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[just_cant_lose]

One door closes...as one version of Jim Moriarty takes a last look around the bar, shrugs, and walks out to deal with stuff.

...and another one opens.

The original version looks full-on relieved to be back, and heads straight to Bar to get some actual edible food. It's even more important than getting rid of the prison smell that he's sure is withering the threads of his clothes by osmosis. (They're normal clothes, not prison ones: benefits of not being found guilty of anything yet).

The second thing he does after being presented with a roast chicken dinner and vodka and lime - shut up, those things totally go together - is get his T-Minus out, and send Sherlock a message in case he's in the bar. He leaves himself logged on for the hell of it, then tells Bar to provide X with dinner and a drink when she next needs a refuel, checks that YT didn't decimate his tab with her free dinner, and sits down to eat.

He'll be back down in the main room later, showered and sitting at the piano with Sherlock's Stradivarius on the stool next to him (he plays a few notes every now and again, but no proper tune), and his computer open on the top with lines of code running across the screen. That little bastard tried to get into it after being told not to. He's going to have to have a serious word with himself. But it can wait. He needs to unwind first.

aPosteriori is signed on

Comments

[hadyougoing]

Okay, this time she's pretty sure it's everybody's favorite arsonist, and not some similar-looking dude who likes toast.

(I am right, I swear I'm right--)

Everybody's favorite arsonist-slash-criminal-mastermind, apparently. She takes in the piano and violin as she crosses the room. No props for her tonight--not even a mug of cocoa.

"I wouldn't've guessed you were so musical."

[just_cant_lose]

He quirks an eyebrow, one hand on the piano keys and the other plucking a string of the violin. Ahhh, Ava. He's always been English with Ava, but he does remember his younger self speaking to her in his own voice.

Still, why mess with a winning formula? He sticks with the London for now.

'Why would you?'

It's never come up.

'Not that I am. I haven't played properly in years.'

[hadyougoing]

She takes a seat at a nearby table. Nothing about her demeanor--voice, posture, pace--suggests anything more than a lightly friendly interest.

"Getting back into it?"

[just_cant_lose]

'Mmm. Kind of. I just bought a piano at home.'

His smile is self-deprecating. There's nothing to suggest more than a light, friendly response.

'The violin's not mine. I'm practically useless at it.'

He doubts she'll recognise what it is, or know what it's worth. Even if she might, he wouldn't hide it.

[hadyougoing]

Nope. Knowledge of musical instruments isn't something that's been useful to her thus far--at least not stacked up against outdoor survival skills and the occult.

"Whose is it?"

[just_cant_lose]

The smile turns ever so slightly amused. Not for her benefit. It's just that the reality of the situation is funny.

'Boyfriend.'

In a good way.

[hadyougoing]

Like a boy who's a friend?

--Oh.

Well, the dating part doesn't surprise her. Ava held down a steady relationship with a nice boy while interning in hell, and as fondly as she feels about Riley, she's not sure he ever would've caught on. But she's getting a weird itchy feeling like when she tried to talk to Coyote about gender.

The fact that Coyote's mouth has gone all lesbians on her mouth is unrelated.

"Nice of you to keep an eye on it for him."

[just_cant_lose]

'I'm not, I'm playing it.'

Ish.

'Leaving it lying around doesn't serve any purpose, and he won't mind.'

He presses a few more keys, then stops and turns to her properly. He wants to know what happened to her demon book and what all that was about, but it'd mean explanations about his accent, probably. Unless she hasn't realised that two people with much the same face is...the same person.

(Hey, it's possible. She's odd, and she's told lies. He can't be the only person not really covering stuff up around here.)

'So, what're you up to? Busy day?'

[hadyougoing]

Her, odd? No way! Look at this very normal tank-and-jeans ensemble. She brushed her hair today, too.

"I have a shift later," she says with a shrug. "So I might hit the beach today before it starts." The novelty of Milliways' outdoors areas has returned somewhat, after such a long time away.

[feminine_menace]

YT did make a significant dent in Moriarty's tab, a dent about the size of Lobster Thermidor and a bottle of Dom Perignon. But only because he totally deserved it.

