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[cottoncandypink]

It's in a predictably bad mood that Wilford comes into the bar today. He shows no sign of having been blown up by a maniac outside, aside from the fact that he may be plotting said maniac's death. But he doesn't want to find Jim right now. That might end with one of them burning the entire place to the ground, and even Wilford can understand that such an outcome would be undesirable.

So instead, he sits down in front of the fire, propping his feet up on the coffee table, and quietly thinks about all the ways in which he can make Jim wish he hadn't done what he did.

Comments

[just_cant_lose]

It's just not your week, is it, Wilford?

In Jim's defence, he's brought you a beer. He sets it down on the coffee table next to Wilford's feet, then drops into an armchair opposite. He's fully suited today; a man of business.

Less in his defence, perhaps, is the only-vaguely-understated expression of satisfaction on his face. It says, quite clearly, I win.

[cottoncandypink]

The only reason Wilford doesn't kick over the beer is because he doesn't want to be covered in it. But he still doesn't immediately grab it.

The only reason he doesn't immediately launch himself over the table at Jim probably has something to do with the scabbed-up state of his knuckles. It was probably bad news for the last person who got on his nerves, and got to experience all that rage that was being saved up for Jim.

"I can't help but notice that I still don't have my dog."

[just_cant_lose]

'I'm wearing black, darling. Do you think I'd risk the hair?'

Please.

Jim sips his cup of tea, then settles it on the arm of his chair. His face has mostly faded to yellow and green, with a couple of stalwart patches of light purple. The faceless stranger is welcome to the earlier, uglier state.

'Sherlock's looking after him today. I'll bring him back to his life of bar vagrancy soon enough, I'm sure.'

[cottoncandypink]

It figures Jim can't even properly steal a dog. If you're going to steal something to piss someone off, you might as well keep that something around.

"Then why don't you take a couple of these and get lost," Wilford says, flipping Jim off with both hands.

He pulls out a cigarette, but doesn't light it. It's more something to distract him from the asshat sitting across from him.

[just_cant_lose]

Jim has no interest keeping anything. See: the Crown Jewels.

Though they'd be less high maintenance than Bonehead, even with the constant need to hide them from the police.

'Mature, as ever.'

[cottoncandypink]

Jim has no idea about just how high maintenance that dog is, or he'd already be begging Wilford to take it back.

"Says the guy who steals dogs."

[just_cant_lose]

'Means to an end, sweetie.'

This was never about the dog, after all.

'You should have seen yourself go. I haven't laughed that hard in years.'

[cottoncandypink]

"I'm happy for you," Wilford says, obviously nothing of the sort.

He twirls his cigarette around in his fingers for a few seconds before tucking it behind his ear.

"Mind cluing me in on what it was all about?"

He has a feeling he knows. He just wants to hear Jim say it.

[just_cant_lose]

Jim shrugs.

'You're an idiot.'

'nuff said.

[idontcount]

Molly comes through the door wet and cold. She's carrying her backpack and dressed for London being seasonal in April. Her umbrella has paw-prints on it and she's wearing an actual bobble-hat with no sign of irony.

"What."

Confusion followed by relief. Oh thank god. She really was starting to think she'd dreamed the whole thing.

[cottoncandypink]

He hadn't dreamed it. Nor had she dreamed up the man with the pink moustache. Though, he's not quite the same as the last time she saw him. He's a lot younger - more than a decade - than he was last time, and weighs about 90 pounds soaking wet.

He also looks like he's in a very bad mood, and judging by the state of his knuckles, has been doing a lot of punching lately.

[idontcount]

Molly smiles at him uncertainly and shakes the drops off her umbrella before stowing it in the coat-rack.

"Hello. I think I've met your... Brother?"

[cottoncandypink]

Oh, Jesus Christ, please no.

"Oh god, don't tell me Walter found his way here too."

That's all he needs, for that weirdo to come in here and mess everything up.

[idontcount]

"...Who? No, I met Wilford."

Oh god, there are three of them? Molly takes off her bobble-hat and orders a large glass of red wine.

[cottoncandypink]

"You're looking at him," Wilford says.

Luckily, there are only two. (For now; the retcon is strong with this one.)

He tries to think back to meeting this woman. Usually he has a pretty good memory for these things, even if he pretends otherwise, but he's coming up very fuzzy here.

How drunk was he when these two crossed paths?

There's an M in there somewhere, maybe?

"Missy, was it?"

No, that doesn't seem right at all.

[idontcount]

"Molly." Rude.

"You're looking... Different. Did you... Get a haircut?" She also takes off her coat, hanging it on the back of her chair. It's a purple coat and has fur round the hood.

[cottoncandypink]

In Wilford's defence, he was not exactly lucid the last time they met. It's amazing he got as close as he did.

"Huh?"

He runs his hand through his hair, which is finally starting to grow back after he shaved off his mohawk. But the mohawk shouldn't have been that big of a change.

Oh.

"No, it's nothing. Don't worry about it," he says, not wanting to explain saves and resets and everything like that right now.

[ostro_goth]

Teja is nearby, with a small kitten. It's black, and has a white crescent on its chest.

"Greetings," he says to Wilford, nice and neutral.

[cottoncandypink]

Ugh, cats. Ugh, black cats! Wilford can't help if he eyes it warily, even if it is a kitten.

"What do you want?" he asks, less than nice and neutral.

[ostro_goth]

"Have you found your dog yet?" Teja asks, still utterly tame-sounding, tame as the kitten.

The kitten is purring, curled up on Teja's forearm.

[cottoncandypink]

"I don't have him, but I know who does."

He still keeps watching the cat, like he expects it to leap up and curse him or something.

[ostro_goth]

"Who does?" Teja asks.

The tiny cat is utterly small, sweet and sleepy.

[cottoncandypink]

Wilford is surprised Teja even has to ask.

"Is this formality, or because you really don't know?" he asks.

[ostro_goth]

"Tell me."

[cottoncandypink]

Wilford rolls his eyes.

"The tooth fairy."

Obviously it's Jim. Why would it be anybody but Jim?