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[themanclion]

When Gene comes in tonight, he looks cheerful enough. As usual, he heads straight for the bar and orders a pint with a whiskey chaser. He's a bit thrown when he gets a napkin instead.

'...you what?'

Another napkin, which says much the same thing.

'Not on your bloody life, luv.'

Yet another, with the same polite request and, just maybe, a mention of the

Comments

[lady_bols]

She'd watched from the other side of the bar for as long as she could stand it.

This was not her DCI.

This was Sam's DCI.

She slipped into a bar stool, wide-eyed, wondering just what the hell her mind was playing at.

"I'll have a -- " She has to cough to clear her throat, and find her voice. "I'll have a shandy please?"

[themanclion]

'No you bloody won't. You'll 'ave a proper drink or sod off, luv.'

He's not happy about being made to work here. Though to be fair, when totty like this shows up it's not so bad.

[lady_bols]

Oh it's Gene all right.

One sculpted eyebrow rises.

"Then I guess I'll have a Scotch please. Neat."

[themanclion]

'Tha's better.'

He smirks and pours two, double measures.

'An' I expec' you meant t'add, 'and 'ave one yerself' onto the end of tha' but forgot. Lucky for you I'm a detective.'

Birds can't be expected to remember every little thing, he knows that. Even posh ones like this.

[lady_bols]

This. Is so. Bizarre.

"Oh you are, are you? Funny thing that."

She takes a sip of her Scotch, eyes still wide.

In her head, she's running down everything from Sam's notes. This Gene was still married, still bent. And apparently, had never had to wear a proper suit for anything other than a funeral, she'd guess.

[themanclion]

He looks suspicious, like she's casting doubt on his police status by his appearance. Which is weird because he's pretty damn sure he looks exactly like a copper should.

'Wha's tha' supposed t'mean?'

[lady_bols]

"It means, I find it -- an interesting coincidence."

She rests her elbows on the bar, her mind racing. Her words are a bit stilted as they compete for cycles.

"Are you a private detective?"

She's stalling, yes, she is. But this is just -- he doesn't know her. She hasn't known him but a year, and it feels like she's known him forever.

[themanclion]

'No. I'm a copper.'

His words are delivered sharply. He didn't miss her first comment there.

'Why's it a coincidence?'

He thinks he already knows. That conversation with Dotty the other day has stayed with him, for exactly this possibility.

[lady_bols]

Oh she knows that sharp gaze, all too well.

She swallows, smirks. She knows what's coming next, so she slips a hand into her pocket and lays her warrant card on the bar.

"Well, you see. I'm a detective as well, with the Met."

[themanclion]

His eyes don't move from her face for a long moment. Then they glance down at the card, taking in the name.

He picks it up and hands it back to her.

'I've 'eard abou' you.'

This may be one of the few times she'll see him thrown. He lights a fag, examines her face again and then looks away.

'An' I don' think we shoul' be talkin'.'

It makes this place feel even more wrong. As soon as he read her name something twisted inside him, saying no. He doesn't know who she is. He just knows that Sam is his DI, pain in the arse though he is. Another one...it's wrong.

This is Sam's time.

[lady_bols]

Her brow furrows. The shift in his demeanour is unexpected. Something behind her breastbone twists, a sharp twinge, like hitting an air pocket in flight.

Alex sits back a little, both hands cupped around her glass.

"Heard about me? From who?"

[themanclion]

'A time-travelin' hooligan who met both of us 'ere, apparantly.'

It's just hitting him, like a train, what that means. Because Ace never said anything about him working for the Met.

'...wai' a minute. You work f'the Met?'

What.

Shit.

Or maybe...maybe she transfers north? That might make sense.

[lady_bols]

"Oh you mean Ace." His distress is palpable, and she has to think on her feet. "She talks a load of bollocks, that one."

She's sure she'll catch hell for that later, but she'll deal with that when it happens.

She doesn't know why it's so important for her to placate this particular portion of her subconscious, but after the last few weeks, things behind her door have reached some kind of tentative equilibrium. And she'd like very much to enjoy that a little while longer.

At least until that long parade of X's on her calendar comes to an end and she can finally go home.

"What did she tell you, hmm?"

[themanclion]

He's staring at her like she might be about to destroy the world around them and there's nothing he can do about it. He doesn't know why this is such a problem for him but it is. It really is.

'Tha' you were my DI. Later on.'

And he'd told her it was bollocks, that there'd never be a female Di, especially working for him.

But here she is. Apparantly.

Awkward.

[lady_bols]

Alex purses her lips, thinking.

"Well, considering you're all figments of my imagination, it's quite possible. Then again, this is Milliways isn't it? Isn't anything supposed to be possible here?"

She takes a long drink off her Scotch, eyes watching him.

"If it's a problem, I can go?"

[themanclion]

'...you sound like Tyler.'

It's out before he means to say it, though really, is there any reason why she should know the name?

...if she's his DI, where does Tyler go? Though OK, that's easy enough to imagine. Buggered off back to Hyde, probably.

'Anythin' migh' be possible but I'd rather it left me, an' my team - presen' or future - alone.'