(no subject)

[no-npc-here.livejournal.com]

Date: January 9, 2001
Setting: Tadfield Manor, chapel
Status: Private - John and Kit (complete)
Summary: We need to talk...



It'd had been one of the last stops on their tour, and perhaps it had been a coincidence, but she suspected John had realized just how much the place would appeal to her.

It'd been a while since she'd been in a church, but the solemn faces of saints and angels etched in bright stained glass took her right back to mass when she was young: crowded into a pew, she and her sisters in dresses with far too much lace for her taste, while her mother reprimanded Peter for tugging at his tie. Maybe it was the rarity of such occasions - the stark memories of not knowing when to sit or stand, of not understanding the sermons delivered with such certainty - that made them stand out, but Kit couldn't deny the unique sense of peace she'd always found within these walls, looking up at these faces.

It helped that, to an artist's eye, every shade, every angle of this place was laid out perfectly, with such startling stillness that entering the chapel felt like walking into a photograph. She'd had every intention of trying to capture some of the surreal feeling of the place, and had even brought her sketch pad. But instead, she found herself simply sitting there, near the front, contemplating the elaborate adornments of the altar in this gorgeous place.

Comments

[no-npc-here.livejournal.com]

Kit was no more familiar with the way things now stood between them, but she was pleased that John had agreed, and smiled. "I reckon," she said carefully, "that you could start with buying me a drink at the bar."

[dangeroushabits.livejournal.com]

John chuckled. "Isn't that how we got into this mess?" He reached up to take and squeeze her hand, fumbling the unaccustomed gesture a little. They'd never held hands much when they were together, but that was what made it feel like a relatively safe way to bridge the distance between them now. "I hope you're not thinking you can still drink me under the table. I've had loads of practice since I got here."

[no-npc-here.livejournal.com]

"Oh, aye?" she asked, a teasing slant to her smile saying that she'd plainly need proof before she'd believe that John could out-drink her.

The hand holding was something she could never really remember having done before; perhaps something to be attributed to John the Not-So-Much-A-Bastard. But she couldn't help but wonder what it meant for them when the fights came back so easily, while the simpler, platonic moments took some adjustment.

She stood then, crossing the bench once more to retrieve her sketch pad. "You coming?" she asked, shooting John another grin and nodding toward the door. "Or are these new found drinkin' skills more the hypothetical sort?"

[dangeroushabits.livejournal.com]

"I don't do hypothetical, woman," John mock-growled, rising and following her out the door. He paused to close it quietly behind him rather than letting it fall shut, so they weren't cut off abruptly from the solemn tranquility of the place as they departed.