milliways_bar | (no subject)

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((OOM: Things improve.))

There is a rather stunned looking man standing in the doorway of Milliways. He hasn't seen the place for almost a year and a half and it's ... exactly as he remembered it to be, even if he spent quite a bit of time insisting to himself that it could have been some elaborate hallucination.

At any rate, more about him. His hair is trimmed, though somewhat touseled, and he appears to be wearing a khaki uniform and heavy overcoat of the same colour. The sleeves are rolled up and he is dirty.

Dusty is perhaps a more accurate term. The thick goggles are a hint at what he's just come from - his motor bike is parked just outside in the background.

He is blinking. "Well, this certainly isn't the motor shop."

It's hard to tell if he's really bothered by this. The grin on his face suggests that it is in fact a smaller blessing than a curse.

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"Maybe. His name's Aubrey - have you met?"

"Ah, I ... well, it sounds quite familiar."

He doesn't remember exactly, however.

"He's a nice sort. Vampire, like me. I think you'd get along quite well."

There's something.

"I think that we've met, yes."

"Good."

Moves a couple steps forward, hesitating. Not sure how comfortable he'll be with her.

He smiles lightly, reaching over to ruffle her hair again.

"All right, then?"

So she moves amother step closer.

"Who, me?"

"Yes, you."

After a moment, he curls an arm around her shoulder. It's only slightly awkward - but hey, it's been over a year.

"I'm fine. Always, remember?"

Snuggles a little deeper, with only the slightest frown. She misses his robes.

He glances down at her.

"You're going to get quite dirty, Mal." But he's not objecting to the snuggling.

"Meh."

Plucks at his collar a little.

"What happened to your robes?"

"I am on speaking terms with the British Militia again. And Robes are rather hard to ride motor bike with."

It's an explaination.

Her expression shows very clearly what she thinks about this.

"Well. You're here, now."

He arches a brow.

"I wasn't aware that you had a dress code for friends."

"Your robes are warm."

Just pointing this out.

"And warm is good."

A nod.

"And I am not warm by myself?"

"You are. But the uniform isn't."

And who knows if she's even talking literal heat, anymore.

"I see."

He sighs, ruffling her hair again. "Well, I'll try and find some robes again."

"That'd be good."

A soft smile.

"You miss me?"

"Of course."

A nod. And he did, really.

"I missed you. Parker doesn't snuggle quite the way you do."

"He's still quite good from what I remember."

A smile.

"Quite good. But different."

She'd gotten used to sand and warmth and rough cloth.

There's a nod.

"Perhaps so. I'm glad you got along with him."

"He's a nice guy. A little messed up."

Gaze slides into the distance for a moment.