MOUTHWASH *pigsday thread*

[THURSDAY DAVENPORT]

Thursday chuckled softly to himself, reflecting on just how wonderful it was that Pig could just pull these things right out of her head like it was nothing at all. Damn, but he had a good memory for poems, too. They were such a good match. Such a damn good match, and he just wanted to scream it to the world and...and kiss her or recite poetry with her or something. He didn't think he was that smart, but he had a damn good memory, and if he could find something that he and Pig could do together like that...totally cool. Yeah. Radical.

He didn't seem full of woe, huh? Huh. There was one thing about him that she didn't know. Thursday's spine prickled as he reflected on the fact that he had yet to tell Pig about the incident at the Brooklyn Bridge. Full of woe. Even now, he could feel the wounds throbbing faintly all throughout him, inflamed scar tissue pulsing unhappily against the mirth he felt with Pig. He needed to be connected to his brother more than he was. He needed things to be like they were.

But they weren't. And it hurt him.

"Me? Noble? Pfft." Thursday laughed softly and shook his head, giving Pig's hand a little squeeze. "I'm not that noble. I'm a rotten pranking troublemaker. You have no idea."

Pig...Pig, though. Pig was...understatedly noble. Not even understatedly so, she just was noble. For all the little blunt comments she made and all the little mischievous things she did to annoy her sister and such and such, she was...good. She was just good, and he liked that about her. Not goody-good exactly, or plain old regular good -- there was nothing plain or regular about Pig, though maybe something about her was a little older than her years. Anyway, Pig was just...she was fantastic. Excellent. Perfect? Perfect. She was just a...a good person, and he liked that.

Because he didn't think he was very good. He didn't think he was good at all, as a matter of fact. It had been Thursday's opinion for many months that he was a bad person, rotten right through, and having someone like Pig around...well...it made him feel...better. Mentally and physically.

Pig made him feel right.

They got on the bus, his hand still in hers, and he listened as she rambled on about some trip to Spain, initially wondering what she meant by the story. It was not like Pig to be so vague--

Oh. Disappointment. Mmm.

He wouldn't lie to himself -- he was worried about disappointing Pig, about letting her down. What if she found out that he was...well...broken, or whatever it was he was now? What if she didn't find him interesting after a couple of weeks? What if she didn't like the way he dressed or his pranking ways? What if...what if...!

No, no, no, he had to stop this, or he was going to firetruck this shit up big time. He had to be himself. If he wasn't, that'd just make things worse.

"Well," Thursday said, thinking to himself as he spoke, "Then I'll just have to do my best not to let you down." His smile grew, and he gave her hand a little squeeze, clearly not intending to let go.

[GEORGIANA 'PIG' SPENCER]

Oh, fantastic.

Nice one Pig, real smooth.

She had gotten him all worried!

God, he really was noble. She could see the worry on his face when she said she was afraid that she would be disappointed, but she hadn't meant it would be his fault. It would obviously be hers! Still, his face turned hopeful, and he squeezed her hand comfortingly. If hope rested in a cup, he may as well of just filled it. Quite a task, as Pig was very much the type to pick and fret at a situation until it was dissected like a frog in science class. Yet, right now, she felt as bright and vivid as her clothes. Like she was being seen for the first time. "You won't." She said confidently, with a little nod. Pig only really disappointed herself.

As they rode the bus, Pig's eyes felt like they were everywhere. The people weren't strange or anything, but still she watched them. Her parents had never been fans of public transportation, claiming it to be unsanitary. The closest thing to this was once when she rode the train in London, which had been quite dirty. Still, this was rather nice, and the people on board seemed to keep quietly to themselves.

Thursday still had not released her hand, and she had no intention on pulling away. It was warm, mostly soft with a few callouses that were certainly gained from a few misadventures. Still, Pig could not help but think that what he thought of hand holding was not the same as what she thought of hand holding. To her, that would be a sign that someone fancies someone else. You know... logic. But she had been assured boys are strange creatures who do one thing and say another. For all she knew, this was just what he did with friends, whether they were boy, girl, animal, mineral, or plant. She could imagine quite clearly him strolling down a street, a depotted plant being dragged along by the stem of a leaf, a cheerful whistle emanating from his well shaped lips.

