(Untitled)

[themanclion]

He will never understand this place. Time moves in ways it bloody well shouldn't. It's only been twenty minutes since he was last here, only now it appears to be Christmas, if the decorations are to be believed.

He walks to the bar. 'You're tryin' to tell me somethin', aren't you?'

There is no reply. He waits a moment, then sighs. A pint appears.

'

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[lady_bols]

Even though she's had a meal and a bit of a kip, she's still feeling out-of-sorts, like her limbs are still getting used to taking instruction from her brain.

And he left her sitting in the cab while he ducked into the off-licence. He said he'd be right back. That was ten minutes ago.

Which is why she's sighing and pushing herself out of the Quattro's bucket seat. She barely notices the little swoop and dive her stomach does as she crosses the threshold.

"What the -- "

She's standing just inside the front door, back in her hearts-and-rainbows jammies, holding a white teddy bear wearing a santa hat. As if she hadn't only just left this place not twenty minutes ago, leaning heavily on his arm.

"Bloody hell."

[themanclion]

Well. That cheers him up a bit.

'Looks like I'm not the only one she's tryin' to say somethin' to.'

'Nice jim-jams.'

[lady_bols]

"Gene."

This is clearly his fault, somehow.

"It's not funny."

Her lips twitch. Okay, it's a little funny.

"You're buying me hot chocolate. With a peppermint stick in."

[themanclion]

'The Gene Genie does not buy cocoa in a pub.'

The still way he's sitting, and eyeing her, suggests that exactly the opposite is about to occur.

'...you 'eard the lady.'

One hot chocolate, with a peppermint stick. He does not look at it. Or her.

[lady_bols]

"Thank you."

She chuffs at him under her breath, hoisting herself onto the bar stool beside him and wrapping her hands around the huge mug. The peppermint stick is used to stir the marshmallows around a bit before she takes a sip and sighs with contentment.

"You were supposed to be coming right back. I was..." Worried? Checking up on him? Yes, she was, but it's one thing to think it and another entirely to come right out and say it. "...just wondering where you'd got off to."

[themanclion]

'Time passes out there when you're waitin' for me?'

He quite likes the idea of that, strangely.

'If this place drags me in, I usually jus'...let it. It's generally for a reason.'

[lady_bols]

She hums a little, trying not to make a big deal of it. As if she wears her pyjamas to the pub all the time.

"Usually not. I think she was using you to lure me in."

And it worked.

"What's the reason this time? Someone need a good shouting at?"

[themanclion]

'No. At least, not so far.'

He gets another drink, still without looking at her. He's pretty sure it's just to delay the ineviatbel, though that doesn't make sense. He wants to get back to work.

But then, why bring Alex in and stick her in pyjamas if not to hold them back? There must be a reason. he hopes Bar's not just being a twat.

[lady_bols]

"Well, aren't you the jolly one," she sighs, so very done with being exhausted. She wants things back to normal just as much as he does, possibly moreso. Things haven't been anywhere near 'normal' for her in the last two and a half years. (Ever since the day Arthur Layton showed up again. Her thoughts skitter violently away from that truth.)

A quick glance around the place, the rafters festooned with tinsel and garland, the evergreens all around the fireplace, the santa hat...

"Oh, well. I suppose that makes sense."

[themanclion]

'Sorry, was I s'posed t'be...never mind.'

See, when they came in last time, that was like a respite before they went back. He could understand that. This is like they...failed to do something then, so they've been held back again. Or like they've moved too early, and things aren't ready. Or...something, that he can't put his finger on.

Or it could just be that nothing will fit together again until he's back where he belongs.

'I always imagined your pyjamas t'be a bit sexier.'

[lady_bols]

"I didn't exactly pick these out, did I?" Not to mention, she hasn't worn pyjamas since she was twelve.

She leans a little into his space, her expression a little perplexed, hands still fretting with stirring the mug of cocoa.

"I missed Christmas. While I was, you know -- in hospital. Maybe this is her way of..." She waves the stick of peppermint a little before licking the chocolaty foam off.

[themanclion]

He glances at her now, then back at the bar.

'What's the date?' he asks her, and is duly presented with a napkin telling him it's the fifteenth.

'If you reckon I'm givin' you ten days off work so you can sit aroun' and get pissed under the pretence of Christmas cheer, you've got another thing comin'.'

It's said in that firm way that's not nearly so serious as he makes out. Mainly because he's pretty damn sure she'd know better than to suggest such a thing.

[lady_bols]

She's quiet for a long moment, massaging her temple with one hand.

"Save that time doesn't pass while we're here, you stubborn git."

Except of course, when the bar is setting her up for a trap.

"And anyway, that's not what I was suggesting and you know it."

[themanclion]

'Mmm,' he says, staring forward, which is his equivalent of acknowledging that OK, he knew she wasn't suggesting that.

Because time might not pass out there, but they'd still have to pass ten days in here, and isn't she as depserate as he is to put things right? She must be, surely? Unless he really was more wrong about her all this time than he thought. And he...can't believe that. Because he doesn't want to, mainly.

'Well then, I'll buy you a turkey dinner now, and that's Christmas. You can eat it in your PJs. OK?'

Come to think of it, he didn't have a Christmas either. He wouldn't turn away from a proper dinner.

[lady_bols]

She glances at him, and nods. "If you insist."

A thought strikes her, and she smiles, remembering.

"Better than motorway sarnies and stale tea, hmm?"

[themanclion]

'Yeah.'

He smiles a bit too, but it's sad.

'Won' be as good as what me mam cooked, though.'

Obviously.