milliways_bar | (no subject)

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As one door closes, another one opens. A young Jim Moriarty stands at the threshold with half a computer under one arm, and a large fistful of cash in the other. He's dressed in school uniform, tie at half-mast, with a fag hanging out of his mouth.

Well.

He'd given up on ever finding this place again. Good timing, though. He's come from a stupid interview, he's bloody starving, and being sixteen still sucks ass.

Meh.

[OOC: Open until whenever, just taking advantage of his older self being out of the bar. Please no one tell him the grown up is dead!]

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Well, well, well.

"Fancy meeting you here again."

Well, well, well. His day just got better, and there's the megawatt smile to prove it.

'Hello.'

Just fancy meeting Tess again.

'How's life?'

"Life is fine."

Which is true enough.

"You look like you could use a break."

'I could use a break.'

He is, in fact, already pulling his tie off, because who wants to look like a schoolboy in front of someone like Tess?

'Are you offering to make it interesting?'

"I'm offering to keep you company."

Whether that counts as interesting or not is his call.

"Are you in from school?"

Well, it's a start. Jim stuffs his tie in his pocket, ashes his cigarette and shakes his head.

'No, I finished school already. The university wanted me to come up to the department, and it's advisable-' ugh, why, '-to show the student colours when talking to them.'

Bunch of idiots.

'Get you a drink?'

"Why did they want to talk to you?"

Simple curiosity.

"Sure. Scotch on the rocks."

He peels a twenty off the wad he dropped on the bar, and hands it to her. Ys yes, very embarrassing, but he still can't get served here.

'Because I haven't picked which department I'm going to commit to, and they're all trying to get me.'

He says this with the easy confidence of someone who knows they all want him a lot more than he wants them.

'So they say they interviewing me, when it's really the other way 'round. But I still have to look the part.'

Which does not mean he has to wear a suit. He could easily afford a good suit. But that wouldn't give the impression he wants to convey, so school uniform it is.

Tess takes the bill and orders her drink from the Bar proper.

"Of course they all want you. You're brilliant."

There's no point in denying this.

"Which department are you leaning toward?"

'I know.'

He knows. But he does like it when other people notice too - he spends so much time hiding it - so there's a genuine grin at her words.

'Astrophysics. I told them right from the off that's what I wanted, but the others keep offering me money. I'm waiting for the highest bid, so I can take it to astro and make them top it.'

Because why wouldn't make yourself into a bidding war? If you've got it, fucking use it.

'I'll take a beer, if you'll get it. Thanks.'

"Smart boy. That's the way to play it."

Well, she didn't do the same thing, but she was a much different teenager.

"Beer it is."

He looks at her, a darkly amused smile on his lips. Smart boy? Really?

He stubs his cigarette out and leans an elbow on the bar, just a little bit inside her personal space.

'And what do I get for being so smart, Tess? Good boys deserve treats, don't they?'

Edited 2017-01-18 23:58 (UTC)

Yes, really. It's entirely accurate.

She smiles at him, not minding the slight intrusion.

"You get a beer. Maybe two."

'And that's it? C'mon.'

Really? Nah. His smile widens.

'I've had a hard morning in a dusty room, making old men look stupid and still having them love me at the end of it. That's got to be worth more than a beer or two.'

She leans in a little herself.

"What else would you like?"

So he leans in a little more, pushing his luck. But looking very charming as he does.

'Kiss might help. To start with.'

Ah, yes. That Moriarty charm.

She closes the distance and presses her lips to his briefly.

"And you still get a beer."

'Lucky as well as smart.'

His grin widens and he leans back, though is still pretty firmly camped on the perimeter of her space. Easily within touching distance, if she should so choose.

'I might even buy you lunch, as you're being generous.'

"Then wouldn't I be the lucky one."

She takes her scotch and swirls it around before sipping it.

'Yes, you would. Or maybe we both are and should celebrate the fact, who knows?'

He is all for mutual celebration! In a variety of ways. The way he licks his lower lip, and looks her up and down should prove this, if she needed reminding of what he's like.

She slides his beer over to him.

"We could toast to our mutual fortune."

'Why not?'

He lifts his glass, leaning on his elbow and keeping eye contact. He's all for lunch - he's hungry - but he's sure as hell hoping she'll be dessert. And not being at all subtle about it.

Indeed, she can tell. He'll just have to see how that goes.

She picks up her own glass to clink against his.

"To good luck."

'To making your own luck.'

Something that suits him far better, and he has an idea she's the same. He takes a long drink and then sets his pint down, licking foam off his top lip.

'What've you been up to, then? Fun stuff?'

He clearly needs to show an interest in order to get what he wants, so fine. At least she's nice to look at in the meantime.

"Better."

She shrugs, taking another sip before setting her glass back down.

"Year end reports are tedious, but they've got to be done. I may have met someone. If that counts as fun."