Christmas Day With the Pilot [Nathan/Open to one]

[Nathan Whyte]

OOC: This has to be one of the slowest threads ever. Sorry!

Nathan started smiling as the Dunlevy cousin's began talking, and for some inexplicable reason, singing. He smile grew even more, until one came behind and yanked Nathan's underwear again. He let out a howl of pain, and began to scream. "Ya Irish fuc-"

At that moment, Niamh struck the back of his head. He spun, ready to hit back before he realised it was Niamh who quickly began stroking Nathan's head. It hadn't been a particularaly painful blow, and her soft touch instantly wiped away the pain. He let out a dull moan to try and get as much compassion from here as possible. He gave a sly wink to the cousins while Niamh couldn't see, and he reached back, gently untangling her hand and stroking the back of it to reassure her. "Hey, don't worry I'm fine. I'm a Kiwi remember, not one of those Irish pansies over there. We're made of sterner stuff down south."

As the Dunlevy boys turned and walked away muttering to themselves, Nathan turned around, pulling Niamh with him and re-entered the cafe. "Lets sit down, eh, get some brekkie, right. We've still got a great big city to get through today, but I don't think it will hurt sitting down for a half an hour to let it warm up. Besides, I would murder a coffee after that. I'll get them in, don't worry." He didn't get in a seat to let her overtake, this time just drawing his battered leather wallet and walking straight over to the counter, smiling and the jolly owner. Nathan raised his eyebrows and let out a breath, and in return got a solemn nod. "Right, Niamh, what will it be then?"

[Niamh Dunlevy]

The Dunlevy boys immediately recognized that sly wink of Nathan's. As Niamh's hand fell limp, Nathan stroking it as he comforted her, the cousins knew exactly what the Flight Sergeant was doing. It would be a lie to say they were irritated at that fact, but in that silent manner the four oldest of Daragh's boys had, they agreed to tackle Nathan later. A look and a nod was all that was needed, and then, they turned and walked away.

"Shall we ambush dem?" asked Hiram. Cillian nodded, a small smirk pulling at his lips.

"Aye. We'll wait raun de corner - act natural, boys. Den, whaen they cum raun, gie 'em a Dunlevy Dogpile."

"Ayyyye," the other three boys said, once more nodding in agreement. The plan was set; by the time Nathan came their way, he would be hurting from head to toe for flirting with Niamh. Cillian also hoped to smash the Kiwi's face into a pile of yellow snow in the process.

- + - + + - + -

The moan of pain seemed convincing at first, but a split-second later, Niamh saw a mischievious twinkle in the soldier's eye. She immediately pulled her hand back when he finished stroking it, thankfully having missed the wink, and gave Nathan a look. Aiming her foot, she gave Nathan a swift kick in the ankle, but not hard enough to leave it hurting.

"Do ye wanth tho geth intho an agro wit' m'cousins?" Niamh snapped, her eyes narrowing. "Dear God...if ye wanth an enemy reaaaaaal quick, t'en keep doin' whath yer doin'! Geez, whath's wit' you soldiers an' bein' so...so...competitive wit' lasses? I ain'th a playt'ing, y'know!"

At Nathan's suggestion to re-enter the little English café, however, Niamh's stern face softened slightly. She nodded, more then willing to have a spot of breakfast, and snorted amusedly at Nathan's comment about a coffee. "Yeah," said the Pavee, "t'ey'll do t'at tho ya. Justh imagine havin' tho deal wit' all o' t'em ath one place - t'e family reunions were always murder. T'at's why I'm nathurally a bith loud, ya see; ya 'ave tho yell if ya wanth t'e eejiths tho sthop bot'erin' ye."

Nathan attempted to pull Niamh into the small shop, but the Pavee wouldn't let him. Instead, she said, "Okay, okay, I'm comin'," and moved away from him, striding into the shop before he did. She took her seat at their old table, noting that the couple from earlier had left, leaving the café to just the pair. With a grateful, quiet sigh, Niamh walked over, halfway there when the Kiwi - whatever that meant - asked her what she wanted.

"Hoth chocolathe, please!" the young woman called out, continuing to her seat afterwards. She sat down without another word, waiting for the drinks to come, sniffing a little from the cold.

[Nathan Whyte]

Nathan gave the order to the owner of the small cafe and pulled out his wallet, resisting the urge to moan at the obviously inflated prices. He turned and walked over to the table, settling down opposite Niamh smiling in a slightly silly manner. Conversation, right. What to talk about which won't lead to an awkward silence. A toughy.

