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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And Tom looks up, very afronted.

"What was all that with the note?"

There's blinking before he recalls that he was only gone a few days Bar-Time.

"Well, I hadn't wanted to worry you."

The young man looks no less upset.

"Then you could have told me, man to man, sir!"

"The tricky thing is that I had a rather limited amount of time, Tom. I Should have liked to tell you man to man, as you deserve, but I was no less afraid of losing my nerve than having the door close on itself once again."

He doesn't discourage the clinging in the least.

There's another moment spent watching Lawrence for a moment before he proceeds to start clinging in earnest once more, cheek to Lawrence's chest as he holds tight.

"Don't do it again."

"The thought shall not even cross my mind, Tom."

One of his arms curls around the boy's waist and he smooths a hand through his hair with the arm.

He holds, gives one more squeeze, before bounding back and beaming up at Lawrence.

"But I should tell you of everything I did, Mister Lawrence, and you can tell me of what happened for you back at home."

...he wants to talk, but the fact that there might be tea and biscuits isn't something he's averse to.

"Well, that is most appropriate. I should like to tell you of exactly what happened while I was gone. It was indeed a long sixteen months, after all."

It's still hard to believe it's been that long. But Tom is quite a hard young man to forget. He orders up a pot of tea and biscuits from a waitrat and then moves to settle them both onto a nearby couch.

Tom follows and settles down besides Lawrence.

"Sixteen months!"

"Yes, quite a long time. I should think that I have done quite a lot, but I do not doubt you will have much to say as well."

He curls an arm amiably around the young man.

"Your first, Mister Lawrence. No doubt your tale will be longer and far more interesting than mine."

A laugh. "Longer, perhaps, but it is largely political drabble."

And things that he would rather not share with Tom about someone he loved very much - best not to muddle the poor boy's mind with such things.

He gives Lawrence a Look.

"Are you treating me as a boy, Mister Lawrence?"

He shakes his head, smiling to Tom.

"It's simply that I find it quite boring myself, for the most part. I would suspect the same of you - old men with cigars are useful for very few things, after all." Not that he didn't like 'Winnie'.

He takes that in for a moment before nodding.

"All right, sir, if you say."

Then he makes a dive for the tea and the biscuits.

Lawrence laughs faintly.

"To make a rather lengthy story short - I met with the Prime Minister of Britain and we were able to come to an agreement. We went to Cairo and my good friend Prince Feisal was crowned King of Iraq."

These are all very important words. He then picks up a biscuit for himself and nibbles.

And his eyes go wide.

"The Prime Minister, sir?!"

"Yes, quite. A very interesting man who insists that I call him 'Winnie'. He likes cigars over cigarettes, which is quite odd."

He's ruffling Tom's hair. "It was a most agreeable arrangement."

And he's still goggling before he turns to look up at Lawrence with a crooked smile.

"That's good then. Anything else?"

"Well, I've purchased a new motor bike." It goes even faster than his old one. Which is mind boggling.

"A new what, sir?"

Ah, right.

"Well .. do you have motorized coaches in your time yet, Tom, or do you simply have horse and carriage?"

"Horse and carriage, sir, of course," he says, as if this was only logical.

"Ah, of course."

He ruffles Tom's hair.

"Well, a motor bike is somewhat like ... well, if you imagine a horse and carriage that runs without a horse - it's a bit like that, but built for one person. It is somewhat like a bicycle, but you need not pedal. And it is larger, of course."

"Is it possessed by SPIRITS, sir? Or MAGIC?!"

...he still hasn't gotten used to that last one.