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Charlie is playing guitar out by the lake, singing :
You can look at the menu but you just can't eat
You can feel the cushions but you can't have a seat
You can dip your foot in the pool but you can't have a swim
You can feel the punishment but you can't commit the sin

And you want her
and she wants you
We want everyone
And you want her
and she wants you
No one, no one, no one ever is to blame

You can build a mansion but you just can't live in
You're the fastest runner but you're not allowed to win
Some break the rules
And live to count the cost
The insecurity is the thing that won't get lost

And you want her
and she wants you
We want everyone
And you want her
and she wants you
No one, no one, no one ever is to blame

You can see the summit but you can't reach it
It's the last piece of the puzzle but you just can't make it fit
Doctor says you're cured but you still feel the pain
Aspirations in the clouds but your hopes go down the drain

And you want her
and she wants you
We want everyone
And you want her
and she wants you
No one, no one, no one ever is to blame
No one ever is to blame
No one ever is to blame

Move along, nothing subliminal happening here.

[~~ooc: must invoke great slowtime of going home. will be back shortly.~~]

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Derek casts his pole out into the lake. He happens to like fly fishing. He's not too sure whether there's any trouts or game fish in this lake at the end of the universe but well, he's willing to give it a shot. And he doesn't mind the singing. In fact, he likes the singing.

Well, that's good because there's plenty more where that came from.

I was on your porch,
the smoke sank into my skin so I came inside to be with you
and we talked all night, about everything
We could imagine cause come the morning I'll be gone
and as our eyes start to close I turn to you and I let you know that I
Love you
well my dad was sick and my mom she cared for him
her love it nursed him back to life
and me I ran, I couldn't even
Look at him for fear I'd have to say goodbye
and as I start to leave he grabs me by the shoulder
and he tells me what's left
To lose, you've done enough and if you fail
well then you fail but not to us
'cause these last three years, I know they've been
Hard but now it's time to get out of the desert and into the sun
even if it's alone
so now here I sit, in a hotel off of
Sunset my thoughts bounce off of Sam's guitar
and that's the way it's been, ever since we were kids
but now, now we'e got
Something to prove and I, I can see their eyes
but tell me something, can they see mine
cause what's left to lose, I've done
Enough and if I fail well then I fail
but I gave it a shot and these last three years,
I know they've been hard but now it's
Time to get out of the desert and into the sun
even if it's alone
I was on your porch last night, the smoke it sank into my skin

He notices he has company and says, "Hullo."

(There's probably fish in the lake. The giant squids have to live on something.)

He takes in the noticeable British accent and smiles. "You know, your voice sounds familiar. It's like I've heard you sing before."

Charlie perks up at this. He likes fans! "D'you ever hear of a band called Driveshaft?"

He thinks it about it for a moment before shaking his head. "I've heard of Drive-In." He remembers the indie band from Al Paso, Texas. Post-Hardcore. Alternative rock. Punk. They died out in 2001. "They had a few good singles."

"Ah. Not us, then."

He holds out a hand. "I'm Charlie."

"Derek." He returns the handshake with an easy smile. "So you're in a band?"

"Strictly speaking, not anymore. But I was for a while. Driveshaft, out of Manchester. We had a hit," he adds hopefully. "'Round about 2000, on certain variations of Earth."

"Really?" Derek looks amused. "Well, if you have a copy of your album, I'll take a listen to it. If it's anything like The Clash, I'll be hooked." He stares out at the lake for a moment. Still no fish.

He laughs. "I've got one--got it on CD. We're . . . not like the Clash a'tall, though. More like Oasis, but poppier."

He grimaces a little. He was a teenager then. That's his only excuse.

"Sounds interesting," he says with a smile.

"Where are you from?" Derek makes an assumption that Charlie's from England but you can never really tell around here. It's always good to ask.

"Manchester," he says cheerfully. "And you?"

"Seattle. Previously New York." He casts. Again. "When did you get here?"

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Bond goes outside more often now that it’s warm. He and a lot of other people. Bond’s not a social person, but he enjoys atmosphere, and often the atmospheres he enjoys are the atmospheres created by people; so he’s not annoyed at all when he sees Charlie singing by the lake. In fact, he grins, though he suspects the musician is too wrapped up in his tunes to notice the other man walking by.

(Short form of this is: it’s about time they spoke.)

At first Charlie is too wrapped up to notice, because music > life, after all . . . but when he pauses to think about what song he wants to do next he snaps to, and smiles.

"Hullo. Lovely day, isn't it?"

Ah.

Bond stops, hands shoved in his trouser pockets. “It is,” he replies, gazing out over the lake.

"Particularly for walking and standing," Charlie remarks. "And singing, but I've yet to see a bad day for singing."

He laughs. “Except when the weather’s inclement. Can’t sing when rain keeps falling in your mouth.” He tilts his head, grinning quizzically. “I guess you could, just not well.”

"Only if it's raining hurricane-hard," Charlie says with a nod, and the air of someone who's done it. "Even then the show must go on."

He holds out his hand. "I'm Charlie."

Ah. He’s a very dedicated musician type, then. Bond grins, reaching out to shake Charlie’s hand firmly.

“James.”

Charlie’s not handing out his last name, so Bond sees no reason why he should hand out his.

Well, he usually doesn't.

"Pleased to meet you. What's your where and when?"

Best to get the preliminaries out of the way. Finding a point of reference is always nice.

“London, 2006. On a very, very mundane earth.”

"Modern boy, then," Charlie says with a nod. "Though I wouldn't let appearances fool you. I thought my Earth was as normal as they come but nothing could be further from the truth. It's spooky at times, mate."

“Spooky how?”

Bond’s world is not mundane on account of being James Bond’s world, where weird shit happens all the time.

"I live on a deserted island that has polar bears and a monster made of smoke," Charlie says matter-of-factly.

He's had enough time to get used to it.