Post by dechanique on Apr 25, 2005 22:45:50 GMT -5
Who: Dara, Quin and Al
When: January 26, 2005
Where: Alastair and Quin's apartment
Alastair stood in front of the stove, staring at his works in progress. He had invited Mr. Carey, the head of security, over for dinner. He left Quin to set the table (and move the boxes off from it as the pair had not finished moving in completely). He had conned another professor into driving him into Ennis for groceries, and thus actually had food to prepare. And so he stood, making round steak in gravy with onions and some side dishes. The red head placed the last piece of silverwear down on the table and straightened the tablecloth. He felt a bit anxious, as he always felt before meeting people.
It had taken what amounted to his skittering out when no one was looking, but the head of security had managed to get out from under scads of paperwork and radio coordinating. If he had been half his age, he probably would've ran full tilt for his rooms, screaming, "FREEDOM!" at the top of his lungs. As it was, he managed a hurried stride to change into his typical military casuals before swinging on by to get foo- errr, visit Al. He found himself wondering at the wisdom of cracking gay jokes again whilst knocking on their door.
Alastair looked up from his place in front of the stove, watching the steak. "Ah... can you get that Quin- it's probably Angus." He looked over his shoulder at the small redhead setting the table.
"Hmm? Allright." Quin smoothed the table cloth and stepped away from the table. The red head pulled open the door for the older man. "Ah, come in." He smiled nervously.
"Evenin'," said 'Angus,' blinking down at the much smaller man in mild surprise. Well. That certainly made his previous jokes quite ironic.
Alastair leaned out from the archway to the kitchen. "Ah, Quin, Angus, Angus Quin. I'm almost done.. do you want a drink?" He asked, wiping his hands on the plain black apron he was wearing to keep himself from staining his wifebeater with cooking oil.
Dara sidled past the newly introduced Quin and away from the door. "Sure," he called back. "Whaddya got?"
Alastair tilted his head up as if trying to recall what he had. "Ah.. some guiness, some harder stuff.. scotch, vodka, bacardi.. and of course the boring stuff, like orange juice, apple juice.. red wine."
Quin stopped himself from gaping too much. Good gods, the man was tall. He shook his head and closed the door as he headed back towards the kitchen, taking up some apple juice. No need to make a fool of himself by getting drunk.
"I'll take a Guinness. You've been raiding my stash of it lately." The visitor was actually a bit larger than Quin's husband, but only a bit.
Alastair let out a hearty, deep laugh. "Ah, but you were simply helping out a man in need. But yes.. ah.. can you get it Quin- I'm going to fucking burn the meat if I don't get back in here." He growled before dissapearing
"O-of coarse." He skittered off to retrive the drink and get a glass. Quin returned and handed the bottle to Angus. "Here you are..." He smiled slightly and sipped at his own drink.
"Thanks," he said, cracking it open and taking a few long gulps. "Mmf."
Alastair leaned back out. "Play nice." He warned Dara, green eyes narrowing slightly in mock suspicion. "Oh. And don't give Quin any alcohol." And he dissapeared again in a blur of blonde hair.
"I just got here!" Dara yelled back in protest.
"I don't trust you and your bad jokes!" He yelled back, forking the steaks onto the seperate plates, serving out the garlic and chive potatoes beside them and some vegetables, for a balanced meal.
Quin sort of... shrank back, sipping gingerly and face terribly red. Alastair had to say that didn't he. As it was he wanted nothing more then to hurry to his room and stay until Angus had eaten his fill.
"So. Hi," he said to Quin, not really knowing what else to say the nervous little man.
He cleared his throat. "H-hi." He managed not to sqweak too much, trying his best not to squirm. Ahh, he wanted to run. "Um... s-so... how long have you been.... um... head of... security?"
He decided that this size thing was definitely not working in his favor in the "friendly" department, and so looked for a place to sit down. "Eh, dunno. Over a decade now." Technically the truth, as he'd been in the position for 30 years now.
Alastair brought out the dishes, resting one in each hand and the third on his forearm, walking over to the table to set it down. "Round steak with onions in gravy, garlic and chive potatoes and some veggie things." He indicated as he set them down. He turned to Dara with a smirk. "If you don't like it i'll punch you."
"Meat, starch, and colored stuff. Looks good to me!" he declared, plunking down in front of a plate.
Quin wibbled, about to tell him he didn't have to sit on his account... but then maybe he really did want to sit. He shook his head and then sat down himself when Al set the plates out. Good... food was a very nice distraction and it would stop any nervous chatter.
