milliways_bar | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

After last night's conversation with Trudy, his bags are packed and ready. All he needs to do is settle his account with Bar's tab system (which only takes a few minutes) and write a few notes, and then he's going to head out for his world.

All right, so he's going to have a cup of coffee, first, and then head out.

Feel free to catch him at the bar before he goes.

[Last post in bar before he heads out into the realm of 24verse to move along towards canon!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Ah, coffee," Trudy says, leaning against the bar next to him. "The drink of champions."

She's also dressed to head back to her world, but she's not going yet. She's going to see him go out his door first.

He tips his head towards his door.

"It's still morning out there, I figure if I'm going to be pulling a really long day, it couldn't hurt."

They both know he doesn't need caffeine to stay awake; neither of them do. It's just an attempt at being normal.

"Sure. And it's not just because it's damn good coffee."

"Not at all."

He pauses in note writing to sip from his mug, glancing over at her.

"Got anything exciting planned for the day on Pandora?"

"Nope. And if I'm really lucky, it's going to stay unexciting." Beat. "All pilot meeting. It'll be fun."

"I can trust you not to get bored and go lookin' for crazy shite to do, so I'm okay with that."

Unexciting can be a good thing. In her case, and in his, it is definitely good.

"I don't need to look for it," she mutters.

"True."

Another sip of coffee, then:

"Hopefully they'll wait until after the meeting to start it?"

"Actually not them so much I'm worried about. I need to go and get Augustine and the PhDs to be useful."

"Hopefully she doesn't give you much trouble, then."

His coffee mug is one sip away from empty. He's ignoring it, at the moment.

Trudy snorts.

"Please. She lives to make things difficult. It makes her feel warm and fuzzy."

"If it wouldn't be impossible, I'd suggest buying her a puppy as a distraction tactic."

"Oh, no. Any puppies will be for me."

Beat.

"But I could totally see her with a snake."

"Big dogs or little dogs?"

These, clearly, are Important Matters in a relationship.

"Doesn't matter, as long as it wouldn't one of those purebreed glorified rats." And then, more wistful, "a dog I could play with."

Edited 2011-03-20 03:42 (UTC)

"No AKC champions, got it."

He'll keep it in mind -- it's not like they're going to be anywhere near that conversation for years, at least -- but it'll stay there.

Carl eyes his coffee, then goes back to writing a note.

There is a moment of silence.

And then her hand snakes out, grabs his cup, and lifts to her lips.

It only takes a sip to make it empty.

"...I was gonna finish it."

"Sure you were."

"I was, after I finished this note."

And with a stab of the pen against the page, he's done.

The handful of folded papers (there's not many at all) disappear into the countertop, and he turns on the barstool to face her.

"Part of me was stallin' a bit, but...I know I've got to head out 'fore you do."

"Yeah," she says, a bit more quieter. "Well, 'least you don't have to write me a note."

"I wouldn't have left without talkin' to you first."

He has before, but this time...this is different.

"You take care of yourself out there, alright love?"

She smiles, a little. "I'll try. But you try, too, okay?"

"I always do."

He hops off the barstool (no hesitation, and she'll be able to sense the faint air of disconnect; he's gone into the deployment mindset and he won't drop out of it until he hits the ground in London) and reaches for a hug.

That, he will allow himself.

The disconnect is...odd. Seeing it from the outside. Still, she straightens up and steps close and hugs him.

Tightly.

He's never had to do this before; never had to step through a door with someone waiting for him to come back. It's...different, and something he'll have to break down and analyze in the days to come.

"Don't worry 'bout me, Marine," he mutters. "And try not to have too much fun without me, either."

He presses his lips against her cheek, and then smirks.

"I promise I'll shave before I get back, this time 'round."

She laughs at that. "Yeah, you'd better."

"You've my word, no lumberjack beard."

He steps back, lightly squeezing her hip before he moves to grab his bags.

"I might be persuaded by a goatee, though. You could try and be all debonair and shit."

She shoves her hands in her pockets, quite deliberately.

Carl takes this opportunity to turn around and 'twirl' an imaginary handlebar mustache between his thumb and forefinger.

"Now that is something I'll have to consider."

"HAH. Right." She takes a deep breath. "So. Goodbye, then."

He nods, a single nod that is steady and resolute without being too stiff.

"Yeah," he agrees. One hand on the doorknob, he turns and it exposes a generic hotel room on the far side. "Be seein' you."

With a casual salute tossed at her as he slips through the door, he's gone with nothing lingering save for the quiet click of the lock behind him.

"Be seein' you," she says, and watches him go.

It's only after he shuts the door that she slumps, leans back against the bar and runs her fingers through her hair.

He'll be fine.

He'll be fine.

And as soon as she convinces herself of that, she's heading straight back to her world.

(it is, perhaps, a good thing that time doesn't pass while she's here)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only