'd better get to bed. It's getting late. Night, sir!" As she reached the door, she paused and turned, a wicked glint in her eye. "Best be careful, sir. I may just take you up on that babysitting offer of yours."
Jack's grip slackened on the cue as he was picking it up, and he waited until she was well out of earshot before a stream of filthy words erupted from his mouth.
