fic & bonus picspam
Regarding my last post, I didn't find the fic, but I did find the canon-mention! It was in 5.05:
JO: God, those two. One minute it's off, the next it's all on again.
ROS: I hadn't noticed.
JO: This tracker should tell us. If it's straight home for Ruth then maybe not, but if it's out for a Chinese or a curry then maybe...
ROS: I'm really not interested.
JO: Oh come on. There's not much else to smile about. Ask Zaf, he's running a book.
(Oh god Ros please cut your hair already.)
On that note: fic! Series 8 spoilers; series 9 character-spoilers only; 330 words.
A Long and Illustrious History
"Welcome to Section D," Tariq said. "Would you like to enter the When Will Harry And Ruth Get Together Stakes?"
Dimitri couldn't think of an appropriate answer, so he took the ledger and flipped through it. He stopped when he got to the latest total in the kitty. "How much?"
"It has a long and illustrious history."
"No kidding."
Dimitri read the total again, to make sure, then turned back through the book. The first few entries were paltry amounts for seemingly random dates - 19 January, the Ides of March, the next full moon. Near the bottom of the first page: you are all completely mental, £2 says the Christmas party 2010.
"Well, Tom Quinn still stands to make a killing. Who's he?"
"No idea," Tariq said happily. "I expect I'll have to hack some top-secret personnel files to find out, should he win."
Dimitri kept reading. There was a flurry of activity in 2006. At one point someone had started to calculate winnings, but someone else had crossed it out, referring to the rule that a kiss was required for confirmation and official sources at the restaurant had reported no kiss. Then an entry in thick black pen: £50 says YESTERDAY - ASK ZAF, underlined twice. It was followed by a gap of nearly three years.
"What happened then?"
"If I told you, I'd have to kill you."
"You don't know?"
Tariq shrugged. "I'm just the bookkeeper. So, are you in or not?"
Dimitri wasn't quite sure what to make of it. He'd gambled his life on occasion, but his money was a different matter. And this was very serious money.
"It's my first day," he protested eventually. "I don't even know who Ruth is."
Tariq held up the book. "Documentary evidence suggests that knowing who Ruth is has absolutely nothing to do with it."
Dimitri grinned. "Okay. Put me down for the Christmas party in 2015. Might as well be in for the long haul."
- - -
(So what I actually wanted to do was write the ledger, but I am defeated by technology. If someone with a scanner and a few different coloured pens handy wants to indulge me, you will have the pleasure of knowing I will be giggling like a maniac all weekend.)
JO: God, those two. One minute it's off, the next it's all on again.
ROS: I hadn't noticed.
JO: This tracker should tell us. If it's straight home for Ruth then maybe not, but if it's out for a Chinese or a curry then maybe...
ROS: I'm really not interested.
JO: Oh come on. There's not much else to smile about. Ask Zaf, he's running a book.
(Oh god Ros please cut your hair already.)
On that note: fic! Series 8 spoilers; series 9 character-spoilers only; 330 words.
A Long and Illustrious History
"Welcome to Section D," Tariq said. "Would you like to enter the When Will Harry And Ruth Get Together Stakes?"
Dimitri couldn't think of an appropriate answer, so he took the ledger and flipped through it. He stopped when he got to the latest total in the kitty. "How much?"
"It has a long and illustrious history."
"No kidding."
Dimitri read the total again, to make sure, then turned back through the book. The first few entries were paltry amounts for seemingly random dates - 19 January, the Ides of March, the next full moon. Near the bottom of the first page: you are all completely mental, £2 says the Christmas party 2010.
"Well, Tom Quinn still stands to make a killing. Who's he?"
"No idea," Tariq said happily. "I expect I'll have to hack some top-secret personnel files to find out, should he win."
Dimitri kept reading. There was a flurry of activity in 2006. At one point someone had started to calculate winnings, but someone else had crossed it out, referring to the rule that a kiss was required for confirmation and official sources at the restaurant had reported no kiss. Then an entry in thick black pen: £50 says YESTERDAY - ASK ZAF, underlined twice. It was followed by a gap of nearly three years.
"What happened then?"
"If I told you, I'd have to kill you."
"You don't know?"
Tariq shrugged. "I'm just the bookkeeper. So, are you in or not?"
Dimitri wasn't quite sure what to make of it. He'd gambled his life on occasion, but his money was a different matter. And this was very serious money.
"It's my first day," he protested eventually. "I don't even know who Ruth is."
Tariq held up the book. "Documentary evidence suggests that knowing who Ruth is has absolutely nothing to do with it."
Dimitri grinned. "Okay. Put me down for the Christmas party in 2015. Might as well be in for the long haul."
- - -
(So what I actually wanted to do was write the ledger, but I am defeated by technology. If someone with a scanner and a few different coloured pens handy wants to indulge me, you will have the pleasure of knowing I will be giggling like a maniac all weekend.)