The other prospect was that maybe he did fancy her, and she wasn't really sure if this was better. It would certainly be nice, she was sure, initially. He was a good looking lad, with interesting cheekbones and pretty eyes. Certainly girls had taken quite the notice of him and his brother. Had he kissed a girl before? Oh, God, the idea of Thursday snogging a girl (who was not Pig) made Pig's stomach churn in distaste. Jealousy, she was certain that's what that was.

Alright, so obviously, she fancied Thursday.

What now?

Looking over at him, she offered a shy little smile, wondering if she should just be out with it. She was never one to gild the lily, never one to beat around the bush, or to make an ado over trite things. Though, to be fair, this did not feel in the least bit trite. However before she could say anything, her reflective blue eyes caught the site of the prettiest thing she had ever seen! A boardwalk, a Ferris wheel! Cotton candy stands, and games, and skee ball! She had always wanted to try skee ball! "B-bloody hell." She mumbled, her voice breathy and hungry. "That's it, isn't it? That's Coney Island?" Well, no duh! What the hell else would it be? Mars?

Still, despite her stupid question, Pig's smiled grew to a real, genuine, full smile. "Oh, Oz... You did good." She assured, knee bouncing in anticipation for the bus to stop and let them off. Freedom was in her grasp.

[THURSDAY DAVENPORT]

There had been a time in his life when Thursday had been concerned with what other people thought of him. For years, he tried to please his parents – and then he figured out that pleasing them required him to be dreadfully unhappy, and that being unhappy was no fun at all. After that point in time, he’d had absolutely no interest in pleasing his parents, or anyone else for that matter. He’d always had Tuesday, anyway. He didn’t really need anyone else.

But now that they were both...well...growing up, he supposed it was time to value someone else besides himself and his brother.

Pig was his main candidate.

He was filled with an almost puppy-like desire to please her, to see that tiny, fleeting smile appear on her face, to hear her laugh. He wanted her to be happy. He wanted her to like him.

He also wanted her to be his girlfrie—wait, what?

Wait a second, back up. Girlfriend? Was he seriously going to think that? He, Thursday Davenport, supreme ruler of all things not involving relationships? He’d always been about as keen to have a girlfriend as he was to dive off a cliff into freezing cold water. It hadn’t mattered to him, hadn’t occurred to him – and when it did, he’d always ended up choosing Tuesday over any girl that came across his path.

Still, here was Pig, reassuring him that he wouldn’t disappoint her, looking at him with those beautiful eyes and hey, he really liked the way the sun shone on her hair, and he loved the way that she didn’t give a rat’s ass about anybody’s opinion of her, and just...damn. She was perfect. Perfectly perfect. In every way.

In addition, what Pig didn’t know was that Thursday had never held a girl’s hand before in his life. Well. That wasn’t entirely true. He’d probably held his mom’s hand when he was really little, and maybe the hands of a few other girls once or twice, but...he’d never really meant it like this. Again, since Tuesday had been the center of his life for most of his life, the only hand-holding he ever really did was with his twin, usually when they were running down the street away from the police or an angry shopkeeper. Never had he held hands with a girl like this. He wasn’t the type.

So if there was one thing Pig could be sure of – though she might not have known it – it was that hand-holding was somewhat of a big deal to Thursday, and he was just trying to be casual about it so he wouldn’t look like a total awkward bumbling teenage boy about it. Because the last thing Pig would be attracted to, he thought, was a bumbling teenage boy. She was too...graceful and smart and unusual for that. He had to be his very best. Better than regular Thursday, because regular Thursday was just sort of weird on his own, awkward and isolated and whatever else he was when Tuesday wasn’t around.

