shocfix (![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} shocfix) wrote,@ 2003-02-23 05:00:00 |
 |
|||
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Ron Watching Dinosaurs - R/Hr - G
Title: Ron Watching Dinosaurs
Rating: G
Word Count: 499
A/N(optional):
The air hostess looks like Lavender.
I should be past that, by now, but I just spent a year in jeans and jumpers and danger and two inches of dirt and a tent, and her smooth and shiny hair is elegantly pinned back and her blouse is intriguingly unbuttoned and her left breast claims to be called 'Kimberley' and her legs are almost glowing in nearly nude stockings.
Does Ron know that they are stockings?
Is he thinking of thighs and suspenders?
No, that's just me.
He's a good person, and he's thinking of his dead brother and worrying about me; I'm the one being shallow and vain and comparing my thighs to the air hostess.
He's the one who blushed scarlet at the word Virgin blazoned everywhere.
We are two hours from Hong Kong, where we change planes, so our far from virgin Kimberley has been taking really exceptionally good care of Ron for ten hours. He has hung on her every word between barely removing his headphones and pushing buttons and flicking through the channels and I wanted to talk to him.
We haven't really talked talked, and I don't want to assume anything, and lord knows we've had more than our share of misunderstandings, in the past, but he's coming half way around the world for me.
But we should talk.
I thought I'd have him to myself, thirty thousand feet in the air, no distractions, and we could have the serious, adult conversation that we needed, before moving on.
I didn't allow for his dad getting so excited and giving him a four feet long parchment of questions to ask, I didn't allow for him being hypnotised by Jurassic Park II or Men in Black or Kimberley.
I know he's not actually avoiding me, he's just fascinated by everything, and that's endearing, it really is, but I am flying into the unknown, both with him and for my parents, and I really need to know that Ron and I are finally on the same page.
I sigh and pick up my book, only to jump as Ron rips his headphones off and turns a fierce, focused look on me.
"I'm sorry," he says. "I'm being such a coward, and hiding under these," he brandishes his headphones, "and avoiding you."
"Avoiding me?" I echo.
"I really think we should talk about things," he says. "And I thought I'd have you all to myself, hundreds of miles in the air, but it's terrifying."
"Flying?"
"No," he says. "Flying's awesome, but I know all you can think about is your parents, and I know that's the only reason we're here... but I'm a selfish bastard and I want to talk to you about... us... and I thought I'd have ten thousand miles to talk to you, but every time I try, that... that scary hostess woman pops up and interrupts and I lose my nerve."
"I'd love to talk about us," I say faintly. "For thousands of miles."
Title: Ron Watching Dinosaurs
Rating: G
Word Count: 499
A/N(optional):
The air hostess looks like Lavender.
I should be past that, by now, but I just spent a year in jeans and jumpers and danger and two inches of dirt and a tent, and her smooth and shiny hair is elegantly pinned back and her blouse is intriguingly unbuttoned and her left breast claims to be called 'Kimberley' and her legs are almost glowing in nearly nude stockings.
Does Ron know that they are stockings?
Is he thinking of thighs and suspenders?
No, that's just me.
He's a good person, and he's thinking of his dead brother and worrying about me; I'm the one being shallow and vain and comparing my thighs to the air hostess.
He's the one who blushed scarlet at the word Virgin blazoned everywhere.
We are two hours from Hong Kong, where we change planes, so our far from virgin Kimberley has been taking really exceptionally good care of Ron for ten hours. He has hung on her every word between barely removing his headphones and pushing buttons and flicking through the channels and I wanted to talk to him.
We haven't really talked talked, and I don't want to assume anything, and lord knows we've had more than our share of misunderstandings, in the past, but he's coming half way around the world for me.
But we should talk.
I thought I'd have him to myself, thirty thousand feet in the air, no distractions, and we could have the serious, adult conversation that we needed, before moving on.
I didn't allow for his dad getting so excited and giving him a four feet long parchment of questions to ask, I didn't allow for him being hypnotised by Jurassic Park II or Men in Black or Kimberley.
I know he's not actually avoiding me, he's just fascinated by everything, and that's endearing, it really is, but I am flying into the unknown, both with him and for my parents, and I really need to know that Ron and I are finally on the same page.
I sigh and pick up my book, only to jump as Ron rips his headphones off and turns a fierce, focused look on me.
"I'm sorry," he says. "I'm being such a coward, and hiding under these," he brandishes his headphones, "and avoiding you."
"Avoiding me?" I echo.
"I really think we should talk about things," he says. "And I thought I'd have you all to myself, hundreds of miles in the air, but it's terrifying."
"Flying?"
"No," he says. "Flying's awesome, but I know all you can think about is your parents, and I know that's the only reason we're here... but I'm a selfish bastard and I want to talk to you about... us... and I thought I'd have ten thousand miles to talk to you, but every time I try, that... that scary hostess woman pops up and interrupts and I lose my nerve."
"I'd love to talk about us," I say faintly. "For thousands of miles."