fandomtownies | The Junkyard, Friday evening

Current Mood: creative

Entry tags:

The Junkyard, Friday evening

After she had finished work at the hotel, River headed towards the junkyard instead of back to the dorms. A.J. had left a message on her voicemail, asking for them to meet in the junkyard to finally get started on the mural on the Acorn. That suited River perfectly. Anakin had helped her repair the ship the previous week, and she had promised Rose to go flying this weekend. A new mural would be perfect.

She patted the Acorn. That had become a habit, originally borrowed from Kaylee. But the ship had personality and she felt it needed to be looked after, like a pet. She opened the doors to the cargo hold and let in the light from the setting sun.

[River is here ro meet A.J.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

After being very meticulous about choosing which cans and brushes and sheets to bring, A.J. arrived, drifting through the junkyard trying to find River with a little red wagon dragging behind him with all the supplies. You'd think one wouldn't have trouble finding a spaceship, but A.J. kept getting distracted by the silhouettes of things among all the trash that would be perfect for this project or for that one, and he was wondering why he hadn't gone poking and digging around here sooner.

He smiled brightly when he found what and who he was looking for. "Hey, River! Thanks for meeting with me. So ready to do some painting."

"The Acorn is ready to be painted on," River said, sticking her head out of the door. She noticed A.J.'s black eye and raised an eyebrow. "Busy week?" She gestued for him to enter the ship.

The interior was nicely furnished with a couch, some rugs and decorative lamps from an IKEA shopping trip with Buffy.

A.J. paused a bit to draw in a slow, tentative breath. "That's one way of putting it," he said when he finally decided on how to answer that question and continued along the way toward the interior of the ship, fingers itching. He had to paint something, and it had to be something big and engrossing and removed from what was going on in his life right now. That damn spot on his wall was deciding to stay, almost as if a reminder to the whole events of the last week.

"How's the ventilation in here?" he asked.

"Painting is a good way to take things off your mind. Air recycling system is very basic and requires me to turn on the engines. I can open the emergency hatch to improve circulation." She added with a chuckle: "Need me to hit someone back for you?" She meant it jokingly; she had a good enough idea what had happened from his mind.

Grinning with shy embarrassment, A.J. covered his eye with his hand a little. "It's not that obvious, is it?" he asked. "And here I thought it was looking better. You should have seen it on Wednesday..."

River grinned back. "I would have said it suited you, but that wouldn't have been true. Have sketches?" She leaned backwards and sank down on to the couch.

A.J. smirked a little, touched that River would think that he looked better unharmed. "Yeah," he said, slightly muttering. "Something suiting you, not the same as something being what you deserve...but, anyway, yes. I have sketched." He moved to the wagon to pull out his sketchbook and tossed it over to River. "They're about halfway in, but I didn't know what I was working with, so they might need to be modified a little. Where's the canvas? I can't wait to see it." And, to prove that, he was bouncing a little.

She flipped through the sketchbook, studying the drawings. "Choose your canvas," she said. "Background meets foreground. Must merge them together, but the interpretation is yours." She looked up, smiling at him. "Which do you prefer?"

"The interpretation might be mine," A.J. said, strolling in a little to give the walls to pick from a good look over. He glanced at River with an lopsided grin from over his shoulder, "but you're the one who has to look at it. You've got to have some sort of preference. You want it closer to the entrance so it's one of the first things people see? A little in more so they're stuck having to come into your lair deeper?"

"Opposite the entrance," River replied, not needing much time to consider. She would have let him decide had he preferred that, but sharing ideas was fun. "Have to step inside, but once inside it's the first thing you see." She tapped her toes on the floor excitedly.

"Excellent," A.J. smiled as she picked where he probably would have picked. "Opposite the entrance it is." He moved back over to the little red wagon to start getting out his paints. "So, do you like the sketches? Everything meet your approval? I kind of sort of had an ocean in space sort of thing. Sea of stars, but not really, 'cause if it's a space ship, you'll already have that, so they're, like, underwater and stuff because that's the furthest thing from space, unless you go into the core and stuff. I could do lava, too, if you wanted. But I didn't bring a lot of red..."

River laughed, a warm, happy laugh. "Like the underwater idea. Am a River, after all." And she loved the sea. "The similarity is preceptible. I'll show you sometime."

"Well, yeah, there was the name thing, too," A.J. chuckled a little as he crouched in front of a bucket of paint he'd set on the floor, screwdriver out to pry it open, "but I thought that was too obvious. And what do you mean, show me?" He grunted at the effort of popping the can's lid, grinning impishly as he peeled it away. "You mean take me out in space or something?"

River grinned. "Yes. If you want." She looked inside the can, the pure paint suddenly tempting.

"I've never been to space before," A.J. said, with pure boyish glee at such a suggestion, and then slid into another grin as he spotted River eying the paint. "If you think you're not helping, you're wrong. You're totally painting this with me. And you've even seen the sketches, so you know what to do, right?"

River suddenly hesitated, still staring down into the can. "Pure potential," she said. "Not dry yet." She looked up at A.J. "Still your painting, not mine." It was a statement, but something in her voice asked for his confirmation.

A.J. tilted his head slightly as he looked up at her with a you're joking, right? sort of look. "It's a mural," A.J. said. "It's meant to be shared, in both creation and viewing. It'll be so much better with both of us combining our artist talents then just me flinging paint at it, River."

River reached out her hand and dipped the tip of her finger in the paint, then drawing red lines with it on her other hand. "You tricked me!" she said, then began to laugh. It was different working on a painting together with someone, less lonely.

She got up from the couch and began to rummage through A.J.'s brush collection.

"Tricked you?" A.J. asked, laughing as he dropped the stir stick into the paint and began to mix it. "How did I do that?"

"Said you were going to paint it," River said, dipping a brush in one can, then another brush in another and mixed the colours on one of the lids. "Not that you required assistance. Trying to get me to start painting again?" she asked with a teasing tone in her voice.

"Wasn't my intention," A.J. said, honestly, and smiling brightly. "But now that you mention it...." His grin broadened a little as he lifted the stick, letting the paint trail back down into the can as he took a good look to see if he was satisfied with the consistency. Finding it such, he set the stick in the wagon, straightened, and then carried the bucket over to the wall. "You don't have to," he added as he dipped his brush in, "if you don't want to. I just figure it would be more fun for you to help, instead of just sitting and watching."

He was right, River had to admit. It was more fun, and none of the pressure she felt from herself that her painting should mean something. The meaning of this came from sharing something with a friend, and that was important enough. "More fun," she replied, placing the brush against the wall and drawing the contours of a rock at the bottom of the sea.

Smiling, A.J. watched River a moment as she went to put brush to wall, and then he turned toward his own part of the mural, with a great sweep of his arm over his head to slather on a nice arc of a rich blue. "See?" he said. "If I tricked you, I tricked you only for good."

River giggled and attempted to add a red dot to A.J.'s face.

A.J. had no way of knowing River's intentions until she was right there, paintbrush in his face, and he suddenly flailed back in a clumsy, last minute attempt to avoid her, laughing. "You're doing it wrong, River! Paint the wall, not the A.J. A.J.'s face doesn't need improvement."

Except maybe in that black and blue shiner, but that was beside the point. Red wasn't even his color.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject