YAWP! [falc]

[Forte!]

I too am not a bit tamed, I too am untranslatable,
I sound my barbaric YAWP over the roofs of the world.

The cast was off now, but Rory hadn't actually had the time to enjoy the fact, clean the stable, or ride. This far from annoyed him, since he had other, more important things to do. He'd basically taken residence at Coal to Fire after Dorothy May had been dropped off and left, in part to help her and in part to save Roxy from further headache. He hadn't gotten much sleep lately, himself, a fact that was plain in the dark rings under his eyes. But, nonetheless, he was happier than could be expected, even now, at five in the morning, rocking the child in his lap and staring into space. She had awoken too early yet again, but was now drifting back off, hopefully for long enough that Rory himself could get a little shut-eye. As much as he loved children, he was really not in any way equipped to handle an infant twenty-four hours a day and seven days a week. He knew, too, that as soon as Z had pulled himself out of his depression, he would be relieved, probably forever, of his duties to the child. He knew that neither father nor mother was very happy with him at the moment.

Still, he was loathe to make Roxy do this all by herself. If the nature of his feelings for her had not been clear before, they were now. He cared for her more than he ever had for himself, and probably would have as soon died as have her in pain. He knew it too now, it had dawned upon him recently. He supposed that he must have always known, in one way or another. At the moment, though, he was just tired and a little bit annoyed at having been awoken so early and by such a raucous noise. Dotty was asleep, now, though, dozing with her little face pressed into his shirt. He couldn't help but grin as he looked at her, afraid to move or put her down in case she might wake up. He really was, yes, happy to be doing this. Happy to be doing anything, really, that was a distraction from the humdrum and the worry that seemed to proceed like mountains and valleys across his life.

[FalconX]

Every road I take will lead me where I belong
A silver lining is the cloud
That doesn't block my sun

Crawling out of bed, Roxy practically stumbled to her closet, her mind still shut down from lack of sleep. The worry and thoughts that kept plaguing her mind had kept her wide awake, tossing and turning, most of the night. She knew Rory was nearby, somewhere on her property. She looked at herself in the small mirror in her closet, a rosy tint spreading across her cheeks. She touched the light blush with her fingertips softly, almost in awe. Was she blushing? Or maybe she was just a little bit hot inside the wooden cabin. She shook her head, messy chocolate brown curls swinging left and right, she couldn't be blushing. Her dark eyes showed slight confusion, but she shook that off to. There was a reason for her to blush, besides, she didn't blush. She was a tomboy, didn't do girly stuff, especially blush over a-. Didn't blush over what? A guy? No, that couldn't be it. It was simple... inconceivable.

Turning away from the lying reflective glass, she pulled out a tattered pair of jeans and quickly threw on a random shirt, which proudly proclaimed that John Deere tractors were the only way to go - so to speak. She was sure that, once again, she'd slept through Dorothy May's cries in the middle of the night. Which definitely meant that Rory had, as always it seemed, got up and did whatever the baby wanted, or something. She honestly wasn't sure what to do with the baby. She didn't have a prayer, or so the saying goes. Eyes still half shut, she walked out of her bedroom, small as the cabin was, she spotted Rory, rocking with Dotty in his arms. She was finally asleep, Roxy paused, taking in his bedraggled appearance, the dark bags under his eyes attesting to the fact that he hadn't slept much lately either. She sighed, frustrated with the bleak situation. She walked towards him, bare feet padding softly on the wooden floor. She laid a hand on her best friend's shoulder and looked up at him, offering a wan smile. "I can take her, if you want to go and get some more sleep. It's obvious you need it." She murmured quietly, her gaze flickering down to the sleeping baby, she wasn't as awful as she used to be with smaller kids. Amazing what a few days could do. Not that she was anywhere as good with them as Rory.

[Forte!]

Rory didn't know that Roxy was actually awake until she sighed from across the room, but he was too tired to be startled by her sudden appearance. He shot her a weak grin from his place on her couch, looking up at her as she laid her hand on his shoulder. A little, unbidden thrill coursed through where each finger was laid, but it didn't manifest itself except in the electric pulses of his own nerves. "No, it's okay," he said quietly, looking down at Dorothy May, who still had her little face pressed into the folds of the cloth shirt, and hadn't been woken up by Roxy's approach. "If I move she'll start crying again anyway, and besides," he yawned, "I don't mind." He studied her for a moment with his head to the side slightly. "You don't look much different, I don't think. Though a good deal prettier, I have to admit." The latter statement wasn't just the product of exhaustion, either. He continued to look up at her, his eyes locked on hers for a moment as if expecting something, although he himself didn't know exactly what.

