ikissdhimbck | OOM: Outside, Stables -- For Tommy Gavin

During the course of the course of the past half hour or so, Kate may or may not have heard the following one-sided conversation drifting out of one particular stall:

"Hey. What're you-- okay, quit that. ...Did you hear what I just said? Leave my hair-- stoppit. ...Look, you keep doin' that, I ain't gonna give you more oats. Yeah, yeah, you want more? Then stop-- ow, that was my ear, pal! Son of a--! Okay, not with the tongue--"

But other than that, everything goes pretty smoothly during Tommy's impromptu turn as a stablehand. After he's done with the last couple of animals, he grabs his sunglasses from his jacket pocket and wanders outside, approaching Kate where she's waiting with the horses.

"Yeah, that pinto? I had a girlfriend in high school who was kinda like him. A nibbler. I think he even tried to give me a hickey." A wet patch on the back of his t-shirt collar makes him roll his shoulders in a squirm. He's sure the sun will dry it out but it still feels like yuck.

Kate eyes him over, letting the look on her face be comment enough on his latest hairdo. If he was hoping she'd stop laughing at him any time soon, now ain't gonna be his moment.

"I did warn you."

The staff and owners of Milliways stables are not responsible for any lost or stolen goods, accidents, injuries, or hickeys sustained while on the premises.

"'Least y'seem like a man of the world. I'm sure y'can let 'im down easy."

Her cat-who-ate-the-canary grin is joined in short order by Duncan, who cranes his head around to fix Tommy with a deep brown eye that seems to say, 'you ninny.'

"He wasn't my type anyways," he mutters good-naturedly as he scrubs his fingers through his hair a couple of times until it falls back into its usual flop and not like it's been licked by a giant dog.

It's then that he notices Duncan eyeballing him, and Tommy gives him the eyeball right back.

"Oh, and what's that look supposed to mean, huh? I thought we were friends. Seriously, the pinto puts the moves on me once and suddenly I'm the talk of the stables, is that it? Pff! Unbelievable."

He turns to Kate, suddenly (desperately, pleadingly) serious. "By the way, this whole pinto thing goes no further than these fences."

An ear twitches, followed by a snort, and Duncan swivels away once more. Greener pastures, Tommy.

"Oh, no, I understand."

Kate's blue eyes are filled with sincerity. She taps the end of her nose conspiratorially.

"Wouldn't wanna make anyone jealous."

Looks like another rung on the ladder to full-fledged cowboyhood is enduring lewd jokes about the relationship between a man and his horse. Really, then, it's a compliment, Tommy.

Nothing quite like getting the brush-off from a horse.

Kate, however, gets a stiff nod and a sarcastic grin. "Jealous. Right. That's exactly it."

Oh, this is gonna be fun.

He comes up beside Duncan (and tries to win him back) with a few well-meaning pats on the neck and a scratch on the cheek just under the bridle strap.

"Alright, so. Before I get on, how do I-- y'know-- drive? Y'know what I mean. If you lay out the basic mechanics first, the less likely I'll look like an idiot. Well. At least not any more of an idiot than I've already made myself out to be, but whatever," he adds with a self-effacing smirk.

Lucky for him, Duncan's pretty easy to win back. A little attention and another apple or two, and Tommy will be his best friend.

"You've done no such thing."

She chuckles quietly, coming over to his side. He's actually been a real help this morning; she'll see to it that a little something's taken off his tab after this, if she can't offer to buy him a meal for all his hard work.

"First, y'learn your tack. And — y'don't drive, you ride. A horse isn't the same as an automobile. Y'work together. Y'try an' take too much control, an' he'll resist you. He knows what he's doin'."

When it comes to riding lessons, Kate's hands-on. Getting a real feel for what you're doing is important, so she's not shy about putting the reins in his hands, moving him to demonstrate how to hold on, mount up; a hand at the small of his back to fix his posture, a tap to the right leg so he doesn't end up facing the horse's ass when it's time to swing up.

"Y'keep a light hand on the reins; he'll respond to the smallest pressure, so y'don't need t'go yankin' him this way an' that. D'you understand how t'get up?"

Her lips twitch.

"Want me t'find you a stool?"

Tommy's short attention span is tested once she really gets hands-on with her instructions, but he manages to retain and process all the important parts. He hasn't done this much straightforward do-this-don't-do-that learning in a while, though you don't usually have to tell him twice how to do something.

"A stool," he mutters, shaking his head and smirking.

--Okay, wait, what do I do now? Oh, yeah.

