capeandcowllogs | this is how it works; in progress

Entry tags:

† !—dropped characters—! †

this is how it works; in progress

WHO: Teddy and Sarah Altman (

justlikeherson )
WHERE: Wherever Sarah takes him.
WHEN: Yesterday, Sept. 19th - Saturday. Morning.
WARNINGS: A brief mention of sex in the beginning.
SUMMARY: Sarah takes Teddy out to breakfast for his birthday.
FORMAT: TL;DR paragraph to start; after that, whatever we want.

It's going to be a good day. Teddy can tell.

Granted, the day isn't well enough along for him to have much to go on, but Teddy doesn't really care. He'd fallen asleep the night before tangled up with Billy and the sheets and had woken up much the same way -- feeling warm and perhaps a little nervous of the day ahead, but generally content. They'd spent the last hour climbing over one another in bed, Billy murmuring half-formed birthday congratulations and something about how he really needs to make sure they've got enough soda -- more asleep than awake. It felt good, but then again sex with Billy always felt good, but something about the day made it seem oddly better.

Before heading out the bedroom door, Teddy pulls the blankets up to cover Billy's bare shoulders and Billy mumbles something unintelligible and bats at Teddy's hand blindly before turning over with a soft snore. This is enough to get Teddy to smile and he's still smiling when he finally heads downstairs, trying to take the steps quietly, two at a time. It's a Saturday so people in the house are sleeping in, but he's up extra early to go out with his mom. After such rough week in the house -- what with the mix-up with Billy's magic and the fight with Tommy -- he's suddenly looking forward to the opportunity for it to be just the two of them.

Once he's in the living room, he gives a look around, raising his voice just loud enough to be heard in the kitchen if she's there. "...Mom? You ready?"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Sarah's been up for awhile. She took an early morning walk, to think about things and reminisce, a little, and to be thankful. She's in the kitchen when Teddy calls for her, and she takes a sip of her coffee before abandoning it to reply "In the kitchen," and then walking out into the living room to look at him.

It's strange, that sometimes she expects to walk into a room he's in and see the rambunctious little boy he was, that she's still surprised by who he's become. It's always a pleasant surprise, a little sensation of relief in her chest, that she did okay by him.

"Happy Birthday, honey," she says, moving to hug him.

The last time Teddy's mom had told him that he was about to turn sixteen. It was a Friday and it had rained all night and well into the morning and Teddy still remembers because when he had turned seventeen, it was all he had been able to think about. Two years since they'd last shared a birthday together -- way too long, Teddy thinks, and still yet completely unavoidable.

But, he catches himself, now's not the time to dwell on the past. Right now, they have each other and they have this. Hugging his mother as tightly as he can (he knows he can take so much more than most anybody else when it comes to his strength) he shuts his eyes and just holds the moment as close to himself as he possibly can.

"Thanks, mom," he murmurs. "I am officially old and crusty."

She hugs back, savoring the moment. She laughs, feeling it start in her stomach and rise up, making her lift her shoulders a little as she squeezes him a little tighter. Then she pulls back, still laughing, and dusts the bridge of his nose with her first and second finger. She rubs her thumb against her fingers, inspecting them with mock-intensity, then holding them up for him to see.

"Old, but not crusty," she says, laughter settling back into a smile. "What are you in the mood for, breakfast-wise?"

Teddy is very tempted to pout indignantly at his mom and almost does -- his bottom lip getting halfway there before he pulls his top lip over it and sucks it into his mouth. According to his brain, seventeen year old dudes can get away with the occasional pout -- eighteen year olds (however newly minted) -- don't. So instead he squints one of his eyes and tries to make his voice sound as put-on as he can possibly manage. It's a helpless affair since he's on the verge of laughing himself. "Maybe I'm just crusty in private. While being old. At the same time."

Settling back, he considers her question and then shrugs. "Anything, really. I told Bill, today's objective is to not have to make a single decision. I am on birthday auto-pilot. Lead me to the promised land of breakfast foods, mom."

Sarah reaches out to pat his cheek affectionately, eyes crinkling at the corners. "I'm sure," she says, shaking her head a little. She's happy, though, and can't bring herself to make a very good effort at disapproving.

"Okay, then. There's a place that serves breakfast all day that I pass on the way to work. I've stopped in a time or two, and I was impressed. So let's go there," she says, already heading to the door.

