World: Castle D'Image
Scene: Kerrigan's study, July 31, 4281. Katie, the daughter of Leila and Piers, has just been born prematurely. [
Players: Kerrigan = Abby; Stormy = SJ
Comes a knock on the door.
"Yeah."
Stormy slips inside, changed for bed. "Hey, Anata."
Kerrigan is slumped in the corner chair, leaning his head in one hand. He looks up and gives her a crooked grin. "Hey, sweet."
Stormy crosses the room, and leans a hip against the desk. "She had a girl. They're both fine."
Kerrigan nods slowly. "'s good," he says on an exhaled breath.
Stormy eyes him a moment, then makes a show of examining her nails, casually. "She's blonde."
Kerrigan looks at her dazedly. "Leila?"
Stormy frowns at him. "No. The baby."
Kerrigan blinks a little. "Oh. Well, that's nice..."
Stormy examines her nails again. "Just like Keiko's hair."
Kerrigan still looks blank for a minute. Then goes abruptly red. "Stormy!"
Stormy plants her hands on her hips. "Well! It is. And why were y'so worried about this one?"
Kerrigan stands up. "Xian Hibiki. You know better than that."
Stormy tosses her head, still ruffled. "Well... I just know all the old biddies are going to talk."
Kerrigan lets out an irritated hiss through his teeth. "They always talk. In fact they've talked about that exact same subject since Garrick, gods help him, was lost at sea and I don't see why you should start caring whether they talk now."
Stormy crosses her arms over her chest tightly. "'Cause she didn't have a blonde baby before, that's why."
So Kerrigan does too, wearily. "Oh, the hell, Stormy. It's a Lochlainer kid, they all look like that in Lochlain. Leila takes after her father. Which you very well know."
Stormy scowls, clearly in one of her irrational moods. "What am I supposed t'think? It's not like y'haven't always had a thing for her."
Kerrigan's expression hardens into the old, chilly, mocking look. "Well, if we're going to play that way, I might ask you about Keiko. Garrick... comes from a fair-haired lot, too."
Stormy snorts, and tosses her head. "Oh, it's not the same thing! Yer blond, so yer daughter is too. And I never even saw Garry-kun that much, unlike y'an' Leila."
Kerrigan's eyes go colder still. "Daughters, plural, isn't that your argument, or don't you keep track? --I'm not going to stand here and listen to this." He sidesteps, heading for the door.
Stormy's eyes widen at that, then narrow in a sudden fury. She takes a quick step towards him, one small hand lashing out towards his face. "Bastard!"
Kerrigan yelps and whirls back around, snatching at her hand. "Gods damn it to f*ckin' hell, I didn't start this!"
Stormy glares up at him, dark eyes snapping. "No, y'jus' es.. esca.. make it worse!"
Kerrigan tightens his grip on her wrist mercilessly. "Don't give me that. You come in here with an accusation like that, and when I give you a civilized denial which you damn well shouldn't need, you not only refuse to believe me but you turn around and try to tell me this is my fault! No." He lets her go roughly. "I don't take that."
Stormy winces, and jerks back when he lets her go, rubbing at her wrist. Too wound up now to back down, and let this go, she instead snaps, "Fine! Then why don't y'jus' go? Maybe Leila'll take y'in."
Which means, of course, that Kerrigan can't let it go either. "Maybe I should ask her. Be a damn sight more decent than here. And if her latest is up in the sickroom making nasty insinuations--" there's a word; the man's been practicing his vocabulary "--well, we can commiserate, can't we?" This with enough sarcasm to poison a moose.
A lot of those words go over her head, but Stormy catches the sarcasm easily enough. She turns and snatches a book from the bookcase, making to wing it at his head. "Go then!" she snarls again. "It's not like we'd miss y'around here. Yer always workin' late with her anyway."
You'd think, if Kerrigan couldn't do anything right, he'd still dodge competently. But he doesn't. The book catches him squarely on the temple and knocks him stumbling against the doorjamb. He clutches vainly at the wall to steady himself, then drops heavily, awkwardly to one knee.
