shatterverse | (no subject)

A black Ford F-350 pickup truck moves along a narrow unpaved road towards the Cooper Farm. The exterior is a mess of cracked glass, dents, bullet holes, scratched paintwork and mud spatter, but it seems to be running smoothly. In the back, a more pristine-looking motorbike is held in place by bungee cords and a large pile of duffel bags, gas cans and other outdoor survival gear. There's also a tool box behind the cab, containing a sizable arsenal of guns, explosives and ammunition, and one very hi-tech bow. It's clear that this vehicle has been on the road for quite some time.

Jamie's at the wheel, keeping a sedate speed and tapping along lazily to a Steve Miller Band song. Eleanor is dozing in the passenger seat, feet up on the dashboard.

Since their arrival and subsequent alien encounter in Nebraska eight months ago, the two of them have conducted a fairly thorough tour of the United States: northerly parts in the fall and warmer climes during the winter. In that time, Jamie has learnt how to drive automatics and stick shifts, and Eleanor has figured out what his 'episodes' are, and how best to control them. They've roughed it at times, at others they've taken advantage of civilian abandonment, and there've been plenty of monsters, fights and adventures along the way. It was only a few days ago that Jamie accidentally tuned in to Barbara's automated radio transmission and discovered the existence of the Kansas safe-zone. They decided to check it out.

The truck hits a deep pothole as it enters the main yard of the farm. Eleanor's head thumps against the side window, jarring her awake.

"...Ow," she mumbles, eyes still closed. "Nice road. Are we there yet?"

[OOC: Two pups, two muns. Tag either or both.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Probably with pain," Eleanor chuckles. "If his singing voice is anything to go by, I'm guessing he's got two left feet."

She's a flirt too. To date, neither of them have voiced any concerns over the other's conduct. It all depends where the flirting goes, and so far it's never gone anywhere serious.

Jamie sighs.

"It's a wonder I have any confidence left at all," he says, "with the way you go on."

Ha.

"What can I say?" Eleanor replies, with a remorseless shrug. "I'm an excellent judge of character. If I didn't think you could take my shit..."

"Well, I'd still give it," she chuckles. "To toughen you up."

"Or I might've just kicked you to the curb."

"You two have definitely spent the last six months or so on the road together," Babs shakes her head in amusement. "You bicker like old pros."

"It comes of careful observation of my mother and sister throughout my youth," Jamie responds, like she's just handed him some sort of award for his performance. "I've perfected the technique."

He grins widely and sweeps them both a bow.

Laughing, Eleanor pops off the table and heads over to wrap her arm round Jamie's waist. He then gets a chaste kiss to the cheek for all his troubles.

"As for me," she says, "I think I just inherited the talent."

"My mother's worse than both of those two put together."

Babs shakes her head in amusement at their antics. "So other than the food, is there anything else I can get for you two? We've got a decent selection of tea around here, and for people who aren't crazy there's coffee."

Babs doesn't get tea.

Snaking an arm around Eleanor's shoulder, Jamie blinks down at her for a moment before answering. It's still strange to think she knows his family. Sort of, anyway.

"I'd love a cider." Beat. "Or an ale. Perhaps a good wine?"

The grin is back.

"Wine'd be nice," Eleanor admits. "Or some decent liquor."

"We've been living off rural gas stations and convenience stores most of the time. And even those places have been trashed and looted of the good stuff. It's been slim pickings."

Not that Barbara would know, but both of them have lost weight since they arrived. There've been more than a few beef jerky and cashew nut meals, and far too many foul tasting Red Bull-esque energy drinks to wash them down with when water was scarce.

"Well, I won't claim that we've got a lot of variety around here, but most of what we have we have plenty of." She waves her hand around the kitchen. "Make yourselves at home. And if you want a real bed to sleep in, we can probably manage that too."

"Goddess, I've almost forgotten what a bed is like," he jokes. "Thank you."

That's his cue to start looking through the cupboards. He's hungry.

After rolling her eyes at Jamie, Eleanor shows their host a warm smile.

"Yeah. We appreciate it, Barbara."

"We tend to make our bed times memorable whenever we find one," she explains. "Which is why he never remembers the bed itself."

Smirking now, she joins Jamie in his quest for sustenance. Her search starts in the freezer. Moments later, there's a happy squeal:

"Frozen bacon!"

And all is suddenly right with the world again.

"Lucky break for you," Babs laughs at Eleanor's enthusiasm. "Sokka must have missed that one." Both Sokkas.

"And you're welcome. And if you two decide you want to check out Metropolis, let me know. I've got people there who can set you up with somewhere to sleep and give you the lay of the land."