One foot in the stirrup, he hoists himself up into the saddle in one go, giving himself extra momentum so his leg doesn't come up short. Climbing up and sitting on something high isn't new to him -- climbing up and sitting on something high and alive is. And nothing this wide before, either.

"Jeezus..." He adjusts his position in the saddle, wincing a bit. "Next time I plan on riding a horse, I'll wear looser pants."

She grimaces sympathetically. Since Cubefall, that's a discomfort she actually understands.

"Take a moment t'get used t'the feel of things up there."

Duncan's a veteran when it comes to beginners. He doesn't move overmuch while Tommy climbs up and gets settled; it'll feel reminiscent of being on a ferry, and just as one needs to find their sea legs, finding your center of balance while riding makes it all a heck of a lot more comfortable.

"Try not t'rely on the saddle horn. When he starts movin', you're gonna feel inclined t'overcompensate for balance. Try not t'do that either. Jus' relax, an' stay straight in the saddle."

She checks his stirrups, making small adjustments where needed, and pats his leg. He should be good to go.

"How's it feel?"

He releases his near-death grip on the saddle horn the instant Kate says not to rely on it, but he'll just let it rest there. It takes a moment for him to adjust his core balance while in a sitting position, as he's more used to doing that sort of thing on his feet on a pair of ice skates. Actually, it's almost like trying to stay upright on a barstool while drunk. Oh, he can totally do this!

After she lengthens the stirrups a notch or two to accommodate his longer legs, it doesn't feel so awkward or uncomfortable (except for the crotch thing, but he'll assume he'll lose all sensation down there after about five more minutes anyway), and he doesn't feel as if he's going to randomly tip over.

"What, the leg pats? Fine. --Just kidding. Everything's good." He gives her a crooked grin.

Her expression flattens.

Amusement is still dancing in her eyes, however.

"Good. Y'let me know if that changes."

She hands over the reins, a smile hinting at sultry tugging at the corner of her mouth. She coos something sweet at Duncan as she moves past, but it's pitched too low to overhear.

"Duncan knows the trail like the back of his hoof. He'll likely follow Rachat's lead, an' you won't hafta do much but enjoy the ride. Jus' remember it don't take a lot of pressure with your heel t'get him movin'. The harder y'kick, the faster he'll go."

She hauls herself into the saddle with the fluid grace of a woman who's done this hundreds of thousands of times. She brings Rachat around with a quick step. They're an extension of each other now, and she radiates confidence.

"Ready?"

She grins, eager and sharp.

~~I'm on a HORSE~~

As far as Tommy's concerned, there will be no kicks on this ride, and he pats Duncan on the side of his neck with the silent wish, Please don't dump my ass on the ground. With the reins in his hands, there's nothing left to do but go for it.

"Yep, ready as I'll ever-- wait. Okay, one thing: how do I-- uh, brake?"

He can't help the car terminology.

She demonstrates.

"Ease back on your reins like this. An' make sure you ain't squeezin' his sides."

She murmurs a 'whoa' to Rachat, who helps with the demonstration.

Duncan starts to shift uneasily, ready to get going already.

Tommy nods as she makes it look almost too easy.

"'Kay, got it. Totally ready now." He gestures for her to proceed. "Ladies first."

Duncan's restlessness may be seeping through because Tommy is genuinely excited to start on their way.

She settles her hat on her head, tugging the brim down until it almost obscures her eyes. She flashes him a smile.

"Whatever you say, partner. Real easy, now..."

She sets her heels to Rachat's side and clucks her tongue. The dapple grey sets off at an easy walk, meandering to one side of the lane. To Kate's credit, she doesn't look over her shoulder right away to check up on Tommy.

Tommy replies with a smile of his own that falters into a slight grimace as soon as she passes.

"Alright," he mutters under his breath, "time to take this guy outta park..."

Grasping the reins firmly but making sure he's not pulling on them, he lightly taps Duncan's sides with his heels -- or at least, what he thinks is lightly, because Duncan starts off a little more abruptly than Tommy expects.

"Jeez!" The exclamation comes out louder than he intends. "I'm okay!" he calls out quickly, before Duncan catches up to Rachat and strolls up alongside him.

He's got this. He's totally got this.

So long as she's not hearing any loud thuds she keeps her eyes forward, biting her lip so as not to laugh. She listens closely to Duncan's hoofbeats, cutting her eyes to horse and rider once they catch up.

She's as solemn as a nun.

If that nun worked a burlesque peep show.

