Tuesday. June 7, 2016
Cane arrived at the Teas ?n Tomes looking like he'd just rolled out of bed. Dirty blond hair was a tousled mess and his 5 o'clock shadow was more like 3 days strong. But that smile, though, it shone so brightly that his appearance played second string.
"Can I get a couple'a coffee's?" Low bass rumble for the girl behind the counter. In addition to the coffees, he received a handful of cookies that would have otherwise been thrown out by the end of the night. It's no wonder he chose to come here so often to flirt with the girl behind the counter.
Tucked away in the corner of a couch on the other side of the room, the songbird was spending reading time staring out a window as night fell with the pitch of black, smothering the sun from existence. She had her hand on a page, fingers splayed to mark it so, chin tucked against a shoulder. A pair of red All Stars--minus laces-- were resting beneath the coffee table. Her attention was lazy, as if awoken from slumber, a slow drag from glass reflection to the thrum rumble of bass.
Cane carried his fares with him to the seating area, sparing a look toward the door for just a moment, then focused the whole of his attention on the dark-haired bit of dreamer tucked up on the couch where he normally sat.
"Well hey there." The backwoods in him was slowly dying.
Aoife?s perch was lazy soft, lacking tension of the unknown. Her gaze slid to the door and then back with the beginning of a smile that was far from a ghost. "I was here. The books--" she pointed up and yonder to blame. "Did you know there is fruit that looks like stars when it's cut?"
Cane took up residence on the other side of the couch. Sal's coffee lay waiting for him on the squat table before him. He held his own (and the cookies) in his lap. One leg was drawn up onto the cushion with him. "Carambola. Aye. I ate quite a lot of it in India."
The book slid from her knees to the collection of sweater in her lap. She leaned forward with the give of space. "You've been to India?"
He smiled a little, then took a drink mid-nod. "Mm. Lived there fer a little over two years. My brother an' I traveled all over Europe an' Asia. I fell in love with a Sage."
Just then, Salvador came in. The damnable bell betrayed his arrival. There was no sneaking in for him tonight. He had on a pair of beat up, frayed and torn jeans. His usual boots with the laces removed. A long-sleeved baseball tee, gray with black sleeves, and a little big on him.
Aoife forgot the book in her lap and caught her knees with pale, little fingers. Smothered and covered as they were with the too long sleeves of her sweater, there was enough peeking to grip. Her head tipped to catch the wander of a lazy man. "Sage is an herb," she said to Canaan, blinking at him.
Peering over his shoulder, Cane smiled at Sal as he started their way. He locked eyes with the man for a few seconds -- hello -- and then turned back to Aoife. "He was jes' as fragrant. His name was Jahnu." The Cajun raised his cup for another drink meant to smother the acrid taste that man?s name left in his mouth just then. "Taught me a lot 'bout potions an' whatnot."
Her brows lifted a fraction, eyes doting on Salvador's approach and the cushion in the middle waiting for him. "Magic potions?"
Sal flared a few fingers to flag a hello to the songbird with a soft smile just for her. Then he slid sideways to park his butt on the armrest at Cane's end. He remained silent so as not to interrupt the conversation, and acclimate to what he walked in on.
The Cajun tipped his head until it came to rest against Salvador's chest. "He was a warlock. Like me. I was travelin' to distract myself from the lover who came before him, spent years learnin' anythin' an' everythin' I could about herbalism. I suppose I have him ta thank fer how much I know. About that, anyway."
One leg drawn up, Sal had turned to fit himself on that space and act as Cane's back and head rest. Elbow to the back of the couch, he locked himself in place and tipped his hand to toy a little with the Cajun's hair. Listening.
The Spaniard?s soft smile was mirrored on Aoife?s face, her attention smothering them both as Salvador settled in behind Canaan. "Why is he called a Sage??
"It's what you call someone wit' profound wisdom or knowledge,? Cane said. ?He was an expert in his field; intelligent an' clever. He'd learned a lot in all of his years on the earth. Hundreds. At least two or three -- he said he'd lost count. I don' blame him. I'm only at t'ree quarters of a century an' it's startin' ta blur."
