girlsolo | [Oct. 13-20] full stops and exclamation marks

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[Oct. 13-20] full stops and exclamation marks

Kate's back to drinking tequila again. That's never a good sign. Tonight it's a sign she's bouncing between sexy check-in notes with Declan that make this island seem all right and people like Coraline screaming and crying over how much it fucking sucks.

The smart thing to do would be find Will or Magnus, talk some of this out. Even finding someone to spar with, that would work. Thing is, Kate's not that kind of smart. When it comes to helping Coraline? Sure. Yeah. She's been listening to Will do his shrink thing for years now. But when it comes to herself?

Fuck that noise. She'd still rather fuck and forget.

Kate leans her back against a post to watch the room, drinks another shot (hot wheels only, no training), and flirts at whatever makes eye contact. Whether she's Go or just Show, she hasn't decided yet. Mostly, she's trying not to look for anyone in particular. She's trying not to wish he'd come in and just...

Take her home.

[OOC: Find her at the Hub or the Winchester (let me know) any evening between now and the 20th. Available for all of your Freelander needs. If you need a specific date, email me, otherwise I'll work them out. For the record, Kate's very bi but a lot less available than she thinks she is.]

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Huh. Not hopelessly hung up on Magnus and hitting on her. Two points in his favor. Kate can do subtle, but she's not seeing the point. Her gaze flicks down his body - he's tall - and back up. He's kind of easy on the eyes in a gruff, older guy way.

"I might." She grabs the stool next to his and catches the bartender's eye, giving a quick lift of her chin for another round. "But if tall, stacked and British is your type..." There's just a tiny hint of something there on top of the obvious invitation to look a little closer. A suggestion that Kate's not immune to Magnus either. She's not, but she's just layering it for him.

Was she checking him out? It had been so long since someone had looked at him like that.

"Is it your type?" he asked her, sliding a finger along the rim of his glass. "Because if so, you've just given me something new to keep me warm at night." He smirked, just enough hint of teasing to not come off as creepy.

Kate smirks right back as she curls her fingers around the glass that just hit her hand. "Knock yourself out." It's not like Kate hasn't warmed a few nights thinking about Magnus. Magnus and Will. Magnus and Declan. Will and Declan. Hell, even with Tesla thrown in.

"Don't stop at me though. I've never met anyone who wasn't Magnus-sexual."

It sounded to House like Kate was the one who had the infatuation. Interesting. He'd be annoyed if she ended up having a better shot than him, but he at least realized that half of his attraction to Magnus was probably that she seemed interested in him.

Which, let's be honest, was a point in this girl's favor right now too.

"So do you have a name or should I just call you Magnus-sexual?"

"Kind of a mouthful when I'm blowing your mind but, hey, I've been called worse."

Kate sucks down her shot and gives him a look. Thinking about it. She could give a fuck about the cane and whyever he needs it. Kate's not that kind of shallow. There's how Magnus would feel about it, but she didn't seem to care about her banging Tesla. And she's stupid in love with Will.

Maybe she's doing Will a favor if she gives Grumpy something else to think about. "Name's Kate, though. Kate Freelander."

"Is that what you're doing?" asked House before knocking back the rest of his drink. "Blowing my mind? And I'm House." Then as an afterthought, "Greg House."

"Yeah. I know." Information's a resource. It may not be worth much, here on the island, but you never know when it might and Kate makes it her business to have it. She doesn't have a network yet, but eventually, she will.

"And, no, not yet." There's a beat pause for her lips to purse and eyes to flash, the 'Greg' strongly implied in the purr. "But I could be."

"Could you." He wanted to ask her why, but he hadn't had sex in so long that he wasn't about to question her if that's what she was really implying. Gift horse, mouth.

"Want to get out of here?"

No sense in drawing it out.

"Bold move," she teases, heat in her eyes and her smile. There are questions in his eyes and she's glad he doesn't ask. He probably wouldn't like the answers.

Kate hops up off her stool, power and predatory grace in the movement. "My place is halfway to dinosaur territory. Hope yours is closer."

"Very close," said House. "Just other side of the tree."

He slid off of the chair, grabbing his cane. She must have seen him walk before. If she didn't care that he was a cripple old enough to be her father then he wasn't going to emphasize it.

He was glad he'd been drinking, but the reason he was here in the first place was that his leg hurt, and even now he was putting barely any of his weight on it.

Kate watches him adjust his weight. From how he moves on the leg, it's pretty fucked up. She'd say she hopes that's not why he's taking her home but it would be a lie. Kate doesn't care.

What she wants? His reasons don't matter at all. Might, if he could kick her ass and she was worried about being safe, but she's not. And she's got condoms in her pocket. That's another promise she didn't make Declan but she is keeping. No one else gets her unprotected. No matter what they end up doing.

She quirks him a sharp grin and falls into step. "Convenient. I like a guy that plans ahead."

House snorted. "Not so much. My place was there first... I've been here for a long time. A very long time."

He'd actually never met anyone who had been here longer than him, which was... depressing. Actually.

