(2018-11-10) Attitude & Gratitude
Details for Attitude & Gratitude

Summary: Mercy and Beau finally arrive safely in Mythic Wood. Mercy shows Beau how grateful she is for his help.
Rating: R
Date: November 10, 2018
Related: A Bad Night in Portland
Davis Beauregard Mercy Morgan

Civilization in the form of Mythic Wood is reached after a long drive and as the sun is rising on a cloudless morning, Beau is looking beyond road weary. It's always the morning sun after a long night's drive that will do anyone in. Its when he starts to blink and finally sees the turn off and lets out a long breath. "I am not decidedly upset I left my toothbrush." He drags his tongue to his teeth feeling the layer of scuzz on them. "Address, Merce…Merce? He chances a glance over as he begins to pull up to the first set of lights as light lances through her side of the truck and he squints.

"MERCY ME!" He calls out, trying to wake her up. "Good morning, dollface. Rise and shine…I need directions. Come on." He taps and beats out a rhythm on the steering wheel. Green. He goes.

Mercy awakens with a startled holler, throwing her hands up defensively. After a moment of bewilderment, she squints through the harsh light at Beau and lets out a heavy sigh. "Right…fuck…are we there?" Sure enough, she looks out the window to see cute little Christmas decorations on the streetlights with banners bearing the town name.

She digs out the Letter, unfolding its contents and searching with bleary eyes. "Here we go…409 Birch Street. Huh…okay, so…the shop is 409A Birch Street…but the house is 409B Birch Street. What the fuck?"

"Welcome home!" He chirps in that over extended, over tired voice as he white knuckles the steering wheel and leans into it to keep awake. "Right..and Birch street is.." he rolls down his window and quickly rolls it back up. "Nope..cold." He says and shivers, his pants are still a little damp. He begins to blink at the road signs, narrowing his gaze as they go through the main drag of town. "Merce it's probably apartments..or duplex or some nonsense." They could be driving all day but there! BIRCH! He turns the truck and down they go. It is actually not too far and he pulls up outside. "Will you look at that…" he says and glances to the buildings that are rather obviously businesses.

"This is weird…oh, look!" Mercy points excitedly toward a colorful storefront with a signboard reading: Mythic Records & Memorabilia. "Holy shit. That's my store. I have a fuckin' record store. Look out, Amazon," she adds dryly.

As early as it is, the streets are mostly deserted, only the occasional car passing, or a pedestrian taking the dog for a brisk walk down the street. So, there is parking right in front of the shop. As the truck's engine rumbles to rest, Mercy hops out and goes to press her face up to the windows of Mythic Records, peering into the darkened shop. "It's like the store that time forgot. Look at this stuff!"

Mercy peers into the precious envelope that brought their salvation to them and plucks out a key that was taped to a card inside. "Ready for some discovery?" She grins with excitement, the first genuine, untainted smile since before her nightmare began.

Beau is exhausted and so his exit is not as enthusiastic as the shops owner. He comes about the truck, shivering a little as he yawns. A yawn that seizes all the muscles in his body tight. Finally after exhaling and sounding like a beast he scratches at his neck and back of his head. He comes over and gets a look inside as Mercy starts to get the key out. "Awesome, look at that.." Oh yes, he sounds so excited. He yawns again and as she asks him if he is ready he hesitates, "Yeah…yeah let's do this as long as there is a bed somewhere I am crashing into in not too long…discover away!" He even lifts his hands and sways them about in cartoony excitement. "Yay.."

He will wait though and follow her in, giving a look back at his truck before disappearing inside. Not at all warmer - he notes to himself.

Mercy snorts at Beau's decided lack of enthusiasm as she fits the key into the lock. Her grin starts to fade as she tries to turn it. "C'mon…open up." She gives it another go before pulling the key out and looking at it. "409B," she reads what is etched into the side of the key. The address painted above the shop door clearly reads 409A. She steps back on the sidewalk and peers at the empty storefront next door: 409B. Perplexed, she goes to try the key in that door…still to no avail.

In her exhaustion it was easy to overlook the narrow stoop between the two shops with the sunken in doorway. But now it stands out as if appearing by magic. She gives Beau a shrug and tries the key in this third lock. Eureka. It opens, revealing a steep set up stairs climbing to a floor above the empty shop.

