Tom's been in the mood to come to Milliways more often, and he's had the time, by some sheer miracle. It's interesting to meet new people, after all. And the scotch is so so good.
He notices the woman looking for a bartender.
"Good evening. You might have better luck hailing a waitrat. Shall I call one over for you? I need a drink anyway."
"It's a very- relaxed place, for the most part. If you need to stay the night, there are rooms upstairs. You'll run a tab for whatever you purchase, but you needn't pay right away. Most people are pleasant, and those who aren't can be dealt with by Security."
"Me too," he says with a smile. "It's a second home for me, really. But my first home calls to me now. I only have a little spare time to 'pop round to the pub'. Will you be alright on your own, do you think?"
He only asks out of courtesy. He gets the feeling that this lady can hold her own.
"Very good. If you should need anyone, you'll find many helpful people here. If I may ever be of assistance, I'm known here. Oh, and Bar? I mean, Mike, do put this lady's next drink on my tab. Good evening, Dahlia."
He gives her a small bow and turns, walking through the House of Arch painting. Which no doubt will lend credence to her hallucination theory.
He notices the woman looking for a bartender.
"Good evening. You might have better luck hailing a waitrat. Shall I call one over for you? I need a drink anyway."
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Most of the time.
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Or hallucinated, for that matter.
Though, now, strangely enough, she feels just a tad bit guilty for being so brusque with him earlier.
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He only asks out of courtesy. He gets the feeling that this lady can hold her own.
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This is the first time that one of her hallucinations has basically said, "Okay, gotta run."
"Yeah, of course."
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He gives her a small bow and turns, walking through the House of Arch painting. Which no doubt will lend credence to her hallucination theory.
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