sixwordstories | (no subject)

Got a light?

[Strange accent.]

Yeah. Yeah, course mate, yeah.

[He sets his cigarette between his lips and pulls out a nice lighter, bringing up the flame.

Thank you.
[Cigarette tapped out, one quickly lit. Long inhale held. This was a treat a bribe to get him though, well whatever he had been doing.

Haven't noticed you here abouts.
[American...no, notes were all mixed up, a university man.]

No harm trying new things. [Read: He's on the outs right now, had to find new places to haunt.]

None at all.

[Leans against the wall of the brownstone he just exited, a brass plate on the door for a doctor.]

Are you waiting for someone?

Nah. Loitering. Too early to go home, an' all that.

Ah. Was just going to say that there's nobody to wait for.

Pub's around the corner though. That's where I'm headed. A pint for a light?

Guess there isn't, is there? A pint'd be lovely. Thank you.

I'm Teddy. By the way.

Egan. [It wasn't exactly, but it was close enough.]

[Pushed upright, drawing himself to his full height.] Nice to meet you Teddy.

Yeah, you too.

[He puts out his cigarette, shoves both hands into his pocket.]

[A drag was followed by a flick of ash. Collar flipped up to ward against rain, a drip from an overhand, or a stray breeze. Down the few steps, Egan turned south towards the river, still enjoying a minor social disobedience, not to mention a hampering of tomorrow's run.]

You look a little young to have a missus and a set of youngsters. [Going back to the comment on the loitering and not wishing to go home.]

[Teddy follows. He's good at that.]

Nah. I've got ... I haven't really got anything.

And that is the other reason not to go home.

[Lazy long legged stride is happy to lead, or at least walk along side.]

One I sympathize with.

Oh? Seems a shame, nice man like you, having nothing to go home to.

[Nearly came to an abrupt standstill, but made himself continue moving. It was easier to increase speed when already walking, if needed.]

And you wouldn't be standing outside a certain door because Irene sent you. Would you?

[The wary question sounded curious, but it wasn't. It was bound to come to a head sooner or later if he kept turning down her 'invitations' to assist at her 'playhouse'.]

Who the fuck is Irene?

My sister.

[Snorted a laugh. There it was again, Irene and fuck in the same sentence - when weren't they?]

And the sole reason I enjoy having an empty house.

I ain't ever had a sister.

She plant people around for you a lot?

Plant? No.
Make arrangements with to abscond with me? Yes.

[Crossing the street, the main thoroughfare was just ahead.]

Her way of making sure that I haven't forgotten her. Absolutely.

I guess maybe I should be flattered.

[Teddy's not all that tall. He has to walk a bit quicker to keep pace.]

[Anyone who meets Irene never forgets her, she gets under the skin. Even in the most guarded of faces her name elicits cues of confidences held, how delicious she looks, the feel of a whip across their flesh, looking forward to the next encounter. Male or female, Irene gets her toys in, getting them off, and blackmailing secrets out.]

[A side glance, and he slows, the spark of anger and...not fear - trepidation? cooling.] Some are.

What line of work are you in? [offering a do-over]

I'm a member of a firm, of sorts. My bosses own clubs. I sort of just help around the edges.

I see.

[At least he saw what happened around the edges of Irene's clubs. Ugly things even when said so nicely. And perhaps he was seeing things here that simply did not exist. Too jaded in that regard to believe that there could be some innocence and, solely based on his own experiences, didn't pursue the vague answer...his own answer there would have been just as shadowy. How do you come out and say in polite society, that?]

[Answered the question before it was asked]

I'm a counselor.

[He was. Said so on his door, along with a few other fancy words.]