9 May 2009

broadsword_babe: (Miranda (eyebrow))
Right, so. My scribe was looking through "vampire music" of all things on iTunes *glares in jest @ [livejournal.com profile] hunts4blood & [livejournal.com profile] salt_and_silver* and came across a band called "Kronos Quartet." Course, we both boggled. First thing that came t'my mind was that I didn't think the bloke could sing. Methos, on the other hand...

Anyway, turns out they're not a band at all, but a chamber quartet. Interesting, that.

broadsword_babe: (Miranda (jeans))
France in the spring was a sight to behold. The sky was a bright, clear blue with patches of cottony-white clouds. The chartered over-night flight over from New York had gone off without a hitch, and a little red rental waited for them outside the gate. Quinn hadn't been able to resist getting a convertible. The countryside, and the weather, was just too nice.

It amazed her how little this part of the country had changed. Vineyards still covered the rolling hills, modest châteaus dotted the valleys, and flowers sprang up next to the roadway. She was so enthralled by the scenery, she almost missed the turn-off for her estate.

Weeks ago, she had made a few calls to keep up the pretence she had inherited the place from a deceased great-aunt, and wanted to arrange a visit to go over the property. All the appropriate paperwork had been filed through various lawyers with the key being FedExed to Methos' flat just in time for their trip.

Gravel crunched as she downshifted to turn on to the drive up to the main house. From the sound of if, the place might need a bit of fixing up, but it wasn't a falling-down ruin. In a pasture off to one side of the driveway, she spotted a few horses and smiled to herself, tempted to make a quip about Methos' angry adolescence. But it would've fallen on deaf ears since he was fast asleep in the passenger seat, or maybe he was just faking it.

Just ahead, she could see the house, and breathed a sigh of relief. Someone had been kind enough to tend the gardens and shrubbery surrounding the two-and-a-half story building. It looked to be in decent shape, only needing a fresh coat of paint and perhaps a new roof. She knew, from personal experience, that it already had the requisite plumbing and electricity needed in these modern times, but she wasn't sure what state the interior was in.

"Oi, sleepyhead!" she said, lightly punching his arm. "C'mon, nearly there."

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