Magdalene Grace Garcia (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
talesuntold) wrote2022-01-26 10:05 pm
talesuntold) wrote2022-01-26 10:05 pmEntry tags:
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lastvoyages
IC Contact |
talesuntold) wrote2022-01-26 10:05 pm
lastvoyages
for Fitz and Jesus
"Frankly amazed you hadn't run into each other yet, considering how much time you both spend here. Jesus, this is Fitz, my boyfriend. I'll have to introduce you to my girlfriend Iris sooner or later, but we usually spend the night at her place." So they're less likely to coincidentally run into each other around Maggie's cabin.
"And Fitz, this is my brother Jesus." When Fitz knows full well Maggie was an only child. It's nice, introducing someone as her sibling for the first time.
Re: for Fitz and Jesus
Fitz is a new face and a new name though. He smiles, lifts a hand in greeting. "Hi. I, uh, I brought some muffins." Enough for the three of them, thankfully, though he'd really only planned to bring enough that Maggie could have an extra.
Re: for Fitz and Jesus
He smiles in Jesus' general direction, and probably would wave if his hands weren't full. "Hello. Always space for muffins." He's pretty sure Maggie's an only child. She would've definitely mentioned it, and he pays attention to what she says.
Someone she's close to here? Makes sense.
Re: for Fitz and Jesus
Maggie nudges Fitz's hip with hers. "Is that a 'please fill in the conversational gaps until I've had caffeine' answer? Usually you don't shut up."
"And you even brought a spare muffin." She sets down the spatula and comes over to give Jesus a hug. "I would've shared mine, but that's a nice coincidence. Hi."
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"How long have you been dating?"
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He rubs his face, making something of an attempt to wake up a little, before shaking his head at Jesus. "You should sit down, or whatever. Watching water boil keeps me from falling over."
Maggie's going to have to handle any question that requires thought.
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"He's not a morning person," Maggie tells Jesus, unnecessarily. Which is part of why they've missed each other before, in a case of timing that Maggie found hilarious.
"Four or five months since we admitted we'd failed at friends with benefits and caught feelings." She grimaces a little. "Had a breach with unpleasant reminders of home," the kind Jesus would recognize all too well, "and he checked on me and let me sprawl on him after, so I figured he'd probably earned boyfriend status."
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"Is he from a world like ours?"
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They'd figure out some other way to portion out the day.
"But I'm a great friend with benefits." He doesn't want that discounted, just because he's terrible at not falling in love
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Maggie laughs as Fitz defends himself. "No complaints here, but you're much more of a romantic than you seem like when you first start flirting." Just saying.
Then to answer Jesus's question as she heads to the table to serve up the omelet, "And nah. A different science fiction genre. Adventures through space and time, tagalong on someone's ship. And the real test of whether he's still asleep is whether he can refrain from chiming in when I talk about the Doctor."
She'll take a seat once the eggs are dished out.
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Fitz takes a drink of tea before carrying his mug over, dropping a kiss on the top of Maggie's head.
"I played a very sexy nurse on the radio, once. The Doctor is just his name, though he did get a medical degree from Edinburgh. In 1880. I believe in the importance of being professionally unemployed."
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Maggie manages not to laugh at the idea of Fitz as a nurse, but only just barely. She watches them both intently with a hint of mischief in her smile.
"Everyone I'm currently dating is a time traveler with more whimsy than sense," Maggie laments into her tea, but she's smiling as she says it. "Okay, that's not true, Iris has a lot of sense, she just has a lot of everything else, too. She's a force of nature with a knack for fun. And you have some sense buried deep under all the nonsense. At least enough to predict when I'm hurting and take care of me."
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"Ooh two blows. Accusing me of any sense and putting me next to Iris? Unfair."
He considers Jesus' question for a moment.
"A new answer for every day. Ixtrice, in the late 30th century. A time of peace, prosperity and cross-cultural exchange. Of every kind. There's a word market there, an exchange of books and poems and ideas that literally lights up ground the market is built on. You can go out in one of the riverboats - strike up a conversation without anyone thinking it's weird if you miss a reference or watch the world go by or join in one of the swimming games..."
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But then she'll soften at the picture he paints of that market, amusement fading away and just leaving affection in its wake.
"Exquisite," she says, quiet and warm. "I'd love to take you up on it, once you and Sweeney have both graduated."
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He shrugs at Jesus' question.
"I have no idea. A while, probably, but I've bounced back and forth a bit on top of the Barge's usually strangeness." He grins, between tea and the chance for dramatics, he's much more awake. "It's one of the problems that can come when cosmic powers just couldn't bear to see you die for real. Not everyone could handle it, probably, but I have great strength of spirit."
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"You have great capacity for drama," Maggie notes with dry amusement, before adding thoughtfully, "Longer than me for sure, which is a year and a half now, but I don't think you've ever told me how much longer. Have you had a permanent warden for any portion of that? I know being unpaired doesn't eat at you the way it did Sweeney, but I worry. A neverending rotation of temps rarely does anyone good."