[The city, in its normal, creepy kind of way, has been stalking one Robert Chase today. The first image flashes up on the network as he leaves the square's newest shopping paradise, and CCTV snapshots continue to be captured intermittently all the way home. If he's lucky, at least he won't be
recognised?Finally back at his building, we see him pull
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So you think I should put my spring/summer wardrobe back for another month.
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That depends. How cold are you?
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I'm indoors.
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I thought it was no shirt, no shoes, no service.
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No shirt no shoes seems to be the door policy.
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I thought this was a ploy to get Peter to spend less time on the roof.
[And a pause as she considers this.]
Well, at least you've got one step up above everyone else I've seen go in and then come out of there. I think nine out of ten people haven't showered in at least a week and a half.
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[A laugh and a little meow of complaint as the shoulder that had been a perfectly good cushion suddenly moves.]
I'm on my third of the day, not that I've got much to show for it. Caspian looks like he's been tossed with someone's fries.
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[That mention of Caspian gets a larger laugh.]
I wonder if that means I win the bet. [Pause.] You've got wet hair to show for it? That's... about it. I mean, it could be worse. It could be a lot worse.
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[There are still regrets over not being able to talk him into the purse-carry. Meanwhile Chase clicks on the video and manages to do a good attempt at looking stony-faced despite the kitten now duelling with some soggy fronds of hair.]
Does she?
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That was one bet. We made another one. About him keeping a beard.
[Her fingers bend across her mouth so she can hide her smile behind it.]
I don't think you're supposed to use her as a scarf.
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[Chase's voice has tones of 'oh really', and that's not a subtle disguise, Claire.]
It is cold. Thought she could tide me over until I put a shirt--OW.
[That swipe landed on his ear.]
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[Switching tracks and she is blatantly laughing now, though she's trying to frown around it, showing how very sad and sorry she is.]
Look at her. She looks like she could fit in my hand. I don't think you'll get much out of her for warmth. [No more laughing, pressing her lips together.] You aren't bleeding, are you?
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[But never mind that, he's rubbing his ear now while the kitten looks disapprovingly at the arm letting its quarry escape.]
I think--[He checks] Not this time. [And carefully scoops the little (ridiculously fluffy) bundle into a cradle between the palm of one hand and his chest, picture going wonky as he stands up.] Maybe she can start putting Peter through the shredder when he gets home.
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