Wednesday, 18 November 2015

Or you could just come back to me. 

He has his hands in his pockets, facing the window so I can't read his expression.

You're so busy sizing up your next conquests you don't even see the obvious solution. It doesn't have to be public. It wasn't, once upon a time. Let them think they know everything, let them think they can find out whatever secrets they assume I have and meanwhile we can pick up where we last left off. 

He finally turns to look at me and I'm somehow immune to his Jeffrey-Dean gaze.

He points at me and nods. Oh, you're only immune because you're tired and because they drug your food. 


Neamhchiontach, DON'T. Don't come in here and be sweet and innocent and act like the world is such a wonderful place. It isn't. Humans aren't Good People, Baby, they're miserable, selfish fucks and if you can make this spinning blue ball a little less miserable for me and get something out of it for yourself then what's the harm in it? Where's the harm? He resumes his gaze out the window.

You're such a romantic. 

I'm allowed precious little time to practice it, but I think you would be impressed these days. 

Another time, Diabhal. 

I know. I'm thinking New Year's, hopefully sooner. You're a little ticking time-bomb and I'm no longer the big bad wolf. I'm just a lonely guy with a lot of assets. He chuckles and comes over to me. Indulge an old man in a shared drink? 

I have to check. 

With whom? 


Oh, well, then I guess that's a no if you're still waiting for permission from the closest thing you can get to Jake. 

I bite my lip while he stares and make a decision I will just pay for later. Not like going anywhere else for company will make the day better, may as well stick with the familiar.

Okay, one drink. Then I need to go. 

Or what, Princess?

Or Loch will get mad. 

He'll turn red, catch fire and then melt like wax the minute you turn those eyes on him. I wouldn't worry about breaking his rules if he's not going to have a suitable punishment. 

I'm a grown woman, there is no punishment. 

You're a child to him. He'll ground you, maybe take away your computer and then you'll charm him back in out of the cold and we'll go around in circles again. 

Or maybe he'll kill you. 

I'm not worried about that, Bridget. His bark was always worse than his bite. He doesn't like conflict. He just wants a simple life with you, on the beach near the fair. 

And I gave him the circus instead. 

That's what he gets for trying to kick it up a notch, doesn't he?