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(no subject)

Who: Jilly Coppercorn and Lindsey McDonald
What: A bit of relaxation and conversation
When: Late, Friday Night
Where: Music Room
Rating: PG, PG-13?

Jilly was sitting with her back against the piano, sketchbook balanced on her knee. As she worked, her eyes would flicker over to Lindsey where he sat, hands moving smoothly over the strings of his guitar. It was his hands she was trying to sketch, as if she could capture the music he was making in pencil. It was familiar... and relaxing. Music and art and company. If she could ask for anything, this is exactly what she would want.

After a minute, she'll pause and stretch. "You know, I like being busy... but I think I'll be happy when Barney finds a few more people to help at the Kat."

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"You mean you don't want to be working every day for at least eight hours?"

Lindsey smirked from where he was lounging, looking up from the notebook he was writing some notes down as he tried to remember the old Eagles tune.

She returned that smirk with one of her own. "Oh, of course. Who would want to miss out on that?"

"I'd just rather it not all be in one place."

Graphite on paper. How long had it been since she'd really sat down to draw? Of course, she'd sketched here and there. She could hardly go a day without doing something. But she hadn't actually devoted time to it like this in awhile.

She wasn't even (hardly) paintspeckled any more.

She needed to start that class.

"Well, I start helping out anymore at Kat and Barney's going to have to put me on payroll."

Not that he didn't mind helping her close up most nights. It just gave them time to talk and be together. He liked being with her.

She knew he was (probably), joking, but she still arched an eyebrow at him. "I've told you you don't have to do that."

But she liked it, too, the nights that he wasn't playing at Caritas.

"I never did the full time thing back home. There's just too much else I want to do and not enough time in the day, you know?"

He chuckled. "You know I don't mind. I wouldn't do it if I didn't want to."

Thinking, Lindsey leaned forward. "You ever ask Barney for more help? I mean, tell him what you want to do, and I'm sure he'll work it out with you."

"I might. I mean, I know he would. But there isn't a lot of incentive for people to work here. It's been hard enough to fill shifts without losing another person... especially one who's still here."

She paused as she considered, thinking it over a moment longer. "I probably will, next week, after I see how much time the class will take. I guess it depends on how many people are actually interested."

Because there was always a difference between what people would say and what they would actually do.

"There's new people coming all the time. You never know. People who want to drink the coffee might be willing to help out if it means the difference of losing their addiction."

That gets a laugh. "Very true. I'll pass that on. Barney will probably like that idea."

Resting her head against the piano, she'll smile up at him. "Things seem to be going well at Caritas."

"It's nice. And I think the numbers are going up on customers. It seems to be more and more people showing up each time I perform."

He flashed her a grin. "Does wonders for my ego."

"I'll have to say something to Lorne. We can't have that."

"Well, if you really want, you can just stand outside and have people belt me with rotten tomatoes after a gig."

"Mmm... maybe we can call it art and have you stand in a gallery somewhere, afterwards."

Lindsey laughed and shook his head. "Don't think so, darlin'. I don't like standing still for too long."

She gave him a mock thoughtful look. "You're right... probably better not to. Rotten tomato is a hard smell to get rid of."

"Yeah, and would just do horrible things to my skin." He smirked, then reached over and closed his notebook.

"So what part of me you sketching?" he was curious and needed to take a break before he blistered his fingers.

She laughed. "Who said I was drawing you?" she teased. "It's the guitar I'm interested in."

Pushing away from the piano, she'll move to sit cross-legged by his chair, turning so he can see what she'd done so far, the page filled with half-finished sketches.

"I haven't done speed sketching in awhile. It's good practice."

"Guess I should be jealous of my guitar then."

He put said guitar down and slid closer to her to have a better look. "These are good. For speed sketching, you're good at capturing details."

Leaning against his chair, she moved her arm up to rest by his knee, letting him get a better look.

The compliment got a pleased smile. "Thanks. It really isn't my strong suit, but I enjoy it... especially when I have a good subject to sketch."

He got a brief, fond look before she nodded to his guitar. "Really, it's a great instrument."

"What can I say. I've got great taste."

She got a fond look right back as his hand went to play along her arm on his knee.

There was that tiny bit of tension before she reminded herself to relax. That this was safe and good and not something to worry about. Just a quick reminder and then it was nice, his touch, light on her arm.

"So... I know it's a miracle, but I do have a day off tomorrow."

"Do you now?" There was a bright smile in return. "That's a bit of good news to hear."

"Mmhmm... I was thinking of spending all day painting. You know, really get some work done." A mock pause. "Unless, of course, you could think of anything else that might be going on?"

"Well, actually..." he rubbed the back of his neck a bit. "If I got my calendar right, tomorrow's actually my birthday."

Her eyes widened as she turned more to face him. "Wait... tomorrow??? Why didn't you say something sooner?"

Lindsey just shrugged. "Didn't think about it. I haven't had cause to even think to celebrate it last few years." not like he had anyone at home to celebrate it with.