No, no, he had to be, like...Super Thursday. Except no tights. Tights were lame. A cape, though. A cape would be cool.

As Pig caught sight of Coney Island approaching, he couldn’t help but grin, delighted by her reaction. “That’s it,” he said, almost proudly, as if the entirety of Coney Island had appeared under his guidance.

He watched her lips spread into a smile and his own grin grew, his cheeks turning just a little bit pink. He loved Pig’s smile more than anything else he’d ever seen. She was so...blank all the time – not that he minded, because it made her smile even rarer, even better. To get her to smile was a challenge with the perfect reward. She was beautiful when she smiled.

“Anytime, Ruby,” he said, his voice soft and yet overflowing with happiness.

The bus came to a halt, and Thursday hopped up, keeping his hold of Pig’s hand and leading her off the bus. “Well,” he said, as he set foot on Coney Island, “here we are. What shall we do first, Milady Ruby?” He flashed her a dazzling grin, made all the more glowing by his sheer, unadulterated excitement.

[GEORGIANA 'PIG' SPENCER]

Composure was something Victoria Spencer had instilled in all of her daughters, even her rebellious youngest. That was why it was so trying for Pig to smile, and why her laughter always sounded so startled, as if she had shocked herself by making the strange noise. She never giggled, never snickered. Though she found things amusing in the peculiar days she spent at Baum, she was more one to proclaim something was funny in a mild tone, before returning to what she was doing. Thursday Davenport always seemed to be a test to this rule. With him, she was constantly attempting to stifle giggles and laughter, always pinching back smiles.

Pig wasn't even positive why she did this. It seemed counter productive, because when she was with Thursday, it was to have a good time. He wouldn't want to spend his days with a serious sally, and the novelty of her less than welcoming nature would certainly wear off sooner or later. But she did. And right now, that well shaped and tended to composure was put at it's greatest of tests. Right now she wanted to race off the bus, to gorge herself on food without using a fork, to play every game and not be a graceful winner when she got the cheap little plushes, and to ride rides until she ralphed. She wanted to be unladylike, to slurp, and kiss Thursday (before ralphing, of course. Or after a good tooth brushing)! Maybe right on the lips! Even imagining the look on Mary Anne's face made her want to giggle.

But she wouldn't do any of that, no matter how much she wanted too. She waited her turn to get off the bus, and stepped off with calm steps, hand clasped around Thursday's. The nervous energy was tangible, she knew it, and it grew one thousand times over when she stepped out. Thursday began to speak, but Pig need a moment, just a moment, and pressed her hand against his lips, eyes searching around. Beautiful. It was beautiful. The smells, the sounds, the sights. It was overwhelming, exciting, amazing, surreal. Closing her beryl eyes, Pig caught wiff of sweet cinnamon from elephant ears, burning cooking oil that carried the fragrance of batter, and sea salt. The sounds of children- five year olds, fresh from the confines of their kindergarten classes- screamed with glee as their rides whizzed and spin and twirled and swung. Games clanked and beeped and chirped and rang! Oh, it was a symphony of the mind, and it felt as though it was made only for Pig and Thursday today!

Opening her eyes, her smile grew to one of normal size, wanting to leave no stone unturned! She wanted to ride all the rides, and play all the games, and sample all the foods. "It's perfect." Tugging him, she walked backwards so as to face him. "I don't even know where I want to start... Where would you? I- the elephant ears smell good-" Looked good too, as she caught sight of one from a passerbyer. But as she walked the girl pass by, Pig's clear blue eyes caught sight of the most marvelous thing she had seen in all her life.

Tea cups. She had fantasized about this ride since she was a girl. They were beautifully painted, as brightly coloured as her, with wheels to spin on the inside to make it go even faster. A large tea cup stood in the off center, standing regally amongst the rest. The lights were unlit, as it was still day time, but Pig would bet anything it looked glorious during the night. Looking back at Thursday, Pig bit her lip. "Maybe... If you wanted..." Her excitement left her unable to perform something as simple as speech, and a roseate flush flooded her face.

