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Jun. 25th, 2007 11:59 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mylodonTitle: Tea Party
Pairing: H/A Regeneration universe
Notes: This is for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ladyhamilton.
I wish I owned these boys but I do not.
“It’s a what?” Horatio rolled his eyes.
“An aardvark. Its called Arthur to be precise.” Ianto smiled knowingly; he wasn’t going to admit it, but he particularly liked the television programme this character featured in.
“I saw a picture of an aardvark in Goldsmith’s History of the Natural World. That thing looks nothing like one. They don’t wear clothes for a start.” Kennedy stared up at the monstrous figure, high above them.
“It’s figurative, rather than literal.” The Doctor had eschewed his William Bush persona in favour of his Time Lord one and had remembered to employ the language associated with it. His fellow lieutenants, for so he always thought of them, hoped he’d remember to reverse the change back on ship. Assuming he decided to come back; Hornblower and Kennedy knew that his work in the war with Napoleon was almost completed and that they might at any point lose their most valued friend.
“And why is it there?” Horatio still did not feel that he’d had adequate explanation.
“It’s providing publicity for something; a company that specialise in making television programmes for children.” Jack sneaked a glance at Ianto and was pleased to see the hint of a blush. “You must be aware of the power both of advertising and the media.”
Horatio nodded sagely – he wasn’t going to demonstrate any ignorance in front of Harkness. He had been rather impressed with Boston so far and this Arthur thing had merely perplexed rather than offended him. It was like the statues of cows that seemed to pop up at every corner, bedecked in garish colours – one of them had even been painted to resemble a frigate – it added somehow to the charm of the place. He liked this city more than Cardiff and much more than London, which was definitely a wen on the face of England.
He had first seen Boston from the water, which William had thought appropriate; they had landed the TARDIS behind some disused buildings in Hingham, just in time to find somewhere to indulge in the strange combination of hollow bread rolls - and fillings that always fell through said holes - that constituted an American breakfast. They had dragged Archie away from the sign on the slipway that expressly proclaimed that there was to be ‘No bottom washing’, as he was making an exhibition of himself beside it with gestures and remarks in Hornblower’s direction. They were in quite a state when they at last located the ferry to take them into the city.
The approach to Boston was spectacular, buildings tinged with gold and rose rising up in the light of a glorious morning. They had disembarked and begun a gentle saunter along the waterfront, Archie like a small boy, taking in all the wonderful sights and almost throwing a tantrum when not allowed to go to the aquarium right now. It had taken Ianto to calm him down, explaining very slowly and patiently that they would be staying several days in the city, that they would make their way to a very nice hotel that evening, while The Doctor returned to the TARDIS, delivered their baggage there yesterday to be collected today, and found a better parking place for the blue box.
There would be ample time to see and do everything – the common, Old Ironsides, the aquarium, the market. The world was their oyster. Kennedy positively squealed at the thought, not least because he realised that Horatio was quite happy here. The thought of seeing the old frigate explained only part of that enthusiasm and he was eager to find out what else had caused him to be so relaxed and contented.
It couldn’t be the sense of freedom – Jack had gone on for ages about the relative liberty that Massachusetts offered compared to the rest of the United States of America – because Horatio didn’t really like the thought of being able to express his affection for Kennedy in public. He said it made them slapdash. It couldn’t be the sight of pastures new as Hornblower usually turned his nose up at them. It couldn’t even be the thought of staying in a modern hotel as he always said that was like sleeping in a stern lantern.
The hotel was certainly pleasing to Kennedy, though. He loved the glass and metal, admired the huge reception area with its light and air, played for ages in the revolving doors and up and down the little escalators and bounced happily on his and Horatio’s double bed.
“You’ll go through the floor if you don’t watch out.” Hornblower had taken a shower – one grudging condescension he did make to the twenty first century was the excellence of its bathing facilities – and was entowelled and dripping on the carpet.
“Not before you flood the place. Go and dry off and get dressed like a civilised human being; I have no intention of letting you seduce me until after I’ve been fed so you might as well cover up that torso of yours.” Archie affected to read the guide to the hotel’s facilities but was prevented by the arrival of a naked, wet lieutenant who seemed to have only two desires in life – making him shut up and kissing him until he couldn’t breathe.
“We have half an hour until we have to be downstairs and Ianto lent us his spare watch so we’ll not be late. Ample time I’d have said.”
