Dallas: The Murphy Residence
It's Tuesday night… or rather, it was. Now that it's 2am, it can more accurately be described as Wednesday morning. Skylar, for his part, hasn't slept. He is at his house, as he has been for the past several hours, most of the lights on, if only because he forgot to turn them out. When the scene opens, the smith is in one of the 'bedrooms' of the house, which has been converted into a study of sorts. There's some hanging bookshelves on the walls, mainly with books on either smithing or religion. In one corner is a desk with a laptop, while against another wall is a large drafting table. It is here that Sky is currently sitting, working on his latest design.
—-
Two A.M. is a time that Paige is quite familiar with. Not only because it's usually in the middle of her 'work day' when she's out in the field, but because even after, when she's off season, sleep never seems to come easily. Part of it is her natural inclination, part of it is the after effects of the pharmacueticals in her system. But regardless, it's two A.M. and Paige's car is pulling up outside of the Murphy residence. Not that she gets out right away. No. She sits for a while, looking out of the passenger side window towards the house filled with lights. It takes perhaps five minutes, a bit longer, before she finally steps out of the car, closing the door behind herself, before she moves around to the passenger side, retrieving a travel-cup holder, the cardboard sort you find at most stores, and sticking a bag on top of it, before she starts off towards the front door. Once there, it's just a simple matter of juggling to free up a hand to ring the doorbell.
—-
There's light music playing off his laptop, and Skylar's sort of in the zone, designing, so it takes him a moment to realize someone is at the door. He pauses, rubbing at his eyes, and glancing at the clock. That's… somewhat unusual. But, he puts down his pencil, stands up, and heads downstairs for the front door, rubbing at his back as he does so. When he opens the door, he seems a bit surprised to see Paige standing there with… goodies? But in a pleasant sort of way. "Paige? Well… hello. How have you been?" He doesn't seem to think to question her as to -why- she's coming to call at 2am.
—-
Paige waits patiently, once the bell has been rung, seeming comfortable on the front step. She does track the man's movements, however, once she can see him through the windows that look in on the front hall, her smile bright, as the door opens. She offers the drinks first, and the bag on top of it, before she answers the greeting, "I thought you might like a late-night snack." No, she doesn't seem that forthcoming about why she's up at this time of night, nor why she decided to grace the blacksmith with her insomniac presence. "I hope you like coffee. And fresh apple tarts."
—-
"I'd be crazy to say no," Skylar replies with a light, crooked grin as he opens the door wide for Paige to come in. Taking the offered goodies, he says, "I swear, you must be hungry. I've been working all night, could definately use the break." Once she's inside, he closes the door, and leads the way into the kitchen, placing the treats on the table. "Wow, they smell real good. Thank you, Paige," he says, pulling out a chair for her, all gentlemanly, smiling broadly at Paige.
—-
"Crazy, or just practical," is Paige's answer, as you accept the coffee and tarts, stepping inside, and to the side to allow you to close the door, "I seem to be up at this time of night a lot lately, so I've been cooking to pass the time. You missed beef stroganoff. That was last night, but I have a ton of leftovers in the freezer. Spent so many years cooking for a large family, I only know family sized recipes. And you're welcome." Into the itchen she goes, offering a, "Thank you," as you pull out the chair for her, "I didn't know if you took cream and sugar, so that's in middle of the tray under the bag. What've you been working on?"
—-
"Preaching to the choir. I never had anything - but - leftovers in my house. I mean, it was just me, my mom, and my sister at home, but we were constantly at family gatherings, and always took more then our share home with us, or else Grams would stop by with food, since she's the same way as you." Skylar smiles wistfully as he sits down in his chair, opening up the coffee lid of his cup and pouring in several packets of sugar (but careful to leave at least an equal ammount for Paige just in case she likes a little coffee with her sugar as well). "One of my latest orders. Been kind of in the zone, so was afraid to sleep in case I lost it. Want to get the rough drafts done soon, since I'm gonna be needing to start at least one other custom job soon."
—-
Paige reaches for the other cup of coffee, listening, more than she's doing anything else, as if the sound of a familiar voice was a soothing thing, this time of night. "Well, you'd have a field day at my house, I always have more food in the fridge than I could eat in a week, and I'm always willing to load up whomever comes by for thr trip home." Though, there's something in the tone of her voice that indicates that that doesn't happen all that often. But once she hears what you've actually been working on, she puts back the cup of coffee unopened, "I should let you get back to work them. I'd hate for you to lose your train of thought and have your work suffer." The soft sound of wood on floor follows, as she pushes her chair back from the kitchen table.
