fandomtownies | The Park, Sunday Afternoon

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The Park, Sunday Afternoon

It was a Sunday, winter was on the way, and Jono didn't exactly have anything else to do with his afternoon. Therefore, it was time to meet Jean in the park to make the best of what was left of the nice weather before the winter slog could show up and hit with a vengeance.

Or whatever it was that winter did around here. Jonothon didn't exactly have a wealth of American winters behind him, after all.

So there he was, kicking a ~~soccer~~ football around, waiting for that redheaded bird to show up so that he could kick her arse at footie again.

[For that redheaded bird, but open park is still open!]

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"Hi, Jono!" And there was the ginger bird, jogging on up to join him.

//Afternoon, gel,// Jono greeted, and there he went, kicking the ball toward her already. Footie waited for no one. //I trust yer've been well, lately?//

"Oh yes," Jean replied, stopping the ball before kicking it back. "We're organizing a dinner for people who can't go home on Thanksgiving."

//Sounds like quite th'ordeal. Yer figure there'll be a few takers, then?//

Jono stopped the ball and then kicked it upward, bumping it toward her off his forehead, this time. He probably wouldn't be attending that dinner for two reasons. First, because he didn't eat. Second? Because it wasn't his holiday.

Well, unless somebody asked nicely. He was also a pushover.

Oh, like Jean wouldn't use her powers for evil and ask him to join them with big puppy eyes. She was a cruel person like that.

"I think so. I mean, it's expensive to go home for some people." And some couldn't go home.

Stopping the ball with her chest--ow--Jean grinned and bounced it back up in the air with the top of her foot.

There was nothing like a set of puppy eyes to convince Jonothon that he totally ought to sit around watching a bunch of people happily eating while he couldn't. Maybe if they asked him to bring his guitar, or something...

//Between airfare and portal fare, hm? I suppose it adds up quickly enough.//

Jono was not silly enough to try to stop the ball with his chest. He was shouldering it back her way, instead.

Well she was clearly more hardcore on the sport.

"And it'll be fun," Jean replied, letting it get past her before turning round to catch the ball.

Hardly. She just had more chest than he did.

Literally.

//Yer don't say?//

Stand firm, Jono! Try! For at least another thirty seconds! You can do it!

"Totally," Jean said pointedly, kicking the ball back to him.

... Bugger.

//When was that holiday, again?//

"The 26th!" Jean replied brightly. "It'll be fun. You could--bring your guitar!"

//Th'26th,// Jono echoed, and that was followed with a bit of a projected sigh as well. //That's a Thursday, right? No classes that day, then?//

Duh, Jono.

"Well, no. It's Thanksgiving. Duh."

And now Jono was fixing Jean with his best 'bitch, please' look while he ran after the ball. Both at once! He could multitask!

//I'm British, Jean. Yer really expect me t'be on top of this?//

"Well, it's a big deal here, so you can have fun celebrating with us Americans."

Americans were weird, though!

//... Yer said I ought t'bring my guitar? Where is this dinner being held?//

Jean: 1. Jono: Nil.

"We're still working that out, but I'll let you know when that happens!"

//Well, so long as there's an outlet for my amp,// he decided, charitably.

If there wasn't one, then he'd have to invest in a shiny new acoustic.

Because clearly, him needing to get himself another guitar had him so heartbroken.

He kicked the ball back toward her once again.

"I'll make sure." Jean stopped the ball with her foot, grinning far too much at this victory. "It'll be fun, I promise."

//But I'm only going to play British rock,// Jono added. It was his best attempt at being stubborn yet!

The moment somebody made a request, that was going to be tossed to the wayside, too.

"Of course." Oh, she was gonna request John Mayer.

And then Jono would play the best damn Free Fallin' that she'd ever heard.

... If she asked really nicely, he might even attempt to sing softly enough that his 'voice' wouldn't sound too mismatched with the guitar.

//Good. Just so long as we've reached an understanding.//

They so hadn't.

They never would considering their vastly different tastes in music.

"How is everything for you then?" Jean asked, jogging over with the ball.

//Everything is a pretty broad sort of question,// Jono noted. //I'm still on fire, I'm still attending boarding school in America. I'm still sharin' a room with a barmy plonker wot doesn't see any issues with leaping out of windows...//

Oh, he could go on forever about that. And ever, and ever.

