watching_you | OOM: Suite 130

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OOM: Suite 130

Veronica leads Mills through the labyrinthine corridors of the Milliways guest area until, eventually, they reach the right hallway.

"This place can be a bit confusing at times," she offers apologetically. "Things have a tendency to move. But I'm right up here --"

She cuts off, stopping short. This hallway's not empty.

Super.

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"Okay. Hmm. How about the front door?"

Nodding, she proceeds to it and pushes it open. On the other side are his front steps, the courtyard, all of the usual trappings. She leaves this open for a moment, glancing at Mills to make sure he's paying attention. Then she pulls the door shut again.

From around her neck she pulls out a long, thin chain of necklace; it ends in a wide v-shaped tangle of Celtic knotwork, marked with a single green gem.

"If this doesn't work, I may need to borrow your couch tonight."

Mills presses his lips together and refrains from commenting, simply standing back and letting her work.

"This something Bar gave you?"

She shakes her head.

"A magician guy -- sorcerer, something, I don't know. Not the kind that pulls rabbits out of hats. The real deal. He made it for me. It's supposed to... tie me to the bar, tell the universe that that's where I belong. It stopped working there for about, uh..."

An awkward cough.

"About seven years, but lately..."

She lets her eyes drift closed, her face fading into a tranquil mask as her fingers wrap around the amulet. For a few long seconds she does nothing but breathe, slow and deep. Then she opens her eyes and takes the door handle, opening it again.

His front steps are gone, replaced with the crowded, noisy scene of the bar.

"Taa-daa."

Mills' eyebrows rise. "Impressive. I imagine that's handy in a pinch."

Yes, he's already evaluating how it might work in a tactical situation.

"Well? Shall we?"

"It might be if it could be trusted to work in a pinch."

She tucks the necklace back under her shirt and moves to his side. This time she doesn't wait for him to offer before slipping her hand around his arm.

"Lead on."

He peers through the door, assessing the crowd and the room beyond. It looked just as it had when they'd left.

He steps through, keeping her close to his side.

"What did you do when it stopped working? And what made you think to try again?"

With a shrug, "I lived my life. Finished school, worked for a while, went to the academy, got -- got a job. Seven years. I stopped trying to get back. Left this thing in a drawer.

"Then one day I'm opening the door to my apartment and hey, there it is."

Her tone is difficult to read.

"I was gone for seven years and only a couple of months had passed. Far as my friends were concerned I was on a summer vacation or something. That's Milliways for you.

"Anyway, since the door started appearing regularly again, I dug the necklace up and started wearing it again. Hasn't failed me since."

"So it wasn't that the necklace stopped working, it was that the Bar stopped coming for you. I've heard other patrons talk about that happening. I guess even the end of the universe can't be relied upon 100% of the time."

He stops in the middle of the room, eying the tables. When he turns back to her, he's got that look in his eye again.

"I've seen Bar give people pretty much anything they ask for..."

She eyes him.

"Well, bar the building and Bar the big sexy hunk o' wood are two entirely different things. One is friendly and serves drinks and a miscellany of other objects; the other is huge and ambivalent and lets in terrorists and schoolkids without giving a damn. So I'm not sure what you're thinking."

"Bar, the entity," he clarifies. "Could get you a file on me, if you asked for it."

His voice is carefully neutral.

She steps back from him slightly, startled.

"I -- I don't know. I suppose she might, if I asked... Why?"

"I know you, Agent Mars. The moment I walk away, you'll have questions. And I see no reason not to answer them, if I can."

"I mean, you know about the... accounting." The euphemism makes him chuckle a little. "Hell, forget I said anything."

Because the next logical step is him asking for her file. And he's not sure he's ready for everything that implies.

"I'm not going to do that." She's frowning, annoyed. "I shouldn't have done it in the first place and I'm sure as hell not going to do it to you. Anything you want to tell me you can tell me yourself."

A pause.

"And I hope that goes both ways."

He can't help but give her a wry smirk at that.

"It does. Damn you," he teases.

"Good."

Her feathers de-ruffle.

"Is there anything you want to tell me?"

"Nothing you don't want to find out on your own in good time," he deadpans, still deeply amused.

He gestures to an empty table.

"Fair enough."

A glance to the table, then back to him, and she takes a seat.

"So. What shall we do next?"

"Well, let's review, shall we?" He sits beside her, his back to the wall. "There was beer with advanced evasion techniques, and then tequila and impertinent questions." He leans in a bit. "Footrubs at no extra charge. We did impromptu criminal intervention at the farmer's market. Feel free to jump in here at any time."

Edited 2009-04-29 20:25 (UTC)

"You bought me a flower and I freaked out your neighbour and then we ate dinner."

She ticks off her fingers as she recites, not counting to anything in particular.

"And then, we, ah..."

"Ah, yes. Can't forget that, can we?"

"Not that I'd want to," he adds quickly.

"Yes, well."

She's blushing, just a little.

"Point is, I think we've covered all the bases, really."

"Right."

He looks at his hands, and then back at her.

"Walk you home?" There's a hopeful look in his eyes.

He looks like he doesn't want this day to end.

She can't blame him.

"That would be nice."

He nods and stands, holding her chair for her and then offering her his arm.

"We should do this again," he says. "Sooner rather than later."

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