♠ | 002 | Video

[lastrat]

[Much different from the man who posed skepticism and disbelief a few days ago, Bond is now smiling. He looks at ease, and for once like he isn't constantly on guard. It erases some lines from his face, makes him look a little younger, a little lighter.]

I never was much for Christmas, you know. Can't understand why now. It's nice, isn't it? The coming together, the gaiety of it all. I think I've been rather rude since I got here, and I'd like to apologize to you all. I'm sure you've only been trying to help, and I ought to have been more receiving. That's what this season's all about, isn't it? Setting aside your disbelief and believing in miracles.

[Another warm smile, and he nods.] I think I like that.

[Private to the Admiral]

[This list will be angrily replaced later, but for now, happiness and good will towards man and all that.]

Haven't written one of these since I was a boy, but if you insist:

For Ivy, a beautiful dress. Green, naturally. With a leaf motif, since she seems so fond. For Castiel - I think he could use a halo, don't you? For Lark - Mm. I'm not very good at this. Aftershave, or cologne, something expensive that he'll enjoy.

And for Vesper-- [He trails off, thinking hard.] A necklace, I think. With a key on it. [A pause, then a smile. Yes, that'll do nicely.]

[Spam for Vesper]

[When he ended the post, he realized he was just sitting here alone, with Vesper only next door. Why shouldn't he believe miracles? She was dead, and now she was alive. And he'd attacked her. James hung his head for a moment, and reached into his jacket pocket, where he could turn her Algerian love knot over in his hand. This was stupid; he ought to apologize. He ought to go and enjoy her company. He ought to let her soothe the ache in his chest. Why shouldn't he?

So a moment later, he was at her door, knuckles tapping against the wood quickly.]

Comments

[Video]

[lastrat]

Really? I wouldn't mind a drink.

[Video]

[silvestris]

No one showed you the open bar?

[Video]

[lastrat]

I'd read it was locked. [And damn is he hopeful now.]

[Video]

[silvestris]

Not if you know the right people. What do you drink?

[Video]

[lastrat]

Scotch. Macallan, if it's available.

[Video]

[silvestris]

Pretty sure this is bourbon...you want?

[Video]

[lastrat]

I'll take it. Where should I meet you?

[Video]

[silvestris]

Cabin 207.

[Video] spam?

[lastrat]

I'll be up shortly. [Too quick and he'll look too eager, too slow and he'll appear uninterested. Bond's got a perfect balance down, and heads up to knock at her door a few minutes later.]

Spam!

[silvestris]

[She's sort of tidied up her trashed, hideous apartment. But it's still got lights spelling 'Hell Here', still has black spray paint in random stripes on the walls, still has broken windows and decapitated toys.

Fortunately Selina looks very calm and sane when she answers the door.]

Come on in.

Spam!

[lastrat]

[Well thank God for some sanity, at least. He spares a small smile for her first, before glancing around the apartment be hind her.]

Quite the sense of style you have.

[Why are there decapitated toys. WHY. He nods toward the sign.] Personal motto?

[silvestris]

[She smiles, a little sly, a little self-conscious.] It's a good way to silence the inner child. Noisy little bitch that she is.

[She offers him the alcohol, then, and a glass--one of the few that survived her rampage a month ago.]

[lastrat]

[He takes both with a smile, and arched eyebrows.] They do have a way of coming out when you least want them to. You're not drinking?

[silvestris]

[She smiles and gets a glass for herself.] Well, I didn't know how thirsty my guest would be.

[lastrat]

Never too thirsty to deprive my host. [That's a lie, he could drink it all on his own, but that wouldn't be very gentlemanly. He pours into his cup, then holds it out for her to trade the empty for the filled.]

[silvestris]

Thank you. [She smiles at him, head slightly ducked; it's one of her more honest, vaguely shy expressions. Which of course she feels compelled to make up for.] I have a feeling you'll get along here. Any Warden lined up to tell you what floors to scrub, yet?

[lastrat]

No, not exactly. [Vesper is a warden, but not his warden, and that seems like it would be terribly, terribly damaging in the long run. He smirks.]

I hope, when I do, they'll realizing that floor scrubbing isn't one of my talents.

[silvestris]

I hope so, too, we have too many domestic types around as it is. [She sips her drink, watching him over the rim all the while] What are your talents?

[lastrat]

[He can't quite help but smirk over his glass, once he's poured his own share.] I take it you aren't one, then.

[Shrugging - he always hated his covers, and he certainly doesn't think it's necessary here, now - he looks around her room again, wandering a few feet in.] Many and varied. Yours?

[silvestris]

[She returns the smirk; no, domesticity is not something she strives for.]

The same. The best thing to be is everything.

What's your opinion on this exciting new approach to rehabilitation?

[lastrat]

Exciting, [he drawls, and takes another sip.] That's one way to put it. Let's just say I have my doubts.

[silvestris]

Well, one thing we do know: it's going to be a hell of a ride.

Has anyone told you who the problem children are?

[lastrat]

Not in so many words. Don't suppose you have a list worth looking at?

[silvestris]

I do. But Ladd Russo is top of the list. Apparently he'll have it out for anyone hard to kill.

There's a few more; ask Bruce Wayne for details, he keeps more extensive tabs than I do.

[lastrat]

Bruce Wayne. [Like. Batman? But he remembers what Ivy said - he's the subject of novels and movies - and keeps that to himself, instead nodding, like he repeated it to memorize it.] I'll speak with him. And keep Russo in mind.