likeroaringlions | (no subject)

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Right. Does he need to take anything home with him from Milliways? ...Can he take anything home with him from Milliways? What is there that won't draw attention? Well--the fan for his mother, the rabbitskins from Shephard. They'd been bought with home use in mind. Can he take a football? No. A stoneware bottle of that good red wine? Yes. The picture of Jamie from the fair? After a moment's pause, he stuffs that into the small sack he's packing.

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William's face suddenly goes red as well. Which hardly ever happens. "All right, all right. I'm just-- anyway, who's to say you haven't pulled some pretty girl here in Milliways?"

"Ha!" (why does he think of ursula oh god no stop why) "I wouldny trust-- she might be a witch or something."

"Ehhh, that might be fun! Witchcraft in the bedroom...!"

"More for you, then, I'm no risking it."

William flops back with an annoyed grunt. "No, you're right, this place is..." Is something.

"It's no so bad," Jamie says, and he mostly means it. "You think you'll be able to get here from anyplace but Stirling?"

"I hope so." It's been on his mind. For one thing, he's told Jim he'd help with his telescope project. Which...he hasn't mentioned to Jamie. And probably won't. "I'll try every fucking door in Threave, see if they take me here."

Jamie snorts. "Oh, aye, that willny seem strange."

"I'll just tell them one of the bairns lost a dolly or something. I'm a good big brother, looking for it, right?"

"That's the sort of thing you get up to when you're off home, then?" Jamie laughs. "Claiming you're raiding, fighting, but really..."

"Really it's all just babies spitting up on my shoulder, and me teaching the weans their letters, aye."

That's...totally how it is. Yes.

Jamie laughs. "I canny picture you teaching wee bairns their letters!"

"Can you no? A is for Arsehole, B is for Bastard Englishmen, C is for--"

"Right, alright then." His laughter fades, and he's quiet a moment. It seems silly to bid any kind of farewell, given that it seems very likely they'll just meet here again. So he just says, "Well, good luck, then."

"Thanks."

William sits up, also quiet, looking at Jamie's face. "Well. I'll be seeing you at your wedding, if I don't see you before then."

He tries not to make a face. "Aye. I'll be seeing you then."

"Maybe I'll be an old married man too, then. Pick up that Galloway girl while I'm in the area." (A carefully casual mention, here, given how it went last time they talked about her.) "Or maybe it'll all fall through and we'll have another year to fuck around getting drunk and playing football. Well. Not that getting married stops you from anything like that, right?"

"No. Hope it won't."

"Why would it? Wives have to put up with worse than a man drinking his wine and kicking the ball around. It'll be alright."

He reaches out to punch Jamie's shoulder, or pat it, or maybe just touch his arm.

Jamie takes a swing back that misses by far but is just enough movement to shake off William's hand if it lingers too long.

"Yeah. Yeah."

Yeah.

William looks over at his bag, quiet a moment longer, and then slaps his knees and gets up. "Right, well. I'd best be off."

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