He glanced over at the clock briefly, scowling at the time. He wasn't the sort to sleep in and miss the morning, but he at least didn't want to be up before the time. "Kind of useless to go back to sleep now, anyway. I couldn't if I tried," he attempted a smile, but it was strangely sad on his features. He was happy to be here, he really was. Happy to do anything for Roxy, or for Dotty, both of whom had him wrapped around their little fingers. Rory had recently discovered that he had a fantastic memory when it came to little bits of verse or story told to him so long ago, when he was still little and dragging his mother's bag of veterinary supplies down impossibly long roads. Shaking off the thought, he looked back at Roxy, craning his neck to see her face. He didn't know what to say, really. "Oh..." he said, suddenly, breaking the silence, "Grace wants you to come over for dinner today. I mean, I think she just really wants me to come home for a little while, but she said she'd watch Dorothy May for a while, and I have to admit that it'd be nice to talk without having to get up and change a diaper or make a bottle every five seconds."

[FalconX]

Roxy nodded her head slowly at his polite refusal at her offer. She glanced down at Dotty's peaceful sleeping face. She couldn't believe how much havoc such a tiny person could wreak on two peoples lives. An almost sullen expression claimed her features. She wasn't sure how much longer she could do this. And she wasn't even doing as much as Rory was! How did anyone ever get through having a child at this age? It was ridiculous. She looked back up at Rory, and found him already looking at her. She raised and eyebrow, waiting for him to voice whatever was on his mind. At his response, she chuckled, their eyes locking for a moment, before looking back down at the sleeping child, so that her hair swung forward, hiding her slightly startled expression from his gaze. You weren't supposed to be having strange feelings for your best friend. That was the biggest cliche. And her life wasn't a cliche. So it definitely couldn't happen.

At his next comment, she shrugged her shoulders. "I know what you mean. I want so much to go back sleep, but it just isn't going to happen." She sat down on the couch, slouching back, back pressed against the cushions. She closed her eyes, her face scrunching up slightly, before she sighed, allowing her features to relax. This was way to much stress to just spring on someone. She opened her eyes when he spoke, fixing her chocolate brown eyes on his face. She smiled wryly at the mention of his sister. "Sounds great. I could use a break. It's sad really, I'm not even doing that much of the work, and I can barely get myself out of bed." She straightened up, stretching, stifling a yawn. "I almost wish I could go over to your ranch now. Let your sister take Dotty for the day." She chuckled quietly, shaking her head. She brought her legs up, circling them with her arms, curled up like a little kid, big eyes looking over at her friend. "You're my best friend, you know?" She said slowly...

[Forte!]

He didn't notice her reaction to his statement, and wouldn't have except for the fact that she lowered her head to let the hair fall across her face. It annoyed him when she did that, and she seemed to do it all too often. She was more reserved by far than himself, not liking to share what she was feeling, thinking, or what she wanted. It killed him to do the same. He watched in silence as she sat down beside him, frowning at her expression. "You're doing enough. More than, actually," he murmured at her statement, then shrugged, "she would if we asked, probably... I'll get her to do it some day and we can take a long nap." He grinned slightly, his head to one side, before letting his eyes fall to Dorothy May. "...We're really too young for this parenting thing, huh? I can't say I envy them." he said, shifting slightly so that Dotty would stop making his arm fall asleep, "she's beautiful, though." The infant was pretty much passed out now, not really aware of anything that was going on around her, but sleeping peacefully through it all without a care in the world. He envied that.

He looked up again at her next sentence, his eyes wide with surprise at the sudden proclaimation. "And you're mine," he said after a moment, quietly, not knowing what she wanted him to say. He was terrified for a moment, the little flicker of butterflies flitting around his midsection. His head was to the side slightly as he waited for something, anything, for her to say something. He wanted more than anything to just tell her, honestly, right then and there, how he felt about her. That he didn't know what it meant, if it meant anything at all. But at the same time he loved what they had, he loved the fact that she was his best friend. "Look, Roxy..." he said after a moment, rather weakly, "I love you, I want you to know that. I-I..." he paused for a moment, unable to look at her while he confessed, "I don't know what that means, or if it changes anything. I don't know if I want to to. But I love you, and it's not fair to either of us for me not to say it."

[FalconX]

Roxy fingered the soft cushions lying on the couch. Her brown eyes clouded from lack of sleep, trying to focus on anything. She tucked her hair behind her ear when she got over the slight surprise and embarrassment from what he had said earlier, straightening up more. "A long nap…" She muttered. "I think I've forgotten what that feels like…" She said with a light laugh, rolling her eyes. She refocused her gaze on her friend as he glanced down at the sleeping child. A half smile appeared on her lips at his facial expression as he watched the baby. Roxy smirked at his comment, shaking her head. "I can't imagine actually having to keep her for years and years. Yeah, we're to young." Her gaze softened on the baby at his next assertion. "Yeah, she's beautiful. And doesn't seem to really care about what's going on. Wish that was me sometimes." She chuckled, smiling fondly at Dotty, who was completely out of it, by then.