She pressed a thumb's knuckle between her lips, another to the tip of her nose, and leaned into the back of the couch with a shoulder. Her expression was a mask to her thoughts. "Does he--still live there?"
Having nothing to add to the conversation, Sal decided to untie Cane's hair and work on giving him a manly braid.
Cane slipped a little further into a relaxed slouch as he felt Salvador's cool fingertips start combing through his messy hair. All the better to give him access, see. He made a quiet humming noise while contemplating Aoife's question. "I dunno fer sure. Last I saw 'im was in the Heathrow airport terminal beggin' me ta stay."
Behind the fist she'd pressed to her mouth, Aoife?s jaw worked a slow and minute grid. Two fingers flickered with the fray that stood upright from the rip over a knee. Eventually, she hummed an answer. She looked upward for Salvador. "Is Dama busy?" Spring time. Summer's winking. It was the time for growth.
Salvador smiled without looking up from his work on Cane's hair. "Of course she is."
With the abrupt end to the line of questioning, Cane thought it safe enough to focus on filling his mouth with some coffee-soaked cookies. It was like dunking them in milk! Only... not. It still tasted delicious.
The songbird blinked at Cane, stared at him the moment after. The cookie. The coffee. "May I come see her?" She asked Salvador.
"Any time you like." he answered.
"You should play her some music on the piano." Cane added, mouth full. He only remembered his manners half the time. "I think she likes it." He really wouldn't know. In all the time he'd been playing music for Dama, he'd only caught her peeking at him once. Just a glimpse, and that had been all.
"She likes it better when you sing." Sal knew.
"Does she?" That was news to him. The shock of it showed very plainly on his face; he even tried to tip his head back to look at Salvador with something of an incredulous expression.
Aoife smothered a smile behind her fingers. "Tomorrow."
Salvador's smile was probably a mirror to Aoife's, though much less hidden. "She does," he confirmed for Cane, tugging his hair to tip his head back the way it had been. Don't mess up his braid work, man! And then he nodded to confirm Aoife's appointment. "Tomorrow." He was fine with that.
Canaan had half a mind to keep his head back so Sal would keep pulling his hair, but he decided to be compliant in case the Spaniard retaliated by giving up before he'd finished. Another cookie found itself drowned in the coffee cup and consumed by the Cajun.
"Why'd ya wanna know if Jahnu was still livin' in India?"
Cane's question trapped a wandering thought, stole a smile right off Aoife?s face. She pulled in her lips, bit the insides, looked at her knees. "So if," she paused to tickle the fray of jean over her knees. "--he knows things. You said. Maybe one day I might have a question."
Sal paused to look over the crown of Cane's head at the songbird, brows raised. There was curiosity, but he did not press her with questions. After a moment, he looked back down and resumed his work.
A smile tugged at the corner of the Cajun?s lips. This time Cane swallowed what was in his mouth before responding. "I could... find out fer ya. He'd be able ta teach ya a lot."
Oh this, this piqued her forward with interest. His consent. Aoife?s lean was enough that she perch-teetered on the edge of a cushion, very well likely to spill onto another. "In India?"
At this point, Sal had finished his work on Cane's manly braid. Tied it off in a sloppy topknot in the back. Pulled his fingers across the side of the man's neck to silently tell him he was done, as if it wasn't already clear. Aoife's enthusiasm kept him smiling.
Cane held the coffee cup up to hide the way his smile tightened just a little. After a long sip, he'd battled his irrational thoughts into submission enough to give her an honest smile. "I don' know if he's still doin' that stuff, but maybe. Would'ja like me ta find him an' ask?"
Aoife started nodding before he'd finished. "Would you come?"
Salvador looked away and scratched behind his ear. Uncertain. Maybe somewhat uncomfortable with the notion.
As he could not judge the intent of a word, plural or not, Cane presumed the question had been meant for himself. It caught him off guard. His mouth fell open and the most eloquent thing that fell out was, "Uhhh..." He'd such a way with words. "God, it's been -- what? Nearly forty years since I've seen 'im. Uh. Assumin' it all works out, I... I could take ya. But I wouldn' wanna stay."
