LOG: Terry & Adrienne

[x-siryn.livejournal.com]

Terry and Adrienne chat about what brings Terry back. And about their communication skills.


Vanessa’s return had killed Adrienne’s resolve about being a non-smoker, and she was actually smoking more now than she had in years. On the other hand, at least it meant she was outside more often? Sitting on the railing of the smoker’s porch, she surveyed the fall foliage around the grounds as well as the struggling potted plants she’d been trying to nurture but had been neglecting lately what with having spent a lot of her time until recently in the city. With a frown, she jumped down from the railing and knelt in front of one of the pots, poking at it. “Oh, come on,” she scolded in a stern tone. “You’re stronger than this, you can’t just die. I don’t want to have to call Callie to fix you, but I will, y’know.”

Terry stepped outside, not to smoke, but just trying to get a bit of sun on her face before disappearing into the City to spend the day long at a desk reviewing information and giving her own. Adrienne’s voice drifted up over the railing and captured the redhead’s attention. She drifted to the railing and leaned over, a small smile creeping onto her face after spotting the voice’s owner. “Och, aren’t you a right bully, threatening poor defenseless plants?”

Adrienne’s head snapped up at the sound of Terry’s voice. She’d seen on the journals that she was back but hadn’t gotten a chance to welcome Terry back herself. “Hi!” she exclaimed happily, getting to her feet. “I heard you were back! Come to nurse your husband through the Red Sox horrible end-of-season collapse?”

Terry’s smile twisted a little at the mention of Bobby, but she merely rolled her eyes and sighed, “He seems to be doing enough nursing o’ his own. Was halfway through a pisser when I got in meself.” Her smile widened in response to Adrienne’s happiness and she leaned her elbows on the rail and grinned.

The twisty look wasn’t lost on Adrienne, but she didn’t comment on it. “So to what do we owe this honour then, if it wasn’t to nurse Bobby through baseball woes? Did you just get tired of rain and green-ness and your castle?” she asked with a smirk.

“M’castle is a keep,” Terry corrected primly, pushing up from the railing and leaning against it straight-armed. “That means a much smaller pile o’ rocks.” The primness dissolved into another smile and she skipped sideways to the stairs to meet her friend with an actual hug. “Work, really. Feelin’ up the feebs for information on an investigation. Could be hanging around a while waiting on them. How’re you?”

Adrienne returned the hug warmly. “I’ve been better, but, y’know, I still have my looks so I haven’t lost all hope yet. It’s a good thing you weren’t here when the Sox lost their playoff spot, though. I broke a lot of glasses. Not a proud moment for me.” She didn’t even mention the antics that had taken place when she’d been waiting to hear that Vanessa had been rescued, and the aftermath of it. Terry had seen her in a similar state, when Garrison and the others had been taken, but seeing how that had been over two years ago and Adrienne hadn’t coped any better this time, she didn’t want to bring it up. There’d been a lot lately she hadn’t been proud of. “Aww, so you’re not back for good?” she asked in response to Terry’s mention of the investigation.

Terry snorted in amusement and eyed the other woman. “One o’ these days, they’re going to replace all the glass around you with plastic.” She pursed her lips and glanced away, offering a small shoulder shrug to the question. “Lot to consider with a move like that. Let’s just say I am feeling the situation out...”

“Plastic glasses and a padded cell,” Adrienne nodded sagely. “So you’re considering it, though? Leaving Interpol to move back here?” She cocked a finely sculpted brow in Terry’s direction. “That surprises me a little.”

Terry glanced back over her shoulder up at the building behind them before turning back to face Adrienne. She folded her arms in front of her, a subconsciously defensive move, and shrugged again. Her face twisted into a thoughtful, sour mue. “Considering it, aye. But that goes no further. At least not until I get some part of m’life figured out.”

“Uh oh.” Normally Adrienne wouldn’t pry, but... well, okay, Adrienne always pried. “What’s going on, sweetie? Last I remember, you seemed adamant that moving back to Ireland and joining Interpol was what you wanted. You half-killed yourself with work to get in. So what happened?”

“Aye, and then I lived half a life whilst there,” Terry retorted, accent growing more pronounced as her tone grew more heated. “My husband here, my friends here, my /life/ here. All I had there was my work.” She took a breath and exhaled it slowly, then looked at the other woman. “I was wanting to prove myself, I think, and I did. Now I think I am wanting something more.” Again with that glance back upstairs, somewhere in the direction of the staff suites. “He won’t even talk to me, Adri. We haven’t even...” She trailed off, but her blush spoke volumes before she stopped and gave her head a sharp shake. “Still, nothing compared to what has been going on, to be sure.”

Adrienne frowned thoughtfully. “Well... did you tell him that? That all you felt you had in Ireland was work, that you wanted to prove yourself and now that you have you want... more? With him?” Terry’s situation echoed slightly (in her own mind at least) of her own, how she’d been working so hard for so long to prove something to herself, and that that something, when she’d finally achieved it, had ended up not meaning anything, because meaning was only found in time spent with people you cared about. Or something like that. Terry seemed to have figured that out, so wasn’t the next step to say that to Bobby? Would that make things worse? In some ways, she was using Terry as a guinea pig, she supposed. It all sounded good in her head, talking about things, being honest with Bobby. So yes, she was sticking by the question she’d put to Terry. “I’m sure he’ll talk to you if you start the conversation, won’t he?”

Terry eyed Adrienne sidelong, amusement a thin veneer over unsettled frustration. “Are you taking your own advice?” she asked, turning the question back on Adrienne with a tease, then flapped her hand in a dismissive gesture. “Someday, maybe. Because the boyo and I are just grand at talking about our feelings, you know.” And acting like reasonable, impulse-controlled adults. Right.

Adrienne looked away guiltily. “Someday, maybe,” she echoed with a smirk. “Garrison and I aren’t exactly great at talking about our feelings, either. But he’s also not breaking things anymore, so that’s progress.” She didn’t think she’d ever seen Bobby and Terry together so Adrienne didn’t really have any personal opinion on their success as a couple- and it’s not like she would know how to judge a successful couple anyway- but she liked each of them separately and wanted them both to be happy. “Do you want me to take you shopping? Retail therapy?” she suggested, hoping to take Terry’s mind off her relationship issue.

And her own? Terry snorted a darkly amused laugh, and informed Adrienne, “Did you know he threatened me with a strip search by someone named Olga when I got in?” Tattletale. Also completely irrelevant, but she offered the tidbit with a close look at her friend’s guilt. “Retail therapy sounds grand. I will be in the City anyway. Pick me up this afternoon? Federal Plaza?” She shifts to move back inside, but retraces her step long enough to give another hug. “Go raibh maith agat, a chara. Tis good to be back,” she murmured, thanking her friend. “I have to get moving.”

“He’s always threatening to unleash Olga on people!” Adrienne exclaimed with a laugh and a shake of her head. She eyed Terry suspiciously after the Gaelic. “I’m gonna assume that wasn’t some insult I just didn’t get,” she muttered with mock suspicion. “Federal Plaza sounds good. Off with you!”

“You will never know,” Terry answered with a cheered laugh, then clattered up the stairs and into the house.