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 Posted: Tue Dec 03, 2013 12:31 pm
He went to visit Shiloh again.
Sometimes he wondered why he did it, why he felt the need to go and visit someone who was already dead. It was a form of torture, really, if he thought about it, but still he came, every day like clockwork, a book in his hand and sometimes a cup of coffee grasped in the other, more often than not shot through with a douse of liquor. It was always the same book - The Count of Monte Cristo, mostly because Ian was slowly making his way through it, taking the occasional break to make commentary here and there, as though Shiloh might be able to hear him.
On this particular day, he had finally made it to Chapter Three.
" 'Hallo!" continued Caderousse, half-rising, and with his fist on the table, "hallo, Edmond! do you not see your friends, or are you too proud to speak to them?' " Ian read, leaning back on his chair with one leg draped over the other. He took a sip of coffee and read on. " 'No, my dear fellow!" replied Dantes, "I am not proud, but I am happy, and happiness blinds, I think, more than pride.' "
"Hmmph," Ian snorted, and shook his head a little. "That's a loaded question if I ever heard one, wouldn't you say, duck?"
He cast a sideways glance at the pod, which remained ever sideways, and gave a slight sigh, the pain in his chest increasing. Ian shifted a little in his seat, cleared his throat, pushed all negative thoughts away, and continued reading.
" 'Ah, very well, that's an explanation!" said Caderousse...."
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Posted: Tue Dec 03, 2013 1:31 pm
Harrison had been putting up with this s**t past the threshold of what he considered within the confines of human decency. If he heard one more poncyass, incomprehensible paragraph about french barons he was going to lose it.
"Like a ******** baked potato," he answered under his breath, turning the pages of his own magazine, which was a giant spread of the Bahamas.
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Posted: Tue Dec 03, 2013 2:04 pm
For the most part, Ian had generally ignored the presence of the other man in the room, always coming in and sitting down without a glance at that side of the room in favor for the much more preferable side, in spite of the fact that his side was...dead.
It was still better than him. Ian was surprised he hadn't commented earlier.
The book was shut with a snap as Ian turned slowly to look over at Harrison. "What," he said lightly, "are you hungry or something?"
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Posted: Tue Dec 03, 2013 2:17 pm
"Why, did you bring some hors d'oeuvres? Methinks my appetite was doth lost-eth back in Marsay."
He looked over at Shiloh.
"Was he French?"
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Posted: Tue Dec 03, 2013 2:20 pm
It was very hard not to roll his eyes. Ian's expression no.
"No," he said flatly. "Why, was he - " A glance at Rep's pod. " - blackmailing you or something?"
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Posted: Tue Dec 03, 2013 2:54 pm
"Nah."
Harrison held up his finger demonstratively.
"Got a ring and everything. ...What about you and Baron von Flamingo? Or are you just a concerned book club member."
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Posted: Tue Dec 03, 2013 3:00 pm
Ian gave a snort of laughter that was entirely humorless. "Well that certainly explains it," he said, gesturing towards Rep's pod. "Though I can't say that it's a surprise. I'm sure that's the only reason why someone would let something like that murder happen, because you're in love and clearly that comes before everything, including other people's lives."
Every word dripped with sarcasm, Ian leaning back in his chair and stretching out his legs in front of him. He didn't bother to answer Harrison's question.
"So what, then," he said. "You make a habit of letting your man kill people? Or did you just make an exception for Baron von Flamingo here because he decided to make a little comment about him?"
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Posted: Tue Dec 03, 2013 4:09 pm
"Killing's his job," Harrison said flatly. "Come on. You think he's in trouble over murder you're in for a real ******** surprise. He's paying off his loan shark. This was a cold case of destruction of company property. I didn't want him going into the red any more than you wanted the Baron to reach the end of his common sense ration. But here we ******** are."
With two scared, stained faces in opposite pods.
"You, and him, and me, we're walking dollar signs. Or, not-so-walking."
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Posted: Tue Dec 03, 2013 4:17 pm
There was a clatter as Ian's chair toppled over, Ian standing up abruptly, stalking across the room and the unspoken line between them to stand besides Harrison, his expression furious. "Killing monsters," he hissed, "is his job. Which I suppose," he added, with a sardonic laugh, "means he'd do well considering he's a monster himself. But killing another human being is an entirely different story."
Ian shook his head, a disgusted sneer twisting his lips. "Why are you rationalizing what he's done? Why are you <******** acting like it's just another casualty of war? He didn't kill someone in the line of duty, he killed someone because he got his panties in a twist over a stupid Twitter comment."
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Posted: Tue Dec 03, 2013 5:10 pm
Harrison stayed where he was, but he tensed, in case Ian got any bright ideas about the pod.