"And Salvador?" Be still beating hearts---Aoife elaborated. Mind those in the room, a crestfallen shadow passed over her features when he said he would not stay.
"Oh." Bad word went unsaid. Sal?s eyes widened somewhat. "Uh." Just as eloquent as the Cajun a moment ago. He rubbed the back of his neck. "I, uh..." Really didn't have any interest in meeting Cane's ex-boyfriend, Sage or not. "...never been to India." Might be interested in seeing it otherwise, though.
Cane didn't exactly have an interest in introducing the pair, either! He scratched his jaw and chuckled uncomfortably. "I guess, dependin' on how long ya stay... maybe Sal an' I could, ah, travel? Elsewhere? Or... some'n?" Head tilt, trying to gauge Salvador's interest without meeting his eyes.
Sal was definitely avoiding eye contact and only gave an exaggerated shrug. "Uh. Sure." Whatever they wanted to do, he was in. So long as he didn't have to meet Cane's ex-boyfriend.
"You don't have to,? Aoife said softly. The lean melted into a cushion sink. One of her feet spilled over the edge of the couch to dangle above the floor. "In the beginning...and the end. Just then."
If this was really going to happen, if she was truly going to be spending time under Jahnu's tutelage, Cane thought it best to keep the reason for their dissolved relationship under wraps unless asked directly. He didn't want to color her view on the guy before she had a chance to craft her own opinion. That meant swallowing his distaste for having to see him again. Could he do that?
"I can do that," he confirmed with a curt nod. "Drop off an' pick up."
Smiling softly again, Sal set his hand on Cane's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. Silent support. He'd probably drag the man off for city tours if he was tagging along. He nodded a few times, looking at some distant point across the room, at nothing in particular. Introspective. Probably trying to envision what a trip to India would be like. Daydreaming the possibilities.
There was a twitch of a smile when she looked at Salvador, shame he was avoiding all the things. Aoife?s stare fell to Cane, the smile waited. "Mmhm."
That smile of hers made the weight of everything else slough away, leaving him only with a sense of adventure and excitement for what could be. Aoife would learn so much, he knew that for a fact and traveling with Salvador was one of his most favorite things to do. This could be a good thing! Cane reached back for one of Sal's hands and pulled it down to hold against his chest.
Sal surrendered his hand easily, with a smile. Lost in so much thought. His imagination had very little to go by on what to expect. Adventure was definitely in his future! Another one spent with Cane, with Aoife along as an added bonus. This pleased Salvador.
Canaan's mood seemed to lighten, losing the shadow of tension; it had her settling, sliding, closing the book left forgotten in her lap. Aoife shifted to the edge of the couch, reaching in a stretch to set it on the table. There were shoes.... "Will you tell me when?"
"Yeah. Might take me a couple weeks ta track 'im down, but I'll see about findin' 'im an' settin' it all up." He finished his coffee and leaned forward to set the empty mug on the table, bringing Sal's now room temperature coffee with him as he sat back.
Sal switched which hand wound up back on Cane's chest when he returned from his lean so that he could take the mug with a quiet, "Thank you." Now was a good time to lean down and press a kiss on the corner of the other man's mouth, too. He'd neglected a hello kiss until now! For shame!
One and two shoes slipped onto her feet, the heels crushed inward by her own. Aoife stood like this, slightly disheveled, half put together, but all in one piece. Several tucks found her hair behind her ears and she was just above eye level of the pair.
"A Sage." She repeated the word, making it a memory. Goodness her smile when she sighed seconds later. India. "Thank you, Canaan." His gift settled in his lap when she eased closer to the end of the couch. "Tomorrow," for Salvador.
Straightening back up, Sal fixed Aoife with a direct smile and echoed her. "Tomorrow." A nod.
It wasn't fair. According to Cane, all women were witches; the way they could make a man's heart stop with just a smile. The clockwork thing in his chest had already begun to throb thanks to that kiss and now it was tripping and falling all over itself in the wake of Aoife?s smile. "Ain' no t'ing, cher."
Three nods from her and she was gone beneath the tinkle notes of a bell.
