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Meme-age, part the third
More belated meme-age. ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
darklyscarlett asked “Where did ResGareth meet Sarah Jane, and how did he go about courting her?” Sarah Jane, as you may or may not recall, is Gareth’s lady friend, who we get a glimpse of at the end of Ties that Bind.
Gareth met the love of his new life at the supermarket. No, really. It was in the cookies and cereal aisle, where he was patiently waiting while Tor dithered back and forth between the multitude of options. It was not long after the knights had first begun to explore this new time, and Tor was only just discovering all the marvelous things that processed sugar had brought to the world.
Gareth had thought he was being generous when he told Tor that he could choose four different boxes of cereal, but Tor seemed to be having considerable difficulties with that restriction. He kept dashing back and forth, picking up boxes, staring at them, shaking them and putting them down in the wrong place. Gareth had been watching this agitated activity for at least fifteen minutes. And they hadn't even talked about the cookies yet. It was going to be a long afternoon.
Bruenor had disappeared with a multi-page list in his hands. It contained things that Gareth had never heard of, but Gareth was not particularly worried about Bruenor. He was more concerned about Bors, who had gone off with his own cart. Gareth thought he had headed to the beer aisle but wasn't quite sure. On the drive over—from what he could understand over Bruenor's rambling about all the things he was going to be cooking and Tor's gloating over the fact that Percival had been left at the house—Bors had been going on about how markets were a good place to meet women (something he'd seen on the telly), an exposition that contained a few too many references to melons and squeezing. So Ancestors knew what he was actually doing. Gareth found himself half listening for feminine screeches of outrage. Bors hadn't quite gotten the hang of how to treat modern women yet.
Tor had evidently made the hard choices, and he finally dumped a few boxes into the cart Gareth was leaning against. There were five, not four, but Gareth chose to pretend he didn't notice that. He wanted to get out of here sometime today. "Okay, now you can pick some--" he began, but Tor, no doubt feeling triumphant for pulling one over on Gareth, was already excitedly making a break toward the other end of the aisle and the cookie displays. Eyes on the prize, he managed to run headlong into another shopper's cart on his way.
Gareth sighed and went to the rescue. Tor had somehow managed to fall head first into the other cart and was flailing his legs as he tried to lever himself out. Gareth yanked Tor out by the back of his shirt and began to pick the parsley leaves out of his hair, even as he turned to the assaulted cart's owner to apologize. Modern people were touchy and Tor had ruined all her produce—the melon looked squashed and Tor had peach juice smeared on his face.
He met her eyes. Far from being angry, they were filled with laughter, and she reached out and plucked a bit of lettuce out of Tor's hair.
"Please excuse—" Gareth began, although he found himself fumbling after the words. She was not pretty, but she stood there with an easy confidence that reminded him of something. He found that he did not want to look away.
"Perhaps more sweets aren't such a good idea," she said, nodding in the direction of their heavily laden cart. Her voice was low and rich. "I hope that's not all for him."
"No. I have a lot of--brothers." Her eyes were nearly level with his, and she met his gaze with a frank directness.
Tor wiped at his face with his sleeve and looked between them a few times, but then was distracted by the prospect of cookies.
Gareth left him to it. He found he didn't much care if Tor bought too many. It was only courteous to offer to help her recollect the items that Tor had ruined, and to his delight, she agreed.
He was really hoping, though, that they did not run into Bors in the produce section.
They did not. By the time they left the market, Tor had crammed the boot with cookies (and candy bars, soda and orange juice), Bruenor had a dreamy look on his face as he studied his lists, Bors was grumbling about how that telly box thing was treacherous and not to be trusted (as he rubbed at a suspiciously red cheek) and Gareth had an invitation to dinner.
Gareth hummed to himself as he drove them back to the house.
darklyscarlett asked “Where did ResGareth meet Sarah Jane, and how did he go about courting her?” Sarah Jane, as you may or may not recall, is Gareth’s lady friend, who we get a glimpse of at the end of Ties that Bind.Gareth met the love of his new life at the supermarket. No, really. It was in the cookies and cereal aisle, where he was patiently waiting while Tor dithered back and forth between the multitude of options. It was not long after the knights had first begun to explore this new time, and Tor was only just discovering all the marvelous things that processed sugar had brought to the world.
Gareth had thought he was being generous when he told Tor that he could choose four different boxes of cereal, but Tor seemed to be having considerable difficulties with that restriction. He kept dashing back and forth, picking up boxes, staring at them, shaking them and putting them down in the wrong place. Gareth had been watching this agitated activity for at least fifteen minutes. And they hadn't even talked about the cookies yet. It was going to be a long afternoon.
Bruenor had disappeared with a multi-page list in his hands. It contained things that Gareth had never heard of, but Gareth was not particularly worried about Bruenor. He was more concerned about Bors, who had gone off with his own cart. Gareth thought he had headed to the beer aisle but wasn't quite sure. On the drive over—from what he could understand over Bruenor's rambling about all the things he was going to be cooking and Tor's gloating over the fact that Percival had been left at the house—Bors had been going on about how markets were a good place to meet women (something he'd seen on the telly), an exposition that contained a few too many references to melons and squeezing. So Ancestors knew what he was actually doing. Gareth found himself half listening for feminine screeches of outrage. Bors hadn't quite gotten the hang of how to treat modern women yet.
Tor had evidently made the hard choices, and he finally dumped a few boxes into the cart Gareth was leaning against. There were five, not four, but Gareth chose to pretend he didn't notice that. He wanted to get out of here sometime today. "Okay, now you can pick some--" he began, but Tor, no doubt feeling triumphant for pulling one over on Gareth, was already excitedly making a break toward the other end of the aisle and the cookie displays. Eyes on the prize, he managed to run headlong into another shopper's cart on his way.
Gareth sighed and went to the rescue. Tor had somehow managed to fall head first into the other cart and was flailing his legs as he tried to lever himself out. Gareth yanked Tor out by the back of his shirt and began to pick the parsley leaves out of his hair, even as he turned to the assaulted cart's owner to apologize. Modern people were touchy and Tor had ruined all her produce—the melon looked squashed and Tor had peach juice smeared on his face.
He met her eyes. Far from being angry, they were filled with laughter, and she reached out and plucked a bit of lettuce out of Tor's hair.
"Please excuse—" Gareth began, although he found himself fumbling after the words. She was not pretty, but she stood there with an easy confidence that reminded him of something. He found that he did not want to look away.
"Perhaps more sweets aren't such a good idea," she said, nodding in the direction of their heavily laden cart. Her voice was low and rich. "I hope that's not all for him."
"No. I have a lot of--brothers." Her eyes were nearly level with his, and she met his gaze with a frank directness.
Tor wiped at his face with his sleeve and looked between them a few times, but then was distracted by the prospect of cookies.
Gareth left him to it. He found he didn't much care if Tor bought too many. It was only courteous to offer to help her recollect the items that Tor had ruined, and to his delight, she agreed.
He was really hoping, though, that they did not run into Bors in the produce section.
They did not. By the time they left the market, Tor had crammed the boot with cookies (and candy bars, soda and orange juice), Bruenor had a dreamy look on his face as he studied his lists, Bors was grumbling about how that telly box thing was treacherous and not to be trusted (as he rubbed at a suspiciously red cheek) and Gareth had an invitation to dinner.
Gareth hummed to himself as he drove them back to the house.