tampered | Log: Closed

Log: Closed

When; Tuesday July 10 (evening)
Rating; ~~TBA~~ PG/PG-13 maybe for language.
Characters; Frederick Abberline and Faye Valentine.
Summary; Uh, he's back? ETA: Faye and Fred reunite, smoke, drink, and take the piss out of each other. Oh, sweet familiarity.
Log;

Finally dry from his arrival in the fountain, of all places, Abberline had spent a decent amount of time lurking (and chatting) about the network. It was surreal, being back. The months he had missed out on were not, as they had been last time, passing about innocently just above his head, but entirely lost on him. He'd been somewhere - alive, but not really. Had he been reborn? Or had he simply been to the real afterlife? He couldn't place it. He could think and think of it, but it was always just beyond his memory - his fingertips could brush it but he couldn't quite reach it.

So, there were more important things to be had - namely, cigarettes and liquor. That was simple enough (even if Cafe Juliet had undergone a somewhat disturbing change) - what he really wanted, however, he knew he'd have to wait until he'd settled in properly enough to hazard going to the edge of the Underground.

He mumbled in thanks to the faceless attendant, walking out with his fresh pack, holding the thing in his hands for a moment, apparently lost in thought.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

She had a certain spring to her step, that was for sure. Far be it from Faye to call it excitement or anticipation, since she didn't think either of those things fit the situation at all. If you asked her, she probably would have replied that she was walking purposefully. Sure. People did that: walked with purpose, walked to and fro with purpose. So Faye decided that's what she was doing, a woman on a mission. To get cigarettes. And possibly to find one Frederick Abberline.

After all, there was nothing exciting about seeing him after... how many months was it? She'd lost track a while ago. Nothing exciting at all. Maybe there was something a little interesting--she'd never known anyone that could get gone and come back with greater speed and efficiency than herself, at least. She was a purposeful, interested young woman. Great start.

And of course someone like Fred wasn't in the least bit difficult to spot, as far as Faye was concerned, just her luck. It probably didn't hurt that she was looking for him, however, not necessarily eyes peeled but looking nonetheless. Approaching from the left, Faye grinned, and crossed her arms, saying smartly, "Lost?"

He did notice the footsteps coming up to him - they sounded rather aggressive, how could he miss them? And he did notice, maybe, from the corner of his eye, a flash of exposed skin and neon yellow. But it was all just because that's what he did. He was a police officer. He noticed things. He wasn't hoping anyone was going to come meet him. That would be silly.

Brown eyes trailed up, slightly out of focus, until they settled on the approaching woman's face. "Ah... Miss Valentine." He managed a slight, airy smile. He looked the same - pale, dull brown hair, unremarkable height. A tired sort of look around his otherwise sharp eyes. There was something about him in a pause - because he had a moment where he realized truly how much he did miss her. "No, not lost," he continued, side of his mouth quirking up. "Pleasantly unattached to a location, but no, not lost."

That was Fred alright--slightly off-color, slightly off-balance, only a little bit taller than she was. Normal to a T. He didn't look any worse for wear, not that Faye was doing any sort of mental diagnostics, of course. Just a quick scan, to make sure he wasn't going to steal her lighter and then bolt again. She momentarily considered what would happen if she tried to lock him in his apartment but dismissed it almost as fast.

Faye frowned, effectively snapping herself out of it and bringing them back to zero. "Pleasantly unattached to a location?" she echoed, raising an eyebrow while she dug through a pocket, looking for a lighter. "Honestly, you're back a full five seconds and you're already making no sense. Maybe I was better off without you."

"Oh, maybe," he said, faint smile on his lips, which now held a cigarette. He gave her a nod in thanks for the lighter, clicking the flame out from it and coaxing the thing to life with a grateful inhale. It wasn't until he was handing it back that it occurred to him he hadn't thought to get matches instead. Abberline wondered, idly, if he was losing his identity. Even the smallest things no longer gave him pause.

"Unattached, meaning, I've not bothered to check in on my previous residence, and not sure if I will." He exhaled. "... Been taking care of yourself?"

Lighter back in her rightful possession, Faye didn't hesitate tapping her own cigarette out of its carton and indulging herself, breathing deep and gratifyingly as she mirrored that little smile of his and listened to him. She was surprised he was even smoking something he hadn't rolled himself, since he'd been so adamant about his preference before, but that wasn't really of concern. She passed on the opportunity to ask about his apartment, especially when noting that he looked a little more damp and rumpled than she remembered.

