I love it when actual history gives me the rare kind of triangle I like instead of loathe:
E. M. Forster shared a policeman with the man's wife for thirty years. Am not surprised this only started to work better once Forster developed a relationship of its own with May (the wife) as well and came to befriend her as a person, instead of just seeing
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“It’s sold out,” said Gwen, “and don’t you think there’s an obvious problem?”
“Problem?” said Ianto.
“Shirley Bassey, right? Grew up in Cardiff, lived in Splott, huge star, what are the odds that she doesn’t know Jack?”
“And?”
“So he’ll have shagged her, or one of her husbands or kids or boyfriends, or her manager or her bloody roadie, and if we showed up you can be sure that there would be trouble.”
“You might think that,” said Jack, coming into the hub, “but she’s out in the public eye, and we’re supposed to be a secret organization.”
“Which doesn’t necessarily mean ‘no,’” said Gwen.
“A gentleman never tells.”
Someone sniggered, and Martha said “Even Ianto can’t keep a straight face for that one.”
And then the Rift opens and they go off and deal with the rest of the story...
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