Red Devil part 7
Nov. 21st, 2011 04:54 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mylodonUsual disclaimers apply. H/A AU
Most of Saturday passed in the sort of daze which only comes from your body waking you at three in the morning and asking why you’re not up, as it reckons it’s eight and you’ve had a lie in. Horatio had prevaricated for as long as he could before boredom had forced him out of bed, into the shower, inside some clothes and down to the hotel coffee shop, which at least catered for those who kept strange hours.
He’d got back on the underground, explored the city, bought some souvenirs for his father and sister, ticked off some of the tourist destinations. All of it with a gaping hole being gnawed inside him. He’d anticipated being on his own, but he was a self sufficient man, so what was new about that? Why, since the previous evening, did he feel so utterly forlorn?
The unexpected ringing of his phone – to hell with his boss’s instructions about laptops and blackberries – made him jump. It had to be the office. There had to be a flap on and only he could advise them on it. With a mixture of smugness and exasperation he pulled the thing out of his pocket, but the incoming number wasn’t one either he or the phone recognised.
“Hello?”
“Morning!” Archie’s cultured tones resounded down the line. “Enjoying yourself?”
“Apart from the fact it feels like bedtime, yes,” Horatio lied. “Everything alright with tomorrow?”
“Absolutely. No, this isn’t the ‘changed my mind’ phone call. I was at a loose end and wondered whether you’d like to go and see Ironsides.”
“Ironsides?” The name meant nothing, apart from memories of some old television series his father still watched on ITV 3. “I’m not sure I follow you.”
“It’s a ship—a frigate. The Constitution. Part of our history.”
“Is that our as in American?” Horatio grinned. Archie was easy to tease, even for someone who wasn’t exactly adept at the art.
“Cheeky bugger. No it isn’t. Part of British history seeing as it spent a lot of time beating the crap out of our fine ships and even finer sailors. Shall I meet you there?” Archie was as bold himself as a sailor on shore leave, as forward today as he’d been at the Aquarium.
“If I can find it, then yes. In an hour?” Horatio’s map had proved reliable so far – he shouldn’t have to do anything awful like ask anyone the way.
“Excellent. I could use the company.” The line went dead, cut off through loss of signal or simply Archie’s decisive manner, who could tell. Use the company? He’d not seemed the sort of guy who’d ever be at a loss for a companion.
Still, Horatio wasn’t complaining; suddenly the day had got a whole lot brighter.
Most of Saturday passed in the sort of daze which only comes from your body waking you at three in the morning and asking why you’re not up, as it reckons it’s eight and you’ve had a lie in. Horatio had prevaricated for as long as he could before boredom had forced him out of bed, into the shower, inside some clothes and down to the hotel coffee shop, which at least catered for those who kept strange hours.
He’d got back on the underground, explored the city, bought some souvenirs for his father and sister, ticked off some of the tourist destinations. All of it with a gaping hole being gnawed inside him. He’d anticipated being on his own, but he was a self sufficient man, so what was new about that? Why, since the previous evening, did he feel so utterly forlorn?
The unexpected ringing of his phone – to hell with his boss’s instructions about laptops and blackberries – made him jump. It had to be the office. There had to be a flap on and only he could advise them on it. With a mixture of smugness and exasperation he pulled the thing out of his pocket, but the incoming number wasn’t one either he or the phone recognised.
“Hello?”
“Morning!” Archie’s cultured tones resounded down the line. “Enjoying yourself?”
“Apart from the fact it feels like bedtime, yes,” Horatio lied. “Everything alright with tomorrow?”
“Absolutely. No, this isn’t the ‘changed my mind’ phone call. I was at a loose end and wondered whether you’d like to go and see Ironsides.”
“Ironsides?” The name meant nothing, apart from memories of some old television series his father still watched on ITV 3. “I’m not sure I follow you.”
“It’s a ship—a frigate. The Constitution. Part of our history.”
“Is that our as in American?” Horatio grinned. Archie was easy to tease, even for someone who wasn’t exactly adept at the art.
“Cheeky bugger. No it isn’t. Part of British history seeing as it spent a lot of time beating the crap out of our fine ships and even finer sailors. Shall I meet you there?” Archie was as bold himself as a sailor on shore leave, as forward today as he’d been at the Aquarium.
“If I can find it, then yes. In an hour?” Horatio’s map had proved reliable so far – he shouldn’t have to do anything awful like ask anyone the way.
“Excellent. I could use the company.” The line went dead, cut off through loss of signal or simply Archie’s decisive manner, who could tell. Use the company? He’d not seemed the sort of guy who’d ever be at a loss for a companion.
Still, Horatio wasn’t complaining; suddenly the day had got a whole lot brighter.