“For what? Oh, do you think there might be something on the television; perhaps even featuring that aardvark?” Kennedy reached for the remote control but had it knocked from his hands.
“Don’t play coy with me, sir. I’ve not had a night ashore with you in months and not likely to again for a while, once William returns us to Plymouth. I intend to make every use of this here bed.” He kissed his lover again. “Whether you choose to co-operate or not.”
“Have you ever known me not to cooperate, Horatio?” Archie’s voice had grown deeper, softer – it was his special tone, kept for the couch or other opportune place. “But don’t you think we should shut the blinds or whatever those things are called?”
“Up this high? Only the aeroplanes could see us here and they’re the other side of the building – I checked. Let the light come in Archie – I’m tired of hiding in the dark.”
Kennedy smiled, drew his friend in for another kiss and began at last to realise what appealed to Horatio about this time – not anything to do with holding hands with Archie on the streets or dancing with him in a club, but being able to relax entirely behind closed doors without the worry of someone barging in, seeing what was transpiring between the sheets and running the pair of them up the yardarm. “Then make love to me in the light, Horatio and let me see how exquisite your face is…”
***
The Common was a bit of a disappointment; Horatio and Archie both knew that it would be nothing like the tracts of land they were used to, but they had seen commons in contemporary Britain – even Southsea had one which was a decent enough size – and this was small in comparison. And what Ianto perceptively called a bit touristy. Jack had to persuade them to leave their preconceptions behind and embrace the culture here. Kennedy was helped in this by a large salty pretzel and some lemonade – and a few jokes at Horatio’s expense concerning the mounted police and his friend’s expertise on horseback.
Hornblower had taken a bit more to mollify him; he had liked the statues and shown an unexpected interest in the history of the area but he did not approve of the swan boats, until he saw the absolute delight on the faces of the children who were using them. Their innocent pleasure was reflected in his face; he liked children although it was very unlikely he would have any of his own if the present status quo was maintained – and it made him glad to see the little tykes having fun. As long as they were well behaved and not actually mewling or puking.
The men dawdled around, enjoying the late summer sunshine, then set off to admire the ‘posh shops’ as Ianto called them.
“And what is a ‘Snow emergency’, exactly?” Archie looked up at the sign and could not figure it. He was used by now to seeing all sorts of rules and regulations displayed in regard to where one could or couldn’t leave one’s car, but not even in the wild western wastes of Cardiff had he seen such a prohibition. “And why can’t you park here during one?”
The question lay unanswered as he got yanked away by Hornblower to admire a jacket in the window of a particularly swanky shop. It was only when William had explained the actual price in pounds sterling that he had changed his mind about buying it. Not that he or Archie were hard up; they were making a nice amount of pin money, as Ianto referred to it, by bringing first editions and other artefacts back from their own time and letting Jones sell them off at auction. It gave them a tidy sum in their pockets every time a jaunt was proposed.
“What about this then?” Jack had spotted a poster advertising something called ‘Patience’. “You like the theatre, don’t you, Blondie?”
Archie came and studied the details. “I guess this post dates us – never heard of either of the composers. Is it any good?”
William smiled. “I saw it once in London; the original production, no less. Grossmith was very good; sang beautifully. I think you’ll enjoy the style.” He noticed the distinct look of unease on Horatio’s face. “You’d have preferred Pinafore, but beggars can’t be choosers. Let’s see if we can get some tickets for tonight.” And he sailed off down the road, singing something about becoming the ruler of the Queen’s navee.
One of the marvellous things about visiting the future – or so Archie thought – was that one had traversed a great chasm in time and had then to fill it piecemeal with the knowledge that one acquired. Some of the intervening events had not been revealed to them – quite deliberately so, as it was felt that they would not profit at this point from having all of two hundreds years history to digest – but they picked up bits and bobs about personalities and trends and developments. They knew that George had a granddaughter who had become a long lived and greatly loved queen, during whose reign the empire had expanded, industry had thrived and all sorts of strange things had cropped up, like the aesthetic movement espoused by certain poets.
Archie had read – and read about – both Swinburne and Wilde, Ianto having supplied him with the books on a previous visit. Their stories had moved him enormously and he’d been jolly grateful that he’d been born a hundred years previously, the world’s great advances notwithstanding. He spent all the evening at the theatre wondering which of these two men Bunthorne was supposed to be, while poor Horatio – who could not get his mind around modern day settings of period pieces – struggled to understand why an English Victorian poet was actually attending a twenty-first century American university. Ianto gave up trying to explain, suggesting that he just shut his eyes and enjoy the words.