Cane arrived at the Teas ?n Tomes looking like he'd just rolled out of bed. Dirty blond hair was a tousled mess and his 5 o'clock shadow was more like 3 days strong. But that smile, though, it shone so brightly that his appearance played second string.
"Can I get a couple'a coffee's?" Low bass rumble for the girl behind the counter. In addition to the coffees, he received a handful of cookies that would have otherwise been thrown out by the end of the night. It's no wonder he chose to come here so often to flirt with the girl behind the counter.
Tucked away in the corner of a couch on the other side of the room, the songbird was spending reading time staring out a window as night fell with the pitch of black, smothering the sun from existence. She had her hand on a page, fingers splayed to mark it so, chin tucked against a shoulder. A pair of red All Stars--minus laces-- were resting beneath the coffee table. Her attention was lazy, as if awoken from slumber, a slow drag from glass reflection to the thrum rumble of bass.
Cane carried his fares with him to the seating area, sparing a look toward the door for just a moment, then focused the whole of his attention on the dark-haired bit of dreamer tucked up on the couch where he normally sat.
"Well hey there." The backwoods in him was slowly dying.
Aoife?s perch was lazy soft, lacking tension of the unknown. Her gaze slid to the door and then back with the beginning of a smile that was far from a ghost. "I was here. The books--" she pointed up and yonder to blame. "Did you know there is fruit that looks like stars when it's cut?"
Cane took up residence on the other side of the couch. Sal's coffee lay waiting for him on the squat table before him. He held his own (and the cookies) in his lap. One leg was drawn up onto the cushion with him. "Carambola. Aye. I ate quite a lot of it in India."
The book slid from her knees to the collection of sweater in her lap. She leaned forward with the give of space. "You've been to India?"
He smiled a little, then took a drink mid-nod. "Mm. Lived there fer a little over two years. My brother an' I traveled all over Europe an' Asia. I fell in love with a Sage."
Just then, Salvador came in. The damnable bell betrayed his arrival. There was no sneaking in for him tonight. He had on a pair of beat up, frayed and torn jeans. His usual boots with the laces removed. A long-sleeved baseball tee, gray with black sleeves, and a little big on him.
Aoife forgot the book in her lap and caught her knees with pale, little fingers. Smothered and covered as they were with the too long sleeves of her sweater, there was enough peeking to grip. Her head tipped to catch the wander of a lazy man. "Sage is an herb," she said to Canaan, blinking at him.
Peering over his shoulder, Cane smiled at Sal as he started their way. He locked eyes with the man for a few seconds -- hello -- and then turned back to Aoife. "He was jes' as fragrant. His name was Jahnu." The Cajun raised his cup for another drink meant to smother the acrid taste that man?s name left in his mouth just then. "Taught me a lot 'bout potions an' whatnot."
Her brows lifted a fraction, eyes doting on Salvador's approach and the cushion in the middle waiting for him. "Magic potions?"
Sal flared a few fingers to flag a hello to the songbird with a soft smile just for her. Then he slid sideways to park his butt on the armrest at Cane's end. He remained silent so as not to interrupt the conversation, and acclimate to what he walked in on.
The Cajun tipped his head until it came to rest against Salvador's chest. "He was a warlock. Like me. I was travelin' to distract myself from the lover who came before him, spent years learnin' anythin' an' everythin' I could about herbalism. I suppose I have him ta thank fer how much I know. About that, anyway."
One leg drawn up, Sal had turned to fit himself on that space and act as Cane's back and head rest. Elbow to the back of the couch, he locked himself in place and tipped his hand to toy a little with the Cajun's hair. Listening.
The Spaniard?s soft smile was mirrored on Aoife?s face, her attention smothering them both as Salvador settled in behind Canaan. "Why is he called a Sage??
"It's what you call someone wit' profound wisdom or knowledge,? Cane said. ?He was an expert in his field; intelligent an' clever. He'd learned a lot in all of his years on the earth. Hundreds. At least two or three -- he said he'd lost count. I don' blame him. I'm only at t'ree quarters of a century an' it's startin' ta blur."
