(Untitled)

[how_itgoes]

It's like water in your ears

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[somethingcruel]

Johnny was trying to coax the bookshelf into giving him something other than 1950's romance paperbacks ("She was a slave to his demon lusts!"), and glanced over his shoulder when he heard the static. Alert: possibly insane Mancunian cop at 10:00.

"That's me favorite song," he remarked, nodding at the radio. "I especially like that bit that goes 'ksshhhshshsh'."

[how_itgoes]

Sam's just giving it another thwack with his palm, just like Gene would do with any of his suspects. Real fine judiciary system they had back in the 70's. "You're a real comedian, aren't you?" Sam deadpans, barely glancing up as he fiddles with the dials before giving up. "Useless piece of garbage," he mutters.

[somethingcruel]

"If you don't have a sense of humor about this place, you'll go mad." Or more mad, as the case may be.

"Here, let's see if we can get the jukebox to play something a bit more catchy," he added helpfully, and went over to it. The jukebox responded by playing "How Soon is Now," by the Smiths, and Johnny grinned. "Best song ever written by a Mancunian."

[how_itgoes]

Sam just glances up at the jukebox, forehead piling up under furrows. "Smiths," he acknowledges. "Not exactly the end all and be all of music," Sam remarks, almost tartly as he finally looks up.

[all_happening]

The day before, the record pile had given Penny her first Bowie since she'd arrived, and she walked into the rec room with Hunky Dory under one arm, camera in her other hand and green coat in the crook of her elbow. The static, she payed no attention to, just walked to the turntable, leaving the coat in a heap on the floor somewhere along the way. "You mind Bowie?" she asked in lieu of a greeting, looking over her shoulder at Sam with a small smile as she set the record down, the needle in her hand an inch away from the vinyl.

[how_itgoes]

Sam looks up, distracted, and it takes a good moment for her words to sink in. And when they do, she's already started playing it and it's too late for protests and his reason would sound silly (it reminds me of how I'm a nutter). "No. He's...fine."

[all_happening]

It's a god-awful small affair to the girl with the mousey hair, David Bowie sang, and Penny smiled as she walked over to the couch and flopped down. "His security guard, Dennis, is the sweetest," she said, and it was all an act again, just like back home.

[how_itgoes]

"You just knew everyone," Sam observes, something of a bemused smile on his face now as he wonders if maybe Penny's just his subconscious wanting to meet every rocker in history.

[wpc_ridinghood]

It was where she'd appeared, though that still didn't make much sense, and so Annie seemed to gravitate towards the rec room. The clothes box, so far, hadn't been too unkind, and though jeans and a big black t-shirt weren't quite the sort of things she'd worn when working back home, it's what she wore when she walked into the room to find Sam with a radio giving off static. "You alright, Sam?" she asked, coming over purely out of instinct. "Radio giving you trouble?"

[how_itgoes]

Sam glances up, always relieved to see her, always. She's the shining light cutting through clouds, but he still gives the radio a smack. "This bloody thing," he mutters. "Keeps cutting in and out."

[wpc_ridinghood]

"I could give it a look," Annie offered, with a small smile if only for the encouragement. "Can't guarantee that I'd be too much help, but it might be worth a try, right?" And her smile widened, in that hopeful way it did.

[how_itgoes]

Sam just smiles up at her. "Gene was right," he says quietly. "Nancy Drew." But it's fond, really, completely through and through. "Y'always have an answer to the problem. Even if it's in a foreign language."

[a_sport]

"What's not funny?" Calvin asked absently as he walked into the room, reading a notebook as he walks into the room. He glanced up from his notes on tide pools to look up at Sam, eyebrows going up. "Something wrong with the radio?"

[how_itgoes]

"Can't get a signal," he says, shaking it by his ear like he'll hear something rattling about in there that he could give a good knock loose. "Strange."

[a_sport]

Calvin underlined something in his notes and wrote a few words on them, then nodded as if satisfied and looked up. "Maybe nobody's having a show right now? We only ever seem to be able to pick up the one station."

[how_itgoes]

"I heard music," Sam says, sure of that. He looks up, tapping the radio, tap, tap, tap. "I swear, I heard Bowie playing on this and not the jukebox, but now it's gone and it's just..."

Static.