Stormy gasps in horror, having truly expected him to dodge. "Kerrigan!" she cries out, and bolts across the room to his side, dropping down on her knees beside him. "Oh, Anata. 'm so sorry. Are you all right?"
Kerrigan sucks in a breath. "Shit." One hand comes up, unsteadily, to feel of the rising bruise, as he blinks at the floor. "Hellfire."
Stormy's fingers flutter near his temple, though she doesn't touch him. "Oh, Kami. We need t'get some ice on that, Anata. Can y'stand? 'm so sorry."
Kerrigan blinks a couple more times, as though trying to clear rainwater out of his eyes. Fuzzily: "Thass th'firs' time in months you called me Kerrigan."
Stormy stares at him a moment, eyes wide. "Y'keep track of that kinda thing?" She shakes her head, "Nevermin' that. You sit here, 'm gonna go getcha some ice, okay?"
Kerrigan says dimly, docilely, "Yeah." He sinks back to sit on the floor.
Stormy pats his shoulder, and stands, scampering from the room quickly.
Kerrigan listens to her go, too dazed to turn and look.
Stormy returns shortly, a cloth in hand. She kneels down beside him, and reaches to press the soft, ice-filled cloth to his temple. "Here," she murmurs.
Kerrigan hisses a little at the sudden cold, then reaches up to hold it in place. "Thanks. Damn..."
Stormy bows her head somewhat, her tone meek now. "'m so sorry, Anata. I thought y'd dodge."
Kerrigan summons a crooked, wan grin. "So'd I."
Stormy bites her lip, then reaches out a hand to rub his shoulder lightly. "Can y'ever forgive me? I shouldn't have said what I said. I know y'd never cheat on me with Leila."
Kerrigan puts out his free hand to pat her awkwardly. "'sallright," he murmurs.
Stormy gazes at him worriedly, half afraid she broke something. "Anata? Are y'gonna be all right? Yer talkin' bad."
Kerrigan looks faintly offended. "'sat supposed t'mean?"
Stormy wrings her fingers together. "Kami, I think I broke somethin'. Y'ain't talkin' like y'usually do."
Kerrigan says stoutly, "'course I am. I'm fine. Don't worry." He sits up a bit, still holding the ice pack, and essays a grin.
Stormy looks a bit relieved as he grins, and reaches to touch his cheek lightly. "'M so sorry, Kerrigan. Really, I am."
Kerrigan turns his head -- carefully -- to kiss her fingertips. "'sallright. J's' have a little faith, all right?" Another lopsided half-grin.
Stormy nods, pressing the kissed fingertips to her lip. "We should prolly getcha inta bed, Anata."
Kerrigan starts to nod, then thinks better of it. "Yeah..."
Stormy gets to her feet, then reaches down to grab his arm, and help him up. "C'mon, love."
Kerrigan chuckles a little. "Haven't called me 'at in longer." He climbs to his feet, holding her hand, somewhat lacking in his usual grace.
Stormy looks ever so regretful, moving to support him. "I'm sorry," she says again. "I can't believe I hit y'with that book."
Kerrigan snorts ruefully. "I can."
Stormy looks rather ashamed of herself, urging him towards the door. "I hope the girls didn' hear any of that."
Kerrigan cautiously lowers the ice. "'f they did they're not talkin' about it."
Stormy tilts her head to listen, and nods, then flutters her fingers at him. "Leave that on there."
Kerrigan obediently replaces the pack, wincing a little again.
Stormy swings open the bedroom door, and tries to help him in.
[Bedroom]
Stormy lets go of him, to move to the bed, pulling down the blankets. "A rest'll do y'good."
A lull in the random music of the wind chime, followed by a renewed ringing, signals a change in the wind.
Kerrigan gives her a yet more crooked grin. "How dull." He drops down to sit on the bed, abruptly.
Stormy stares at him a moment, then laughs. "Kerri-chan, I don' think yer up t'anythin' more then restin'."
Kerrigan looks up at her wickedly. "You don't?" And then, relenting, admits, "You're prob'ly right. Damn shame it is, too." He leans against the bedpost, grinning hazily.
