Ben Wade (
almosthonorable) wrote in
milliways_bar2010-08-22 05:12 pm
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Entry tags:
[ happy hour ]
Not one to pass up a good business opportunity, Ben’s behind the counter, aiming to earn some credit toward what’s left of his tab.
† bourbon
† milkshakes
† bourbon milkshakes
The bar is fairly quiet at the moment, so Ben’s leaning on one elbow, doodling on a napkin.
[ tiny tags: gene hunt, mark hoffman, moist von lipwig ]
[ ooc:
eta, 8:33 p.m.: AHAHA, you people. THANK YOU ALL. closed to new threads, but i'll be hitting these as i can before bed tonight, and tagging back all slows tomorrow for those who want 'em! ♥! (threadhopping, o' course, is still encouraged.) ]
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He doesn't sound like he's taking the piss on that one. What he saw in those pictures - that's not something to joke about, ever.
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'Wha's DNA?'
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Surely, that's got to count for something.
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'Bollocks.'
The bloke's speaking sci-fi. Has to be.
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Because even Gene would have to agree, SOCO are a bunch of nerds.
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Beat.
'An' they're pointless anyway, most o'the time. Bloody civilians doin' police work.'
Not that he ever enjoyed collecting evidence from a crime scene but then, they never did much of it to start off with.
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"How do you identify a killer, if the body was dumped somewhere away from the actual scene? What if the killer had been wearing gloves, and didn't leave any prints behind? How do you know, beyond any reasonable doubt, who your murderer is?"
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He leaves out the bit where they sometimes just pull someone off the 'most hated' list and charge them with it. It gets the press off their backs, anyway.
'Y'know, son. Proper police work.'
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"Most victims fight back," Nicholas says. "They scratch or claw at their attacker, and their attacker's skin gets under their nails. Using that DNA evidence, the case can be solved in under 48 hours. Especially if the attacker has priors."
He wonders if Gene's ever honestly solved a murder in under 48 hours.
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Still, there are occasions when they pull their finger out and do it right, and fast.
'OK, so it's fast. Bu' it don't exist in my time an' we still catch the bastards. So it migh' be useful bu' it don' make a bloke a copper.'
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And then he shakes his head.
"Just wait until you guys have to start investigating computer crimes. I do not envy that job."
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He looks blank.
'They're the size o'my livin' room, as far as I know. Don' think anyone'd try an' nick 'em.'
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Now he knows he's talking shite.
'Computers are pointless an' for poofs an' eggheads who like to stand around an' wank over rubbish tha' no one else understands. They need t'get a real job.'
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"See for yourself. Everyone has them."
He trusts that Gene will be nice to it.
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He makes no move to pick it up.
'Wha' is it?'
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"It's my phone," he says simply. And then he puts the ringer back on vibrate. "Most people have them, in my time."
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This may seem like nothing to someone from 2002 but in 1973, they still have to talk to an operator to get connected on a normal phone. It's like space-age technology.
'You go' flyin' cars too?'
It's asked sarcastically but there's a good chance he's genuinally curious. Any TV show that depicts the twenty first century generally has something to say about flying cars. He's quite looking forward to it, if it turns out to be true.
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He does have to laugh a bit at Gene's second question, though.
"No, I'm afraid not. We still run everything on petrol, even in 2002. We don't have jetpacks, either. Or robots."
Well... not robots like Gene is probably imagining, by any rate. But we'll ignore that for now.
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He sniffs and looks away. Nicholas is such a let down. He so wants to meet someone who lives on the moon.
'Bet you've got some decent motors though.'
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The moon is so 1960s.
"I'm afraid I don't know much about cars, though." He decides it wise to leave out the part about how he doesn't drive on ecological grounds.
"Our panda cars are mostly Vauxhall Astras and Vectras. You can get them up to 100 miles an hour, but not that you ever need to in the city."
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