Al returned to the kitchen to grab a few more beers and the container of apple juice for Quin and plunk them down on the table. "If you still want more- I have some in the kitchen for seconds. I eat alot.." Which was true.When you were the size of a house and built like a horse, you tended to eat alot of food to keep that motor running.
"Good. I haven't eaten all day. Damn work," he grumbled, digging into the potatoes.
"I-it's very good, as usual, Al." The red head smiled a little and pushed up his glasses. He chewed slowly on a bit of meat.
Alastair laughed gregariously. "Because I am the cooking master!" Before leaning over and opening his beer, taking a drink before setting it down. He waited for Angus to pause to breath from shoveling food into his face. "So, how's this stalker business going? Sure you dont need me to break some skulls?"
"It's going. Mostly a waiting game, really," he muttered, trying not to talk with his mouth full, though having difficulty with this as he was hungry.
Quin's eyes widened a little. "Stalkers...?" He looked between them. He really had to learn to keep up with goings on....
Alastair watched Dara's food dissapear. "God, don't you eat?"
"Not today, I didn't. Like I said before, 'Damn work.'"
"Um... I could go get you another plate..." Quin murmured, not feeling terribly hungry himself. He stood with his plate, planning to stick it in the fridge.
The head of security paused in mid-shovel, blinking slowly at Quin.
Alastair looked up at Quin for a moment as well. He spared a glance to Dara then back to Quin. Of course, Al didn't get that he was intimidated, he thought something else. "Um... I'm not cheating on you with him." He blinked, swearing up and down Quin was depressed because of something like that. Al could be dense sometimes.
This caused Dara to choke on his food. His fork clattered to his plate and he began coughing.
"What? No! I didn't... think... that..." He shook his head, face red. "N-nevermind...." With that he hurried off to hide, er... find tupperware for his food.
Dara would've watched the retreat had he not been busily dislodging a bit of steak from his throat.
Alastair blinked, looking perplexed as the smaller man ran off. "Wow, I swore that was it." He turned slowly to Dara. "Oh, crap- you ok? I know the heimlick."
He held up a hand in Al's general direction, and after another minute, the problem took care of itself. "Ugh..."
"Drink some more beer." He pushed the bottle closer before he grabbed is own and took a drink.
He was quite happy to help himself to the last of the beer in the bottle. "How about warning a guy before saying stuff like that while he's eating?"
When: January 26, 2005
Where: Alastair and Quin's apartment
Alastair stood in front of the stove, staring at his works in progress. He had invited Mr. Carey, the head of security, over for dinner. He left Quin to set the table (and move the boxes off from it as the pair had not finished moving in completely). He had conned another professor into driving him into Ennis for groceries, and thus actually had food to prepare. And so he stood, making round steak in gravy with onions and some side dishes. The red head placed the last piece of silverwear down on the table and straightened the tablecloth. He felt a bit anxious, as he always felt before meeting people.
It had taken what amounted to his skittering out when no one was looking, but the head of security had managed to get out from under scads of paperwork and radio coordinating. If he had been half his age, he probably would've ran full tilt for his rooms, screaming, "FREEDOM!" at the top of his lungs. As it was, he managed a hurried stride to change into his typical military casuals before swinging on by to get foo- errr, visit Al. He found himself wondering at the wisdom of cracking gay jokes again whilst knocking on their door.
Alastair looked up from his place in front of the stove, watching the steak. "Ah... can you get that Quin- it's probably Angus." He looked over his shoulder at the small redhead setting the table.
"Hmm? Allright." Quin smoothed the table cloth and stepped away from the table. The red head pulled open the door for the older man. "Ah, come in." He smiled nervously.
"Evenin'," said 'Angus,' blinking down at the much smaller man in mild surprise. Well. That certainly made his previous jokes quite ironic.
Alastair leaned out from the archway to the kitchen. "Ah, Quin, Angus, Angus Quin. I'm almost done.. do you want a drink?" He asked, wiping his hands on the plain black apron he was wearing to keep himself from staining his wifebeater with cooking oil.
Dara sidled past the newly introduced Quin and away from the door. "Sure," he called back. "Whaddya got?"
Alastair tilted his head up as if trying to recall what he had. "Ah.. some guiness, some harder stuff.. scotch, vodka, bacardi.. and of course the boring stuff, like orange juice, apple juice.. red wine."
Quin stopped himself from gaping too much. Good gods, the man was tall. He shook his head and closed the door as he headed back towards the kitchen, taking up some apple juice. No need to make a fool of himself by getting drunk.
