milliways_bar | (no subject)

"Yes," Charlie says proudly. "This is Seth."

Seth burbles. I'm Seth! I'm cute and you should shower me with attention and kisses!

D'awwwwwww, who can resist a face like that?

Catherine tickles the tiny toes, earning giggles from a squirmy Seth. "He's gorgeous! How old is he?"

"Nine months." Charlie beams at them. "You've made a friend, bug."

Seth wiggles with glee. Everybody loves me!

"I'm Charlie, by the way. I don't think we've met."

"I'm Catherine." She winks at him in lieu of shaking his hand, and sits opposite his chair. "From Earth, 2005, Las Vegas crime lab. Yourself?"

Winking. Oo.

"Earth, Manchester, England originally. Currently residing on a deserted island somewhere in the south Pacific where I believe it's still 2004, but who can tell. The monsoon season's just started, anyway.

"Crime lab?"

Seth, in the completely unconcerned manner of babies, sticks his fingers in Charlie's mouth. Me now, Da! Me now!

Flirt, flirt, flirty flirt... "A deserted island? Along with Gilligan and Mary-Ann?" she teases, leaning back in her seat.

"Crime lab. We're forensic scientists--my team and I. We analyze crime scenes and collect evidence... it must sound pretty boring to you." She looks rueful.

She coos at the baby, making silly faces at it.

"Yes, the coconut radio is coming along nicely.

"Oh! You must know Gil Grissom. He's from Vegas, yeah?"

He nuzzles Seth's hand. "Do you really want me munching on you, peanut? You taste like baby powder."

"I work with him," Catherine nods, grinning from ear to ear. "Sara Sidle, too, and Nick Stokes--they're all here. Anybody else from your world?"

Seth babbles very importantly to his daddy, and Catherine feels a slight homesick pang of missing her daughter. But it passes as Charlie pretends to gnaw on Seth, making munching noises.

"Yeah--his mum, Claire, and some friends. Boone, um--" He tries to think of who else has been around lately. "Locke, Kate, Sawyer, Hurley, Sayid--quite a crowd of us, actually. Most of them come and go--I think they find it a bit clautrophobic."

Seth giggles with delight and gives Charlie a very damp baby-kiss.

"The crime scene stuff is pretty interesting, really. Though I have to admit I've usually been on the other side of the tape."

"After living on a deserted island it must be, I imagine," she smiles, tapping the table lightly with her fingertips. "How'd all of you end up in the same place?"

"Or the other side of the bars?" She gives him a sly look.

"Our plane crashed." He shrugs. He'd demonstrate but his hands are full of wiggling baby.

"I'm a model of temperance and virtue, ma'am--it takes all my tolerance to live in a bar." He tries to look innocent. As usual, he fails utterly.

"I'm sorry to hear that..." She looks concerned. "Is anybody looking out for you? Rescue attempts?"

"Oh, of course, naturally." Catherine looks anything but inncoent herself. "You're such a good, soothing, calming influence on Seth, I'm sure..."

"My brother comes here sometimes," Charlie says a little more seriously. "They were told everyone died. And we decided not to have him tell anyone we weren't--no one would believe him, yeah? The grief-sticken brother of one of the victims insisting there was one tiny island out of thousands . . ." He sighs.

Seth sighs too.

"I'm a very calming influence, obviously. The little flirt."

She looks down, rubbing the back of her neck. "At least you get to see him every now and then--you're not completely cut off from the world," she says quietly, with a rueful look. "How have you all managed, on the island?"

"He's going to be a heartbreaker, like his daddy," she agrees cheerfully. "What's his mom like?"

"Small, blonde and feisty." He grins.

"We do okay. It's got fresh water and caves to live in, and there's fruit and boar and fish. It's not easy but there are perks. Like this place.

"I've been to Vegas a couple times," he adds. "My band--I'm in a band at home--we played UNLV a couple years ago."

Catherine laughs. "You two met on the island, right? And things just... happened from there?"

She tilts her head thoughtfully. "What's your band's name?"

"Well, we met on the island . . . She was already expecting him, though.

"It's . . . complicated.

"Driveshaft. We're called Driveshaft." He sings a snatch of their song: "'You all everybody, you all everybody, acting like the stupid people wearing expensive clothes,'" and looks hopeful.

She nods, smiling. "I guess she became pretty important to you..."

He's met by applause and laughter. "Good stuff! You're the lead singer, natch... who else's in it?"

[ooc: Gotta run and catch the bus to get home--see you soon!]

"Well, er--no, I'm the bassist. My brother was the singer. Much better voice and he's always been more of a showman. My brother and some friends we grew up with, Sinjin and Patrick."

[ooc: np! and I must disclaim they've never named the other band members so this is stolen blatantly from a fansite.]

"You're not such a bad singer for a bassist..." Catherine winks at him. "Were you guys planning to get signed?"

[ooc: Hey, no worries from me ;)]

"We were signed. Had a hit."

Seth tries standing on Charlie's legs and bounces a little.

"Then it ended."

She notes the wary, haunted look in his eyes at that last, doesn't pursue it. "I'm sorry for the music world. It sounds like you guys would've been great," she says lightly, attempting a grin.

"So... what's happening on the island now, that most of you guys have access to Milliways?"

Charlie shrugs. "Dashing heroics, I suppose. Not everybody knows about it. I've been here a lot longer than anyone else--not like I could tell everyone there was a door in a tree that'll take them to a mystical bar at the end of the universe. Then they really would have thought I was bonkers."

"You're not, though," Catherine says amiably, "not past the usual rock star antics, I mean..." Her eyes are keen beneath their understanding.

"I have my own particular madness," Charlie says with a half-smile.

Seth decides to fall against Charlie's chest and starts nibbling on his shirt. Charlie just adjusts his grip on the baby, used to this.

"I haven't been a rock star for a long time."