[Oh, it's that kind of call. Fiona doesn't comfort people very well, that's not her scene, and it's surprising to her that McCree would actually ring her up for this purpose. But she likes him, so she'll do her best; she quickly shifts gears, turning the lilt off in her voice.]
Yeah, I can do that. Do you need someone with you? I can stop by.
Hey, I'm so bored that I'm polishing my boots. That's not a euphemism, I'm literally polishing my boots. You're fine, McCree. [Not FOINE, but he's not imposing on her.] So, talk.
[This human quality called "confusion"? Yes, she is aware of it. She bites back a sarcastic response; she hears the ice, figures he's drinking his sorrows away, and decides to try her hand at being nice. It doesn't come easily, but he reached out.]
Sometimes. Usually I either sort them out eventually, or I drag my feet long enough where it stops mattering in the end. Is this something like that?
[NEAT................ it takes her a second to process this, like maybe she misunderstood... ssssomething? Along the way?? She kind of wants to tell him to screw off for leading her on, but she's a grown up. She'll sulk about it later.]
So not like that. [That was more sarcastic than she meant; she's less grown-up than she likes to think. After taking a second to take the bite out of her tone,] What do you mean, "ain't exactly"? He said...?
[ McCree's so drunk and in his own head that he doesn't quite notice the slight hostility here, though he does catch a notion that she's none too pleased to be hearing about this. But they're on this train now, so it's just gonna keep rolling. ]
I b'lieve it was something about likin' me very much.
[ He rubs his face with one hand, sighing, making the next words muffled. ]
[Oh, my god. This man is a child. Fiona huffs a bit, then there's the sound of her dropping her boots to the floor so she can wriggle into them.] One second. I'm not talking to you about this over ECHO.
[She hangs up on him then, which is maybe... rude... but whatever, she is kind of rude. The jewelcomm tells her where he's holed up, so it doesn't take her too long to waltz in, hands on her hips.]
[ LISTEN, HE'S JUST ... he's having a hard time right now. He looks up at her sheepishly when she comes into the kitchen; takes off his hat; raises his glass.
He's a little bit flushed. ]
Howdy, Miz Fiona. Awful nice of you to make a house call.
[ He takes a long drag of the tumbler in his hand. ]
Lemme put it plain. I love a man, and he ain't sure yet how he feels about me. It's troublesome, s'all.
[She might need a drink herself in a minute; he looks good with that little bit of heat on his skin, it's very distracting. She takes a second to just stand there, looking at him, then sighs and comes closer so they're not shouting across the kitchen at each other.]
He said he likes you a lot, right? That's not so bad. [She just goes ahead and pours herself a drink, mostly to have something to do.] Only way to go from there is up.
[ He would've poured one for her if she hadn't taken initiative; he's already feeling mighty chagrined over having called her at all. He sighs into his cup. ]
Ah, I know it. Might could be I'm overreactin'. It's just--an imbalance. Y'know what I mean?
[Feelings are stupid, just trying to get him to see things her way. The healthy way. Which involves joking about anything remotely serious.]
Well. I don't think that's exactly fair. [She swirls the whiskey in her glass, peering at McCree carefully.] You're a good man, McCree, and I think you deserve to be with someone who appreciates that.
[ He's always inclined to argue the 'good man' point, but he figures he's putting Fiona through enough right now. So he just smiles half-heartedly, shaking his head. ]
That's real kind of you to say, Miz Fiona.
[ He runs a hand through his thick hair, sighing. ]
Don't suppose this sorta thing has ever come down to what's fair and what's not, though.
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mystery ghost
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But he's had a lot of whiskey. ]
I just--ain't feelin' so hot. And you're easy to talk with. So I thought I might ring you up and maybe talk a little. If that's fine with you.
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Yeah, I can do that. Do you need someone with you? I can stop by.
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[ He's in the kitchens ... still drinking. ]
And, look, if I'm oversteppin', you can feel free to say so.
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There's the sound of ice clinking against a glass. ]
I got a bit of trouble, that's all. Something I'm trying to work out right in my mind, but it ain't doing. You ever had that kind of problem?
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Sometimes. Usually I either sort them out eventually, or I drag my feet long enough where it stops mattering in the end. Is this something like that?
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He knows he's beating around the bush, here. Best just come on and be direct with the matter. ]
I got somebody here, see. I love'im.
[ Ice clinking. ]
But it ain't exactly reciprocated.
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So not like that. [That was more sarcastic than she meant; she's less grown-up than she likes to think. After taking a second to take the bite out of her tone,] What do you mean, "ain't exactly"? He said...?
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I b'lieve it was something about likin' me very much.
[ He rubs his face with one hand, sighing, making the next words muffled. ]
Nothing beyond that.
=> action
[She hangs up on him then, which is maybe... rude... but whatever, she is kind of rude. The jewelcomm tells her where he's holed up, so it doesn't take her too long to waltz in, hands on her hips.]
Okay. Start over.
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He's a little bit flushed. ]
Howdy, Miz Fiona. Awful nice of you to make a house call.
[ He takes a long drag of the tumbler in his hand. ]
Lemme put it plain. I love a man, and he ain't sure yet how he feels about me. It's troublesome, s'all.
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He said he likes you a lot, right? That's not so bad. [She just goes ahead and pours herself a drink, mostly to have something to do.] Only way to go from there is up.
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Ah, I know it. Might could be I'm overreactin'. It's just--an imbalance. Y'know what I mean?
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Yeah, I do. It sucks, but what's the alternative? [She pauses and makes a joke, trying to lighten the mood.] You could take it back.
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Ah--ahuh. Hah. That's real cute, sweetheart. Nice bit of levity.
[ He shakes his head. ]
Naw, that ain't the kinda card you can just flip over. I'm gonna have to sit tight, I guess.
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Well. I don't think that's exactly fair. [She swirls the whiskey in her glass, peering at McCree carefully.] You're a good man, McCree, and I think you deserve to be with someone who appreciates that.
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That's real kind of you to say, Miz Fiona.
[ He runs a hand through his thick hair, sighing. ]
Don't suppose this sorta thing has ever come down to what's fair and what's not, though.
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Not really. You just have to decide if it's worth it to stick around, or if you want to cut your losses. But it'll hurt either way, can't help that.