When she curled up, she thoughtfully watched her friend, eyes wide open. She wasn't sure what she wanted to say, but before she even really dwelt on it, words slipped from her parted lips. Roxy didn't know where she was going with it. She didn't even know how she wanted Rory to reply. She just said it, you know? Without as much thought, as maybe she should have put into it before just blurting it out. She pressed her lips together, and looked away from her friend. She managed a weak smile when he responded in kind. She emitted a soft sigh, almost, disappointed? It confused her, she didn't have a reason to be disappointed, but she couldn't mistake the empty feeling. At his soft words, she looked up at him, confusion showing on her face, waiting for him to speak. When he didn't look at her still, she started to become worried. Surely it wasn't that bad? When he continued, she froze, not blinking, barely even breathing. Breaking out of it slightly, she bit her lip, unsure of what to say. Did she love him too? Did he even want her to return the feelings? Now, if she had been a normal girl, she would've just replied honestly after a confession like that. But Roxy? She wasn't normal, or so she'd been told. "You're kidding right?" She said unsurely, already knowing he wasn't. "Oh my gosh, you're not joking…" She said it with an almost air of idiocy. Like she just couldn't comprehend that he l-loved her. She uncurled, standing up and began pacing. As was usual when she couldn't deal with something easily. She knew what she should say, she loved him. She couldn't imagine him not being in her life, not being her best friend. But, did she want to risk everything, their friendship, for something more? Would that even work… Slowly, and very unsurely, she walked over and sat by him, peering at him worriedly. "Uh…" She mumbled, not sure how to start. "You're my best friend…" She repeated what she had said earlier. "I never want to lose you, you know?" She bit her lip again. Fear of being crushed, fear of living in itself, showed in her eyes, she didn't want to be that open with someone. She was never good with speaking about feelings. "I-I…" She broke off again. "I love you too…" She said quickly, muttering it very quietly, so he almost wouldn't hear it if she wasn't sitting so close. "But what does that change.." She said, with a hint of bitterness in her tone.

[Forte!]

He chuckled at her comment about naps, leaning back even further into the couch. "Yeah, me too," he murmured, shifting to see her better. "Neither can I... I don't think I could do it. I can barely do this, as it is." As much as he loved children, he was far from equipped to deal with them at the moment. "Same here... Sometimes it would be just so much easier that way," he said with a lopsided grin, shrugging his shoulders slightly. "But, hey, if we didn't care we wouldn't know each other. Or, you know, anything. And that would probably get boring after a while...." It grew quiet, then, and he watched her from across the sofa. His heart threatened to beat its way right out of his chest, and the butterflies were divebombing against the walls of his stomach. Or something. It was far from a pleasant feeling. A tiny portion of his brain that told him to calm down was drowned out almost completely, although the calm insistence that this was the only right thing to do, to lay all the facts on the table, to be as frankly honest as he wished he was, was of some comfort to him. Dorothy May slept on.

He shook his head ever-so-slightly at her question, looking at his feet. Silly, he thought, that he couldn't even look at her to gauge her reaction. Silly that he actually felt guilty. It was stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She already had enough bothering her, enough bogging her down, enough to frustrate and harrow her at every turn. He knew that. And he'd just gone ahead and said it even though he knew that, in a way, he was wrong to do so. "I know..." he said at her next comment, "I know. And I'm terrified. I don't want to lose you... I don't want to lose this. But... I just can't do it, Roxy," he swallowed, hard, and looked back up at her, "I can't live with myself knowing that I never told you, that we're just drifting past one another and away from something that could be great. Or could be terrible. I don't know which, and no one can. But, the funny thing is that I don't care." His eyes were locked on hers, now.

He would have known what she'd said even if he hadn't been able to hear it, he knew that, It was too quick, too quiet, almost bittersweet, and it made him feel, paradoxically, worse. His feelings had been affirmed, but now that she'd said it he felt like there was a giant lump in his throat, almost sick. The bitterness of her next words stung, and he almost winced away from them. This was stupid! He'd known, in some terrible way, that this was going to happen. That one of them was goign to get hurt. "...I don't know..." he said, after a long, long moment, an uncomfortable one at best, "I wish I did, I really wish I did. A lot, I think.... a-and.... I don't know if it's a good thing or a bad one, or something in between...." his voice was so quiet that she probably couldn't hear him, he reflected, and broken up and fragmented. He didn't know what he needed to say. He'd hoped, foolishly, naively, that once it was said he would magically know what to do next, where to go from there. But he didn't, and he had no idea where they were headed. Probably towards an iceberg, he thought. He hated that, too. He didn't want some foolish statement, some silly little whim, some feeling (it had seemed so deep, too, so real!), to deprive him of the only friend he had left in this world.