Great. He must think she was a real stupid wanker, wanting to ride a child's ride. This was exactly why she needed to keep it together.

[THURSDAY DAVENPORT]

Thursday was subconsciously aware of his surroundings -- the towering, colorful rides, the faint sound of carousel music, the distant roar of the ocean. But somehow, it didn't really seem to matter. It was like background noise.

Background noise to Pig.

Pig was center stage in that moment. Her smile, the way her eyes lit up. He acquired a new appreciation for her outfit, the way all the pieces of her slender body fit together beneath it so flawlessly, and just...damn, she was beautiful, and it was a beautiful day but everything about the day that made it beautiful was playing second fucking fiddle to Pig fucking Spencer.

She was glorious.

God, it wasn't fair.

He shook his head slightly to try to clear his thoughts. Never in his life had he met a girl like Pig. Sure, he'd had crushes before -- plenty of crushes -- but nothing like this, nothing like this...strong attraction that just roped him in to Pig. It was like nobody else in the world existed, just her, and...regrettably, he had some dirty boy thoughts about her. But it wasn't all about that. Not at all. If it was, he would be obligated to shoot himself in the head. No, no, it was like...it was like he'd known her way longer than they'd actually known each other. It was like he could just...be who he was around her. He didn't have to pretend to be happier than he was or sadder than he was or any different than he was.

He could just be Thursday. There were so few people around whom he could just...be.

And he loved that. That feeling of freedom. It was amazing.

Pig was still holding his hand.

And then she clapped a hand over his mouth, stopping his words as they came, and Thursday turned bright pink.

But watching her expression in that moment was worth it, the way that she glowed as she drank in the world around them. So he shut up. He let her drink. He stayed silent and said nothing and waited for her to be ready, because he promised himself at that moment that that was what he would always do.

He blinked as she started to speak, his own eyes scanning the landscape at last, inhaling as they began to walk.

"Yeah, elephant ears, we could get some of those. I don't think I've ever had 'em before, actually, so..." He smiled at her, watching her face again before glancing up and around at the people surrounding them. He wondered what they thought of the two of them, two teenagers, strolling about holding hands...

Probably thought it was a date. Was this a date?

Oh, God, this was totally a date, wasn't it.

He was mulling over how completely appalling and pressuring that idea actually was when Pig spoke again, and he glanced at her, then at the teacups she seemed to be indicating.

A grin spread across his face. Aw, yeah, teacups! He hadn't ridden those in ages. Squeezing her hand, he said nothing to her in response, neither confirmed nor denied. Rather, he just started walking right towards the teacups without a second thought, as if there was no question that they were going to ride.

[GEORGIANA 'PIG' SPENCER]

And so they went to wait in line. They got a few looks, the pair of them, as they were going to be the tallest riders. But this was of little matter to Pig, who watched the teacups spin covetously. Their hair swung to-and-fro from their faces, and their mouths were wide with laughter. A few screamed, but it seemed muted. It was rather like looking at a well done painting. You could feel the laughter, you knew it was there. But you couldn't hear anything. It was beautiful.

Finally- after what took an age and a half- it was their turn! She nearly ran to the purple trimmed cup and sat in the seat, watching all around them. The seat was hard, and the spinning disc in the center was grubby. But it may well be a throne to Pig. Leaning over, she whispered softly into Thursday's ear. "This is the best thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you..." Pig smiled at the boy who had become her best friend so seamlessly, until the ride jerked. Lunging forward, her lips brushed his cheek and her forehead smacked against the side of his head. Not enough to hurt to terribly, but enough to send a surge of colour to her face.

Awesome.

That was real smooth.