It was William who had the sudden brainwave. “Horatio,” he remarked in the interval “do you remember that DVD we watched – well, I watched and you walked out in disgust over certain scenes?”
A flare was sent up in Horatio’s befuddled mind. “The one about the poet who got entangled with the ghastly young aristocrat? The one with the man who played me in those films?”
Bush nodded. “The poet was Oscar Wilde and that’s who Bunthorne is probably supposed to be.”
“That,” Horatio sniffed and rolled his eyes, “doesn’t surprise me at all.”
Jack admired the costumes, saying that they reminded him of a little planet ten light years away, although they didn’t possess eight arms as suitable to the aliens he had seen clothed in them. William sang along to all the songs, which ended up in his being nudged by all around him and the evening finished with rapturous applause for all concerned and Horatio as confused as ever. Harkness, whose relationship with the man was at last starting to thaw - mainly because he’d been asked outright if he intended to seduce Kennedy and had said that after fifteen refusals he was giving up – recognised that he needed cheering up and soon.
“Got a real treat for you tomorrow, Horatio. USS Constitution; you wanted to see it? I’ve organised a private viewing – pulled a few strings, used some connections…” his voice trailed off as he saw the boyish look of delight in this stern ship’s commander’s eyes. “I said you were experts on the navy of the time; they’d love to hear your thoughts about authenticity.”
“Then I shall endeavour not to disappoint them. Thank you very much.” He held out his hand for Jack to shake it, the first time he had ever made the gesture. Harkness shook the hand with pleasure and a huge smile and a sense of relief passed thorough all the party.
***
Three days later they sat by the quay, looking out on the bay and admiring the delicate rose colours as the setting sun caught the buildings and caressed them. The air was cooling but still pleasant, the very atmosphere conspiring with the suspiration of the water and the background noises of the city to produce a strange mixture of the natural and manmade that charmed and delighted those who experienced it.
A gentle voice began to waft through the air, crooning about some river that was wider than a mile; it was Jack, Jack who could sing like an angel but rarely bothered. Whether he was serenading Ianto or his friends or just the beautiful evening was never established, but they all listened, transfixed, as did any others in the vicinity. Archie’s head rested on Horatio’s shoulder as the song spoke of two drifters who were off to see the world; it could have been written for them, the words applied on so many levels.
At the end, an old lady who had been bewitched by the angelic voice asked for an encore, but Jack had simply shaken his head and whispered perhaps another time. They had risen, walked silently back to the TARDIS and taken a last look over the city.
“You shan’t be coming back for us for a while, will you?” Something in Jack’s eye suddenly connected in Archie’s brain with subtle messages he’d been picking up over the last few days. It had been like the last time he’d been at home before joining Renown, a definite feeling that this was making the most of time together, just in case. “William’s job is pretty well done back in our time and he has other things to do I suppose?”
Bush nodded his head. “And you two have a lot ahead of you these next few years, as has England. It won’t be easy to come and borrow you for a time.”
“Will you ever come back?” Horatio looked out over Boston, the only place he had really felt at home in this strange modern world.
“We plan to,” Jack shrugged, “but plans can get changed with circumstances. When the time’s right…”
“We’ve been very lucky. I suppose that it becomes untenable in the end, always trying to hide some of the more important things from us.” Kennedy inclined his head in genuine gratitude; he hated goodbyes, even though this one was really an au revoir.
“We shouldn’t really have taken you to see Old Ironsides. Seeing as you’ll be chasing her in a few years time.” William grinned. “But Jack insisted; he knew how much it would mean to Horatio.”
Hornblower smiled, yet shook his head. “All this bother, for us; breaking all the rules…”
“It was our pleasure and will be again.” Jack opened the TARDIS door. “But now you need to get back, as do we.”
They took a final look at the twinkling lights of the city, Boston wearing its night time face; they looked, enjoyed and vowed to remember.
You can download Cap’n Jack singing ‘Moon River’ here: http://www.yousendit.com/download/bWJyMWZBUzgzeUkwTVE9PQ
Pairing: H/A Regeneration universe
Notes: This is for
ladyhamilton.I wish I owned these boys but I do not.
“It’s a what?” Horatio rolled his eyes.
“An aardvark. Its called Arthur to be precise.” Ianto smiled knowingly; he wasn’t going to admit it, but he particularly liked the television programme this character featured in.
