(no subject)

[the_gene_genie]

Gene was in a bad mood earlier because, it being Saturday, by rights he should be at the footy. But he had to work. It's just wrong. 

Luckily, someone had the good sense to be a dipstick and try to hold up a post office with a pair of tights on their head. And then somehow thought they could outsprint the Cortina in a flamin' Datsun Cherry. Nothing improves his mood like a car chase, so he's positively chipper when he strides through the door.

'Thought you'd buggered off on me for good,' he tells Bar. 'Get us a pint in, luv.'

And seeing as it has to be his turn, he pulls his Security badge out of his pocket, and pins it on. Might as well make himself useful.

Comments

[immortalthief]

"I know the feeling" she greets the arrival.

Offering her hand, after he has had a chance to take a sip of his pint, "I'm Amanda" in front of her is a glass of red wine. She is about 6 foot tall, shoulder length blond hair, wearing black crop pants and a white cotton yoga shirt.

[the_gene_genie]

Gene's eyebrows go up. Tasty.

He shakes her hand, even if it's weird to him when women do it.

'Gene Hunt.'

[immortalthief]

"Nice to meet you." with a bright smile.

Taking a sip of her wine, "Where and when do you come from?" she thinks she knows from his accent and cloths but she has been in Milliways long enough to not take anything for granted.



[OOC: Do you mind if Amanda recognizes him as being a cop? She has been a criminal for nearly 1200 years.]

[the_gene_genie]

'You an' all, luv.'

He quite openly looks her up and down, and then picks his pint up.

'Manchester, 1973. You?'


[OOC: Sure thing! It's practically stamped on his forehead anyway.]

[immortalthief]

"Los Angeles, 2014. Catch any bad guys today?" calmly sipping her wine as only someone who has spent her fair share of time in police stations could.

[the_gene_genie]

His chest puffs up, just a bit. He loves being taken for a copper.

'Always. Almost made up for missin' the match.'

Almost.

'Why? You a copper, an' all?'

[immortalthief]

"No, not a copper." she chuckles and gets mischievous look in her eyes, "These days I write novels."

"What's your beat?"

[the_gene_genie]

'Anywhere I bloody well say it is. I'm a DCI.'

Well. Anywhere in A'Division. He'll just keep that bit to himself. And he looks a bit suspicious now.

'You're a writer?'

Ugh.

[immortalthief]

"Yes, I currently write romance novels. Which is not nearly as much fun as the circus, or international art thief, but it has it's advantages."

[sunbaked_baker]

When Gene comes in, there's a baker leaving a a good-sized plate of food with the Bar, a full meal, really, with instructions for it to be given to a friend of hers next time he comes to the bar.

Once it disappears, Rae turns to start organizing he tray of baked goods for sale.

"Hey there, stranger," she calls with a smile, seeing Gene. It has been forever, it seems, since she had seen him around here.

[the_gene_genie]

'Alright, luv?'

He grins at her easily, and lights a fag. It does feel like it's been forever, and she's always nice to talk to.

'Feeding someone up? Lucky git.'

[sunbaked_baker]

"Lucky git who tends to skip meals and sleep to the point of passing out - making any baker who happens to be his friend look bad," she explains, wry.

She's taking a proactive approach.

"I'm generally all right," though she has picked up a few more scars since he saw her last. "How about you?"

[the_gene_genie]

'Aye, y'know. Can't complain.'

Can't, won't. Same difference. He looks her over with an appraising eye, frowns a bit at the state of her, and has a drink. The first one always goes down quick.

'If he's skipping your meals, he deserves to starve to death.'

Tosser.

'What's 'generally' mean?'

[sunbaked_baker]

"'Generally' means I'm not physically hurt, or in any immediate danger," she says, wryly, offering him a plate with one of the humongous, gooey cinnamon rolls upon it.

"Specifically, things are a mess. Here and back home."

[the_gene_genie]

And of course he takes one, because he's not a tosser.

'Ta.'

He has a big bite before going any further. Priorities.

'Let's start with here, shall we? Can't do much about your world. What's goin' on?'

[sunbaked_baker]

Rae sighs, trying to figure out how to word this.

"This friend of mine isn't taking care of himself, and has gotten himself involved with a vampire. The vampire gets a square meal out of the arrangement, and my friend gets the exhilaration of powerlessness and flirting with death. He admits these are stupid life choices, but then when I point it out to him that he should then change his life choices, he claims I don't trust him to do what's right for himself."

Like arguing with a drunk over who gets the car keys. Though perhaps that's not a comparison she should make to Gene.

"He's the one who ended up in the infirmary for skipping sleep and not eating enough to replenish his red blood cell count."

[the_gene_genie]

Well, he reckons he was definitely right in his first assessment of this nameless bloke. And Sunshine's not wrong in her assessment of Gene's views on drunk driving.

Nevertheless, he frowns. A serious expression only slightly ruined by the dab of icing on his nose.

'Hang on. So...he's feeding a vampire through choice.'

Mistake number one.

'And when you tell him he's bein' a twat, he tells you he can look after himself. Only worse, 'cos he's making it sound like it's your fault you give a toss about him at all.'

He has another drink.

'He's a twat, luv. An' he won't listen until he's been feeling like crap long enough to realise that you're right. Best just to leave him to it.'

Every problem is this simple to Gene.

[fry_sandhu]

Fry looks rather fed up as well. He never likes uncertainty.

Dad told him to hang around with safe people if he came in here, so as soon as Gene appears, he goes and hovers next to him. His expression isn't so much worried as unsure, and his attention is distracted momentarily by running his finger down a line in the wood of the bar...

It's a good line. No matter which furniture gets moved, Bar is always the same.

[the_gene_genie]

'Alright, mate. Long time no see.'

Gene's attention is distracted momentarily by his pint, but he swings it back to the boy soon enough.

'You OK?'

[fry_sandhu]

OK is an abstract concept. Fry runs his finger down to the bottom of the bar, because you don't stop in the middle of a line, before glancing up at Gene.

"I want my friend back. Have you fixed it yet?" he asks.

[the_gene_genie]

...OK.

'What friend? And what am I supposed to fix?'

[fry_sandhu]

"Dr Lecter. Daddy says I can't talk to him until Security have seen if he's done bad things." Fry says. "Have you fixed it yet?"

He flaps his hands, nervously.

[the_gene_genie]

Flapping hands. Not a good sign. Gene eyes him, and resists the urge to light a fag. He's not sure if these two comments are related, or if he's simply forgotten to do something important. It'd hardly be the first time.

He leans down so he's closer to Fry's level, and his tone is gently probing.

'What am I supposed to fix, mate? Somethin' with Doctor Lecter?'

[fry_sandhu]

Fry nods. The hand flapping remains, for now.

"Dr Lecter is my friend, he gave me a book. Daddy said I can't talk to him any more until we know if he did bad things."

He gives just a glance at Gene, but no proper eye contact.

"I need to know if he's still my friend. I don't like maybe."

[the_gene_genie]

'Right. OK.'

Well, it's better than being something he did.

'I haven't been to the office yet, mate. What bad things is he supposed to have done, do you know?'

He's obviously needs a word with Guppy sometime soon.