Stormy shakes her head, and reaches to help him get his clothing off. "I'll have t'remember this. If I wantcha randy, I jus' gotta hit y'with a book."
Kerrigan breaks up laughing. "Damn, woman. Every time I think you're a little lady." He puts down the ice pack clumsily and moves to help her. "Wasn't the book, it was the 'Kerri-chan'. Threw me right back to that damn' little room with the lace pillows..."
Stormy grins, her expression softening. "I miss those days, sometimes, y'know?" She winks at him, peeling clothing off. "An' who ever said I was a lady?"
Kerrigan laughs a little, looking as wistful as Kerrigan ever does. "Me too. Was a lot simpler."
Stormy urges him to lay down, smiling softly. "It was," she agrees. "Just us, sittin' out on the porch swing all night. No worries."
Kerrigan grins a bit. "Yeah. --It was a nice little room, you know..." He fumbles for the word. "Airy, like. Not like this barn."
Stormy grins again, and moves to stretch out on the bed beside him. "Hai," she agrees. "Though I know y'didn' like all the lace an' silk. Didja?"
Kerrigan snickers a little. "Well, no. But it suited you, kind of. And it was... I dunno... it fit. This..." he waves a hand limply. "Gods."
Stormy lifts a hand to gently stroke his hair back from his brow. "Y'don' like it here, love?"
Kerrigan casts her an uncharacteristically soft smile. "Comes with the territory. You can't raise two kids in one very nice little room in the attic. But, well... I grew up in a house half the size of this room. I rattle around in it like a pea in a pot. You know?"
Stormy continues to feather her fingers though his hair, laying quietly beside him. "I know whatcha mean. I shared my room growin' up with my sisters. There wasn't much room t'yerself. I love this house, though, I do really miss that porch swing."
Kerrigan chuckles again. "You and that swing." He traces a finger along her collarbone, lightly. "I'm not complaining. I just... don't fit, somehow."
Stormy smiles, and curls closer to him with a soft little sigh. "It don't matter where we are, Kerri-chan, we fit together."
Kerrigan gives her an evil look. "That's for damn sure." Then grins, like a small boy, in apology, and shifts to bury his face in her shoulder. "I know. We do." And after a pause: "'m sorry, Stormy. About tonight."
Stormy shifts to slip an arm about him, fingers stroking his hair still. "No, it was my fault, Kerri-chan. I was actin' like a... like I dunno what. I'm sorry."
Kerrigan kisses her shoulder. "All right, so we're even. And we won't do it again, right?"
Stormy nods, fingers clinging lightly to a few strands of his hair. "Never 'gain," she declares. "I'll never doubt y'gain, love."
Kerrigan lets out a ragged little laugh. "Thank you." He shifts, carefully, wincing a little, and slides an arm beneath her shoulders. "You're my sweetheart. You know that. I'd rather you than a dozen Leilas. Or anyone elses."
Stormy promptly snuggles all the closer to him, smiling. "Even though I drive y'up a tree?"
Kerrigan grins. "Even though. You 'n' your damn terror of shoes." He kisses her hair.
Stormy wrinkles her nose at him. "I don' have a terror of shoes. I jus' don' like em on my clean floors."
Kerrigan teases, "You and your clean floors."
Stormy aims a playful nip at his shoulder. "Wretch," she teases back, grinning.
Kerrigan squawks softly. "Ow! First you bash my brains out with a book and now this. Termagant. Twenty-one years old and a termagant, by gods." His eyes are still twinkling.
Stormy laughs, though she has no clue what termagant means, and snuggles closer into his arms. "I was jus' tryin' t'knock some sense into ya," she teases.
Kerrigan snickers again. "You did that, all right. I'm going to have sense up there for a week." He grins at her, and leans over to kiss her cheek. "Go to sleep, you."
Stormy gives him another apologetic look, and burrows down obediently. "Night, Kerri-chan," she says softly. "I love ya."
Kerrigan murmurs, "I love you, too." He traces a finger briefly through her hair. "Night, Stormy-girl." And leans back into the pillow, closing his eyes.