fifth_garde | (no subject)

[He'd drove all night, habitually remembering to drink from the cold flask of cheap coffee he'd picked up from a diner and even more habitually to chew on aspirin. He had to keep the pain in his arm at bay, occasionally it would spasm causing him to jerk the wheel to one side. His eyes were aching, and either that was because of the exhaustion or the emotions which were rattling around in his head, both of which weren't things he was able to take care of right then.

He'd eventually caved in and put on the radio, listening to some random popular music station so he wasn't left with just his own thoughts. He didn't exactly enjoy the music but it was better than utter silence, every now and again he'd press a wad of napkins against his temple, which had crusted over but wasn't entirely finished bleeding yet.

Finally reaching the town he'd left Owen in earlier that day, or actually the day before considering it was now five in the morning, he could've simply ran but he'd either end up running into a wall or phasing half way through one and winding up dead.

He parked the car in the same car park he'd left the BMW and transfers the chest from one trunk to the other, after all he'd rather ditch Al's car for the stolen motor, regardless of the convenience of having a car with actual insurance papers.

Finally he drags himself into the corridors of the hotel, it seeming deadly quiet for the fact it was so early, he vaguely remembers Owen's room number having only seen it once before and slumps against the doorframe, tapping lightly on it and hoping Owen would hear.]

Owen? 's me... I mean, Five, y'there?

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Y'probably should, it'd be terrible for you t'be made defenceless by your involuntary reactions.

I'm sure I can find some voluntary ones that have an effect on you.

[Though probably not ones he can pull in public.]

Hey, 'm all for the public indecency. 's you that won't stoop t'such lows.

Then maybe you should be the one stooping.

[He'll absolutely deny saying that later, of course.]

I wouldn't mine getting t'my knees for a guy like you.

[You cannot scare Five off with this, Owen!]

Y-You. Are. Not. Helping.

[This is grossly unfair; every time he tries to out-brazen him, Jason only ups the ante. He flashes his ticket at the attendant on board and makes his way over to their seats and stows his bag under the seat, trying not to look as flustered as he feels and failing miserably.]

I could be very helpful, if y'just ask.

[He throws his bag unceremoniously into the overhead locker, grinning and obviously watching while Owen leans down to get to the storage space under the seat.]

Edited 2011-08-11 19:18 (UTC)

Maybe when we're at thirty thousand feet.

[And now he's realising he's being watched.]

Good, 'm pretty sure you'll lose your patience for it soon enough.

Don't start.

Fine. I'll just sit here and we can spend the rest of our adventure in total silence. [Yawwwn.]

[Owen settles into his seat and immediately buckles his belt like a good boy.]

Are you pouting?

No. [He gives Owen the side eye.]

Would it work if I did?

Define 'work.'

[He's going to regret saying that, isn't he.]

Hm, be advantageous t'me?

[He pouts, tilting his head towards Owen from his chair.]

You've got enough advantages.

[Especially that pout. He can't even look...!]

Maybe I just need more, won't y'at least look at me.

[Continuing the pouty face while stretching over and stroking his hand along Owen's arm. This is his only in-flight entertainment.]