"So then, Niamh. You'll have to remind me, what brough you over to London in the first place? Or is it just chance that you're here in the capital?" It sounded like such an awkward sentance to Nathan, but he couldn't yank it back in. He just smiled again, slightly sheepishly this time as he adjusted himself in the leather seat feeling the chill of the material through his trousers. He had to think for a second to stop his leg jiggling, and his boot squeaked on the floor as he brought it back. With a small clatter, the drinks arrived, being placed on the table with a small clatter. Nathan pulled his off of the tray and tried to sip it, putting it down quickly as the boiling liquid almost scalded his lips. Burnt tongues were not nice, not nice at all.

He lifted himself slightly to replace his wallet in his pocket before settling down again, picking up one of the small biscuits that had been supplied as well, and twirling it gently in his fingers. He took another look at Niamh, trying hard not to seem staring, but not wanting to look away for too long. It was a hard balance to reach, her beauty seemed almost like a magnet, drawing him up to her rosy face.

[Niamh Dunlevy]

"Well y'see," began Niamh, "I came 'ere on a mix of thoo t'ings - one was Drum, who wasn'th feelin' t'at well, and t'e second was a job I heard 'bouth. I thravel around tho work, so I visith a loth of places while I'm makin' quid tho feed meself and Drummer. I've never been tho London unthil now, and I've been on me own since I was sixtheen - Brithain's a big place, y'know. I sthill can'th believe ith's thaken me so long tho explore ith."

She almost giggled as Nathan sipped his drink too fast. It was a mistake one of her cousins, Edmond, often made; whenever it was could out, he would immediately try to gulp down his hot drink to try and warm himself up. However, Edmond mostly found himself either hurting his lips and/or tongue, and even spilling his drink all down his shirt on some occasions. As he grew older, the fellow Pavee found himself growing out of the habit more and more, but he still did it frequently.

"I t'oughth ye said ye wanthed brekkie," said Niamh, watching as Nathan absent-mindedly played with a biscuit. He could still be reeling from the news of the previous night, hence his absent-mindedness...and why was he staring at her face so much? Did something in Niamh remind Nathan of his brother? "An' ith's noth good manners tho play wit' yer food, Nat'an. An' also, have ye goth somet'ing tho say tho me? Ye keep stharin' at my face all funny-like."

The young woman then reached down and grasped the handle of her hot chocolate-filled mug. She took a moment to blow on it, then gently sipped it, ladylike and quietly as to not draw unwanted attention. It was still a bit hot, so she put it back down, and proceeded to take a biscuit for herself to it. Niamh nibbled on it for a couple of minutes, staring out the window at people walking past the little shop.

"So," she began, "justh whath t'e heck is a Kiwi, anyways? Is ith some sorth o' insulth from where you're from? Ye menthioned from bein' from some place called 'En Zed'...."

[Nathan Whyte]

"Sorry, there's just a lot on my mind," Nathan spoke quietly, as if only half there and poked the biscuit in to his mouth and chewing down on it. Niamh carried on a bit, and Nathan replied, his voice laden with friendly sarcasm. "Yes, sorry mum,"was the words, a resigned look and tone coming over. Silence came down for a few moments, as they both nibbled before Niamh broke it again.

"A Kiwi? It's an animal, native to New Zealand. About so big, a flightless bird covered in feathers. It's not an insult at all, we're proud of them, but Kiwi is easier to say than 'New Zealander'." Nathan stopped and took another bite of biscuit and sip of hot chocolate which had started to cool to a bearable temperature. "So that answers where I'm from then, as well. New Zealand, first country to see the sun, and last to get any news." He flashed a cheeky smile then as he looked up at Niamh. He reverted the subject quickly back to Britain, "Yeah, Britain is pretty big. About the same size as New Zealand, but something like fifty times as populated, it's a bit crazy really."

"So where do you want to go after this? Anywhere in particular, or will we just wander around aimlessly? Either option is good, really, and I'm not bothered. You get to choose, consider it your present."

[Niamh Dunlevy]

"New Zealand..." began Niamh, the words sliding off her tongue like ice cream off a cone. Her tone was inquisitive, and it emphasized how foreign the word sounded to the Pavee. "Never heard o' ith, sorry. Well...maybe in one o' Fat'er's old books on t'e world, or maybe in one o' me old books in school.... Anyhow, a birdy like any ot'er bird, but ith can'th fly? Intherestin'. Sounds kinda cuthe; Kiiiiiwiiiiii...hm. Maybe I should ask Fat'er tho name one o' t'e spring's foals t'at. It would be adorable tho see a little foal throththin' up tho ya when ye say, 'Kiwi! Come 'ere, boy!'"