“I saw a picture of an aardvark in Goldsmith’s History of the Natural World. That thing looks nothing like one. They don’t wear clothes for a start.” Kennedy stared up at the monstrous figure, high above them.
“It’s figurative, rather than literal.” The Doctor had eschewed his William Bush persona in favour of his Time Lord one and had remembered to employ the language associated with it. His fellow lieutenants, for so he always thought of them, hoped he’d remember to reverse the change back on ship. Assuming he decided to come back; Hornblower and Kennedy knew that his work in the war with Napoleon was almost completed and that they might at any point lose their most valued friend.
“And why is it there?” Horatio still did not feel that he’d had adequate explanation.
“It’s providing publicity for something; a company that specialise in making television programmes for children.” Jack sneaked a glance at Ianto and was pleased to see the hint of a blush. “You must be aware of the power both of advertising and the media.”
Horatio nodded sagely – he wasn’t going to demonstrate any ignorance in front of Harkness. He had been rather impressed with Boston so far and this Arthur thing had merely perplexed rather than offended him. It was like the statues of cows that seemed to pop up at every corner, bedecked in garish colours – one of them had even been painted to resemble a frigate – it added somehow to the charm of the place. He liked this city more than Cardiff and much more than London, which was definitely a wen on the face of England.
He had first seen Boston from the water, which William had thought appropriate; they had landed the TARDIS behind some disused buildings in Hingham, just in time to find somewhere to indulge in the strange combination of hollow bread rolls - and fillings that always fell through said holes - that constituted an American breakfast. They had dragged Archie away from the sign on the slipway that expressly proclaimed that there was to be ‘No bottom washing’, as he was making an exhibition of himself beside it with gestures and remarks in Hornblower’s direction. They were in quite a state when they at last located the ferry to take them into the city.
The approach to Boston was spectacular, buildings tinged with gold and rose rising up in the light of a glorious morning. They had disembarked and begun a gentle saunter along the waterfront, Archie like a small boy, taking in all the wonderful sights and almost throwing a tantrum when not allowed to go to the aquarium right now. It had taken Ianto to calm him down, explaining very slowly and patiently that they would be staying several days in the city, that they would make their way to a very nice hotel that evening, while The Doctor returned to the TARDIS, delivered their baggage there yesterday to be collected today, and found a better parking place for the blue box.
There would be ample time to see and do everything – the common, Old Ironsides, the aquarium, the market. The world was their oyster. Kennedy positively squealed at the thought, not least because he realised that Horatio was quite happy here. The thought of seeing the old frigate explained only part of that enthusiasm and he was eager to find out what else had caused him to be so relaxed and contented.
It couldn’t be the sense of freedom – Jack had gone on for ages about the relative liberty that Massachusetts offered compared to the rest of the United States of America – because Horatio didn’t really like the thought of being able to express his affection for Kennedy in public. He said it made them slapdash. It couldn’t be the sight of pastures new as Hornblower usually turned his nose up at them. It couldn’t even be the thought of staying in a modern hotel as he always said that was like sleeping in a stern lantern.
The hotel was certainly pleasing to Kennedy, though. He loved the glass and metal, admired the huge reception area with its light and air, played for ages in the revolving doors and up and down the little escalators and bounced happily on his and Horatio’s double bed.
“You’ll go through the floor if you don’t watch out.” Hornblower had taken a shower – one grudging condescension he did make to the twenty first century was the excellence of its bathing facilities – and was entowelled and dripping on the carpet.
“Not before you flood the place. Go and dry off and get dressed like a civilised human being; I have no intention of letting you seduce me until after I’ve been fed so you might as well cover up that torso of yours.” Archie affected to read the guide to the hotel’s facilities but was prevented by the arrival of a naked, wet lieutenant who seemed to have only two desires in life – making him shut up and kissing him until he couldn’t breathe.
“We have half an hour until we have to be downstairs and Ianto lent us his spare watch so we’ll not be late. Ample time I’d have said.”
“For what? Oh, do you think there might be something on the television; perhaps even featuring that aardvark?” Kennedy reached for the remote control but had it knocked from his hands.
“Don’t play coy with me, sir. I’ve not had a night ashore with you in months and not likely to again for a while, once William returns us to Plymouth. I intend to make every use of this here bed.” He kissed his lover again. “Whether you choose to co-operate or not.”
