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

"Epsom salts," she reminds him, biting back her laughter. "In a hot bath tonight, twenty minutes at least."

She ducks under Duncan's chin, leaving Rachat to graze while she offers Tommy some help. Not that she expects he'll take it, even if he could use it as an excuse to get her touching him again.

"An' y'might wanna try some self-massage. Where it aches."

Innocent as the driven snow.

"Can I lend you a hand gettin' up?"

No, honestly, what?

Normally he would be all over the puns, except now he's distracted by the realization that he might not even be able to actually perform any of those puns for like the next week or so. And though he's more physically fit compared to the average man his age, he's still no spring chicken, even if his brain still pretty much operates at an adolescent level.

Wincing, he straightens up, one hand pressed to the small of his back, and he gives her a sidelong look. He's weighing his options.

"I'm fine," he stubbornly insists, except of course, he obviously isn't. "Mind over matter, that's all. Mind over matter."

Right. So, take two.

Grab the reins, grab the mane, grab the saddle.

Foot up in the stirrup (Ow).

A couple of hops for momentum (Jeezus Christ, ow).

He pauses his efforts and glances over his shoulder.

"Um. Okay. I could maybe use a little boost."

There's no smart remarks, no laughing, no teasing. She simply closes the distance between them, makes a sling with her hands, and takes his left heel.

"On the count'a three. One, two, three."

She boosts him up so he can swing his right leg over Duncan's back a little easier. In theory.

Luckily the theory works.

And hey, that totally wasn't awkward or ego-crushing at all, but he'll get over it.

And as he lands in the saddle with a jaw-clenching grimace, he kind of feels like he wants to die, but he'll get over that, too.

"Thanks," he grunts through clenched teeth.

"Don't tell me you ain't havin' fun."

She says it with a touch of sarcasm and a winning smile, trying to dispel some of the discomfort by reminding him of the excellent company he's got. Even Duncan holds still through it all — perhaps their little talk touched his heart. Or perhaps he's just tired.

"I'd say it gets easier after your first time, if I thought you'd ever come 'round t'see me again."

She pats his knee, and heads back to Rachat.

"I think maybe we should only get as adventurous as a trot back. I don't wanna split you down the middle."

My junk is going numb right now, HOW CAN THIS NOT BE FUN?

"Oh, yeah. Definitely fun."

He sits up straighter, adjusting his, uh, position, and having no choice but to push through the pain.

"Hey, listen, just 'cause you enjoyed watching me make an ass outta myself way too much doesn't mean I wouldn't come back to see you. And whaddya mean, only a trot? You said we were gonna do a canter, let's do a canter."

Two weeks of not being able to use your junk, Tommy.

"Sugar, I admit I was havin' a li'l fun with you earlier when I suggested it. You're jus' gonna hafta forgive me for that. It's your first time ridin', an' I genuinely don't wanna hurt you. So let's start with the trot, then we'll see 'bout the canter."

She doesn't want to bruise his ego, either. But for all her harrying him and being a tease, she does take the safety of her stock and her students seriously. So she's firm on this, imploring blue eyes devoid of their typical taunting spark.

She brings Rachat up on Duncan's left side, and her expression softens.

"An' if it makes a lick of difference, y'didn't make an ass outta yourself by my reckonin'. I might'a been havin' some fun with you, but y'were laughin' an' pokin' fun right back. That's all I was hopin' for."

He's about to protest with his typical cocky bluster, but he sees that she's being dead serious here. She's the expert and he should listen to her, even though every fiber of his being still screams to do otherwise, and as much as he hates to admit it, he does not know everything about everything. Today is proof of that. And he'll be feeling it for a while, too.

"Okay, whatever," he concedes with a casual shrug, which would roughly translate to Oh thank GOD.

A good-natured smirk returns to his lips. "Mmmmnope, I'm pretty sure I made an ass outta myself. Trust me, I do it all the time, so I know how it feels. You weren't the one who fell off a horse that was standing still. Seriously, that's as ass-tastic as you can get."

There's a line between trying to impress her and ending up making her laugh at his expense. Tommy straddles that line like a boss (until he falls off, of course).

With a light nudge of his heels, he starts Duncan off and guides him back onto the trail. Hey, at least he can do this sort of okay without fumbling.

She laughs good-humoredly, walking Rachat along next to him.

"I'd offer t'even the field by tryin' t'learn somethin' you're good at, but I don't think I could jump into what you do. 'Course, I ain't sure I could even stand up on a pair of ice skates, so there is that."

All right, so maybe he looked like an ass. Just a little. But Kate's temperament is gentle most of the time. If you push her buttons she'll push right back, but she sees potential where others see mistakes. Tommy getting on the horse at all wipes his slate clean of assery.

"If y'hold your reins straight, like there's a clothes line from Duncan's bridle t'your wrists t'your elbow, an' give a li'l more pressure with your heels, it should ease you into a trot."

She snaps Rachat's reins lightly and clucks her tongue, demonstrating what she just instructed Tommy to do. The thoroughbred sets off ahead of Duncan at an easy trot.

As he slides his sunglasses back down onto the bridge of his nose, her suggestion intrigues him. "Well, hey, I could totally teach you to ice skate. Of course, the lake's not gonna freeze up anytime soon, but if you don't mind a day trip to New York, there's a year-round ice rink I could take you to."

It's a casual enough offer. There's even a hint of fun in his tone.