Niamh took a large bite out of her biscuit, enjoying the creamy flavour for a moment. She took another sip of her hot chocolate, and glanced outside at the street, slightly wary. When nobody came up and slammed the glass after a few moments, Niamh shrugged, then finished her biscuit and licked her lips.

"I've meth many people in Brithain," said Niamh. "Noth all o' t'em are nice, buth y'know, I've meth some good blokes o'er 'ere. I know someone 'elped Drum a while back - 'e was a soldier, justh like ye. Name was Sthephen, ith was...I'm lookin' fer a horse o' his, Joey. If ye see t'e lil' horsey, leth me know; Sthephen probably loves t'at lil' hunther tho biths."

Nathan then asked if Niamh had any place in mind she wanted to go to. The Pavee paused, an, "Ehhhhh..." escaping from her mouth. One finger tapped the pair's café table in thought, whilst the woman's eyes went heavenward, as if searching for an answer on the ceiling. She was like this for several moments, trying to think of a good way to start the day after breakfast.

"...Aha!"

Niamh grinned, an adventurous look on her face. Leaning forward, she said, "Ye 'ave goth me intheresthed in t'is Kiwi ye speak of. Any place in London where I can see one? Ith sounds worth taking a dekko, ith does...little fluffy bird...."

[Nathan Whyte]

Nathan sat back and smiled as Niamh began talking, and laughed at the thought of a foal named Kiwi. Something to do when he got home, certainly. Silence descended as they both enjoyed what was in front of them for a moment, before Niamh spoke up again.

"Stephen and Joey, ya don't say? Was the lad a Private, sorta mousey-looking, a bit quiet? I think I know him. Small world, really." Nathan smiled sort of lamely as he thought about his small friend, they had consoled each other after the death of Edward McMillan, a mutual friend.

"Kiwi's in London? I doubt it, they normally go for a slightly warmer climate than this place. I guess I'll have to do, won't I?" He took another sip of his drink, before giving a "hmmm!" of an idea. "I know, at Saint Paul's there is meant to be some excellent carolling if you want to walk over there?" He took another sip, enjoying the warmth it spread through him and raised the back of one hand to wipe off the small moustache it left. He felt a small stubble and realised he hadn't shaved that morning - how sloppy did he look? But for some strange reason, this gave him another idea.

"I'm stuck here for a few more days, Niamh. Tell me, have you ever flown before?"

[Niamh Dunlevy]

"Yeah, t'at's abouth ith," replied Niamh. "Yes, 'tis a small world. I'm surprised Sthephen an' ye know each ot'er - he has good thasthe in company, if I may say so meself."

The kiwi comment from Nathan made Niamh snort amusedly. Typical young man, flaunting a bit of arrogance here and there to impress the ladies...at least, that's what Niamh assumed from her time working with young colts. Like human men, they enjoyed prancing around in front of the females, the stallions-to-be getting into fights whenever they stepped onto the wrong sides of the pastures. It was odd how closely horses paralleled humans, but then again, the Pavee had grown up around horses. She considered them as human as the people that rode and used them.

"Caroling, ye say?" said the woman after Nathan mentioned such. "I was never much of a singer, buth sure, it does sound fun. You'll have to lead the way, t'ough - I losth mosth of my acquired knowledge of London's layouth while I was sleepin', heh."

As Niamh reached for another biscuit to enjoy, Nathan then stated he would be in London for a little bit, and asked if the Pavee had ever flown. To his question, Niamh replied, "Off a horse? Yes - quithe a few thimes, acthually. In a plane? Nah. Thook a boath from Ireland tho geth 'ere; did ya expecth me to make poor Drummer swim all t'e way here? He's fasth, noth watherproof, and I doubth a life vesth could fit on him."

The biscuit was eaten within a few minutes, followed by another. A long swig of hot chocolate washed the food down nicely, and Niamh leaned back with a content, "Aaaaah." The morning was proving to be most enjoyable; it was nice to have company after such a long time. Sure, Drummer was a good friend, but talking to another human was good for the soul. Niamh got lonely, just like any other person - however, she loved her life enough that those times were easily coped with.

"Why d'ye ask?" she added after a few moments. "You goth somet'ing in mind, Nat'an?"

[Daniel Brennan]

Mod Post

This thread lasted a loooong time.

CP:
Nathan Whyte: 12CP

Niamh Dunlevy: 12CP


~Dan