//I'm not in love with Raven, I am rather fond of Didi, and I need t'start coming up with ideas for dates that don't involve eating out.//

That about covered it, for now.

"You could try bowling," Jean suggested thoughtfully. "No food there."

//I suppose there's that,// Jono mused, making another run to take the ball. //Even if th'shoes are bloody ridiculous. And then there's the cinema, and Didi doesn't seem t'mind record shopping with me...//

Though the options were pretty limited on such a small island, once you knocked off the 'dinner and' part of the traditional date.

"You could go for a walk." Jean, don't swoon. "Those can be romantic."

Well, swooning would totally make footie into a challenging sport, wouldn't it?

//Yer figure?// He glanced around the park. //I suppose so long as th'ducks don't have any problem with it...//

The ducks were evil little beasts.

"Maybe the beach?" Omg like in the movies!

//This time of year, the beach is bound to get a little chilly, don't yer think?//

Silly Jono. That's where you cuddled for warmth. Duh.

"Soon it'll be cold, so if you do it before it gets too bad..." Enable him, Jean. Enable!

//A walk on th'beach...// Actually, he wasn't seeing any flaws in this plan at all.

Huh.

//I might have to, then. I mean, if th'opportunity knocks before winter sets in.//

"See, you just needed a girl's advice." And since Jubilee wasn't there to mess with him...

She bounced the ball on her knee, grinning at him.

//I have to say, I trust yer advice more than that of some gels I know...//

Jubilee's advice would be a dangerous, dangerous thing to take. Paige's too, come to think of it.

//Thank yer, luv.//

"What are friends for?" Other than getting people into trouble. Or having inappropriate crushes on, even though they are just totally friends and he probably doesn't even like her like that and oh my god, Scott was so dreamy.

...what?

//Yer mean aside from driving one another absolutely mad?//

He kicked the ball at her, smirking somewhere in the corners of his eyes.

"Besides that," Jean shot back, shifting to stop the ball with her foot and finding that suddenly a bit difficult.

Because she rather abruptly didn't have normal feet. And there were feathers. Can't forget the feathers.

... Bloody hell, Jean was about to get flattened by a football. Because she was a bird.

Why the hell was Jean a bird? What was the meaning of this!?

And so there went Jono, making a nose-dive to tackle the ball before it could smack into the little... red...

//What the naffin' hell, Jean?//

... bird... thing.

The bird made a slightly pitiful squawk and fluttered away from the ball, settling on a nearby park bench.

And not at all having a panic attack.

SHE WAS A BIRD. WHY WAS SHE A BIRD?

//Why are yer a bird?!// That certainly seemed to be the question of the hour, didn't it?

Jono made his way over to the bench, carefully, narrowing his eyes as he inspected the very colourful Jeanbird. And then, seeing very little in the way of alternatives, here, he held out his arm and stepped closer. Perch? Perch that was not park bench?

//Either yer've officially gone and driven me off my bleedin' onion, or else...// Or else what, Jono? //... It's probably temporary. I hope it's temporary, at least.//

IF SHE KNEW WHY SHE WAS A BIRD, SHE WOULDN'T BE A BIRD.

That mad total sense when you were freaking out, really.

There was a moment or two of flapping her wings and examining the feathers and feet and oh god, she really was a bird before she hoped slightly closer to the offered arm.

And then a bit closer.

//At least yer a pretty bird,// Jono attempted, leaning over and putting his arm right in front of her. Easier access, no flying necessary. //Yer could have turned into an emu, gel. Or a vulture.//

You were so not helpful, Jonothon.

//If yer shite on my coat, I'll never forgive yer.//

One more hop and she was clinging to his arm like a lifeline. And um, ew. Like she'd be a vulture. She wasn't bald, you know.

Jean squawked again indignantly at the comment on his coat.

And Jono rolled his eyes at the squawk.

Hey, he wasn't the one who had turned into a bird, here!

//Fine, fine. Football game called on account of pheasant.// Or whatever. //Back to th'dorms, then?//

What did red mystery birds eat, anyhow?

Jean ruffled her feathers and tried for the bird equivalent of a put upon sigh. This was such a horrible day now.

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The Park, Sunday Afternoon

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