Mercy beckons Beau in after her. At the top of the stairs is just a small landing and a door on the right. The key doesn't fit, but the door opens nonetheless, unlocked. "Oh, that's safe," she quips. Inside, a furnished studio apartment appears before them. Though a bit dusty, it seems well cared for. Various treasures of the music world decorate the place, from collectors posters of Jimi Hendrix and the Rollings Stones, to an acoustic guitar signed by somebody, to a vintage record player in a beautiful wooden cabinet.

"Daaaamn…Uncle Eddie had taste!" Mercy wanders in, marvelling at the artifacts. She goes to flip on a light switch…and nothing happens. "Uncle Eddie hasn't paid the power bill. Guess being dead would make that hard."

Beau narrows his gaze in the morning light and rubs at his face when that third door he missed as well is just there. He shakes his head at her and lifts his hands in a 'ehhh' manner but if it gets them a bed he's not going to complain. He steps in after her and those narrow steps are huffed at and then up he goes, jogging a bit to catch up. Hopping up onto that landing she cover his view of what is an apartment.

"Well safe enough, the bottom door was locked.." he points out. "Besides this town looks like it would break into your house and leave you presents." He smirks a bit and once she is inside he will slip in behind her to rest back against the door. "Well …wouldn't you look at that." He is suitably impressed now, a slow grin spreading across his lips. "Now this is a pad…"

There has to be a bed somewhere, something he can just fall over on.

Mercy shivers as she exhales…and frost appears from her lips. "Fuck, it's cold in here. We have got to get the power turned back on." With some trepidation, she opens the refrigerator, then breathes a sigh of relief. "Someone cleaned it out."

The apartment seems to consist mainly of the one room that serves as both kitchen and living room. But if one turns left instead of right when entering, a short hall leads to the bathroom and…lo and behold, a bedroom with a queen-sized, four-poster bed with thick blankets and a down comforter.

"Yeah, power would be good but its bum fuck early, we could drive around and find the power company and wait outside. See if they can't get you hooked up today. Along with sewer and water…and probably want to get internet." He ticks the things off on his fingers then grumbles, "I hate moving…it's a test in patience."

He follows her though and stares at the bed, "Fuck. Yes." He will even start to push past her towards it. "Responsibility later..sleep now." He is about to faceplant onto the bed by just falling into it.

"Yeah, I'm way too tired to-…um…okay, I guess you're using the bed." Mercy chuckles at his flopping faceplant. With a sigh like a mother amused at her child's antics, she follows after him and starts to remove his shoes. "You'll get the bed all wet like this. C'mon, let's get you undressed."

"I will not be propositioned in such a way, that is my job, Doll." He is up then, realizing the error of getting his musty clothes all over the bed. She manages to get one shoe off and then is flopping about and rising to his half shod feet. He catches her arm and gets his wet ass off the bed so that he can look down at her. "Put a pillow between us..or you know if you are like cuddling I am not adverse." He says and winks at her.

He rumbles a moment. "Let's get the stuff out of the truck first. We both like our things..they are precccciooous so let's go do that." He lets go of her and reaches down for his shoe which he pulls back on. "Responsible for a moment or two longe.." he points out as she rolls his shoulders. "Besides this tug has a bit more steam in him for this task. Then I can get into dry clothes so that my boxers aren't making my ass itch." He scratches the back of his jeans to make a point before he heads for the door.

Mercy flails her hands as her attempt at a tender moment is undone. She listens as he goes on about responsibility, giving him a mildly exasperated look. "Jesus, Beau…shut the fuck up for a second." She reaches for his arm to tug him back to her, spinning him to face her so she can slip a hand behind his neck and draw him down into a sudden, heated kiss.

He is in the midst of ramping himself up to lug the gear upstairs but is caught unaware by the snag of his arm. Whipped about, his arm pinwheels out to the side and is bent forward when Mercy plants her painted lips to his mouth. If Beau could swear he would but he is quick to respond by instinct alone his arms, though not one would consider buff are strong when they wrap around her. She's squeezed against his chest and his lips press back into her own, parting as he hazards a drag of his teeth against her lower lip. But then his breath breaks the kiss and his forehead presses to her own. Eyes open to look at her mouth and then up to her. "Mercy…" His voice is low as he utters her name. It's half a question as he keeps hold of her. "What are you doing, Doll?"