"Mmmm. Breakfast-for-dinner breakfast. For actual breakfast."

Teddy nods and trots ahead to the door to open it for his mother. The day is sunny, though a little brisk, and he has to backtrack into the living room closet for a sweatshirt to toss over his t-shirt before the two of them head off. This early on a Saturday, the streets are lined with cars belonging to locals and their guests who have spent the night crashed on couches and living room floors. There's very little traffic, however, so it makes their walk go fairly easily -- punctuated by the occasional stop at a red light. Teddy does a little dance back and forth between his feet at an intersection, trying to get some of the chill to shake itself off his legs.

"You know, I was talking to this guy at work the other day. He says me turning eighteen means you're going to have some kind of mom-crisis." He raises a concerned eyebrow at her. "Was he full of bull?"

The walk is enjoyable. Sarah likes that it's cooling down. The Throneworld was always warm, tropical, almost, and she's come to enjoy the different seasons, even if cool mornings do make her sleepy.

She tilts her head and looks at Teddy curiously. "Do I seem like I'm having a mom-crisis?" She asks, raising both eyebrows in return.

She's not. Not really. She's been a sort of low-level worried for him- different from her nebulous fears for him when he was young, when she was afraid they'd be found out, that anyone on the street could be an infiltrator, trying to hurt him- but not frantic. Somehow, having more concrete worries makes it easier for her. It's a strange sort of relief.

The flashing red hand turns into a small outline of a man in the walk position but Teddy fails to pay any attention of it, just continues to lean on the lamppost at the corner and look at his mom. He scrunches up one half of his face as he squints at her, as if somehow that will make the answer more evident all of a sudden.

"I dunno," he eventually says, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck and shield his eyes from the rising morning sun. "You just seem mom-like. I don't think I'm the best judge when it comes to crises."

Leaning forward, he peers at her face. "Do you feel all crisis-like?"

Sarah smiles and shakes her head. "I don't. I really don't. It's a little bit strange, and I'm feeling a little nostalgic, but no. I don't think I'm going to have a mom-crisis."

She takes a deep breath and gently nudges him to start walking. She considers what he's saying, fiddling with the strap of her purse. "I think I'm all crisis-ed out," she says after a moment. "Do you?"

Teddy laughed and had the urge to make a comment about how the both of them were tempting fate by having a conversation like this. Instead, he just shrugged one shoulder, tilting his head up and back, the very faintest autumn breeze playing slightly with his hair. He felt light despite the still-giddy nervousness he felt at the prospect of being eighteen. "I dunno, mom. Things right now are really good. You'd think after a year and after everything we'd all been through here, I would feel crisis-ed out. But," he shrugged again. "I know there'll always be more, I guess. Can't really take it for granted, though, or else it might all go to crap again and I'll have missed out."

The corners of Sarah's mouth curve up in what's not quite a smile. "Hmm," she closes her eyes and enjoys the breeze skimming over her face. "Better to spend the time enjoying it than worrying about what might happen." Not that she's a very good example in the not-worrying department, but she's trying. "Maybe nothing will," she has to smile for real at the prospect. She'd always had something of a pessimistic streak about the future- she'd been under the impression it'd keep her breathing longer. Maybe that was changing.

The breakfast place doesn't take too long to walk to, and Sarah stops in front of it, resisting the urge to ruffle Teddy's hair. "After you, birthday boy."

Teddy can't help but roll his eyes a little at that. There's something about the way she says 'birthday boy' that makes him feel like he's eleven years old again and they're about to step into a party at a Chuck E Cheese. Despite the passing embarrassment this causes he gives her a little nod -- almost like a bow -- and steps inside, making sure to hold the inner door open for her to return the favor.

When he does, a blast of warm air hits them from inside. It smells like bacon and butter melting on toast, and it's enough to get Teddy's stomach to gurgle loudly. "Oh man," he says, half to himself, "I am so gonna order one of everything off the menu."

"If you want. It is your birthday, after all," Sarah smiles. "I might even be persuaded not to say 'I told you so' when all that bacon gives you a heart attack."

The hostess shows them to a table, and Sarah sits down to page through the brightly colored menu's pictures of pancakes and waffles and eggs. She decides she's in the mood for an omelet.

Lowering her menu a little so she can look over it at Teddy, she sighs. "It's been quite the year for you, hasn't it?"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

this is how it works; in progress

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

SORRY THIS IS SO LATE orz

XD s'okay.