Shrugging in response, Faye turned and made to start walking. Over her shoulder, she kept on, replying, "If by taking care of myself you mean having an apartment and staying relatively sane, then yeah. Otherwise, I've been fine, curse wise. You missed a couple good ones..."

Trailing off, she turned to face him, walking almost-backwards so she could see him, exhaling smoke and asking, "What, worried about little ol' me, Fred?"

"As I recall you're not among the walking dead," he said, around his cigarette. He made a face, but didn't comment on their displeasing taste. He wasn't going to bitch about getting his nicotine fix - he could buy paper and tobacco later, when he had time. Now, he was still getting his bearings.

"So, yes, maybe it did occur to me..." he looked up at her. "Maybe not to worry, but to be interested in your state."

"Well however you wanna put it," said Faye, snorting, "I'm fine. Still alive, the last time I checked. Unlike everyone else that's showed up here dead, I know how to keep myself out of trouble." She passed a hand through her hair, thinking the comment might have sounded a bit bitter but ignoring it all the same, taking another quick drag and glancing over at him.

"You know," she began again, turning a corner, "if you didn't fuck off every five minutes maybe you could keep your little tabs on me or interests or whatever a lot easier, without having to bribe me."

"I'll have you know I lived a long and proper life," Fred pointed out, sounding amused, walking with her. "And I was in law enforcement. I'm pretty damned impressive, if I do say so myself."

"Tabs? Interests?" He raised an eyebrow. "Bribes? How've I bribed you, Miss Valentine?"

Faye scoffed, flicking the butt of her cigarette onto the pavement and twisting her boot over it. "I don't really get along all that well with cops," she said, giving him a smirk. "So that's not exactly going to impress me."

"And," she went on, raising a finger as if to make a point, "you bribed me by offering to get me a drink. Well, you might not've offered yet, but, like I said, you owe me."

((ooc: dahling! you poor thing. lemme rub your shoulders.))

"It's supposed to be impressive in the context that I'd not died in the line of duty," he said, chuckling. Of course he'd be able to laugh at that.

"Ah, I see, so my very presence is a bribe." He looked at her out of the corner of his eyes. "Well, far be it for me to disappoint such a lady. Shall we?"

Faye stored the question waiting to slip out for a later time, maybe when he was drunk and wouldn't mind answering it. People could be so touchy about that crap, and although Faye was curious, she wasn't stupid. In response she only nodded, clicking her tongue and narrowing her eyes.

"You aren't worth that much, Inspector," she quipped, catching his eye, "but you acting like some proper escort is a laugh and a half, so I might just be willing to look past it. Like I said: generous." Pausing, Faye considered her options. The apartment was out of the question, most likely, and since he didn't even have one, well... "Bar?"

"A bar?" He gave Faye a curious grin. Why not go back to her place? Well, he wasn't going to outright ask. Yet. He'd been snooping around, he had some idea.

"I must say I'm really quite shocked you're not offering to whisk me away and disrobe me again. What was that game you had us play upon the destined eve of our first meeting?"

Faye shot him a look and turned to face him. "So you are a parrot. I never knew," she crooned smartly, hands on her hips, though they didn't stay there long.

Trying her best not to sputter, she shoved his shoulder, albeit a bit playfully. She could feel a blush rising at that, but fought it back down. After all, Faye didn't blush. "I'm sure that's probably the other way around," she replied. "You're the one taking me. And I don't know what you're talking about. Simple game of blackjack, even though you kept insisting on taking your shirt off."

He chuckled, and it was that quiet, subdued sort of laugh he'd always had. He rolled with her shove, eying her, amused. "Yes, of course." He let the cigarette he'd been smoking drop to the ground, crushing it under his heel as he walks before getting out another.

"So where's a good bar 'round here? I never did get up to much socializing."

Watching him take another cigarette out of the packaging, Faye held out her hand, indicating that he should drop one in her palm or suffer some ultimate humiliation she'd be forced to think of on the spot.

As for his question, she gave him a toothy grin, actually laughing a little. "We need to get you out more. Sun actually can do wonders for your complexion, you know. Pasty isn't really so fashionable anymore, Fred." She spoke while turning another corner, leading them down one of the side streets where she knew there was a, uh, charming little place. Fred's skin would probably enjoy the smoky half-light, at least.

