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Millitimed to after ooms

Preston Opened and closed the door to his bathroom-coming face to face with Milliways once again.
Good to feel like one belongs somewhere.

In an attempt to assuage the guilt of physically harming one of his now-closest friends he's got a book. It's "A christmas Carol" and he's looking for a few specific people to ask questions on about it, but he's open for conversation. Certain pages have been marked with yellow stickies.

He also has a few generic books, their titles so worn and faded that even he doesn't know what they are.

Mun is absolutely terrified that the scenes from "National Lampoons a Christmas Vacation" will repeat themselves directly across from her house so please oh please tag at will!

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"Well, we're not exactly talking about someone who'd be making their presence known to the authorities, now are we?" Ray says. "I mean, you couldn't pay me enough to go on the dose, which is what I'd have to do in order to pass myself off as a real Librian. It'd have to be a sneak-in-sneak-out kind of a thing, without much time spared for anything to do with the authorities."

Actually, the clerical neuron has passed out on a massive tequila bender and the common sense neurons are off partying in Tahiti.

"A ghost?"

Preston knows of nothing else.

"If you could convince one of your spectres..."
A sigh and a shake of the head, then a hopeful look, "Could you?"

Preston's not lazy, he just genuinely wants to avoid killing again, especially someone like Father. Engrained work and the like.

"They don't respond well to convincing, although I might be able to get one in a box for you," Ray says. "But then it'd be released in your world-"

He pauses.

"Well, we could always ask Master Qui-Gon. He'd be a ghost if he ever left Milliways. I kind of wanted to take him to New York City first, but you never know..."

Preston stops, "...no. I cannot ask anyone from any world to visit Libria."

His face is red with embrassment.

"I shall...attempt to speak to Jurgen again." Jurgen was the one who he could potentially most easily sway.
the words are there.

i don't know if he'll speak to me again, but it's worth a try.

"I'd do it if you needed me to," Ray says, before the neurons can come back and demand to know WTF the brain stem thought it was doing operating the mouth on their behalf. "But if you'd rather not..."

"No."

Preston's voice is firm.

"You're my friend Ray. And to be perfectly honest, you stick out like a sore thumb." He tries a smile, attempting to soften the librian bluntness, "...I'm sorry-that came out terribly wrong-I didn't mean-"

he lowers his hands, "You remind me too much of Errol and I can't stand to see another innocent person get hurt."

The idea that Errol Partridge was hardly innocent and that it had been Preston who hurt him is pushed to the back of his head.

"No offense taken, John." Ray waves a hand dismissively. "I know I do. I'm a horrible actor. I've never been able to read people's faces and I can't hide what I'm feeling without putting a paper bag over my head- and sometimes not even then. I thought I'd offer, though. I mean, I've fought for my other friends before. I owe you that much, at least."

Preston looks down at his hands.

"Friendship feels good."
It's a comment more to himself then anything.

"...I...I can't let you do that." He looks at Ray, "I just-I just can't. If you've never killed anyone intentionally...taken a human life..."

he thinks about Mary, Partridge, the thousands of others, "It weighs on you, it digs into your skin."

He looks up at Ray, "I'm going to try to convince Jurgen to come here." He says firmly, "You and he should get along very well, he's an archivist and the leader of the movement. He's half-mad of course but at the same time if he can bring others..."

He doesn't mention his pet dream of bringing his son and daughter, having them see the green fields and lake, having them meet Ray...

"He'll know more." Preston said, "I can only govern my own actions but with Jurgen here, perhaps we can form a plan of attack."

He says we in the general tense.
"Do you know any military men? Your Master? would he..."
Talk to him and convince him that his plan of me killing father is lunacy?

"I'm just a soldier Ray, but if I can convince the commander to come here..."

Ray nods after a while. "You're right. The demons were one thing, but ... I've seen a man killed in front of me, and I threw up until there was nothing left but bright orange. So... yeah. If you can get Jurgen here, I'll be more than happy to talk to him. I can do that much, at least."

Preston puts a hand on Ray's shoulder, but the gesture's uncomfortable for Preston, and sudden. It's a motion Jurgen has used many times.

"Thank you Ray."

And it's the most heartfelt most sincere thank you ever heard by the ears of man.

Ray smiles, a little. He knows this can't be easy for the poor guy.

"You're welcome, John. It's what I'm here for."

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