—-
Glancing up from stirring his coffee, Sky shakes his head, offering a smile. "No, please, stay. My brain needs the distraction, if only for a little while. For my sanity, if nothing else." Putting the lid back on his coffee, he takes a sip, nodding his approval. "Much better," he says. He stands up, moving to grab two plates from the shelf. Coming back to the table, he places one in front of Paige, then sits back down with the other being put down in front of him. "At least stay to enjoy this with me?" he offers, smiling brightly at her.
—-
"Alright, if you're sure that it won't interrupt your work." But she does settle back into her chair, retrieving the coffee and adding both cream and sugar, though not nearly as much sugar as you did, "I sometimes forget that not everyone has the same schedule as I do. Or the same sort of flexible work. I guess when you can come and go as you please, you start to think everyone lives the same way." As you move to get the plates, Paige retrieves the bag, waiting until you set the plates down, before she removes one tart for each plate, though it's unlike, from the way the bag sits, that there're only two in there. Still, she's careful, using a piece of wax paper so she doesn't get her fingers on the tarts. Once the paper's crumpled up, she does rise again, "Do you mind if i wash my hands?"
—-
"Of course not. Mi casa and all that," Skylar says in response to Paige's request to wash her hands. "Should be liquid handsoap at the sink," he says, gesturing towards the kitchen sink. "And if not, the bathroom is right down the hall." Which also might be his descreet way of letting her know where the bathroom is in case she needs to use it at any point. "And, trust me, I know what you mean about the schedule. When I first started my business, it was just me, so I often worked some of the oddest hours." If it weren't for Jill, that first year would have been completely out of hand, schedule wise. "I've had to adjust since we've expanded, and I have employees that have lives, unlike myself. So, I do what I can. It's still hard, though."
—-
"Thank you," Paige offers, as she moves off towards the kitchen sink. While she does appreciate the subtle bit of information, she seems content to not impose more than she has already, and the kitchen sink and the soap there work well enough. Soap, water, and the hand towel close to the sink, before she heads back to the table, settling back into her seat, "It must be a wonderful thing, though, to do what you love. To have that freedom. Even if it does come at the expense of normal operating hours."
—-
"It is. I'm very lucky, which is why I try not to complain overmuch," Skylar says, smiling, before he pauses to take a big bite out of the pastry. Once the bite is swallowed, his eyes slightly widening at the deliciousness, Sky says, "Wow, Paige, this… is amazing." So at least on par as the home cooking he was used to once upon a time, then. "What about you?" he asks curiously. "Do you love what you do?" He doesn't seem to be implying anything at all - rather, he's quite honestly curious.
—-
"Thank you. I've been working on perfecting some of the recipes my Mom sent me from home. Although I still have to use Pillsbury biscuits. I just can't make them turn into anything but burned approximations of hardtack when I try to make them from scratch." Paige seems content to allow you to eat, hands curled around her coffee cup. Better that than picking apart a tart and then having it go to waste. "It's work. It's, I suppose, what I went to school for. And I suppose i should be glad that I actually get to work in my field."
—-
"Well, that wasn't exactly what I asked," Sky points out with a small smile. "Well, let's try a different question. If you had the option to do anything, -anything-, what would it be? What would make you wake up in the morning, happy to go to work, even if you were suffering from a cold and a headache and just all around bad luck? Cause for me? That's my job. It's something that has helped me through alot, and it's my passion. What are you passionate about?" Probably heavy conversation for two in the morning, but, hey, perhaps there is no better time. Either way, Sky falls silent, letting Paige mull that over while he takes some more bites out of the delicious pastry.
—-
"I know what you were asking, Skylar." There's a slight edge to Paige's tone. The coffee is set aside once again, and this time, when Paige rises, there's something definite in it. "Despite what you might think, English actually -is- my first language. And if I don't answer a question quite the way you might want me to, you might consider that there's a reason why." Paige takes a moment, and a deep breath, before she nods, "I'd better get back to the house. And you should get back to what you were working on. I shouldn't have come over to begin with."
—-
Skylar puts down the pastry, mid bite, swallowing as he listens to Paige. His usual smile slides off his face, and he nods, rising as she does. "I… of course." He pauses, frowning to himself, before offering an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, Paige. It wasn't my place." He doesn't offer any excuses, merely turns to walk her to the door. He does offer, as he does so, "Thank you for stopping by, though, and thank you again for the pastry."
—-
Paige's expression remains just slightly off from neutral, but she also doesn't offer any excuses, or an apology, for that matter, though she does counter with, "I can see myself out." Which she turns to do, her height making it easy work to bridge the distance between the kitchen and the front door. "You're welcome. It was nice to have met you, Skylar." A hand to the door, a moment to open it, and Paige steps out, walking back away from the house and towards her truck.
—-
Skylar sighs, shaking his head as he watches her walk out. "Well, good to see your luck hasn't changed any in the last five years, Sky," he says to himself, turning to clean up the kitchen. Then, it's back to work, hoping that he hasn't lost his train of thought. Which he probably has.
