Rolling In It | Ishtar/Lincoln

[Burton Alfred Harper Jr]

Alfie knocked curtly on Lincoln Harper’s door, three sharp clicks on the wood. He hadn’t alerted his cousin of his move to the town, feeling that might ruin the pleasant surprise of his turning up on his doorstep. It wasn’t exactly imposing himself on Lincoln as he had already bought an apartment locally, but he couldn’t deny a major attraction of moving here was in seeing the reaction, whatever it may be, of Lincoln to his appearance. As with most of their family (excluding a few who were generally forgotten) Lincoln’s family ensured that he would do well no matter what, yet his psychiatric work evidently kept him more than comfortably.

Alfie dug his hands into his pockets, as he rocked back and forth on his heels waiting for Lincoln to answer. He hadn’t seen his cousin in a good six years. Around the time he had left university and the psychiatrist had moved to America. He hadn’t come to Burton’s funeral two years ago, but it wasn’t to be blamed on him. His mother had insisted on sending the invites to the funeral by hand and Lincoln whether he had wanted to come or not didn’t find out his uncle had died in time to book a flight. Or so he claimed, and Alfie was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt this time.

He was wearing an outfit of a surprisingly casual nature that afternoon; white shirt, open at the collar with a brown tweed jacket over the top, blue jeans and matte black shoes and, eyes too dry for contacts that day, he wore heavy framed glasses as he stood before the door. He tended to allow two minutes on a house call before leaving it, but it was a practise without much thought put in as his valet would normally call ahead to warn of his imminent arrival.

He checked his watch impatiently. He should really shorten the time he allowed for such matters as waiting. Two minutes was evidently too long a period to permit his time to be wasted. Not that he had anywhere to be in this instance, he had cleared a complete hour in his schedule for this visit damn it and if his blasted cousin wasn’t in...

Words 378
Notes Harper time
Muse Nagasaki – Hugh Laurie (J&W Soundtrack)
Outfit Clickyyy

[lincolnharper]

A knock at the door.

Scowling to an empty room, Lincoln set down his book. He was in an irritable mood...oh, who am I kidding, he was always in an irritable mood, he took his sweet time getting to the door, in the hopes that whoever it was would go away. Pinching the bridge of his nose and shutting his eyes, walking blindly to his heavy wooden front door, years of practise made the task simple, he knew exactly where to walk to not run into the solid bookcase in the front hallway, he’d kicked himself on it often enough to take extra care to avoid it in the dark.

Finally reaching the front door...god, he hoped it wasn’t a salesman or something of the sort, not that he wouldn’t have any fun in his attempts to get them to piss off, but he just really couldn’t be bothered right now. Throwing it open, just as Watson decided to come running past the man in the doorway’s legs, proceeding to wrap himself around Lincoln’s ankles with an affectionate purr. “My my, look what the cat dragged in,” he said drily, eyebrows raised slightly as he took in the cousin he hadn’t seen in years standing on his doorstep.

Okay, perhaps he tended to avoid family meetings. The funeral of his uncle actually hadn’t been his fault, the one time he had considered actually going and he couldn’t book a flight. Not that his aunt had really believed him, but oh well, that wasn’t his problem. Leaving the door wide open, picking up the fluffy white Persian and tucking him under one arm, he headed back up the hallway, stopping after a few strides to look back at Alfie.

“Well, are you coming in or not? And, shut the door behind you, people are going to start to think I’m losing my touch, letting people in like this.”

Tagged Alfie/Arty
Words 317
Outfit Coming later
Muse Funkytown - Lipps Inc.
Notes One reply. Far too early in the morning for template making, will prettify it later =P

[/size]

[Burton Alfred Harper Jr]

Something had flashed through Alfie’s legs before he had even noticed the door open. At least it had opened; he had been on the verge of calling a cab and informing Logan that if he wasn’t within five feet of Alfie in the next fifteen minutes he was fired. An empty threat both of them knew whenever he chose to utter it, but the valet had never failed yet in making it before his deadline. He looked down automatically, and spotting only a feline rather than... well, he wasn’t wore what he had thought it was, returned his gaze back up to where a dark haired man, a couple of years is senior stood.

“You know what I love about our family, cousin? The exclamations of joy at seeing one another after prolonged periods of not a word being heard from either side of the pond.” He slipped past Lincoln, shrugging his jacket from his shoulders and walking through the house, glancing into a few of the open doors to look for a living room. He reached a room that looked lounge-like and threw his coat over a chair, picking up the book that had clearly been abandoned recently, “David Copperfield. Or should I say ‘The Personal History, Adventures, Experience and Observation of David Copperfield the Younger of Blunderstone Rookery (which he never meant to publish on any account)’? Never really did like Dickens.”

Literature wasn’t exactly Alfie’s passion. The thousands of essays on Dickens, Shakespeare, Stephenson, Keats and Burns over his years at private schools had killed the ‘great’ British authors and poets for him. He had only gone through a year of media studies which hadn’t been enough to destroy his fervour for classic film and television. He thumbed through the pages swiftly; he hadn’t read the book in twelve years or so, although he still owned a desecrated copy full of notes, doodles and messages to classmates on the back page. Now he thought about it, that book possibly was meant to have been handed back in.

He turned back to Lincoln who had followed him through, the novel still in his hands, “I’ve got fifty-two minutes, by the way. Roughly.”

Words 353
Notes Sorry about the minor godding, of having Lincoln follow him through, feel free to make scathing comments in relation to Alfie’s making himself at home. My muse did a runner.
Muse I Guess You’re Right | The Posies
Outfit Clickyyy

[lincolnharper]

Lincoln let out a soft snort, loud enough that Alfie would be able to hear it, however. His younger cousin brushed past him, peering into various doors up the hallway until finally finding the living room, making himself at home without any prompting from Lincoln himself. He expected that, however, he hadn’t seen Alfie in years but of course he could remember exactly what his relative was like. “They only mask the cries of agony.”

He set Watson down on the floor outside the living room when he started wriggling, obviously he wanted his food dish, not affection right now. “Ungrateful animal, leaving me here to fend for myself,” he muttered. Yes, he had the habit of talking to his animals, he found they were less likely to talk back and they irritated him a hell load less than the human species did. And, he had to talk to someone while he was in the house, since he didn’t live with anyone else.

He shook his head at Alfie, entering the living room. “You obviously don’t read enough. And no, the newspaper doesn’t count, leaves nothing to the imagination,” he answered, seating himself in one of the vacant armchairs, blue eyes watching Alfie with mild amusement.

“Fifty two minutes, really? Am I meant to be overjoyed that you managed to clear a whole fifty two minutes in your schedule just for me?”

Tagged Alfie/Arty
Words 232
Outfit Coming later
Muse Love This Pain - Lady Antebellum
Notes Eh, couldn't muster up enough muse for that.

[/size]