OOM: Room 6620, #4

[the_gene_genie]

 He hadn't dozed for long yesterday. And it had been another restless night, although not as bad as before - he still gave up in the end though, and slipped out of bed before Alex woke up. He thought she'd be awake by the time he got out of the shower, but no. 

He went downstairs for a pint. Ridiculous really, at that time of morning, but he always recommended the pub after long operations that finished in the morning, so why should now be any different?  

Of course, he got a bit more than he bargained for.

Which is why he's not trying to be quiet when he comes back into the room. If she wakes up, good. She needs to hear this.

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[the_gene_genie]

He slumps down into the armchair, and stares forward. Maybe he should be trying to work out what he should say, what shouldn't get passed on, what he cares that people know or not. It's hard to focus on what he thinks about it. A large part of him thinks that he doesn't really have the right to hold anything back. At the same time, when he considers admitting what happened to him his insides recoil at once. So...no. Probably not that. But if she asks-

He drinks his drink, and gets another, and drinks that too. He'll still be sitting there, smoking distractedly, when she comes back.

[lady_bols]

She takes her time getting ready, using her regimen as an excuse to get her thoughts together. Hair and makeup and clothes, they're all armour of a sort. Only this isn't the look Shaz will know.

She's not quite the Alex Drake she was at Fenchurch, but then again, she's not quite the Alex Drake of 2008 either.

She wanders back out to the wardrobe, her towel forgotten entirely this time. Another set of clothes is waiting for her, and she doesn't even have the wherewithal to be surprised by that. Another simple silk tunic and couture jeans. And her favourite pair of trainers. That does manage to get a smile.

When she's dressed, she ambles back over and nudges his booted foot with a toe.

'You hungry, love?'

[the_gene_genie]

He shrugs a shoulder, and grinds the butt of his fag into the ashtray.

'She might not be there now. She was going to get a room.'

A bit more important than food, he thinks.

[lady_bols]

'Well...' He's right. But that doesn't make her any less likely to skip breakfast.

'Doesn't mean you and I can't go have a pot of tea and some eggs, does it?'

Her weight shifts, and she fiddles with the simple hoop earrings she's wearing.

[the_gene_genie]

He stands up, and scoops the room key up.

'C'mon then.'

Stuff it. Get it done. And he can always drink tea.

[lady_bols]

Again, she's swept along in his wake, only this time, she's smiling quietly to herself.

Tea cures a world of ills.

'You know... She's going to take one look at us and know we're sleeping together.'

[the_gene_genie]

'I already told her.'

He amends straight after.

'Didn't put it like that. Didn't have to.'

He glances over as they walk.

'I don' think we've got it tattooed on our foreheads.'

[lady_bols]

She grins, looking down at their feet, a bit of colour rising in her cheeks.

'I suspect they thought we already were.'

Not that they had an entirely professional and platonic relationship. It was always something more than that, at least that's how it felt to her.

[the_gene_genie]

'They had a pool going.'

Which he had suspected for a long time as well. It doesn't bother him, even if they should have had better things to do. It's just normal station behaviour, as far as he's concerned.

'She said Ray won. Or would've. She looked a bit sick about the whole idea, actually.'

Which is weird to him, but whatever. He hasn't really understood what they had, so he doesn't expect anyone else to get it either.

[lady_bols]

'A pool!?' All right, yes, that's a bit much for liking. She mutter something colourful about Ray's lineage under her breath, but smirks nonetheless.

'She probably thinks it's none of her business, and rightfully so.'

If Shaz has any other problems with her and Gene ending up together, well, she'll deal with it then. Right now, she just wants to make sure her friend and colleague is taken care of, settling in and what not.

[the_gene_genie]

He shrugs, and hits the bottom of the stairs. His eyes immediately scan the place.

'She can't have worried too much about it being her business if she threw money in the pot,' he points out. But yeah, still not worried.

'Can't see her.'

[lady_bols]

'Hmm. No matter. She'll turn up when she turns up.'

She heads for their corner, eyes scanning the room as well.

'Any sign of the lads?' That has to be on his mind.

[the_gene_genie]

His face closes off a bit.

'No.'

Yeah. It's on his mind.

[lady_bols]

She slips into the seat and slides across so he can join her.

'I wouldn't worry about it, love. If they show up, they show up. We'll deal with it then.'

She's not about to let him go it alone anymore.

[the_gene_genie]

He takes one more look around, and sits down.

'Not as simple as that though, is it?'

Nothing about this will ever be simple.

[lady_bols]

'It is that simple,' she says, her tone gentle but firm. 'At the end of it all, they were yours. We all were. Regardless of everything else, we were a team.'

One hand rests on his arm, briefly, and she smiles at him.

'We are... a team.'

[the_gene_genie]

'That's your opinion, though.'

Not that he doesn't appreciate it, and smiles a little bit to show it.

'They probably think a bit differently.'

Or maybe they don't. He doesn't know, can't say, and it'll drive him mental wondering if they'll turn up here and throw everything into the mix again.

[lady_bols]

'Well then I'll just have to set them straight, won't I?'

It wouldn't be the first time. She raises a hand and beckons one of the rats.

'Tea, please. And -- I think I'll have an omelette. With toast.'

[the_gene_genie]

He snorts quietly, and puts in an order for tea and toast. When the rat's gone, he leans back and lights a cigarette.

'They're blokes, Bols. It's really not...look, just leave 'em to think what they want, if they show up.'

On the job, he'd order them around without a thought. But it's different now, and that's that, as far as he's concerned.

[lady_bols]

He's genuinely worried, and doing his best not to show it. It's not something she's seen often with him, and it only reinforces how much he cares about all of them. They're more than his team; they're the only family he's known for thirty years.

She reaches out and takes his hand between hers, leaning on her elbows. Her gaze plays over his rough knuckles, and she sighs.

'Forgive me for stating the obvious, but... You're not alone anymore.'

It's important that he knows that.

[the_gene_genie]

'Don' matter.'

In this, he won't be swayed.

'There's some stuff women should leave well alone, is all I mean.'

His relationship with her, even before all this, is very different than the one he has with his lads. And he reckons the boys, Ray in particular, wouldn't be interested in hearing what she thinks they should think about him. He might be wrong. He might never have the chance to find out. But that's what he reckons.

[lady_bols]

And it's clear, he's taken her statement far more seriously than she intended. Wouldn't be the first time they've misunderstood each other, and it won't be the last.

'I think what you meant to say is, "Keep your nose out of it, Bolly."'

Her lips slide into a crooked smirk.

'And I will, never fear. But I will tell you what I think, and you can take it or leave it.'

Her tone is still gentle, affectionate even. He's such a hard case sometimes.

[the_gene_genie]

'Yeah. That.'

He shrugs, pulls a smile, and looks down at the table.

'You always tell me what you think. Something'd really be wrong if you didn't.'

[lady_bols]

'So glad you noticed,' she says, her smirk broadening into a grin, letting him see everything for once, if he cares to look.

'However did you survive so long without me?'

[the_gene_genie]

The tiniest flicker of a frown crosses his brow, but then disappears.

'Dunno.'

He's looking around the room again. She really knows how to pick her words sometimes, and while he's doing his best to get past all this, it's not that easy. He hates that tiny things - things that he'd normally think nothing of - strike home.

No matter. The tea, and breakfast, turns up. He's glad of the distraction.