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[airbath]

retired old catch-all post
nsfw warning
please do not post any more prompts here

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[decompile]

[ He certainly is trying hard applying romanticism to computers. Does he think this is a porn setting? Handsome Handyman Teaches Nerd Hot Loving?

Still, she has to give him credit for seeming legitimately interested. After a quick glance at his physique, she answers. ]

IT under government contracts. Yes, I know, very thrilling.

[knightscode]

Would you say painting and decorating was more exciting?

[ He turns back to her, tilts his head a little and flicks a faint smile. ]

When you were a child, what is it you wished to be? When you 'grew up'.

[ Lance considers her a moment, turns back to the wall and reaches for a tool to drag the plugs from the wall. ]

I always wanted to be a knight. To fight for honour, justice, freedom and love. Of course, knights do not exist any more.

[ He shrugs a little, smile turning a little rueful for a second as he works one free. ]

[decompile]

You certainly get to talk to a load of lonely housewives.

[ It's her cheeky little way of letting him know she's onto that sort of game. Especially the talk of knights. He can't be serious.

Yet... She finds herself unable to really question his body language or the sincerity in his tone. She supposes everyone has ridiculous childhood dreams. Q allows her arms to unfold to prop herself against the counter. ]

I wanted to be a ballerina at one point. You see how far that got me.

[ Knights, knights... Why does that stick out in her mind in relationship to this man? She turns as the kettle whistles and prepares their tea. Q calls from over her shoulder, ]

How do you take it?

[knightscode]

Ah -- a little milk, no sugar please.

[ He tugs the wall plug out, drops it and dusts himself down a little before starting work on the other. ]

Did you ever take a class in ballet? I took a few fencing classes, but... it wasn't quite the same.

[decompile]

[ Easy enough to please. Her own tea soon finished, she brings it to the edge of the kitchen. Q makes sure to keep out of the way until there's no more flying wood. ]

You couldn't wear armor, for a start.

[ Which is not mocking, honestly. She has a similar experience of being disappointment when she was younger. ]

Yes... I suppose you could say I didn't have the talent for it.

[ And out her hand goes with his tea, polite smile to follow it. ]

[knightscode]

[ He drops his tools again once the last plug is free of the wall, dusts himself down a second time as she answers and offers a rueful smile as he steps over to take the tea. ]

I suppose we are both stuck as we are, then. Do you like it? Your job.

[ If she likes it then he supposes it doesn't matter, after all. ]

[decompile]

[ Once his is out of her hands, she can begin to drink her own.


He's awfully chatty, this one. Q supposes it could be worse. He hasn't made any obvious passes. He hasn't been rude. Actually, he's been very lovely so far. ]

I love my job. [ She says with a brighter smile than any before. ] I wake up every morning exhausted and happy.

[ A pause for a sip. ]

And you?

[knightscode]

[ Lance shrugs a little, sipping his own tea as he considers this. ]

It pays the bills, and I like the variety in it. I get to meet a lot of people, see a lot of places. That's good enough for now, I think.

[decompile]

But it's not what you love to do.

[ Half an observation and half a question. Oh, why not. He's definitely handsome and charming. She's had little exposure to simple small talk as of late.

Another sip to her own tea as he responds. ]

[knightscode]

No.

[ He drops his eyes a moment, staring into his tea before he looks up again to clarify. ]

I don't know what I want. I envy people who do, if I'm honest.

[decompile]

[ She has to admit, he's good. She's already feeling rather sorry for him. His sincerity seems real enough. Q will give him that.

And a small apologetic smile. ]

Do you have anything to go on other than sword fighting and rescuing damsels?

[knightscode]

[ Lance lets out a soft huff of laughter at that, meets her apologetic smile with a warm one and shrugs a little. ]

Not at all. If I did, it would be easier -- but, it seems I have yet to find my inspiration. Perhaps fate still has something in store for me, just not now.

[ He sets aside his tea carefully, picks up the poly-filler and examines the screw holes carefully before setting to work. ]

Do you have the day off, then?

[decompile]

[ Careful, Catherine... You may end up losing focus. Goodness knows you don't need to have some fun every now and again.

She toasts her tea to his good luck before her next sip. She makes sure to keep out of the way, but definitely not retreating. ]

Yes, actually. Should I leave you to it?

[knightscode]

No no, it's fine. I enjoy the company, better than having a radio on.

[ He scrapes the excess smooth and sets aside the paste, grabs up a screwdriver to lever open a can of paint. ]

Although if you have things to be doing, please, don't let me keep you. I imagine watching someone paint is not much better than watching it dry.

[decompile]

[ Not when the one painting it looks like you. He certainly is easy on the eyes.

She finishes up her tea. ]

No, actually. I keep too busy to have much company myself. We're very thrilling, aren't we?

