milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Wells slips into the Bar from upstairs, pausing at the bar only to pick up dinner and his usual pint of Bass. There's no one at the booth he likes, so he appropriates the table, sets the folder marked GRUINARD ISLAND down nearby, and starts in on dinner. He'll go over the plans later; there's some stuff in there he really doesn't want to try to read while eating.

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He nods.

"Not the first time I've had something like this happen."

Then he realizes what he'd said.

"Not that I'm, that is... I'm not clumsy, I just--"

And he shakes his head.

"Forget I said anything?"

"Well, if you want," says Wells with a shrug. "But there's a fair number of people here who heal bloody quick, I've found. You'd be surprised."

He laughs and shakes his head.

"No, I'm nothing like that. Not some... government experiment or something."

The eyebrows jerk upward instinctively at that; Wells can't help it. "Is that so?" he murmurs.

And he looks nervous.

"Uh...yes."

Wells considers the man for a while. Eventually, he turns and touches the bar top. "What's your poison?" he says. "This one's on me."

He turns, slowly, and nods to the counter.

"Another glass of what I was having, then."

He still looks a little nervous.

"Any reason for that?"

"Been in your shoes, is all," says Wells. "Or somewhere similar, anyway. Government experiment style, I mean."

He looks relieved for half a second before obviously figuring out he should be looking as such before taking a long sip of his drink.

Wells smiles a little and turns to his Bass. When he judges there's been enough time and room to recover, he says, "'m hopin' it won't be a problem much longer."

He raises an eyebrow.

"How'd you mean?"

Wells scoops up the folder that was on the counter in front of him. "Might be payin' them a little visit soon," he says. "Assuming I can get things in order first, of course."

Now he looks interested.

"Really?"

"Mmm," says Wells, with just a little bit of a smile. "'Course, I can't put out any particular details just now, but- have you ever heard of somewhere called Gruinard?"

His eyes dart back and forth between his drink and Wells.

"C-can't say I have."

Up go the eyebrows; Wells nods. "All right, then," he says. "No worries. You're safe."

He raises his glass with a small smile before taking another pull.

He nods at Wells and gulps down more of his drink before growling at himself and taking a more measured sip. There's a moment's sipping from his glass before he straightens his suit a little and looks towards the stairs.

"Mind if I, uh... head off then?"

"Not at all," Wells says. "See you about, maybe."

He nods, perhaps a little too fast for that "calm" exterior before heading up the stairs.

His pace slows when he gets past the bend in the stairs and a smile stretches across his face.

Interesting.

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