"Listen, kid. I don't have a problem with monsters. Or ghosts, or demons, or whatever. There are a lot of good monsters on this island. People's partners, saved my life more times than I can count. They got feelings, families, all that sentimental s**t. But we still get sent out to kill them. Sometimes drag them here. I don't have to act like they're the bad guys to do it either. Or like I'm the hand of ******** righteousness itself. I'm here for me. I do my job."
Not that it was the best job, all considering. He might have been better off with drug dealing. But he did it.
"And let's get this straight. I don't care whether he kills somebody on-duty, or off-duty. It can be kids. Old ladies. Monsters, demons. Hell, he can torture them with a pair of pliers first. When it comes right down to it, in the game of life there's two things that matter. Who survives, and who has the most s**t. Somebody's gotta win, but everybody's gonna lose. I'll do what I have to in the mean time."
Harrison leaned back in his chair.
"In case you're wondering, this was a loss. But we got another day. So, hey. It's not over yet. It's nice outside. It was nice inside until you started reading 'The Assault on Madame du Headache'."
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Posted: Tue Dec 03, 2013 8:22 pm
The "kid" rankled him, since he was relatively certain he was around the same age as Harrison. The scowl on his face deepened. "You," he said in disgust, "are ******** ridiculous. Do you even listen to yourself? Are you even hearing what you're saying?"
He stalked away from Harrison, waving a hand. "Look, I don't give a ******** what you think about your boyfriend, fiance, whatever he is. I don't care whether he's killed before, I don't care whether you think this some ******** game where people win or lose and if you lose oh, well then, guess you're outta luck."
Ian spun around, his expression livid. "I care," he said, "that you apparently think it's ******** okay to kill someone over a ******** comment. Sorry to tell you, but that's not a game of life, that's someone completely ******** up in their head."
His breathing was growing faster, his heart racing, his voice growing louder with each word. He couldn't seem to stop.
"I care," Ian screamed, "that you are sitting in that ******** chair talking about what a <******** nice day it is when someone that I <******** care about is dead because of what some ********> did to him, and you're sitting there like it doesn't ******** matter."
He felt as though he'd run a mile, his chest heaving. Ian took a step back away from Harrison, shaking his head from side to side. "You don't ******** care, do you?" he asked incredulously. "You don't care that someone you care about - someone you obviously love, because otherwise you wouldn't be defending him so blindly - killed someone that actually mattered because you don't think that the person he killed mattered."
He was still shaking his head. "Well, A plus for you," Ian said sarcastically. "Good on you that you've chosen such a swell guy, because clearly you two are meant for each other. Neither one of you cares for life the way others do, so by all means, get married, have babies, do all that fun stuff. Be ******** happy together, for all I care."
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Posted: Wed Dec 04, 2013 8:55 am
Harrison softened up a little at the well-wishes, even if they were drenched in sarcasm.
"Look. All that's true. But I'm sorry we ******** with your s**t, okay. In spite of all that, I'm a live and let live kind of guy. Mostly."
Words were okay. Ian could have all the angry words he wanted. If their situations were reversed, Harrison would have more than words. So, overall, Ian was practically being a gentleman.
"He's not dead. They don't pod dead guys. I'd like the fairy tale ending as much as anyone."
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Posted: Wed Dec 04, 2013 10:33 am
He felt drained. All of the yelling, none of which he had actually meant to do, made his throat feel raw, his head spinning unpleasantly. Ian made his way stiffly back to his chair and sat down, giving a little snort of derision.
"Like hell I'm gonna believe you when you're the one who let him die in the first place," he said, with a roll of his eyes. He leveled a gaze at Harrison, fiery and intense. "And for the record, Shiloh isn't my s**t. He's not s**t at all, ********>
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Posted: Wed Dec 04, 2013 12:25 pm
"I begged both of them," Harrison said. "On my hands and ******** knees. But yeah, it didn't work. And it got them podded, and maybe killed."
Not that he wanted to go into it again. That wasn't any of this guy's business, the collapse of his solitary bastion of trust.
"He's still a s**t," Harrison added, just to be petty.
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Posted: Wed Dec 04, 2013 12:35 pm
Ian remained entirely unconvinced. "Yeah," he said derisively, "because that is totally what it looked like. You obviously batted your lashes at him and he totally melted and listened to you, and this whole ******** mess is all just my fancy schmancy imagination."
He shook his head, running a hand through his hair. The last comment, snarky and unnecessary, jabbed at him like a needle, Ian's expression turning into a full on glower.
He wasn't going to dignify that with a response.
"So what," he said, "You just sit there all smug and s**t because you 'won,' according to your own rules? Well congratulations, I hope having your man friend in a pod for the rest of his life is exactly the prize you wanted."
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