They walked out of the Winchester, Kate keeping step with House's halting movements.

Kate looks over at him, head cocked, then shrugs. "Can't decide if that's good news or bad news." Bad news, stuck here. Good news, maybe the people she needs most won't just disappear. Like Coraline's people. "How long is a very long time? You give up on getting home yet?"

If it feels like an interrogation, maybe it is. Or maybe she just wants to know something about him before she sucks his brain out through his dick or whatever.

"Almost six years," said House. Really almost. Within the month, he suspected. He managed a wry smile, just this side of bitter. "Bad news for me, at least. Have I given up? I've seen too many people disappear to think I'll be here forever."

Her shoulders round at that, tensing. She doesn't want to talk about people disappearing or think about it. Then stop asking the question, Freelander.

"Long fucking time to be marooned on the Island of Misfit Toys," is what she says instead, bitter. "Does it ever get better?" Weird how sometimes it's easier to talk to strangers. People you don't even like that much.

"It does for some people," said House. "For me, it just gets worse." He realized that being a downer probably wasn't the best strategy for getting into a woman's pants, but he couldn't bring himself to put on a happy face for this particular subject. Or any subject, really.

He nodded ahead in the path, toward his hut. "Home sweet home."

"Well that's fucking depressing," Kate says, and hears Magnus-voice saying 'terribly' instead and her echoing it. It's a lot more depressing than her not stealing any money when they robbed a bank together.

If anything, it just steels her spine. She slides him a sly little grin from under her hair. "How about we skip the 'depressing' and get to the 'fucking'?"

House arched an eyebrow, and tried his best to ignore the way those words sent a flush of warmth straight to his cock. Way, way too long.

"I have a great appreciation for directness," he said, and led her up the short set of stairs to his front porch. As soon as he opened the door, the big black lab came bounding out. House patted him on the head. "Go chase some birds for a while, Fucker," he said.

"Fucker? Is that really his name?" Kate asks, bursting out laughing. She held out her hand to the dog, grinning warm and sincere. So sue her, she loves animals.

It's kind of a distraction, but she doesn't mind. She tells herself the lie she's not stalling and believes it.

"Yeah," said House, "and believe it or not, I didn't even name him." The dog answered to Padfoot too, just because House saw the value in not constantly yelling profanities, but they both knew what his name really was.

The dog nosed at Kate's hand, licked her fingers, and then took off like a shot down the steps. He'd be laying on the front porch on the pillow there in the morning.

House walked inside, gesturing her in. His hut was, if anything, a bachelor pad, as far as huts went. Not messy, but not particularly clean. Books strewn here and there, a strange mixture of detective novels, medical texts, and lesbian erotica. There was a guitar open in the case in the corner. The bed was a real bed, large and comfortable. It wasn't made, but the sheets were clean.

"I suppose this is where I offer you a drink," he said, "but I'm afraid all I can manage is water or marijuana."

"Water and marijuana works," Kate answers almost absently.

She's already scanning the hut, checking out everything there. Her fingertips dancing across everything, stopping at the lesbian erotica. She picks it up and flips through a few pages. "Guess you weren't kidding about Magnus and I warming your fantasies."

It's tempting, really tempting, to read a few pages out loud. Somehow with the alcohol, the marijuana and the prospect of no strings sex, she doubts Greg needs the encouragement. She does bend down to unlace her boots, though, and toes those off while she's waiting for him.

"Hey, a guy needs a hobby," House said dryly. He hadn't really expected her to take him up on the pot, but hey, whatever was going to help his chances. Because if they dropped off now it would be pretty depressing.

He opened a drawer and pulled out a rolled joint and a box of matches. "Nice boots," he said, as he lit it and walked over to her. He was standing close when he gave it to her, looking her over in obvious appreciation.

"But you like them better off?" There's an edge to that, a push that's looking for a response. It doesn't matter what the response is, but she needs more than words here.

She's a club kid from way back, though, and the joint in her hand and the first hit are familiar even without the clouds of smoke and the pounding bass. When she holds the smoke long enough, the edges blur and she doesn't hate the island quite so much.

She gestures to the bed behind her. "Mind if I sit?"

"Not at all." House waited for her, and then leaned his cane against the dresser and crossed the room, steps a bit halting. He stopped in front of her.

"I'm sure you know how beautiful you are," he said. They always did. "Fuck, if we were back home I'd assume you were a hooker." He sat down beside her. "But you've kind of made my night. Week. Month. Whatever."

With a laugh and an amused cock of her head, Kate offers back the joint. "Probably should be huffy about that, but I've been called worse."

She's done worse. Hell, she's done that, but not often. It might be just sex, but getting paid for it feels like crap. Not dirty, just insulting.

"Curious why you'd think that. You're a good-looking guy. Any chick worth fucking couldn't give a--" Her lips curl up like a well-played joke as her hand gestures out toward the cane and lands on his good thigh, almost affectionate. "Fuck about that. Yeah, you're a dick but you're also a doc and that comes with the territory in the best ones."

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