"Howdy," she says cheerfully. "Glad y'could make it."

The path they're on will take them around the back paddocks, along the treeline and over to the lake.

"How're y'doin'?"

His teeth are still set and he's still staring straight ahead between the horse's ears, but at least he's upright.

"Uhh...good! I think. Yeah. Yeah, I'm good."

Shifting a bit in the saddle, he tries to allow his limbs to loosen up and naturally go along with the horse's movements.

"How're you?" He glances at her, the corner of his mouth pulled back in a lopsided smile.

Don't be nervous, Tommy.

"Sweetheart, I've been ridin' since I was knee-high to a grasshopper."

She's in her element.

"Tell me somethin'. What d'you enjoy doin' when you ain't savin' lives?"

He chuckles, seeing as how she looks as if she were born in the saddle and a horse rocked her cradle at night.

"Well, I like to play hockey. Do I need to explain that sport to you, too?" His grin says he wouldn't mind, and she'll probably get an earful as a result.

She gives it some real serious thought.

"S'that the game where y'push a li'l plastic disc 'round a table?"

Is she serious?

Who knows.

"That's...air hockey." He smirks. "I mean, I play that, too, but that's just a tabletop game. I'm talking about ice hockey. Same general idea -- get a puck into the other team's goal. 'Cept of course we're on ice, and we're using five-foot-long sticks, and we're all wearing skates and helmets and padding 'cause we give and take some major hits in the course of gettin' that little disc into that goal. It's a full-contact sport, which baseball isn't."

It's only when he stops talking that he realizes that he's still on a horse.

The horse has almost forgotten about you, too, Tommy. As evidenced by the way he's started to drift from the path, toward a particularly tantalizing patch of grass near the fence line.

"Right. Ice polo — or shinny, I think they call it. In case y'didn't know, there ain't a whole lotta ice in Texas."

She turns her head, her smirk shifting into a slight frown.

"You all right there?"

"Uh-- yeah, I think so." Duncan's fallen a bit behind as Tommy tries to redirect him away from the fence.

"Hey, hey, stick to the trail, pal," he reminds the horse in much the same tone as he'd address an errant cab driver, though significantly milder and without profanity, adding a light tug on the reins to bring him back toward the center of the path.

"That's it, keep it moving, keep it moving-- dammit, not that far to the right, back over this way..."

Tommy eventually manages to stop confusing him and steers him straight again, and with another gentle tap from his heels, he catches up with Kate.

"Jeezus, he's got just as short an attention span as I do."

He leans forward and to the side a bit, trying to catch Duncan's eye. "Am I boring you? I'm still here, okay? Cut me some slack, will ya?" Leaning back, he gives him a pat on the neck anyway.

"What were we talking about--?" he says, continuing as if nothing had happened. "Shinny! Yeah, there's a lot of variations on hockey, depending on your location and what you've got to work with. 'Specially if you ain't got ice."

The indecision of the other horse agitates Rachat, but Kate keeps him on an even keel while Tommy struggles to straighten him out again. To be perfectly honest, the hardest thing for Kate through it all is not laughing and spooking the animals.

"He might be takin' advantage."

Duncan's the most good-tempered animal in the whole stable, but he's smart as a whip and can tell Tommy doesn't really know what he's doing. He flicks his ear back and shakes out his mane, grumbling.

"Well, I dunno much 'bout hockey, but ridin' has always been somethin' that helps clear my head. When everythin' starts feelin' heavy, takin' Beaut out t'the lonely stretches an' jus' lettin' her rip makes it all seem like a million miles away. It's ... freedom."

"Well, one horse has already taken advantage of me today..."

Tommy keeps a better handle on the reins as they walk on, keeping an eye on Duncan and trying to gauge if he's got some other idea of where he wants to go.

He utters a thoughtful chuckle. "Yeah, our methods for clearing our heads are obviously different, but the goal's the same, at least."

A bit more pensively he adds, "I used to drink a lot for the same reason. If you asked me a couple months ago what I enjoyed doing, I would've said drinking. I actually liked to drink for the sake of drinking, sure -- I mean, I still love the taste of whiskey even though I can't have it -- but drinking has that special added bonus of making you forget things you don't wanna think about. The more you wanna forget, the more you drink, blah blah blah. A wrong kind of freedom, but freedom nonetheless."

A pause, and he utters another chuckle, brighter and more amused this time. "And now I'm stone cold sober, sitting on the back of a horse, with you, at the end of the goddamn universe. I dunno how that happened. Does this count as freedom?"

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