Mercy's back arches, pressing her body into Beau's, letting herself be enveloped in his embrace. She is not shy about parting her mouth, her tongue teasing at his lips. When Beau finally breaks the kiss, she inhales deeply to catch her breath. "Being grateful," she says plainly. Her fingers gently stroke through the short hairs at the back of his neck. "Is there anything wrong with that?"

Control. Beau has to control himself as his hand rubs up and down her back and a little lower as he takes a deep breath as well. "Yeah? You are grateful?" There is a grin spreading to his lips but he's yet to let her go. "Nothing is wrong with that..not one bit…not at all..in fact I can not think of any reason you shouldn't be..but I am biased." He rumbles out and then brushes his nose to hers. "I also happen to think Davis Beauregard is a definite catch." He grins a bit more and leans in to steal another quick kiss. "But you don't need to thank me like this…unless you really really want to." His hand lower just to the curve of her backend but goes no further.

Mercy smirks and tilts her head at him. "You're adorable when you ramble on nervously. Listen, Beats. When have you ever known me to do anything I didn't really want to do?" Her eyebrows shoot up to punctuate the question. "Now, get your clothes off, let's get under those warm covers…" She leans in to feather her lips against his, "…and let me be grateful."

"Nervously? Oh no…not nervously…just wanting to be certain before I cross a line you might slap me for." Beau grins at her but takes her insistence for what it is. His hands glide down and grasp at the back of her legs and lifts her suddenly and without hesitation as his mouth captures her lips. He walks her back to the bed and setting her down on its edge he leans down over her to continue kissing as he undresses and prepares for her gratitude.

Some time later, as the two lay entwined and naked, Beau says breathlessly, "Fuck..Mercy sorry…should said something."

Mercy nibbles at her lower lip, chuckling softly. "It's okay…it felt good."

"I can do better," Beau promises her, "When I am not..you know..tired and .." And something. He leans down to press a kiss to her lips and then give a light tug of her hair in his fist. "You like that. Eh? Okay so…you like…other things that would make people blush. We will have to try again …" he says and buries his lips to her throat before lowering to the bed at her side. He buries his face into a pillow. "Fucking feathers..God I like this place."

Mercy turns to her side to face him, tucking one arm up under her pillow. "We have to, hmm?" She gives a coy little shrug. "Play your cards right and we'll see. Oh, and if there is a next time? We need to remember to use a condom."

"You are cruel, Mercy. Downright cruel," he says with a grin before sighing. "Right next time I will remember that I am going to have random sex with my friend after a drive that was unplanned." He boops her nose with his finger before he rubs his hands to his face. "Awww fuck the equipment. Stay here I need to lug it out of the truck." He slides out of the bed and curses at the chill while he tries to tug on damp garments. He is regretting his decision but soon hops into his shoes and heads for the door.

An involuntary frown forms on her lips. "Fine, just…don't be long." She grabs blindly for the rumpled covers and pulls them up over her naked body. In the warmth and exhaustion, she is asleep by the time Beau has returned with the first load of equipment.

"You think I am going to take any longer than is necessary in his cold ass weather in damp clothes?" And short sleeves not to mention. He huffs out a breath and soon there will be a couple of trips taken and she will even find that her records and all of her things are set to the side carefully. Only then does the door close, lock and he sheds his close again but not before tucking a pair of sweats at the end of the bed to warm up before he climbs in. He rubs his hands furiously together trying to get some warmth moved into them before he even tries to creep closer. It is then he will slip his forearm around her and bear hug her back against this chest. His face angles into her hair and breathes deeply. A sigh escapes him and he begins to relax but he may be radiating some residual chill.

Mercy shivers in her sleep as his chilly skin touches hers. Nevertheless, she moans softly and shifts comfortable back against him into his spoon. Upon the white sheets, surrounded by the diaphanous drapes on the bedposts, her golden hair tumbled about her head on the pillow, the pale metal chick looks almost angelic. Peaceful.


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