Observing Kate carefully and imitating her posture and the way she holds the reins, Tommy puts all of it together and gives Duncan a firmer nudge with his heels. The horse utters a noise that sounds a lot like, About time, you doofus, before he picks up the pace.

Except Tommy didn't expect all the bouncing. This saddle is hard.

"Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow." Etc. Tommy bites it all back as Duncan catches up to Rachat.

"To New York?"

There is unmistakable interest in her voice. Even if Tommy didn't notice he struck a chord there, the roundness of her eyes when she turns to him would give her away. She's always wanted to see New York; it was the first place she thought of when she learned about travel through doors here. Somehow, after four years, she's still never been.

"Well, I — I wouldn't want t'impose."

Did she hear something before Duncan came up level with Rachat? She eyes Tommy top to bottom.

Hmm. Perhaps it was just her imagination.

Bottom would be the key word.

"Not a problem," he replies as cheerily as he can through slightly gritted teeth, doing his damnedest to settle into the rhythm of the trot.

"Just hafta-- figure out a way to-- get you through the firehouse without too many people noticing-- ow, Jeezus. Are there cushions for saddles?"

And she's laughing again.

"Line your shoulders up with your heels. Look."

She has perfect posture. It doesn't make the ride as smooth as being in an automobile, but it helps to keep certain things from getting jostled too much.

Arching an eyebrow, her lips take on a familiar twist.

"You ashamed t'be seen with me?"

Prone to slouching in his seat -- any seat, apparently -- Tommy mirrors what she's doing as best he can and finds that it does lessen the pressure somewhat, and it's easier to sync up with the horse's movements.

He eyes her with a light smirk. "What? No, 'course not. Just that my door opens up in the firehouse, and civilians usually aren't allowed inside, so it'd be pretty hard to explain to my coworkers what a woman wearing a cowboy hat and cowboy boots was doing coming out of the kitchen or the locker room with me. I'll think of something, though."

"Ah. I wouldn't want t'make you the subject of gossip."

She's sure he must worry about such things.

"Y'let me know when it wouldn't be an inconvenience, an' I'll see Miss Bar 'bout gettin' some clothes that'd look right in your where an' when."

He barks out a short laugh. "Yeah, well, you'd be surprised how fast word travels in a firehouse. Everybody gets to know everything about everyone else at lightning speed. And don't worry too much about the clothes, really -- in New York City, nobody cares what you dress like. If you walked down 5th Avenue dressed like you are now, I wouldn't be surprised if you started yet another fashion trend, maybe something called 'cowgirl chic' or whatever. And besides, I can't see you wearing anything else."

"Cowgirl chic?"

That sounds like something Alice Whitlock would say. Though, she had no problem trying to introduce Kate to a broader wardrobe.

She smiles at Tommy.

"All right. S'a deal."

Beat.

"But y'aren't allowed t'knock me on my backside if it don't come natural. There's a difference between turnabout an' vengeance."

"Now, hey, I would never do anything like that."

His tone is sincere, and maybe even a little hurt that she'd think he'd stoop to that.

Of course he then says, quite pleasantly,

"I'd let you fall on your ass on your own."

"Mm, a real gentleman."

However, like him, there's no insincerity in her grin. Falling is a part of learning. The trick is getting back up.

As soon as the boys catch sight of the stables, they pick up the pace a little. Eager to get back, it's not long before they reach their quarry, and Kate brings her mount to a graceful stop.

"Exactly, except when I'm not," he reminds her, flashing a grin of his own.

Either Duncan is too eager to get back inside for some treats, or Tommy has a little trouble stopping him -- or possibly a combination of both -- they overshoot Kate and Rachat by several yards before slowing down. "Hey, whoa, take it easy, pal, take it easy," Tommy murmurs, tugging on the reins as evenly as he can, and eventually Duncan calms down and stops with a snort and shake of his head.

"Yeah, I think he's tired of me by now."

Behind him, Rachat makes a sound that could be described as braying laughter.

"But y'handled it well."

It's been a long time since Kate's laughed this much in one morning. It's a nice feeling.

She ties Rachat off in front of his stall, and makes a quick stop on her way to help Tommy off of Duncan. She looks a mite sheepish, like she's extending a hand to a snapping dog.

"Now, don't think I think any less of you, 'cuz that ain't my meanin'. This is good for the horse's back, an' lots of folk use one..."

She sets a mounting block down by his right side.

And smiles.

(With that gold hair and those big doe eyes, to call the smile charming would be an understatement.)

The smile and the blonde hair and the big blue eyes--

Tommy's not going to snap at her.

He's just going to give her a look.

"Good for the horse's back," he repeats, his grin sharp with skepticism. "You're kidding me, right? I don't need that thing. Really. Believe me, I can do this, I know what I did wrong the first time and I ain't gonna screw up again."

Stubborn, meet Stubborn.

Yep. She's starting to get an inkling of what's so familiar when she looks in his eyes.

"If y'fall on top of me, I'll be forced t'assume you're tryin' t'flirt."

In other words, are you sure you can't be convinced, Tommy?

He utters a hoarse (ha) laugh.

"Hey, you can assume whatever you want if I do fall on you, but I ain't gonna fall, period."

It would be easier to convince a brick wall to move two inches to the left.

She holds her hands up in surrender, and gathers up the mounting block.

"All right, cowboy. Have it your way."

At least he stands the chance of falling in a stall this time. Maybe he'll find a new girlfriend.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject