deep in December, it's nice to remember

[pacificator]

Who: Wynonna Earp, Benton Fraser (& others)

What: embracing the holiday spirit and other December things

When: December

Where: Milton & Lakeside

 

without a hurt the heart is hollow

 

Comments

[lieutenantsteward]

[He answers with his face in the pillow. He wouldn't dare steal the blanket.

...until she was fast asleep and he wouldn't get a possible elbow to the nose.]

It is your face. Who is talking about your countenance?

[pacificator]

[ She frowns at the wall she can see past him. ]

So having a radiant one is good?

[ Something squiggles weirdly in her stomach, but before she can think too much about it, he's asking that and any decent lie dissolves into static in her head. ]

I, uh. Read it.

[ Maybe he hasn't noticed she hasn't picked up a book the whole time she's been here— ]

Somewhere.

[lieutenantsteward]

[He pushes himself up and looks over to her.]

It was not Captain Fitzjames, was it?

[Sober Thomas would have figured it out with the first guess, but drunk Thomas is thinking of Fitzjames' stupidly handsome face and wondering how much he'd shock the other man if he threatened him for trying to woo Wynonna.]

[pacificator]

What? No.

[ Her face scrunches up into bemused negation. Pfft. ]

Although, I mean, he's got a pretty nice face. Uh, countenance.

[ For a second she sees a path where she might be able to shift the conversation, distract Jopson from his current line of questioning. He's drunk, she might be able to do it.

In the end she lets go of him and lies back, head sinking into the pillow, and runs a hand over what is definitely not right now a countenance as 'radiant as the morning sun.' ]

It was Little.

[lieutenantsteward]

[Thomas wrinkles his nose instead. She hasn't had to listen through his terrible stories a thousand times before. Crozier might have been able to muffle the words with liquor, but Thomas had to remain present and sober every single time.

It is nice to have uncharitable thoughts now, though. With Fitzjames here and alive, it seems right that Thomas can taunt him about it in good faith.

...then she mentions Little and he snorts.]

He told you that?

[pacificator]

Yeah.

[ Her brows pucker, and she lolls her head to frown over at him. ]

Why, is that weird?

[lieutenantsteward]

No.

[He turns his head towards her, though half-muffled still.]

He fancies you.

[pacificator]

[ It's her turn to snort, rolling her eyes back up to the ceiling. ]

Please.

[ They've been over this— ]

It was at the party, everybody was all dressed up. He was probably just being nice. Isn't that the kind of thing you guys are supposed to say to women you know?

[lieutenantsteward]

Think what you wish, Miss Earp, but Edward is not the sort of man who resorts to flattery to get his way.

[He pushes himself up.]

I have never complimented your countenance.

[pacificator]

Yeah, and why not? I have a great face. 'Radiant as the morning sun;' that's a direct quote.

[ It's easier to complain, looking up at him, than it is to think he might be right. She scoffs slightly at the idea that Little has ever tried to get his way in anything, or with even a hint of manipulation. ]

I don't know. He said a few things like that.

And he asked me to dance.

[ Which, okay, even she knows that's a big one for him. He'd told her himself he hadn't danced with anybody before. But what exactly is she supposed to think about it? ]

[lieutenantsteward]

You are not making a very good case of it. [He turns over and stares up at the ceiling.]

In fact, you are proving my point rather well.

[pacificator]

[ She opens her mouth to argue, but snaps it closed again as another memory flickers: Edward, giving her that small, sad smile as the invisible walls between them built back up. A man would be fortunate to be so close with you, Miss Earp.

Her whole face crumples like she'd just slammed her elbow into a corner, and she covers her eyes with her palm with a groan, annoyed and embarrassed and horrified all at once. ]

Oh, god.

[lieutenantsteward]

[He looks over so quickly that he gets a little dizzy.]

Wynonna? What - what did I say?

[pacificator]

[ She rubs both hands over her face as that whole night plays itself out again in her head, this time from just a slightly different angle. ]

I think you might be right.

[lieutenantsteward]

[He moves closer to her.]

And what are your thoughts on the matter?

[pacificator]

[ She lifts her hands from her face and rolls her head to look over at him, mouth pressed into a wry line. ]

That it doesn't matter, because I managed to fuck it up in record time anyway. He couldn't wait to get away.

[lieutenantsteward]

[Thomas raises up on his elbow.]

And what, exactly, do you feel you - fucked up? Edward is keen to leave most situations he feels uncomfortable, and Edward feels uncomfortable in most situations.

[pacificator]

Aw, you said 'fuck.' Proud of you.

[ She makes a loose fist and lazily chucks his shoulder with it, then lets her hand and arm flop to the bedspread. ]

I don't know! I thought we were having a nice time. We were dancing, and talking, and all of a sudden he got weird as hell and said something about not wanting to take up any more of my time.

[lieutenantsteward]

[He groans.]

It is a word that I use, Wynonna.

Though it seems the Doctor doesn't feel the same way about certain threats you made. [He grins, but he doesn't delve into it. He's still trying to reassure her.]

Without assuming Edward's thoughts as my own, if I tell you plainly that it is not a fault of you but a fault of him - would that alleviate your anxieties?

[pacificator]

[ She flips a hand, blithe, waving any thought of worrying about the Doctor right now away. ]

The Doctor and I have an understanding.

[ Eh... enough of one, anyway. She glances at Thomas at his question, then looks back at the ceiling, folding her hands on her stomach, and doesn't answer. ]

It's fine. It's better this way. Really.

[ A quick flicker of a glance at him, sidelong, before she looks up once more. ]

But it was really nice, for a little while.

[lieutenantsteward]

It is not better this way.

You deserve more than that, Wynonna. You are - too good to not.

[pacificator]

[ She snorts, skeptical. ]

If we're talking about what I deserve, then right now I should be in Puerto Vallarta partying with half a dozen impressionable, scantily clad twenty-somethings. Or Jason Momoa.

[ She waves a loose hand just after that. ]

Don't worry about it. I can't explain Jason Momoa to you in any way that'll make sense.

[ All of which is easier to think about than what she might deserve, aside from an eternity hanging out with the same revs she sent down under, or how it felt when Edward spread his hand gently over her back. ]

Fine. You're right.

It sucks.

[lieutenantsteward]

[He desperately wants to know about Jason Momoa now. That's a conversation for later.]

It does - suck.

But the truth is always better than ignorance.

[pacificator]

I don't know about that. There are plenty of things I wish I didn't know after I found out about them.

[ Is this one of them? Maybe. She can't see how it improves anything. ]

Don't worry about it, Tommy. You know me: I'm always fine.

[ It comes out before she remembers saying the same thing to Little, months ago. You always survive, but you aren't fine, he'd told her.

She should never have let herself get this close. Another mistake in a lifetime full of them. ]

[lieutenantsteward]

[Thomas groans.]

You are not 'fine,' Wynonna. You are alive and you are here and you are breathing and you have friends, but you are not fine. You don't need to be fine. I have everything I have ever wanted, but I am not fine. So do not lie to yourself and do not lie to me.