sweetestheart | TFLN overflow catchall

Threads to be continued here!

See? That's some incentive to reach a ripe old age. I have a feeling the older I get the more hair I'll have; I'll reach 80 and just look like Cousin It from 'The Addams Family', but just....much curlier.

That's a lot of hair...

Do you have a lot of hair now?

I do; I can probably count the number of times I've cut it on one hand. Maybe a couple more than that. Becomes a bit of a beast when it's windy, but I can't picture getting rid of it.

Letting it grow out then?

I have longer hair than most guys. Especially my age.

I've just never had it any differently, and I'm not sure I'd like to. ...Can I see a picture of you?

Alright.

( pic )

Ohh yeah, no way you're losing that mop. You're a lucky fella!

( And, because it's only polite; she sends one right back a couple of minutes later.

Not a current one, but she's in her PJ's right now up to her elbows in paint; not necessarily the best first visual impression. But she supposes a theatre-related one will do. )

( He frowns at the photograph of her. She's the kind of beautiful that makes his heart ache. He finds himself staring at her wondering if she's really her or if this was some woman found off a quick google search. He dryly chuckles for a few reasons, the first being that she probably didn't have this response to his fucking photo, and accepts how he looks because he's one old dude - and not a gorgeous old dude at that. The other reason he's laughing is because regardless if this is her, or not, she's in fucking Ireland.

What's the harm in being catfished every once in a while? )

Christ, you're a good-looking woman. So, this is when you start reeling me in with your pyramid scheme, or money scam plan.

Aw come on - don't shatter the illusion just yet; I'm still working on my money-grabbing presentation here, you caught me right in the middle of it. I was trying to perfect it for you and everything. Thank you though, you're sweet to say so - and for what it's worth, you're not too hard on the eyes yourself. Sorry mine wasn't a selfie, but I'm not really in a prime photo-taking state right now. These aren't even my good PJ's, for shame.

Hard to imagine any state you're in isn't prime selfie material.

( He feels awkward about responding to her comment about his presentation. He doesn't believe he's all that ugly, but he sure as fuck doesn't believe he's attractive. He feels better just focusing on her. )

Oh no, trust me, it's easily imagined. The next time I'm mucking out the stable and I'm neck deep in dirty hay and horse shit, I'll send you another photo.

Now I know you're teasing me, I don't think my old heart can take such raw beauty.

Perhaps I won't then; wouldn't want you to keel over and have that as the last thing you see. Couldn't live with myself!

A sight I'll be glad to go out with.

Pfft, sure...whatever you say.

( He doesn't get a reply to the smiley face that night - did she crash in her art room? Yes. Is there now paint in her hair? Also yes, but that's not the point.

The point is, the following day, Hank receives another photo; a selfie this time, and one almost as grubby as promised. She's not up to her neck in grime, per say, but she's definitely looking like she's been lightly dragged through a hedge backwards if her hair's anything to go by, with dust and mud spattered on her shirt and accidentally smeared on her face alongside paint from the previous night.

She is smiling though, as her horse decided he wanted to be a part of the picture and stuck his face right into frame (almost pushing her out). )

If you do kick the bucket after seeing that ^, know it's been a delight talking to you.

( He stares at the picture for a good while, a dumb grin on his face. She still is every bit of pretty he claimed her to be from the first time he'd seen her. The horse isn't too bad looking either, but really he's focused on the woman. He imagines the remnants of her chores are what leave their impressions on her body. Not that he would know the first thing about farm life but the horse brings him to think there was some significant routine tasks that needed to happen, and they were messy. )

I survived through the power of being right.

( 'Messy' was certainly one way of putting it. But, as she plops down outside the horse stall to rest for a minute, that reply gets a grin out of her too. )

Ah, he lives!! The day is saved! How's your day going so far, lieutenant?

Alright. Nothing too big, yet. Finishing up some paperwork until a call comes in for homicide.

I suppose in this context, having not much going on other than paperwork is a good thing.

Yeah, you're right about that.

How are your chores going?

Eh, they're going. The to-do list is allegedly getting shorter but it never seems like it is. All the hard stuff's done though, so I can stop soon, for a little while anyway.

So, you live across the pond, on a farm?

Not a farm, no - but I do have some land, and a very big garden that needs a lot of attention. That, and my horse is a giant needy baby. I like the work, but I can't imagine having any other animals, not while I'm here by myself anyway.