(Untitled)

[themanclion]

He will never understand this place. Time moves in ways it bloody well shouldn't. It's only been twenty minutes since he was last here, only now it appears to be Christmas, if the decorations are to be believed.

He walks to the bar. 'You're tryin' to tell me somethin', aren't you?'

There is no reply. He waits a moment, then sighs. A pint appears.

'

Comments

[missmarybennet]

A young woman walks up. She's wearing a long green dress of a very old style, a grey shawl, and a determined expression. She's carrying a basket over one arm.

Mary stops directly in front of the man, fishes on hand into her basket, and pulls out a candy cane which she holds out to him.

"Merry Christmas, with compliments from Mrs. Sallie Reynolds, Co-Barman."

It's quite eloquent, Mary thinks. She's rehearsed and everything.

[themanclion]

He blinks at it.

'Ta, luv.'

Though he doesn't take it. He's been told about taking food off strangers here. Plus, it has to be said,

'She's not a barman if she's a bird.'

[missmarybennet]

Funny. He sounds English. Rough, but English.

And yet Mary understood less than half of what he just said.

She continues to gamely hold out the candy cane with what she hopes is a polite and pleasant countenance.

"I'm sorry?"

[themanclion]

It's a problem that occurs here with regularity. An unfortunate problem, as it's one Gene places firmly with everyone else. If they can't understand him, that's their problem.

'Why, what've you done?'

He pulls on his cigarette, and raises his gaze to her face. After a moment, he takes pity. Sort of. It is Christmas, after all.

'This Mrs. Reynolds - no idea who she is, by the way - has t'be female, right? So don' call her a 'barman'.'

He's just being pedantic to amuse himself, really. Though he doesn't look all that amused.

[properpolice]

The door opens, and a woman in police uniform comes in, carefully balancing a plate of cookies on top of a stacked pile of files.

The eyeroll heavenwards probably is a fair indicator of how she feels about this development. Still, here she can have a cuppa in peace... and maybe one of the biscuits. And maybe a chance to look at the files without commentary.

[themanclion]

Well. He never thought he'd say this, but;

'Christ Granger, you're a sight for sore eyes.'

He nabs the plate of biscuits off her, and shoves one in his gob. Then he takes the files away.

Perhaps he's being helpful. Or perhaps he just wants to know what he's been missing out on.

[properpolice]

.... So much for no commentary.

"Guv?" There isn't even a thought to keep the files away - he's the Guv. He gets the files. "Where have you been? There's been all sorts of people questioning..."

[themanclion]

He does get the files. And he plonks them on a table, and sits himself behind them at once.

'Away.'

He takes another biscuit. They don't do Garibaldis in Spain.

'Drake's woken up, with a bit of help from Yours Truly. So don' worry about it. Now come 'ere, an' fill me in on what's been goin' on.'