airbaths | 。

[ Typical man. He might as well give up now. But, it has been quite a while that Q's had a conversation that didn't involve yelling and explosions.

She nods and leans on the counter as the water boils. Her hands support her on the counter top. ]

Quid, for example.

[ Ahh, yes. Lancelot smiles a little more, pocketing one screw as it comes free and swapping hands to brace the shelf and work out the other. ]

As in quid pro quo?

[ He glances sideways at her, letting his amusement show, then shakes his head a little as he eases the shelf off the wall and pockets the other screw. ]

I do not doubt you know more about it than I do, I simply find it interesting.

[ She smiles a little brighter with eyebrows raised, honestly impressed. It's not everyday you can find someone else to know little facts like that.

Q crosses her arms and ankles. ]

I actually know only very basic things about language. Computers are my expertise.

[ She did have someone compare her work with computers to art once. Perhaps that would be a better word for it. Sounds awfully pretentious... ]

Computers have their own language too, do they not? It may not be spoken, but it is written.

[ He runs a hand over the wall examining the screw holes thoughtfully before making a decision and moving to set the shelf a little more out of the way. ]

What is it you do, if you don't mind?

[ 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.

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. ]

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?

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.

[ 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. ]

[ 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. ]

[ 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?

[ 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.

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. ]

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.

[ 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?

[ 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?

[ 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?

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.

[ 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.

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. ]

[ 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?

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.

[ 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?

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. ]

[ 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.

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