'Right, you need a drink.'

He's swaying; he knows it and doesn't care. He gets the glasses down on the table without breaking them, pours without spilling.

'I never thought...'

All day, he's been thinking things he never thought he would. He's been thinking about telling her, these last few hours. All these things he never thought would happen. And now he's here and he can't bring himself to say any of it. He's too tired, too drunk.

'...it's all shit, isn' it?'

She looks beautiful even in her dressing gown. He does notice. Does take it in, as he hands her  her glass. But tonight, there's not much room for anything but just how shit this really is.

'You an' me, Bolly. You an' me.'

'Stay.'

'What're we doing?'

'Waiting.'

'What for?'

He has to speak words he never thought he'd have to, in this office.



'A traitor.'


He'd find the silence oppressive if he were thinking of anything but the person about to walk through that door. And the thought of this makes him feel sick but there's no hiding away from it. It has to be faced, so face it they will.

 

( ...you're a good, kind, decent man. )

 

 

( The Lion of Fenchurch East )

 

 

( 2x01: SuperMac )