(Untitled)

[themanclion]

When Gene comes in tonight, he looks cheerful enough. As usual, he heads straight for the bar and orders a pint with a whiskey chaser. He's a bit thrown when he gets a napkin instead.

'...you what?'

Another napkin, which says much the same thing.

'Not on your bloody life, luv.'

Yet another, with the same polite request and, just maybe, a mention of the

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[scots_wolf]

"Now you will have to serve me scotch," Urquhart says, leaning on the bar and grinning like a shark at the tender.

[scots_wolf]

Urquhart leans on the bar with both elbows.

"I do as well," he says. "So I am waiting for you to lose it first."

Beat.

"I'm not getting all furious about your mere existence, after all. You're just some little English policeman. All snarly and foul-mouthed, but not really important to me."

[themanclion]

'You'll be waitin' a long time then, Sonny Jim.'

For all his bluster, fist-throwing and action now! attitude, Gene is perfectly capable of holding himself back when he has to.

'An' you go ahead an' think that if y'like. No skin off my nose.'

He's a legend, where he comes from. And isn't all that foul-mouthed, by comparison to some others. Just a product of his time.

[scots_wolf]

Urquhart leans on the bar, starts humming 'Hills Of Argyll' and drumming with his fingers.

[themanclion]

Gene leans comfortably against the back of the bar, arms still folded, and just...does nothing. Except watch the bloke, obviously.

[scots_wolf]

Urquhart has a remarkable repertory of Scottish music that he can hum while he waits for his scotch.

[themanclion]

And Gene has other people to serve and chat to, which he does.

But he always comes back when he has time and resumes his position, unmoving.

[scots_wolf]

"Scotch, please," Urquhart says when he comes back the third time.

[themanclion]

'I know you ain't deaf an' I know you understan' plain English.'

Not moving.

'So I won' bother sayin' it again.'

[scots_wolf]

"I'm very stubborn," Urquhart says.

[themanclion]

'Not as stubborn as me, pal.'

He says it with absolute conviction. He knows how long this shift lasts and all he has to do to win is not give the man a drink. Easy as pie.

'You wan' t'waste a few hours of your life when you could get your drink off those rats, you go ahead. Die of thirst f'r all I care.'

[scots_wolf]

"I'll go away and take my abhorrent countenance out of your line of sight the moment you give me my scotch," Urquhart offers.

[themanclion]

'Not a chance.'

He sneers, just a touch.

'Lookin' at ya ain' a problem, 'specially as I c'n see wha' you're up to when you're parked in front o'me.'

[scots_wolf]

"You might not want to," Urquhart says, taking out his crossbow and turning it in his hands.

It's not loaded, of course. And with a crossbow, unlike a gun, you can clearly see that.

[themanclion]

Still not worried. He didn't get where he is by giving in at the first sign of threat.

'Load it an' point it, Goldilocks, an' I don' care what my jurisdiction is, you'll go down so fast you'll think its last Tuesday.'

[scots_wolf]

Urquhart inspects it all over, and starts polishing a spot on the stock.

"I have killed so many people with this thing..." he says, casually.