(no subject)

[never_shall_yield]

 
Javert has been outside all day, carving wood. There is a strong smell of resin and sawdust about him when he comes inside, and his usually spotless clothes are flecked with chippings. There is no help for it; it is too cold to continue out on the building site and so he drops some wood and tools on his table, and orders a coffee at the bar to warm his hands back up.

It comes with two very odd notes.

The first he scowls at. The second just gets confusion. What is a hen party? And, more importantly-

'What is 'fifties biker'?'

Bar does not see fit to enlighten him. He retreats to a table looking puzzled, and goes back to hand-carving a piece of wood at his usual secluded booth.

Comments

[cook_the_rude]

"Good evening, Javert!"

That is Hannibal Lecter, walking by Javert's booth with a glass of red wine in his hand.

[never_shall_yield]

He rolls his eyes up to identify the shape at the edge of his vision, then back down again.

'Doctor Lecter.'

[cook_the_rude]

"I have heard good things about you lately."

Dr. Lecter takes a sip of his wine, and sighs contentedly.

[never_shall_yield]

His eyebrows raise involuntarily. When has anyone said that to him?

'Oh?'

[cook_the_rude]

"You saved Valjean."

[never_shall_yield]

'Is that the rumour?'

He snorts quietly, without looking up.

'I saved no one.'

[cook_the_rude]

"Then who saved him?"

[never_shall_yield]

'His daughter.'

No one else could do it.

[cook_the_rude]

"How did she hear he was doing badly?"

[never_shall_yield]

'I told her. But that is immaterial. My knowing of his condition would do nothing to change it without her.'

He will not have Lecter standing there smug, enjoying this for his own amusement.

[cook_the_rude]

"But you did go out of your way to tell her," Lecter points out, nether smug nor especially joyful.

[never_shall_yield]

He has met Lecter before.

'Your point? I have no desire to talk of this, or take credit for anything, or have it mentioned again. Valjean will recover; leave it be.'

He realises the chances of this are not strong. Because, again, he has met Lecter before.

[cook_the_rude]

"That is all that counts, is it?"

[is_the_motion]

"Means you get to wear leather." Bonnie says, coming up behind him.

[never_shall_yield]

He blinks, without turning around.

'Why would I need to wear leather?'

Biker?

[is_the_motion]

"Because this is a biker weddin'." Bonnie says, slipping into the opposite seat.

[never_shall_yield]

'And what,' he says, with careful politeness, 'is a biker?'

[is_the_motion]

"A woman or man who rides a motorcycle." Bonnie says, with polite patience.

[never_shall_yield]

'A motorcycle.'

It rings a bell. He searches his memory, and comes up with an image from California.

'The car on two wheels.'

A long pause.

'I do not understand.'

[is_the_motion]

"You're invited to a party." Bonnie says. "The dress code is leather, but you can come as you are if you'd prefer."

[never_shall_yield]

'I see.'


Wait.


'Why have you invited me to a party? We are hardly friends.'

He assumes that should be a thing. He has literally never been invited to a party before.

[is_the_motion]

"Because you're always so serious and I thought you might enjoy it?" Bonnie suggests.

[never_shall_yield]

'Oh.'

Well. That is difficult to respond to.

'What sort of party will it be, beyond everyone being dressed in leather?'

Aristocrats have balls, and society people have soirees, and...he is not sure about anything else. Drunken wine shop fracas? He has been to some of those, in the capacity of dragging someone out by their collar.

[is_the_motion]

"A hen party, a party before a woman gets married." Bonnie says. "With alcohol, well, not fer me and I don't think nobody else will go over the top; and dancin', but no strippers."

[never_shall_yield]

Strippers. No strippers. He remains a touch confused, but it is not hard to guess what they are. Alcohol, dancing...so definitely more on the bawdy end of the scale.

'Congratulations on your upcoming nuptials,' he says, in an entirely distracted tone.

'Who else is coming?'