“Have you ever known me not to cooperate, Horatio?” Archie’s voice had grown deeper, softer – it was his special tone, kept for the couch or other opportune place. “But don’t you think we should shut the blinds or whatever those things are called?”
“Up this high? Only the aeroplanes could see us here and they’re the other side of the building – I checked. Let the light come in Archie – I’m tired of hiding in the dark.”
Kennedy smiled, drew his friend in for another kiss and began at last to realise what appealed to Horatio about this time – not anything to do with holding hands with Archie on the streets or dancing with him in a club, but being able to relax entirely behind closed doors without the worry of someone barging in, seeing what was transpiring between the sheets and running the pair of them up the yardarm. “Then make love to me in the light, Horatio and let me see how exquisite your face is…”
***
The Common was a bit of a disappointment; Horatio and Archie both knew that it would be nothing like the tracts of land they were used to, but they had seen commons in contemporary Britain – even Southsea had one which was a decent enough size – and this was small in comparison. And what Ianto perceptively called a bit touristy. Jack had to persuade them to leave their preconceptions behind and embrace the culture here. Kennedy was helped in this by a large salty pretzel and some lemonade – and a few jokes at Horatio’s expense concerning the mounted police and his friend’s expertise on horseback.
Hornblower had taken a bit more to mollify him; he had liked the statues and shown an unexpected interest in the history of the area but he did not approve of the swan boats, until he saw the absolute delight on the faces of the children who were using them. Their innocent pleasure was reflected in his face; he liked children although it was very unlikely he would have any of his own if the present status quo was maintained – and it made him glad to see the little tykes having fun. As long as they were well behaved and not actually mewling or puking.
The men dawdled around, enjoying the late summer sunshine, then set off to admire the ‘posh shops’ as Ianto called them.
“And what is a ‘Snow emergency’, exactly?” Archie looked up at the sign and could not figure it. He was used by now to seeing all sorts of rules and regulations displayed in regard to where one could or couldn’t leave one’s car, but not even in the wild western wastes of Cardiff had he seen such a prohibition. “And why can’t you park here during one?”
The question lay unanswered as he got yanked away by Hornblower to admire a jacket in the window of a particularly swanky shop. It was only when William had explained the actual price in pounds sterling that he had changed his mind about buying it. Not that he or Archie were hard up; they were making a nice amount of pin money, as Ianto referred to it, by bringing first editions and other artefacts back from their own time and letting Jones sell them off at auction. It gave them a tidy sum in their pockets every time a jaunt was proposed.
“What about this then?” Jack had spotted a poster advertising something called ‘Patience’. “You like the theatre, don’t you, Blondie?”
Archie came and studied the details. “I guess this post dates us – never heard of either of the composers. Is it any good?”
William smiled. “I saw it once in London; the original production, no less. Grossmith was very good; sang beautifully. I think you’ll enjoy the style.” He noticed the distinct look of unease on Horatio’s face. “You’d have preferred Pinafore, but beggars can’t be choosers. Let’s see if we can get some tickets for tonight.” And he sailed off down the road, singing something about becoming the ruler of the Queen’s navee.
One of the marvellous things about visiting the future – or so Archie thought – was that one had traversed a great chasm in time and had then to fill it piecemeal with the knowledge that one acquired. Some of the intervening events had not been revealed to them – quite deliberately so, as it was felt that they would not profit at this point from having all of two hundreds years history to digest – but they picked up bits and bobs about personalities and trends and developments. They knew that George had a granddaughter who had become a long lived and greatly loved queen, during whose reign the empire had expanded, industry had thrived and all sorts of strange things had cropped up, like the aesthetic movement espoused by certain poets.
Archie had read – and read about – both Swinburne and Wilde, Ianto having supplied him with the books on a previous visit. Their stories had moved him enormously and he’d been jolly grateful that he’d been born a hundred years previously, the world’s great advances notwithstanding. He spent all the evening at the theatre wondering which of these two men Bunthorne was supposed to be, while poor Horatio – who could not get his mind around modern day settings of period pieces – struggled to understand why an English Victorian poet was actually attending a twenty-first century American university. Ianto gave up trying to explain, suggesting that he just shut his eyes and enjoy the words.
It was William who had the sudden brainwave. “Horatio,” he remarked in the interval “do you remember that DVD we watched – well, I watched and you walked out in disgust over certain scenes?”
A flare was sent up in Horatio’s befuddled mind. “The one about the poet who got entangled with the ghastly young aristocrat? The one with the man who played me in those films?”