She pressed a thumb's knuckle between her lips, another to the tip of her nose, and leaned into the back of the couch with a shoulder. Her expression was a mask to her thoughts. "Does he--still live there?"
Having nothing to add to the conversation, Sal decided to untie Cane's hair and work on giving him a manly braid.
Cane slipped a little further into a relaxed slouch as he felt Salvador's cool fingertips start combing through his messy hair. All the better to give him access, see. He made a quiet humming noise while contemplating Aoife's question. "I dunno fer sure. Last I saw 'im was in the Heathrow airport terminal beggin' me ta stay."
Behind the fist she'd pressed to her mouth, Aoife?s jaw worked a slow and minute grid. Two fingers flickered with the fray that stood upright from the rip over a knee. Eventually, she hummed an answer. She looked upward for Salvador. "Is Dama busy?" Spring time. Summer's winking. It was the time for growth.
Salvador smiled without looking up from his work on Cane's hair. "Of course she is."
With the abrupt end to the line of questioning, Cane thought it safe enough to focus on filling his mouth with some coffee-soaked cookies. It was like dunking them in milk! Only... not. It still tasted delicious.
The songbird blinked at Cane, stared at him the moment after. The cookie. The coffee. "May I come see her?" She asked Salvador.
"Any time you like." he answered.
"You should play her some music on the piano." Cane added, mouth full. He only remembered his manners half the time. "I think she likes it." He really wouldn't know. In all the time he'd been playing music for Dama, he'd only caught her peeking at him once. Just a glimpse, and that had been all.
"She likes it better when you sing." Sal knew.
"Does she?" That was news to him. The shock of it showed very plainly on his face; he even tried to tip his head back to look at Salvador with something of an incredulous expression.
Aoife smothered a smile behind her fingers. "Tomorrow."
Salvador's smile was probably a mirror to Aoife's, though much less hidden. "She does," he confirmed for Cane, tugging his hair to tip his head back the way it had been. Don't mess up his braid work, man! And then he nodded to confirm Aoife's appointment. "Tomorrow." He was fine with that.
Canaan had half a mind to keep his head back so Sal would keep pulling his hair, but he decided to be compliant in case the Spaniard retaliated by giving up before he'd finished. Another cookie found itself drowned in the coffee cup and consumed by the Cajun.
"Why'd ya wanna know if Jahnu was still livin' in India?"
Cane's question trapped a wandering thought, stole a smile right off Aoife?s face. She pulled in her lips, bit the insides, looked at her knees. "So if," she paused to tickle the fray of jean over her knees. "--he knows things. You said. Maybe one day I might have a question."
Sal paused to look over the crown of Cane's head at the songbird, brows raised. There was curiosity, but he did not press her with questions. After a moment, he looked back down and resumed his work.
A smile tugged at the corner of the Cajun?s lips. This time Cane swallowed what was in his mouth before responding. "I could... find out fer ya. He'd be able ta teach ya a lot."
Oh this, this piqued her forward with interest. His consent. Aoife?s lean was enough that she perch-teetered on the edge of a cushion, very well likely to spill onto another. "In India?"
At this point, Sal had finished his work on Cane's manly braid. Tied it off in a sloppy topknot in the back. Pulled his fingers across the side of the man's neck to silently tell him he was done, as if it wasn't already clear. Aoife's enthusiasm kept him smiling.
Cane held the coffee cup up to hide the way his smile tightened just a little. After a long sip, he'd battled his irrational thoughts into submission enough to give her an honest smile. "I don' know if he's still doin' that stuff, but maybe. Would'ja like me ta find him an' ask?"
Aoife started nodding before he'd finished. "Would you come?"
Salvador looked away and scratched behind his ear. Uncertain. Maybe somewhat uncomfortable with the notion.
As he could not judge the intent of a word, plural or not, Cane presumed the question had been meant for himself. It caught him off guard. His mouth fell open and the most eloquent thing that fell out was, "Uhhh..." He'd such a way with words. "God, it's been -- what? Nearly forty years since I've seen 'im. Uh. Assumin' it all works out, I... I could take ya. But I wouldn' wanna stay."