"Being burned to a crisp isn't fashionable, either," he pointed out - because that's what happened when he went in the sun. Red, burned, and an pain. It was terribly unpleasant. He'd gone to the City's beach once with--

He paused for a moment in the process of lighting his cigarette, but had moved on quickly enough. These things really did taste like shit, though, he reflected. He really aught to get that tobacco. Maybe the bar would be selling some. They approached, and he quirked an eyebrow. It didn't look like the nightclub setting Faye preferred.

"Get yourself some SPF 5000 and you should be all set," she replied, yanking on the door so that it pulled out and fell open. It was a bit heavier than she remember, but Faye managed, leaning her shoulder on it to prop it open and gesturing inside. She could feel the AC from where she was standing, and the smoke from inside. It was quiet, something Faye found that she liked lately.

"Age before beauty," she motioned him in, pinching another cigarette out of her own pocket since he wasn't feeling as generous as she seemed to be. Maybe the liquor would soften him up.

In that strange moment of disquiet, Abberline had missed her requesting a smoke - else he'd have of course given her one. He still hadn't gained his land legs, as it were, about the City. In a lurking corner of his mind he wondered if the visions would begin again. Seeing Faye again was a relief, but it also disoriented him. He shouldn't be feeling like this place was home. Should he?

"Many thanks," he said, quirk in his voice as he stepped in, still rumpled and barely warmed-over from his arrival. The familiar atmosphere was relaxing, and he had no trouble finding a private booth for them, in no mood to catch any socialization from any other patrons.

Faye slid into the booth easily, crossing one leg over the other and leaning forward as she drew an ashtray across the table. Flaring up and inhaling deeply, she let her eyes adjust to the semi-darkness, studying the man across from her with a wary eye. Part of her wanted to start firing off questions--where were you? what were you doing? are you really that stupid?--but something held her back.

Odd enough in itself though it was, Faye didn't fight it, tapping her ashes into the tray and looking down as she did so. Out of the corner of her mouth, exhaling smoke as she spoke, she attempted to be cordial: "So, Fred, how've you been? Other than the obvious."

Another odd pause, and he seemed to be lost in thought.

"... I'm not sure," he finally admitted. "I know something happened. I was somewhere. Not here, not at home. But I can't remember. And I feel like..." he trailed off, and shook his head. He crushed out his cigarette when it was only half-done, and obvious sign of how off-kilter he still truly was.

"Like what?" Faye picked up, taking another brief inhale and watching the cherry on the end brighten and die. She was starting to really need a drink, and the fact that he'd stubbed his cigarette before it was even close to being finished gave her pause.

"You sure you're alright?" she finally asked. "You're acting weirder than usual."

Seeming to realize what he'd done with the cigarette, Abberline sat back, blinking as if clearing something from his eyes. He took a moment to order them both a drink. Whiskey, because he knew Faye wasn't the sort of woman to turn her nose up at something strong. It wasn't until the liquor was delivered that he spoke again.

"I feel like wherever I was, I didn't remember anything about myself. Because when I woke up, choking in the fountain, everything was coming as a shock. My head... feels like it's been sucked out and put back in all of a sudden." He stared into the deep amber liquid. "... Sounds stupid, I'm sure, but it's just unsettling. I feel slow, mentally. I don't like it."

Faye clicked her tongue thoughtfully, at his drink choice and also at his little monologue. She could smell the whiskey from here, even took a tentative little sip as he spoke to test the potency. If it made her eyes water and her nose sting, she'd be happy with having it.

"So," she began slowly, running her finger around the rim of her glass before she extinguished her cigarette, "basically, you're saying you've got the worst hangover since birth." She had a feeling sarcasm wasn't going to be on par, however, so she dropped it quick and looked at him. "I don't think it sounds stupid," said Faye. "I don't really think drinking a bunch of whiskey is going to sharpen you up, though."

"Oh but you'd be surprised," he drawled, sipping at his whiskey. His eyes fluttered a bit, as if he hadn't had anything in ages - but the next sip was fine. He sighed, leaning his head back. "Or it could just be withdrawal."

Faye honestly couldn't believe that the shit they were drinking didn't put him under the table. She eyed him skeptically, as if doing this would communicate how much she believed him. As if to prove her point, she hauled down a significant amount, rubbing the bridge of her nose and letting the taste roll over her tongue.

Vile.

"Withdrawal?" she managed, voice deep and hoarse as she tried to swallow the aftertaste. "Never realized you thought of me that way."

((ooc: it's okay! i still love you! ♥))

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