milliways_bar | (no subject)

Jim has ventured down only rarely since his birthday, and only then because there's a party on. He is liking Bar's decision to paint his face for the duration! It's fun!

And then he comes to the bar for lunch. His gentle internal wondering of why Sherlock wasn't in bed when he woke up this morning is answered when he's presented with a note.

Jim goes very still. He remains very still for a long time, the paper crumpling evvvvvvvver so slowly in his fingers, creases cracking like ice dropped into water. He's glad of the face paint for a whole different reason, because oh, he's proud of Sherlock, he's proud of him for this, but he's going to fucking kill him as well, and do it properly this time. The game plays on. Yes. Yes, it does, and thank God, because at least this proves they really will never be ordinary.

So he laughs. Loudly, and with a manic edge he doesn't even try to hide. Well done, Sherlock. You even left the note in the bar, rather than somewhere private. Well, then it deserves a public reaction. Jim shuts up and shakes his head, almost fond. He straightens his pristine jacket, and smooths his hair back.

Then he turns and picks up the nearest chair, swings it over his head and smashes it to pieces on the floor. He smashes it until he's left with nothing but a leg, which spins out from his hand across the room, whipping through the air.

Sorry if it bounces off you?

[OOC: Birthday link is lots of NSFW, natch. And it's probably obvious, but Jim's a tad erratic in this EP and may be prone to outbursts.)

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He can't be bothered to voice the flip comment that wanders across his mind. He just tests his head in his hand, and under the table, tries to unclench his fingers from around the crushed note. He'll burn it later. Or perhaps frame it. It's probably earned the right to be preserved as part of the relationship, as real and calculated as the photos he takes of Sherlock.

'I won't be held to a debt.'

She can't change her mind if she wants something down the road.

She sips her drink and sighs.

"Jim, it's free and clear. There's no debt, there's no nothing."

Gifts don't come with anything attached.

"I just felt like doing it."

He watches her for a long few minutes. People being nice doesn't sit well with him. He doesn't believe in gratitude; it's only the expectation of further favours. But it can't be pity, because she had it made before today. Or, not pity for this anyway. If she even feels that about anything, which he doubts.

Whatever.

'Fine.'

Another pause.

'Do you have any devices that'll effectively trap sunlight?'

He can analyze her motives all he wants. There's nothing there than the idea that he might like it.

"For what purpose? Redirection?"

'Yes. And no.'

Or maybe not, but he's not going to tell.

'To release it in a dark place.'

"Sunlight isn't tangible. You can't trap it to release somewhere else."

This is something she's looked into herself.

"What you're looking for is the Light of Eärendil, but that's starlight."

And she's also entirely joking because Lord of the Rings, lol.

What is even the point of coming from a world with alien technology if you can't even trap an intangible thing? He ignores the fictional reference because he's not in the mood, and also because starlight is not what he's after.

'Oh well. Redirection it is. But mirrors can do that, and I don't need your help with it.'

He shifts on his seat again, and straightens up. He's been watching the wall where the door should be (is?) without even meaning to, and suddenly the prospect of waiting around with no knowledge of home seems an impossible torture.

He orders whiskey from a passing rat. Why not?

If sunlight was trappable, Kryptonians would have figured it out. They visited Earth often enough.

Besides, Tess is on to him.

"You need sunlight to be released in a dark room. Trying to kill Eric, are we?"

He wasn't being subtle.

'Kill him? He's not worth my effort to kill. And I'm pretty sure there'd be easier ways to do it.'

He needs to investigate the old myth of staking one through the heart, but even if that doesn't turn out to be true, he's pretty sure nothing can survive having their head cut off.

'If I were trying to kill him, I'd hardly bring you into it, would I? Not now you're fucking him.'

"I admit I'd be prone to keep him around."

That and she thinks Jim's reaction to the point of contention is a little overboard.

"But I won't lie about what I have access to just because of it. Kryptonians need sunlight for their powers on Earth. If there was a way to make it portable they'd have one and they don't."

'You continue to disappoint.'

About Eric. Not the Kryptonians. They're not her fault.

And Jim's reaction to the point of contention is partly because his younger self started this, and he has little choice but to carry it on. And also because it's fun to stir things up, even pointlessly.

'Though it's interesting that you're not at the point of lying to me for him.'

"I will, from time to time."

That's just the way it is.

Tess thinks he needs to put his younger self to rest and move on.

"Why would I be? If it comes to it I'm sure I can find someone else to have sex with."

Jim doesn't really let things go. He remembers everything too well.

'Why would you be?'

He laughs shortly.

'Eric would tell you he's worth more than I am, even if that's laughable to anyone with half a brain.'

Though it's good to know she's not going to kick up a fuss if she loses her fuckbuddy.

"Eric and I don't exactly talk that much."

Least of all about Jim.

'But despite having found the one point of his existence and using it to your satisfaction, you don't care if I wipe him out?'

Good good. Jim doesn't give what they talk about, if anything at all, but finding out she actually values Eric as a person - gross.

"No, you won't be breaking my heart."

Tess never lets that get involved regardless.

He'd do it regardless of her heart, but at least it looked like he asked first now.

He shrugs - fine - and takes his whiskey off the rat that turns up. Talking about Eric is not improving his mood.

Oh, she knows.

"Shall I leave you with your thoughts?"

'If you're not going to make them better, you might as well.'

No one ever said he wasn't an insufferable brat when he's in a mood. Sorry, Tess.

At least he's not throwing chairs around anymore.

And yeah, she's pretty much done all she can here. Cheering people up is not her forté.

"I'll see you around, then."

She picks up her glass and heads off.

'Thanks for the pin,' he murmurs as she stands, then waves her away with a dismissive hand.

Being cheered up is not his forté. But as is the way of him, next time he appears it'll probably be like nothing ever happened.

He really does like his new jewellery, though. He might break into the Louvre for her one day, after all.

For now; whiskey.