"And Salvador?" Be still beating hearts---Aoife elaborated. Mind those in the room, a crestfallen shadow passed over her features when he said he would not stay.
"Oh." Bad word went unsaid. Sal?s eyes widened somewhat. "Uh." Just as eloquent as the Cajun a moment ago. He rubbed the back of his neck. "I, uh..." Really didn't have any interest in meeting Cane's ex-boyfriend, Sage or not. "...never been to India." Might be interested in seeing it otherwise, though.
Cane didn't exactly have an interest in introducing the pair, either! He scratched his jaw and chuckled uncomfortably. "I guess, dependin' on how long ya stay... maybe Sal an' I could, ah, travel? Elsewhere? Or... some'n?" Head tilt, trying to gauge Salvador's interest without meeting his eyes.
Sal was definitely avoiding eye contact and only gave an exaggerated shrug. "Uh. Sure." Whatever they wanted to do, he was in. So long as he didn't have to meet Cane's ex-boyfriend.
"You don't have to,? Aoife said softly. The lean melted into a cushion sink. One of her feet spilled over the edge of the couch to dangle above the floor. "In the beginning...and the end. Just then."
If this was really going to happen, if she was truly going to be spending time under Jahnu's tutelage, Cane thought it best to keep the reason for their dissolved relationship under wraps unless asked directly. He didn't want to color her view on the guy before she had a chance to craft her own opinion. That meant swallowing his distaste for having to see him again. Could he do that?
"I can do that," he confirmed with a curt nod. "Drop off an' pick up."
Smiling softly again, Sal set his hand on Cane's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. Silent support. He'd probably drag the man off for city tours if he was tagging along. He nodded a few times, looking at some distant point across the room, at nothing in particular. Introspective. Probably trying to envision what a trip to India would be like. Daydreaming the possibilities.
There was a twitch of a smile when she looked at Salvador, shame he was avoiding all the things. Aoife?s stare fell to Cane, the smile waited. "Mmhm."
That smile of hers made the weight of everything else slough away, leaving him only with a sense of adventure and excitement for what could be. Aoife would learn so much, he knew that for a fact and traveling with Salvador was one of his most favorite things to do. This could be a good thing! Cane reached back for one of Sal's hands and pulled it down to hold against his chest.
Sal surrendered his hand easily, with a smile. Lost in so much thought. His imagination had very little to go by on what to expect. Adventure was definitely in his future! Another one spent with Cane, with Aoife along as an added bonus. This pleased Salvador.
Canaan's mood seemed to lighten, losing the shadow of tension; it had her settling, sliding, closing the book left forgotten in her lap. Aoife shifted to the edge of the couch, reaching in a stretch to set it on the table. There were shoes.... "Will you tell me when?"
"Yeah. Might take me a couple weeks ta track 'im down, but I'll see about findin' 'im an' settin' it all up." He finished his coffee and leaned forward to set the empty mug on the table, bringing Sal's now room temperature coffee with him as he sat back.
Sal switched which hand wound up back on Cane's chest when he returned from his lean so that he could take the mug with a quiet, "Thank you." Now was a good time to lean down and press a kiss on the corner of the other man's mouth, too. He'd neglected a hello kiss until now! For shame!
One and two shoes slipped onto her feet, the heels crushed inward by her own. Aoife stood like this, slightly disheveled, half put together, but all in one piece. Several tucks found her hair behind her ears and she was just above eye level of the pair.
"A Sage." She repeated the word, making it a memory. Goodness her smile when she sighed seconds later. India. "Thank you, Canaan." His gift settled in his lap when she eased closer to the end of the couch. "Tomorrow," for Salvador.
Straightening back up, Sal fixed Aoife with a direct smile and echoed her. "Tomorrow." A nod.
It wasn't fair. According to Cane, all women were witches; the way they could make a man's heart stop with just a smile. The clockwork thing in his chest had already begun to throb thanks to that kiss and now it was tripping and falling all over itself in the wake of Aoife?s smile. "Ain' no t'ing, cher."
Three nods from her and she was gone beneath the tinkle notes of a bell.