| Goodbye begins there.
I've been staring at this blank screen for a good half hour (in between bouts of things that vaguely resemble productivity), and I'll be damned if I can come up with anything as touching or meaningful as the others already have. But this is my chance to babble, and god damn it, I'm going to babble.
( My part ends here. ) | comments: 51 comments or Leave a comment   |
| Since I’ve been poked several times for this -
Ask me a question - anything about me or my life - and I will give you an honest answer. I'll allow any sort of question, though if it's completely tasteless and asked only for the shock factor rather than a genuine inquiry, I reserve the right to not answer.
Again, it might be some time before I have a chance to answer.
*pokes Merquise* Happy now? | | comments: 39 comments or Leave a comment |
| It's Thursday, and I think I'm still drunk.
Trowa's plan for Monday worked rather well. Nightshift did give me several long looks, and someone quipped about a voodoo curse, but we'll ignore all of that for humour's sake.
Merquise hasn't commented at any great length, so that leaves one of two options. Either I've suitably distracted him, or he's busy plotting revenge. On Trowa, I hope. I'm a small fry compared to Trowa. A bit player, really.
I'm fairly certain he left the thank-you note and wine just to get me in trouble.
Mardi Gras was Mardi Gras, meaning we did things we're not supposed to do, things we'd never normally do (with some notable exceptions), and had a great if slightly blurry time. The only thing Trowa missed mentioning was the impromptu roadtrip for Merquise and I.
A flight would be too easy, you see. Merquise wanted to play with his toy (he hasn't stopped complaining about not being able to use his car since winter set in), so apparently the trip down south was the perfect opportunity.
( Roadtrip ) | | comments: 22 comments or Leave a comment |
| One has to wonder what the bloody hell Une is doing. Information flow has nearly bottomed out, the lab techs are so backed up that not even a few well-placed bribes and/or threats push my cases so much as even an inch on the roster, and the new trainees are complete and utter dolts.
To say my patience is wearing thin would be an understatement. That kind of carelessness, or oversight, or whatever other numbing word you wish to use for it, is unacceptable. I’ll hang the agent that warned Briggs I was on the lookout for him; he found a rabbit hole to hide in as soon as I passed security. I had planned on leaving it completely to the advisory board, but now that he’s on the run, I’ve changed my mind. Quality entertainment is scarce during these cold winter months.
Which reminds me that I’m also giving serious consideration to digging my way through Merquise’s closet to see if those endless boots of his are still around. I’m tired of getting snow in mine. | | comments: 12 comments or Leave a comment |
| I've managed to get more work done the entire weekend than I have in the last two combined. I’m sure in some way, that’s a good thing, but I missed my lazy days with all the little distractions. I can believe that he snuck off without telling a soul, but leaving his ID on the counter and gun tucked in the safe wasn’t like him at all. He must be slipping.
And he’s being insufferably closed-mouthed about the details. I suppose I could easily nag them out of Maxwell, but that’d hardly be as much fun. One mention of force-feeding him Merquise’s coffee, and that’d be the end of it.
That, and I’ve my own ideas for creative interrogation. | | comments: 10 comments or Leave a comment |
| [filtered from everyone except Trowa]
Trowa -
You don’t happen to have plans for Quatre tomorrow evening, do you? I thought I might catch a shuttle to L4 for the night, take you both out to dinner and deliver his present.
It’s short notice, so if you do have something in mind, don’t worry about it. I can always mail the gift, and perhaps visit later when you're not busy. | | comments: 3 comments or Leave a comment |
| Geary only thinks he’s funny.
I realise I spend a good amount of time at Merquise’s apartment. If he’s busy, I’ll answer his vid, mostly because it seems rude to sit on my ass while it beeps itself to an annoying death. I did it without a second thought this morning when the Preventers code flashed, citing my own acceptance code and name. Merquise was standing in the hallway, laughing, when Dispatch asked for me, not him.
There’s something so satisfying about snapping someone with their own towel. | | comments: 16 comments or Leave a comment |
| The celebrations are barely over, and already I’m clocking overtime. It isn’t really surprising, given the personnel shortages holidays inevitably cause, but truth be told, I wasn’t quite ready for the fun to be over.
Christmas at Lu’s was both relaxing and tiring. There’s something about that old house that allows me to settle, and once I have, there’s absolutely no desire to move more than the distance from the couch to the kitchen, with a little side trip to the liquor cabinet. Or two, depending on the company kept.
Cinque remains much the same, though it was nice to visit off-assignment for once. I think it will always be one place where my memory matches the reality, no matter the distance in years. The circus was an explosion of light and sound in the middle of its calm, and a welcome one judging by the turnout. It was the first time I had the chance to see Trowa perform, and it went far beyond impressive. I’m well aware of his talent and ability, but there’s a great difference in unconsciously knowing something and having it demonstrated in full colour right in front of you. Sometimes it’s so very easy to forget what we’re capable of.
I’m of two minds about the blindfold act. If it had been anyone but Cathy, the idiot would still be dangling from a tree by his balls.
New Years Eve went much the same as Christmas - good food, good drink, good company, and an excess of all but the last. Wandering the halls with a few minutes left till midnight, bottles in hand and singing off-key carols happens to be my favourite part.
...and that’s the end of that thought, since Merquise appears to be falling through my doorway. | | comments: 40 comments or Leave a comment |
| Teaching Merquise to brew a drinkable pot of coffee is a more time-consuming and daunting task than I’d ever imagined.
Tonight is one of the rare nights when I have little in the way of pressing casework vying for my attention. The relaxed and mellow feeling from Thanksgiving is lingering, making it a very pleasant thing to be inside instead of out in the chilly mist. The weather isn’t normally something that bothers me since I tend to like the unpredictability of it. A hazard of being colony-born, I suppose.
I realised today that the Christmas season is starting again. I hadn’t really made the connection between that and Thanksgiving - I tend to forget most of the American holidays, even after living here for so long, but I’m surprised I let this one slip. There’s no mistaking the dichotomy of Christmas; the love-hate relationship that so many who celebrate it seem to have, and even some of those who don’t.
There hasn’t been much talk of it yet, but I wonder if we’re planning to keep the habit we’ve developed lately, and get together for the holiday. It’s hard to imagine this year will mark the eighth anniversary. It seems like it hasn’t been nearly long enough, and that it was a lifetime ago. | | comments: 41 comments or Leave a comment |
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