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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He chuckles, but does move his chin, instead settling for watching Jim from another vantage point; not that he moves very far, but it's not directly touching the man. "No one said I just waited," he says.

"If that was supposed to be a slap, you may need to try more force."

'If I did that, you'd only like it. And then ask for more.'

Jim doesn't otherwise move, his body posture remaining open under scrutiny, nothing to hide but not showing off either. Which doesn't change the fact there's quite obviously a lot going on in his head; his eyes are sharp and restless, and there's a certain air of quietly-repressed energy to him.

'You implied you waited, with sort themselves out. But I've no doubt you're capable of finding a solution to most petty details, if you bother yourself.'

"The better question is whether you'd comply," Ganymede remarks with a tiny smile, chuckling at the reply.

"Forgive the implication. I just don't like to take credit for ending my problems when they happen to be people." He doesn't touch Jim, but in his curiosity he leans close enough that he knows the man will feel his presence getting nearer. "What's going on in that interesting head of yours?"

Jim lets him lean, a tiny smile curling one edge of his lips.

'I rarely comply in the ways expected,' he murmurs, and watches the approach with a hint of curiosity. Ganymede's admittance is interesting, because in company such as this, why would he need to be coy about murder? Either he doesn't like thinking of himself doing it, or he doesn't think Jim is as comfortable with it as he is.

'The pertinent thing is - - why do you want to know? And what would you do if I told you?'

"In order," he says lightly, "I'm curious. And it's impossible to know."

He shrugs. "Why wouldn't you tell me?"

'Impossible to know, perhaps, but you could speculate.'

He tilts his head slightly, not smiling but not unfriendly.

'Because I doubt you'd understand, and I don't like explaining. The bits you might understand...are generally the sort of things you have to earn the right to know.'

'...but there are the more mundane things, of course.' His eyes travel up and down Ganymede, assessing him. 'You're interesting, in a way. I'm wondering how much of a good time we'd have together, how far you'd let me go, and how you'd react if I went further than you're comfortable with. That sort of thing.'

"Why do you doubt?" he asks.

And laughs a little. "I think if you truly managed to exceed what I'm comfortable with you'd be a very impressive lover indeed," Ganymede says.

'I'm never not impressive, darling.'

And with someone who can't die? Well. He has scientific interest, at least. The other thing, though; Jim sighs, and makes a dismissive gesture with his hand.

'Because no one ever does. And unless you're hiding a stunning mathematical ability under that pretty face, I doubt you'll be any different.'

"Well, you are just a man," Ganymede says, though to his credit it isn't dismissive; it's just plain fact.

But he smiles a little at the doubting statement. "I hide many things under this pretty face, Jim. You'll never know all of them."

'You're assuming I'm interested in finding out?'

He half-shrugs.

'You're very old, so logically you know things I never will. The way I see it, that just makes me more impressive.'

But that has little to do with sex, which is what he was talking about at first.

'And there'd be little point hiding it if you had a way with numbers, though I expect you hide everything as a matter of course.'

"Oh, you're only impressive if you can tell me what those things are," Ganymede says.

Jim rolls his head on his neck, a silent oh please.

'I'm not a performing monkey, sweetheart. And I was referring to rate of learning, in any case. If I can match what you know of astrophysics and maths - my thirty-five years against your thousands - who's the real winner?'

He doesn't sound confrontational, or arrogant, or as if he cares about winning. Vaguely amused, if anything.

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