Bush nodded. “The poet was Oscar Wilde and that’s who Bunthorne is probably supposed to be.”
“That,” Horatio sniffed and rolled his eyes, “doesn’t surprise me at all.”
Jack admired the costumes, saying that they reminded him of a little planet ten light years away, although they didn’t possess eight arms as suitable to the aliens he had seen clothed in them. William sang along to all the songs, which ended up in his being nudged by all around him and the evening finished with rapturous applause for all concerned and Horatio as confused as ever. Harkness, whose relationship with the man was at last starting to thaw - mainly because he’d been asked outright if he intended to seduce Kennedy and had said that after fifteen refusals he was giving up – recognised that he needed cheering up and soon.
“Got a real treat for you tomorrow, Horatio. USS Constitution; you wanted to see it? I’ve organised a private viewing – pulled a few strings, used some connections…” his voice trailed off as he saw the boyish look of delight in this stern ship’s commander’s eyes. “I said you were experts on the navy of the time; they’d love to hear your thoughts about authenticity.”
“Then I shall endeavour not to disappoint them. Thank you very much.” He held out his hand for Jack to shake it, the first time he had ever made the gesture. Harkness shook the hand with pleasure and a huge smile and a sense of relief passed thorough all the party.
***
Three days later they sat by the quay, looking out on the bay and admiring the delicate rose colours as the setting sun caught the buildings and caressed them. The air was cooling but still pleasant, the very atmosphere conspiring with the suspiration of the water and the background noises of the city to produce a strange mixture of the natural and manmade that charmed and delighted those who experienced it.
A gentle voice began to waft through the air, crooning about some river that was wider than a mile; it was Jack, Jack who could sing like an angel but rarely bothered. Whether he was serenading Ianto or his friends or just the beautiful evening was never established, but they all listened, transfixed, as did any others in the vicinity. Archie’s head rested on Horatio’s shoulder as the song spoke of two drifters who were off to see the world; it could have been written for them, the words applied on so many levels.
At the end, an old lady who had been bewitched by the angelic voice asked for an encore, but Jack had simply shaken his head and whispered perhaps another time. They had risen, walked silently back to the TARDIS and taken a last look over the city.
“You shan’t be coming back for us for a while, will you?” Something in Jack’s eye suddenly connected in Archie’s brain with subtle messages he’d been picking up over the last few days. It had been like the last time he’d been at home before joining Renown, a definite feeling that this was making the most of time together, just in case. “William’s job is pretty well done back in our time and he has other things to do I suppose?”
Bush nodded his head. “And you two have a lot ahead of you these next few years, as has England. It won’t be easy to come and borrow you for a time.”
“Will you ever come back?” Horatio looked out over Boston, the only place he had really felt at home in this strange modern world.
“We plan to,” Jack shrugged, “but plans can get changed with circumstances. When the time’s right…”
“We’ve been very lucky. I suppose that it becomes untenable in the end, always trying to hide some of the more important things from us.” Kennedy inclined his head in genuine gratitude; he hated goodbyes, even though this one was really an au revoir.
“We shouldn’t really have taken you to see Old Ironsides. Seeing as you’ll be chasing her in a few years time.” William grinned. “But Jack insisted; he knew how much it would mean to Horatio.”
Hornblower smiled, yet shook his head. “All this bother, for us; breaking all the rules…”
“It was our pleasure and will be again.” Jack opened the TARDIS door. “But now you need to get back, as do we.”
They took a final look at the twinkling lights of the city, Boston wearing its night time face; they looked, enjoyed and vowed to remember.
You can download Cap’n Jack singing ‘Moon River’ here: http://www.yousendit.com/download/bWJyMWZBUzgzeUkwTVE9PQ
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2007-06-26 03:55 am (UTC)And ironically, I love London, so I guess that makes us even. Not that I haven't also loved Winchester and Canterbury and York and Stratford and Wells and Hereford and Shrewsbury (well, not so much Shrewsbury, as I set my hair on fire there and it kind of colored the experience) and Salisbury...but I do love London. *grin*
Glad to hear Horatio enjoyed himself. Be sure to bring him with you next time you come to visit as well, will you? *double grin*
(no subject)
Date: 2007-06-26 09:26 pm (UTC)But yes, I hope that 'The Chief' lets us get back to Boston in 2008. I will try to fit HH in my case but he does tend to winge a bit about being left in the hold.
And perhaps you will get back to Winchester sometime and we could go eat pasties together?