[OOM:
Plus ça change]
When he comes in this time, he's much happier than he was last time, which is good. For him, at least. Not necessarily anyone else. And one thing that can be said about Gene is that he's consistent - when he's pissed off, he drinks and when he's happy...he's drinks.
So that's what he's doing, over there at the bar.
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But that doesn't mean she should neglect her mid-afternoon, post-work martini, does it?
She settles into a seat at one end of the bar to order, finding a cigarette in her purse to light up while she waits.
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'Alrig', luv?'
He maaaaay sound a bit wary.
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That, and she's mid-drag.
Discreetly, she exhales smoke through slightly pursed lips before responding with: "Pardon?"
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He's not sure whether to be glad of that, or disappointed.
'Gone deaf?'
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The cigarette rests between index and middle finger as she slides her hand around the martini glass, lifting it to her lips without spilling a single drop of gin.
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Unfortunately, he's not yet heard of the doppelganger phenomenon that sometimes crops up in Milliways and he tends to believe the evidence of his eyes. That this might not be Saffron is something that never occurs to him.
'Well then. I said, 'alrigh', luv'? Like I normally do to a bird.'
Especially one he's met before.
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"Love, bird - I've never heard so many nicknames in one sentence," she replies, reaching out to tap the end of her cigarette into the closest ashtray.
"But to answer your question: just fine, thanks, and you?"
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'Are you complainin'?'
He taps his own smoke out over the floor and puts it back between his lips.
'An' yeah, I'm grand.'
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"Did I say I was?"
There's more playfulness in her tone than annoyance, though. She motions to the drinks in front of him with a casual wave of her hand.
"I might have guessed, by the Scotches."
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He's thinking most pertinently of last time, whn he was trying to drown himself in it. That was hardly a good indiciation that drinking lots of it always makes him happy.
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"I can tell you I've never seen you drinking Scotch before because this is the first time I've actually seen you drinking, period."
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'Wha', apart from the other two times we spoke? Hard to forget, seein' as you spent the whole time tryin' to get in me pants.'
Something is very odd about this conversation.
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"I hate to break it to you, but I'm not the girl you're thinking of."
Besides, in her typical encounters with men, she doesn't usually need to worry about trying to do the work required to get into any pants.
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'Well, you definitely look like the bird I 'ad to fight off with a stick.'
Maybe that's what this is? She's embarrassed about her blatant behaviour and is now...trying to pretend it never happened?
No, that doesn't feel right. Saffron definitely didn't strike him as the type to worry about such things.
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"Now that's one I'll admit to never having heard before."
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'Wha's your name, luv?'
He sounds exasperated, and impatient.
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