Oh, and look, she's just coming out of the elevator from the garage. She's got a physics textbook under her arm. Looks like she was studying down there.

[just_cant_lose]

Jim flicks a wedge of lime at her.

Hi, YT.

[feminine_menace]

YT has pretty good reflexes (you won't last long as a Kourier without them), so she barely manages to deflect the lime wedge with her textbook. She scowls at Moriarty. "I guess you saw the bill for dinner."

She doesn't sound ashamed, because she isn't (and YT has no shame anyway).

[just_cant_lose]

That's all right. Jim isn't angry.

'I think you need to learn how to abuse a rich man's tab, darling. How else will you make it in the world?'

He's kidding.

YT is not the sort of girl rich men like to look after, probably. Not with that attitude.

[feminine_menace]

"Bite me," YT says. Cheerfully, because she's savvy enough to realize that Moriarty is kidding. "So, I see you're not stylin' and profilin' in a prison jumpsuit. That mean they haven't caught you yet?"

In American prisons they don't let you keep your civvies even if you haven't been convicted yet. YT isn't aware that there's any other way of doing things.

[just_cant_lose]

'Darling, if I didn't want them to catch me, they wouldn't have.'

Mmm, roast chicken. Perfection.

'And, no thanks. But I appreciate the offer.'

If she wants biting, she should have given his younger self a whirl.

[feminine_menace]

"Gag me with a shoe," YT says. (Stuff like this is why YT did not give his younger self a whirl.)

"So what's so much fun about prison that you were all hot to go there?"

YT thinks he's probably just saying 'I meant to get caught,' and that it wasn't actually in the plan all along. But Moriarty's an archvillain kinda guy, and don't they do stuff like get caught on purpose for complicated reasons?

[just_cant_lose]

They do indeed!

(And she made the right decision, really. She would literally never hear the end of it, had she said yes. And probably blackmailed with a tape, or similar.)

'Ohhh, there's nothing hot about prison, my dear. Except the actual heating.'

Really, it's disgusting.

'But I have a good lawyer. I trust he'll get me off.'

[onceaviking]

Some time even later a vampire walks through the door, trailing the very, very loud sounds of an industrial Sisters of Mercy remix after him.

He might be in the process of zipping up his jeans.

[just_cant_lose]

'Jesus. The music doesn't get any better.'

He sounds amused. Looks amused.

Unless he just came from the bathroom, in which case, ew.

[onceaviking]

Well, technically he was just in the bathroom but being a vampire - and so on and so forth.

"Imagine the experience with superior hearing," Eric says. Dryly.
Then he wipes his mouth with the back of his fingers.

[just_cant_lose]

'It's your club. Get Pam to manage it. I'm sure she loves Sisters of Mercy.'

He looks him up and down with vague good humour, his fingers picking over the violin's strings.

'Showing your fairy a good time, or one of your randoms?'

[onceaviking]

"Oh yes. As much as she loves the kind of people who enjoys it," Eric replies. "And it was one of the dancers."

He smirks.

"That and an excellent health care plan really sets us apart."

He runs his fingers through his hair. Then he nods at the two instruments.
"Hard time choosing?"

[just_cant_lose]

He's going to leave a note for his younger self to stay away from Eric, he decides. Otherwise...he won't.

'I suppose the irony of your employee benefits isn't lost on you.'

He presses a few keys, just idling some blues out.

'Just giving my hands something to do, to be honest. Thinking about scoring some piano music to strings.'

[onceaviking]

"That everything w do for them, we really do for us? That's not irony. That's capitalism."

He leans against the piano,
"I don't really care for violins. I rather prefer cellos."

[just_cant_lose]

'This isn't just a violin. It's a Stradivarius.'

His fingers have spread over it, almost protective. It's worth a lot of money. It's also...not his. And it's just occurred to him why he asked Bar to lend it to him, and doesn't like what it says.

'Why cello? I mean, I'm all for hard wood between the legs, but they're not exactly portable. And limited in range.'