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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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"...Nyaff." William looks at him a bit blankly. Usually it's Jim with the incomprehensible vocabulary. "You know, a nyaff. Like...someone who..." He gestures vaguely with the apple. "A jumped-up wee man who's full of talk, maybe he's always in your ear with some opinion you never asked for. Like, say, Don't drink all the alcohol or use all the...whatever that was."

He cocks his head to the side. "I was joking, man."

'Yes, dear. I know.'

Did he really just call him wee twice?

'God, do you have no notion of what lube is yet?' He winces theatrically. 'That's got to be awkward. Never mind, though. Hello, William.'

He calls his best friend a wee king all the time, he'd be astonished to learn that Jim had any objection to the word.

"Right, lube, that." Whatever it is. "Hello, Jim. How've you been?"

He doesn't really. He's just being a twat, because he can.

'I'm all right.'

This is both a lie, and not. Eh. He's all right today, which is good enough.

'What've you been up to? Behaving yourself?'

"No more than usual." Has he been behaving himself? Honestly it feels as though he has, which is vaguely annoying now that he thinks about it. "Just kicking about Douglas lands."

'Christ. How depressing.'

That sounds awful.

'What room are you in? My younger self was around again recently. I'll send him your way next time he's in. I can give the two of you something far better than coke to enjoy yourselves with.'

Not that he'd let his younger self try it, and not that he thinks William will say yes anyway - another one determined to grow up to be normal - but his reaction might be interesting.

He'd like to argue about it being depressing but he really can't. Dammit. So he just scowls--and scowls a little more at the request for his room info. Like hell is he telling Jim where he stays here, not when it's Jamie's room too. But--

"Aye? What's that then?"

Therrrre's the scowl. Right on cue. Jim chuckles, and shakes his head.

'If I tell you, you won't try it. But it's a better drug than anything chemical.'

V is truly life-ruining, it's so good. Which is why Jim is not letting himself anywhere near the stuff - plus, even a drop of vampire blood sounds gross - but William would probably have a great time on it.

It's a very predictable scowl, isn't it.

But--maybe just as predictably--it quirks up into a reluctant grin and then a laugh. "Aye right, sure, I'll just be taking the If-I-tell-you-you-won't-try-it stuff from you, that sounds like a fine fucking idea. And then I'll just borrow a hand gun from you and try shooting myself for fun, shall I? But what's young Jim up to, anyway?"

'You don't trust me to know how to have a good time? I'm hurt William, truly.'

Or not. He waves a vague hand.

'Young Jim is being young Jim. Enjoying himself.'

He has about five months before his life is ruined forever. Lucky lucky him.

'You should take a leaf out of his book.'

"Oh, I trust you to know how to have a good time yourself." He looks down at the apple core in his hand and tosses it in the general direction of the fireplace. The rats will no doubt love this. "And right, maybe I should take a leaf from his book, but there's no much satisfaction really in just getting yourself a headache for the next morning, is there."

He has about five months or so before his life is ruined forever. But he doesn't know it yet and he's still looking for something bigger than getting high in the woods.

'There's not much satisfaction in anything, darling.'

And William's never going to have it anyway, but there's no reason to point that out just now.

'So you might as well have fun while you can. Anyway, you don't know it'll give you a headache.'

There's a pause, and then a grin.

'But do mention satisfaction to him, I'm sure he'll have an idea or two.'

William snorts. "Oh, then I'll really have a headache on my hands, won't I. Jim and his satisfaction." Yeah, he's not really someone who worries about mixed metaphors.

"It's all well and good to say there's no satisfaction in anything, but still, there's some things better than others, aye? Winning a battle, say: no matter what comes after that, you'll look back and say I did that, it really was me, and everyone knows it too. Being the man that..." That what? "That no one can frighten and no one can tell what to do. That's satisfaction."

'You'll have something on your hands.'

He tilts his head and listens to this, all this nonsense falling from the kid's mouth, and is made to wonder if he was ever this idealistic. Ever this naive.

And no. No, he wasn't.

'That does sound like a lovely dream. But you can take it from someone who no one can frighten and no one can tell what to do - it's not satisfaction.'

Beat.

'Which doesn't mean you shouldn't do all those things, of course. They're better than doing nothing. But don't fool yourself, if you can help it.'

Maybe they'll be enough for William. Maybe he's not smart enough to see the proof literally talking to him right now, though; Jim is all those things, and he put a gun in his mouth. It's never enough.

"It's the closest thing I can see to satisfaction around me at home," he says frankly. "And if I get it, I don't imagine I'll outlive it much at all, so--why not try for it?"

'As I said, of course you should go and fight things. That's your only option, isn't it?'

Apart from, oh he doesn't know, the entire multiverse at his fingertips though this place. People do get so attached to people and places though, don't they?

'Find yourself a worthy opponent. It's the only thing worth having.'

Look at him, being all helpful! He is Very Proud of himself.

He's being condescended to. Old people, it's all they ever do anyway. William shrugs. "Got just about the whole fucking country to fight, and then the rest of them, don't I? I'll find something. What about you?" Is Jim still content being clever with that clever friend of his?

Of course he is. Jim is never not condescending, even if he doesn't sound it. But he is also telling the truth, in this instance.

He shrugs at the question though, and lets the rest drop. William will find out for himself.

'What about me?'

"You've got all sorts of worldly wisdom and advice for me, so--how's it all working out for you?"

He spreads his hands, his grin wide.

'Happy and handsome, as ever.'

Translation: life is good when it shouldn't be, so he's about to screw it up because that's what he does.

'And I don't give people advice, darling. You do whatever you like. I'll just be here to laugh at the fallout, whatever it is.'

"Sounded like advice to me. But aye, alright. You laugh." William is laughing himself, cheerful again, and aims a light punch at Jim's arm that doesn't quite reach and isn't meant to. This isn't young Jim after all. "All your pudding over there, your ice, whatever, it's melting. Just so you know."

He glances at the food. Eh. There's always more food.

'Why don't you go and grab us one of the bottles of whiskey?'

"Don't mind if I do." He lopes off and comes back in a bit, with the whiskey and a bag of some kind of cheesy popcorn. Nutritional balance.

'Did I order that?'

Sherlock must have put it on the list. Whatevs. Jim pours two far-too generous measures, and slides one over to the kid.

'So how's your friend?'

"Fine," he answers shortly. "He's just fine. I'd no be here if he weren't, would I." An amused glance. "I'm touched by your concern for him."

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just_cant_lose - 2017-02-23 17:15 (UTC) - Expand

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