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(no subject)

Ted's in a booth. He's got a Dorothy Sayers mystery in one hand, and a pint of Guinness in another hand. A fresh pack of Chesterfields waits for him.

An absent smile crosses his face; he's always liked Gaudy Night.

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There is now a girl in the next booth over, standing on the bench. The wall between the two booths is low enough for her to rest folded arms on top of it and, chin on arms, read over his shoulder. Or over his head, whatever.

Ted puts down the book for a moment to light a cigarette.

"Bad for you," she tells him placidly. "Turn the page."

Ted looks up and smiles. "Old habits die hard." Pause. "Were you reading along?"

"I was reading."

This may or may not be an answer to the question he asked, but that's okay.

"Have you read it before?"

He shifts in the booth so it's easier to look up at her.

She shakes her head, chin still on folded arms.

"It's a good one," he says. "All about whether or not there's room for a normal life in an academic setting. And, under that, whether or not you can love somebody if you're shut up in the ivory tower of thought or academia or what have you. Devoted to a cause."

This makes him think of The Dark Tower, and his face darkens slightly as he pulls on his cigarette and exhales.

River looks away.

"Can. If you're careful."

Ted nods. "That's what Sayers has to say about it, anyhow. Later on."

River looks back at him. A little sidelong; she turned her head away, too.

"Eddie told me to ask you about a duel."

River brightens a little.

"Caught it. Before it fell. It would have gotten muddy."

"So you won, then? And if you did...who did you duel?"

"Roland," she says tranquilly. "You never turned the page."

"I've read it six times," says Ted absently. "You dueled Roland? Why?"

"Six is a significant number on some planets. Two and three are factors." A brief, reflective pause. "On some planets they juggle geese. His plan wouldn't have worked. So I won."

Ted rides over the rest of it. "What was he planning?"

Though he's thinking, somewhere: geese?

Ted should talk to Wash. He could get lessons.

"To win." Duh. "Can't cry off. Once the trial starts. But he's not a doctor. No training in therapy."

Ted looks at River sharply.

"No. You can't cry off, once the trial starts. He gave Jake a chance."

Pause.

Slowly: "You duelled Roland. And you won."

River smiles, small and happy.

"So you're a gunslinger."

In contrast, Ted's face is tight. So's his voice.

River looks at him uncertainly.

"And are you carrying a gun?"

He closes the book without marking his page.

She shakes her head.

"Not until she gets better. We agreed. The voices in your head. They, they make it change and you can't look."