"I'll take a Guinness. You've been raiding my stash of it lately." The visitor was actually a bit larger than Quin's husband, but only a bit.
Alastair let out a hearty, deep laugh. "Ah, but you were simply helping out a man in need. But yes.. ah.. can you get it Quin- I'm going to fucking burn the meat if I don't get back in here." He growled before dissapearing
"O-of coarse." He skittered off to retrive the drink and get a glass. Quin returned and handed the bottle to Angus. "Here you are..." He smiled slightly and sipped at his own drink.
"Thanks," he said, cracking it open and taking a few long gulps. "Mmf."
Alastair leaned back out. "Play nice." He warned Dara, green eyes narrowing slightly in mock suspicion. "Oh. And don't give Quin any alcohol." And he dissapeared again in a blur of blonde hair.
"I just got here!" Dara yelled back in protest.
"I don't trust you and your bad jokes!" He yelled back, forking the steaks onto the seperate plates, serving out the garlic and chive potatoes beside them and some vegetables, for a balanced meal.
Quin sort of... shrank back, sipping gingerly and face terribly red. Alastair had to say that didn't he. As it was he wanted nothing more then to hurry to his room and stay until Angus had eaten his fill.
"So. Hi," he said to Quin, not really knowing what else to say the nervous little man.
He cleared his throat. "H-hi." He managed not to sqweak too much, trying his best not to squirm. Ahh, he wanted to run. "Um... s-so... how long have you been.... um... head of... security?"
He decided that this size thing was definitely not working in his favor in the "friendly" department, and so looked for a place to sit down. "Eh, dunno. Over a decade now." Technically the truth, as he'd been in the position for 30 years now.
Alastair brought out the dishes, resting one in each hand and the third on his forearm, walking over to the table to set it down. "Round steak with onions in gravy, garlic and chive potatoes and some veggie things." He indicated as he set them down. He turned to Dara with a smirk. "If you don't like it i'll punch you."
"Meat, starch, and colored stuff. Looks good to me!" he declared, plunking down in front of a plate.
Quin wibbled, about to tell him he didn't have to sit on his account... but then maybe he really did want to sit. He shook his head and then sat down himself when Al set the plates out. Good... food was a very nice distraction and it would stop any nervous chatter.
Al returned to the kitchen to grab a few more beers and the container of apple juice for Quin and plunk them down on the table. "If you still want more- I have some in the kitchen for seconds. I eat alot.." Which was true.When you were the size of a house and built like a horse, you tended to eat alot of food to keep that motor running.
"Good. I haven't eaten all day. Damn work," he grumbled, digging into the potatoes.
"I-it's very good, as usual, Al." The red head smiled a little and pushed up his glasses. He chewed slowly on a bit of meat.
Alastair laughed gregariously. "Because I am the cooking master!" Before leaning over and opening his beer, taking a drink before setting it down. He waited for Angus to pause to breath from shoveling food into his face. "So, how's this stalker business going? Sure you dont need me to break some skulls?"
"It's going. Mostly a waiting game, really," he muttered, trying not to talk with his mouth full, though having difficulty with this as he was hungry.
Quin's eyes widened a little. "Stalkers...?" He looked between them. He really had to learn to keep up with goings on....
Alastair watched Dara's food dissapear. "God, don't you eat?"
"Not today, I didn't. Like I said before, 'Damn work.'"
"Um... I could go get you another plate..." Quin murmured, not feeling terribly hungry himself. He stood with his plate, planning to stick it in the fridge.
The head of security paused in mid-shovel, blinking slowly at Quin.
Alastair looked up at Quin for a moment as well. He spared a glance to Dara then back to Quin. Of course, Al didn't get that he was intimidated, he thought something else. "Um... I'm not cheating on you with him." He blinked, swearing up and down Quin was depressed because of something like that. Al could be dense sometimes.
This caused Dara to choke on his food. His fork clattered to his plate and he began coughing.
"What? No! I didn't... think... that..." He shook his head, face red. "N-nevermind...." With that he hurried off to hide, er... find tupperware for his food.
Dara would've watched the retreat had he not been busily dislodging a bit of steak from his throat.
Alastair blinked, looking perplexed as the smaller man ran off. "Wow, I swore that was it." He turned slowly to Dara. "Oh, crap- you ok? I know the heimlick."
He held up a hand in Al's general direction, and after another minute, the problem took care of itself. "Ugh..."
"Drink some more beer." He pushed the bottle closer before he grabbed is own and took a drink.
He was quite happy to help himself to the last of the beer in the bottle. "How about warning a guy before saying stuff like that while he's eating?"