locks_it_up: (Default)
[personal profile] locks_it_up
It has been some space of time since he found his Tower, and breached it, and fell into her arms.

In that time, he has walked with her, stayed with her as a guest before she walks him on to the clearing.

Today? They are at Disneyland.

They are sitting at a table in the Blue Bayou, as boats splash on in the distance to meet robot pirates, and recorded crickets chirp and fireflies flicker, and Chinese lanterns bob over their heads. In the distance, there is a banjo playing, picked at slow and mournful. She's sipping on a mint julep and grinning widely.

Date: 2005-11-29 08:50 pm (UTC)
lastgunslinger: (also known as the mad dog of gilead)
From: [personal profile] lastgunslinger
Roland has managed to calm his expression from something along the lines of 'incredulous' wedded to 'confused'. Now he's taking it all in. In front of him there's coffee, with Jack Daniels in it -- he's learned that it's called a gunshot, that drink.

Roland approves.

His eyes are on a family at an adjacent table. "I still don't understand this place, lady. I don't think I ever will."

Date: 2005-11-29 08:53 pm (UTC)
lastgunslinger: (also known as the mad dog of gilead)
From: [personal profile] lastgunslinger
"You can't smoke in here." Roland jerks his head to a sign by the maitre d's stand.

Date: 2005-11-29 09:02 pm (UTC)
lastgunslinger: (the ka-mais win)
From: [personal profile] lastgunslinger
Roland looks around.

Looks at her.

And smiles, a little.

"Do you say so?"

He's fingering the strings of the pouch that holds his papers and tobacco.

Date: 2005-11-29 09:12 pm (UTC)
lastgunslinger: (the ka-mais win)
From: [personal profile] lastgunslinger
He likes watching her work. It's clean. No frills. Just -- do the job. Finish the job. And then...wings.

Whenever he hears the wings -- a brief echo -- he smiles.

Roland smiles a lot, now.

She works, and so does he; death hasn't taken his ability to roll a good cigarette.

Match popped alight on a thumbnail.

Funny how serene you feel when the only thing that's to be done is roll a cigarette and drink your coffee.

And know, of course, that it is good.

Date: 2005-11-29 09:39 pm (UTC)
lastgunslinger: (my love is like a red red rose)
From: [personal profile] lastgunslinger
His hand turns -- his left hand -- and catches hers, in a practiced and comfortable movement. "I can't think for what."

Which is Roland-speak for it doesn't matter.

Date: 2005-11-29 09:51 pm (UTC)
lastgunslinger: (the vacuum of his eyes)
From: [personal profile] lastgunslinger
He can.

Quietly, Roland says, "Has no one else ever wished to stay a while longer, with you?"

It's the last two words that make it.

And there's no jealousy. Just curiosity. And a little concern.

Date: 2005-11-29 09:59 pm (UTC)
lastgunslinger: (gunslinger)
From: [personal profile] lastgunslinger
His head tilts back, and he exhales, long and slow and easy.

The smoke floats out to join the fake fog on the faker bayou.

"Can't imagine why."

Roland's eyes are half-closed. His mouth curves in a half-smile.

Date: 2005-11-29 10:10 pm (UTC)
lastgunslinger: (not joe nope no way)
From: [personal profile] lastgunslinger
One blue eye opens.

Lazily, almost.

"I thought that was why you kept me around."

Date: 2005-11-29 10:19 pm (UTC)
lastgunslinger: (milliways sets all to rights)
From: [personal profile] lastgunslinger
Roland laughs quietly, and sits up, and taps into the edge of his saucer. "Good to know."

His coffee is cooling; he drinks some of it.

His eyes light on a man with sandy-red hair at a nearby table, sitting with a man wearing a brown leather jacket.

"Shame I slept through Wash's visit."

Roland slept a lot. Still does, every now and again. Because it had been a damned long time since he could get a good night's rest in a safe place.

"...I don't suppose you've stopped anywhere they've been?"

Date: 2005-11-29 10:35 pm (UTC)
lastgunslinger: (you going to leave me again frankie?)
From: [personal profile] lastgunslinger
He's not watching her.

Off in the crowd, making her way towards the exit, there's a young, slim girl of about eighteen with long, dark hair. It's just a little tangled.

Roland can't see her face.

Without taking his eyes from the girl:

"And River?"

Date: 2005-11-29 10:47 pm (UTC)
lastgunslinger: (the vacuum of his eyes)
From: [personal profile] lastgunslinger
Roland picks up his coffee and stares into it before downing the rest. There's not much left.

Before he replaces cup in saucer, he puts out his cigarette.

Clink.

And a soft sigh.

"I knew you would, my dear."

When he looks up, his eyes -- and are they just a little less faded? a little more warm? -- meet hers.

"You know I've been thinking of her." The words are just a little pleading, as though for understanding. He's thought of River, yes -- often -- but said nothing.

It's been an interesting adjustment. Tower, and Tower, and Tower --

-- and then, at last, the end. And then...nothing more to quest for.

She's done well with not leaving him alone to his thoughts. Done very well indeed.

But even She of the Endless can't stop all thought. Not when he's still here with her, between the path and the clearing.

It's another -- better -- waystation. And unlike Milliways, Roland can wait to find out what's coming next.

It's only a problem when he has time to think about what was.

Date: 2005-11-29 11:06 pm (UTC)
lastgunslinger: (light on his face)
From: [personal profile] lastgunslinger
"Never thought I wouldn't be."

He's missing it. And -- it hurts.

"Cort's behaving himself?"

Date: 2005-11-29 11:11 pm (UTC)
lastgunslinger: (gunslinger closeup)
From: [personal profile] lastgunslinger
Wry, but with no real feeling: "That's something."

He looks at her.

"Lady -- I knew it wouldn't anger you, if I asked about her. Knew that I had every reason in all the worlds to want to do so. And yet -- I did not." A bare, humorless smile. "It is strange."

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