{ scene } remember when we were gambling to win
After leaving Stigmata - a couple of drinks and a slight headache later - James can feel the conversation he hasn't had with Pela looming on the near horizon. The house is quiet (except for the cat, who winds around James's like ankles like it knows he's not in the mood to deal with somebody's fucking cat) when they get back, and he weighs the odds ( Read more... )
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Pela, helpfully, tsks at the cat to send it wandering the halls of the house away from them - it can get in and out, it's clever, and she doesn't feel like teaching it how to Behave. It knows how to be when she tells it, even if it's not really one of her subjects.
"Of course. We understood one another. What did you think of her? Since she seemed to know you, sort of..."
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"I think she's a pit viper," he responds, in that pleasant tone of voice he adopts sometimes that isn't, actually. "And she thinks she knows me."
It skates just close enough to being true to make him uncomfortable, even if he might be willing to like her a little, himself. He's decided she liked him, regardless of whether or not she actually did - and she'd probably pick that, too, damn her. He pauses, and then says, more levelly, "It's important she doesn't find out what I'm doing here."
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"Because...?" She can guess, and her tone suggests she has a few ideas, but she does want the full explanation. (Perhaps partially just to make him give it.)
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James exhales, irritated and not - for once - with Pela. He works off his jacket, sitting down and producing his cigarettes to accompany this explanation she needs.
"Because I'm going to be buggered if M back in London finds out what I'm up to, and the last thing I need is a preview from her." Not to mention the potential for run off over onto his alternate who is under her authority; he already suspects he's going to be hearing about this conversation. No need to make matters worse for the both of them, right?
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