(Untitled)

[themanclion]

Gene had been told to stay off his injured knee for about five days. Of course, that meant that he'd ditched the crutches as soon as he got upstairs and had decided that the next morning was the perfect time to take himself horseriding again.

So the morning after that, when he couldn't walk on the thing at all and had run out of Scotch upstairs, it

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[middle_dubois]

There's a little girl of about eight or nine standing before the bar, reading the notice.

"What's a twat?" she asks, in a clearly American accent.

[themanclion]

Gene blinks down at her.

Oh God.

'Dunno if you're old enough to know.'

Mind you, it's not exactly a bad word. Compared to others he uses anyway.

'It's like an idiot, only a lot worse. Well. Quite a lot worse, anyway. Worse than bein' a ponce, probably.'

[middle_dubois]

"Oh, cool!" the little girl says, clearly committing it to memory. "Is it worse than the f-bomb?"

It would be so cool if it was!

[themanclion]

'F...bomb?'

Say what now?

'What're you on abou'?'

[middle_dubois]

"The real bad word even my big sister Ariel isn't allowed to say?" the girl grins. "Don't you know it?"

She grins more.

[themanclion]

'Oh.'

Yes, he's well aware of that word, thank you very much. But he's never heard it described as a 'bomb' before.

'Well, you're definitely too young to be usin' that one so don' let me hear it from you. Not if want any sort of drink today, lass.'

Young girls definitely should not swear, to his way of thinking. He doesn't particularly like hearing it from grown women, come to that.

[middle_dubois]

She can still remember it.

Twat.

She's totally going to call Ariel that the next time she leaves an empty carton on the breakfast table instead of fetching a new one.

But not now.

"Well, what kind of drink is there?" she asks the man behind the bar.

[themanclion]

He looks around at the vast array of bottles, then back at her with a 'did you really just ask that?' sort of expression.

'I'm not givin' you booze, so don' bother askin'. Last thing I need is yer mam turnin' up an' givin' me an earful about you sickin' up all over the front room.'

[middle_dubois]

"My mom doesn't come here," the little girl says. "There's only this cowboy lady who looks exactly like my mom. I guess she wouldn't like it either. She's very nice to me! So, what non-booze drinks do you have?"

He should make her some sort of offer, if he wants her not to swear!

[themanclion]

'...Kate?'

She's the only 'cowboy lady' he knows.

And he sighs.

'I dunno, luv. I don' drink much stuff withou' alcohol in. There's probably pop. Tea or coffee. Water. Milk. Oh, an' there was kid who showed me how t'make a milkshake, once.'

[middle_dubois]

"Yes!" she says. "Miss Kate Barlow! She's totally cool, isn't she?"

She seems to ponder.

"My mom is cool, too, but she's no cowboy lady. She works for the district attorney. And a milkshake would be cool. A strawberry one, please!"

[themanclion]

'She's alrigh', yeah.'

It's possible he, privately, thinks she's a bit more than 'alright' but he won't be letting that show.

'Righ'. Strawberry milkshake.'

Bugger. What's in them, again?

'You'd best come roun' here an' dig the strawberries out for me.' He's a bit hampered by having to use this stupid bloody crutch. 'An' wha's your name, luv?'

[middle_dubois]

"I'm Bridgette!" the little girl says, rushing around the bar to start looking for the strawberries.

"Oh, this is cool back here! I've never been behind the bar before. What is this box? Why did you hurt your leg?"

[themanclion]

'Don'...touch anythin'.'

That box could be anything. He stays away from it on general principle.

'I'm Gene Hunt. An' how I hurt my leg is none o'your bloody business. Strawberries'll be wherever people normally keep fruit,' (he does not have much experience with fruit) 'an' shift over. Ineed t'get at that freezer if you wan' ice cream in your drink.'

[middle_dubois]

"You said bloody!" Bridgette says, giggling. She's finding it very funny, apparently.

However, she tamely moves aside to let Gene Hunt get at the freezer, and opens a fridge beside it which indeed contains several little baskets of strawberries in the fruit compartment.

"Oh, look, they have kiwi, too! Can you put in a bit of kiwi? It's a cook fruit. I guess you're not a barkeeper in your world?"

Otherwise, he wouldn't have needed her help, would he?

[themanclion]

'Do I look like a bloody barman?'

Rude! And yes, he said it again.

'You can' have whatever you want in it, luv. Jus' pile it up there an' find me a blender.'

There's ice cream in here somewhere, he knows it. Normal ice cream, not this violent purple muck that seems to be spawning in here. He's not about to open one of them up and investigate it further.