milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Jim has been rather enjoying spending weeks being moody and depressed in his suite, mainly because Sherlock's up there to make sure he's not actually all that moody and depressed. Bloody boyfriends, and their way of making life better. Jim would grump about that if he weren't pleased by it.

He's only in the bar now because his favourite distraction is asleep and anyway, they need food. Jim puts in a large order and, on a whim, asks for a current newspaper from their world. Bar provides an iPad with various headlines, and he scrolls through until he hits upon the news that NASA has discovered a solar system where life might have evolved.

He forgets about the food, and pretty much everything else for a while. Eventually he wanders over to the Window, still reading, and then just sits looking out at the explosions.

(The ice cream he bought will be melting all over the Bar at some point, so if anyone wants free food he's probably not going to object, or even notice.)

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'Yes.'

She did. He has not yet tried to articulate what he thinks about it, but then, he doesn't have to. So it's fine.

He turns his head to look her up and down.

'Are you in from the swamp?'

"Not yet."

Procrastinating may not be her strong suit, but she'll do it in this case.

"I've been busy."

'Naturally you have.'

How very...predictable. Whatever. He shrugs, and goes back to looking out of the Window.

'Want a drink?'

She eyes the window as well.

"No, I have a dinner later."

'With Ted?'

That was his name, wasn't it? Something like that. Dan? Something with three letters.

'Or just some business thing you have to be on your best behaviour for?'

"With Ted."

She smiles a little.

...bleurgh.

'And you have to be on your best behaviour with him? Or just wanting to put your best foot forward?'

She shrugs.

"A bit of both. I haven't decided if he's completely worth the effort."

'You just smiled when you said his name, darling.'

Says it all, really.

"I certainly like him and he's good for my ego, but I'm not sure he's ready for Real Tess."

Not that he's a saint himself, but still.

'There's no such thing.'

Obviously.

'But it never hurts to have someone to tell you you're marvellous, I suppose.'

Other people might issues over whether they deserve that, et cetera, but that's not a problem for Jim. Ego-stroking is important!

"No such thing as what?"

Ego-stroking is a nice bonus.

'A real you. Or anyone. Everything's real, even if you want to believe it's fake.'

Does this really need explaining? Jim draws his knees up to his chest and curls sideways in his armchair, head on the arm so he can stare into space more comfortably.

"Ah. Well, yes."

She'd argue, a little, but there doesn't seem any point to it.

"Dare I ask how your Valentine's was?"

Jim's eyes close, and a smile that transcends beatific starts spreading over his face.

'It was good.'

Good? Jesus. There aren't words.

'Spent it in bed. And I cooked breakfast, for the first time in about ten years.'

Yep, that's what she figured.

"I'm glad."

And she really is, for what it's worth.

Jim is the worrying place of also being glad, knowing he shouldn't be, and finding himself too...glad, to care.

'Oh, it won't last. I'll just enjoy it while it's going on.'

He turns the iPad to face her, so she can see the story on new planets.

'This happened back where I come from.'

She scans the article.

"Go NASA. Here I was beginning to think they were useless. I should ask Kal if there actually is life on any of them. Not ones I've heard of."

'Don't you fucking dare.'

Or at least, don't tell him about it if she does.

"I can keep a secret."

It's sort of what she does.

'But if I know you know, I'll bug you until you tell me.'

He knows this about himself.

"So you want me to ignore my own curiosity because you can't control yourself?"

Whatever, Jim.

"I won't tell you I know. In fact, I won't bring it up again."

'I can't control myself?'

Him. Him, of all people. Wow. He stares at her for a moment, and then shakes it off. Whatevvvvvvver, Tess. He can't find it in him to care. He hugs his knees a bit tighter, and shuts his eyes.

'You're different recently. You were nicer before I was dead.'

"Was I?"

She hadn't noticed.

"You're one to talk."

'What do you mean?'

His being different is obvious, so he imagines she can't mean that.