[ She pauses. ]

Unless you have a thrilling night job helping grass grow.

[knightscode]

Actually that's my how I spend my days off.

[ He jerks an eyebrow at her, flicks a playful smile as he tips a little paint into the roller's tray and catches the excess before it drips. ]

[decompile]

[ She actually laughs. It's more of a quiet giggle, really, but that most definitely counts. More than she's laughed in ages.

She's got a more important question for him. Not that she's considering to be that answer. It's looking less and less ridiculous. Besides, no one said the dreaded four letter word yet. ]

Nothing else to occupy your time with?

[knightscode]

Grass takes a lot of tending, you know, and I have to sing to it at least once a day.

[ He pauses in the act of rolling paint onto the wall, covering sickly green with a nice neutral cream. ]

... That was a joke, by the way. I don't sing to my grass.

[ Lance moves to carry on, expression perfectly schooled. ]

Just the house plants.

[ Is this also a joke? It is a mystery. It could equally be true. ]

I do T'ai Chi twice a week, but I'm afraid that's as much excitement as I get.

[decompile]

[ He is very good. Managed to get her to laugh and to laugh again. She might almost be relaxed. It's very hard not to trust him. Some part of her espionage training, along with generally not always perfect results with men, is telling her not to.

Q gives a sympathetic nod. ]

The gym, for me. Not much else. A job full of computers to come home to... More computers.

[ At least the second half is play rather than work. But, speaking of, her phone starts to go off. M's calling and she lets out a quiet sigh at it. ]

Speaking of, excuse me, would you?

[knightscode]

Of course, please go ahead.

[ He quirks a smile, turns his eyes back to the wall and focuses on keeping the paint even.

Lance might start humming under his breath after a few seconds or so. Without a radio or someone to talk to it's sort of habit. ]

[decompile]

[ A few yes sirs and one held back sigh later and Q has been called to duty. At least this seems to be a minor problem. Why it's not a minor problem the perfectly capable Quartermaster team can handle, she does not know.

She returns to him. ]

I'm afraid I'll have to let you have all the fun. Duty calls. [ And now have a bright and sincere smile. ] It was a pleasure, Mr. Dulac.

[knightscode]

The pleasure was all mine. I hope we cross paths again.

[ There's still quite a bit of painting to do, after all, and -- well. He would quite like to see her again. If nothing else, just to enjoy her company.

He is not, exactly, a complicated man. Company is something he craves, in whatever form he can get it. Company and perhaps a little romance.

Lance grew up wanting to be a knight, after all. Anyone who didn't expect him to be romantic was deluding themselves. ]

[decompile]

Hopefully.

[ Another polite smile and even she is not sure how sincere that hope is. It is not easy to get under her skin. Lancelot has at least sparked an interest.

Well, there is more painting to be done. More chance meetings early in the morning. She can't say the company will be terrible. Unfortunately, it has to be called short for now. She leaves him to his work for her own. Perhaps it was fate... Q had started to let some of her romantic guard down. ]

[knightscode]

[ And that's the end of it.

Or at least, it seems that way.

Lance doesn't cross paths with her again for the rest of the job. He thinks about leaving her a note with his personal e-mail address, or asking her to keep his number and ring him some time, but it feels... inappropriate. Lacking in professionalism, considering how little they actually spoke, so he doesn't. Just tidies up neatly after himself and sends her an invoice.

He doesn't forget about it, though. The frustrating part is that he knows, from her own words, that she doesn't go out much. There's so little chance he might --

Lance pauses, chilled coffee half raised as he spots her further up the street. He pushes up his sunglasses, squints to be sure, then hopes nobody notices as he unsubtly elbows past other people and jogs toward her -- slowing in an attempt at nonchalance as he gets closer and intercepting her neatly. He offers her his best smile. ]

Hi.

[ ... Right. Perhaps he should have planned past this. The realisation shows for a moment on his face as he fumbles for something else to say. ]

I saw you, from down the street -- not... that I was watching you I just happened to and... I was surprised, I thought I might not see you again. Well, unless... you needed some more decorating done I suppose.

[ Stop. Talking. He takes a breath awkwardly and fidgets with his cup. ]

[decompile]

[ Needless to say, Q had expected to never run into the man again. Job complete, he had no real reason to contact her again. Their casual conversation hadn't ventured as far into flirting. Q wouldn't allow it. She's not entirely sure how ready she is to attempt another juggle of relationship and career.

Shame, however. Lancelot was at least very good looking and funny.

She probably looks a mess. Wavy curls a bit greasy at the roots from a long night, fingers obviously run through a curl here and there; eyes tired; clothes clean but wrinkled from the day. Hardly how one would want to be found.

But there he is. Finding her once more. Q blinks in surprise. She's not entirely sure how to take this. Yet, she finds herself smiling. ]

On your way to sing to your grass, Mr Dulac?