(Untitled)

[necessary_child]

There is a Sam! He's outside on the jetty, dabbling his feet in the water and watching the sunset.

Come bother him.

Inside is a Martha, curled up on a sofa with a big glass mug of Irish coffee (mmmm, whiskey), a slice of chocolate cake, and a copy of A Study In ScarletShe hasn't noticed that she's acquired a cream moustache from the coffee

Comments

[themanclion]

Gene flings himself down on the armchair opposite Martha, scrutinizes her for a brief moment and then says;

'Either your drink's go' cream in it or you've taken up moonlightin' as a prozzie an' your last client had bad aim.'

He's guessing the former but hey, you never know.

[took_a_year_out]

Martha gives him a Look - it's hard to do whilst licking cream off your lip, but she just about manages to do it.

"I'm not above hitting you with this, you know."

It's a hardback, so she could theoretically inflict at least noticeable damage with it. She doesn't exactly look the type, but Gene should have learnt by now not to underestimate small twenty-first-century women.

[themanclion]

'You wouldn' do that. You don' know whether I'd like it or no'.'

He smirks cheekily and lights the fag hanging out of his mouth.

'Alrigh', CleverKecks? How's life?'

[took_a_year_out]

"Depends where I'd be hitting you," Martha says darkly.

She sets the book down, though: she came here to relax, and hauling off and decking the twerp - even if he can be quite an entertaining twerp - with a book would only spoil it. And more to the point, it might break her book!

She rolls her shoulders lightly. "I'm okay. How's life in the cave?"

[themanclion]

'Ruddy marvellous. So marvellous, I'm goin' to pretend I didn' jus' hear you disparage my city.'

He does know that's not exactly what she meant but there'd be no fun in not misinterpreting the remark on purpose.

'course, the 'cave's' a lot bigger now I've go' this place to play in an' all. Where you been? You only allowed in when you've been a good girl, or somethin'?'

[took_a_year_out]

"You do that."

Martha isn't going to bother correcting him.

"I've been around. You probably just haven't stuck around long enough to spot me."

What with the excellent job of running off he did the first time they met, after all...

[themanclion]

He raises an eyebrow at her.

'Don' imagine it's the first time a bloke's lef' you in the lurch. Besides, I didn' trust you no' to let yer hormones get the better of you and chuck tha' book in me face.'

Or something. He nods at the one she's reading now.

'Wha's that?'

[took_a_year_out]

Martha lets that go, for now.

"A book."

D'uh. She does at least hold it up for him to read the cover, though.

[themanclion]

Which he does, in fact, read.

'Lesbian poetry?'

If so, he wants a look.

...Gene's never been into Sherlock Holmes. If he met him, he'd probably punch him within five minutes.

[took_a_year_out]

Martha snorts. "Yeah, because I'd totally let you see it if it was. Have you never heard of Sherlock Holmes in caveland?"

[themanclion]

'If you call Manchester tha' one more time, I'll pour your drink over you,' he says, with deceptive mildness.

Don't think he won't, Martha.

'An' yes, I've heard of 'im. Even watched one o'the TV shows, once.'

He blows out a stream of smoke, sniffs and delivers his judgement.

'Bloody ponce.'

[took_a_year_out]

Martha rolls her eyes, moving away from the plume of smoke.

"You might want to try not acting like a Neanderthal, then."

[themanclion]

This is confusing.

'I'm no', luv. Jus' being meself, same as always. Same as every other bloke where I come from, only I'm better at it.'

Which means, better at drinking and darts and driving fast and being a man than anyone else, ever.

[took_a_year_out]

Martha gives him a sceptical look.

"See, I've been to Manchester, and I didn't notice that many guys dragging clubs behind them."

Perhaps she just wasn't paying enough attention?

[themanclion]

'Yeah well,' and at this point, he looks highly disapproving,

'I've been tol', since I've been 'ere, tha' birds are allowed to get more gobby an' do men's jobs an' what have you. In th' future, I mean.'

He sniffs and looks away.

'You obviously go' the sanitised version.'

[took_a_year_out]

Martha grins the grin of someone very aware of how well off she is. "Yeah, the future sounds pretty good to me. I'll pass on being black and a girl in the 1970s, thanks."