Jack was beginning to find ways of fitting in around the house. He'd claimed a couch to sleep on, which suited him just fine until something or somewhere else came up. After a bit of trial and error, he'd managed to get the laundry machines running to get his suit cleaned. And he'd found the liquor cabinet. He'd needed that, after the conversation
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Comments 57
"Oh, I'm sorry!" she exclaimed, stumbling, but, since it was, technically, her fault, happy to accept the blame for once. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"
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"Not at all, miss," he said, automatically standing up when he saw the person who'd run into him was indeed a woman; old etiquette died hard.
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"Liz, please," she said, gently, "Are you sure you're alright? Or, at least, moderately alright? Drinking alone doesn't generally create the most positive of images..."
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"Oh," he replied, somewhat dumbly. "Well, it's been some time since I had anything like a proper Earth pint. And being on Earth hasn't made me very alright."
He sat back down on the steps, swinging the bottle between his fingers, and resumed his contemplation of the yard. Normally he would have thought to ask her to sit first.
"It looks very different," he said after a moment. "But still very much the same. I wonder how much Godalming will have changed."
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"You gonna drink that by yourself?"
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"That was the idea, yes."
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"Damn. There's a no-booze-for-Fitz conspiracy, I swear."
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