Pulling back to her proper seat, Pig avoided his eyes as to avoid acknowledging the accidental peck on his cheek. It was easy enough, as the ride began to lunge around on his many awkward levels. It was much like riding on a boat on a wavy day- but with spinning. Remembering the disc, her little fingers wrapped around the raised edge, and she began to spin. It was surprisingly easy, as it glided about on the floor of the ride, and it allowed her to take in the euphoria. A short, sharp, laugh escaped her. So quick, Pig looked at Thursday in surprise, before letting loose another. And another, and another, until she was swarmed with laughter she could not control.Tears rose in her queer blue eyes, and her full lips unhinged to let loose the noise from within. It was the strangest expeirence of her life... All graces left her as her hair whipped out of their pins and smacked her face.

It was freeing.

But sadly, and what seemed to quick, the ride stopped. Her laughter quieted, though her smile remained. Her face was sore from the exertion. Pig's chestnut hair was half down and hap-hazardously pinned. There was no saving it, and all she could do was pull out the remaining pins as she climbed off the ride without her usual coordination. Glowing, she bombarded Thursday with her joy. "That was amazing!" She cried, searching for the bobbies lost in her head. "Give me a hand- but wasn't that great! God, I've never done anything like that in my life! I wish my Mother could have seen it, she'd have fainted at how I was acting..." A impish giggle escaped her, eyes shining at her Thursday Davenport.

[THURSDAY DAVENPORT]

So yeah, maybe it was a little awkward standing in line for like half an hour surrounded by little kids and their parents, all of whom were giving them exceptionally strange and mildly suspicious looks through their beady little parent eyes. But it was worth it, seeing the excitement gleaming in Pig's beautiful eyes as she watched the spinning cups, worth it enough that he stamped down the urge to stick out his tongue childishly at some of these stuffy old coots clutching their grubby progeny by the hand. For once, he behaved. For Pig. If only to not get them booted from the line.

The last time he'd been on a teacup ride...God, he couldn't even remember. It'd been with Tuesday, of course. Back when they were kids and they never left each other's side. He had a faint memory of being at some theme park somewhere or other on the West Coast, of clutching the wheel and spinning it madly, bumping into Tuesday, smacking their heads together, but laughing and screaming and getting all bruised up for the sake of the thrill.

The cups didn't seem quite as big, now. They'd been enormous back then. But he'd gotten a lot taller.

He stepped into the cup after Pig, hurrying to catch up with her as she flitted to the purple-trimmed selection from the wide array of oversized tableware. It didn't worry him. He'd never gotten motion sick before -- well, once, on a boat, but he hadn't thrown up or anything, ew.

Either way, even if he himself probably wouldn't have ridden the teacups, his focus on this trip was Pig. And if she wanted to ride the teacups, then by golly, he wanted to ride the teacups.

She spoke in his ear softly, thanking him -- thanking him! "People musta not been very nice to you, then," he joked in response, grinning at her. When the ride jerked to life beneath them and her lips bumped against his cheek, he felt an unexpected tingle run through his body from head to toe, his face turning a frankly alarming shade of pink. He let free a nervous laugh to show her he wasn't bothered and gripped the wheel with her, spinning it in the same direction, not caring that the hair he took so long to fix in the morning was being whipped all over the place because holy mother of all things pasta-related, Pig was laughing.

She was laughing, really laughing, her hair getting all mussed up and bobby pins flying everywhere and God, she was the most beautiful person, place, or thing he had ever seen in his eighteen years of existence, more beautiful than a perfectly-rhymed poem or a chocolate sculpture in the gilded window of a candy store or the Eiffel Tower at midnight in Paris. Pig was laughing and the world stopped.

And then it restarted again, booting up in slow mo, the loose strands of Pig's hair billowing in the wind, and then everything was running real-time, and the cups were stopping, and his arms were sore from turning the wheel so fast and so long, and he was grinning like a madman because Pig Spencer had laughed and he had made it happen.

When at last the cup came to a halt, he smiled at her, the expression nearly splitting his face in half as he bent over to help her pick up her bobby pins. "Glad I could be of assistance," he chirped, all happiness, all contentment. He beamed at her, trying as hard as he could to disguise his adoration.

"So!" he said, clapping his hands together after most of the pins had been recovered. "Where to next?"