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Between Christmas and New Year

I know I haven't made that many friends among the staff here. Most of them're siding with Percival with his nose still out of joint about my getting what he'd already thought of as his job, and the rest're wary of my having known the Colonel - his Lordship - in the past. And between the Army and the places I've worked, most of them seem pretty la-di-da for servants, like they think they're better than me.

Feels like the only person've had a sensible conversation with's the kennelman, so one night I take my bottle of beer, and a couple more I bought in the village, and go out to see if I can find him. He reminds me of men I served with - no nonsense sorts, rough round the edges but not thinking themselves better than they are just cos they work for someone with a title.

Open to Gaueko
GAH, sorry folks, in the medical drama of the past few days I missed that it was my tag in crack. >.< On it now.
Al's apartment, a few days later

Spending more of my time here, now. Much of it as I can, really.

Still have to be careful, of course. Think Al's got some kind of plan in place to tidy away any evidence of our previous deal; figure I'm better off not knowing the details.

But we've been able to get up together in the mornings, mostly, and I'm here when he comes back from work - which seems to be getting earlier, these past days. And it's - easy. More absurdly domestic than I'd've thought possibly, when he straightens my tie under my chin with a slight frown for my scruffiness, or I take his jacket and kiss him as he comes in the door. Almost frightening how fast it's starting to feel normal, him and me, here. Not sure I realised how I've missed living with someone, since Syl. Knowing it'll last, god willing. Knowing that I'm home.

[Open to Al]


Late March 1953

It's one of those perfect early spring days, the sky that bright light blue and warmth in the sun at last. March is definitely going out like a lamb this year, and we have the window in the train compartment open, letting in the smell of the country.

It's so queer to be making this familiar journey with Al. I've been pointing things out through the window as we get close - the ruins of the castle, the chalk carving on the hillside, the field where they found the Roman villa last summer, still patterned with string fences. But I'm starting to feel a little nervous now, because - well. Al and my parents. And my house is hardly like his house, is it?

We're alone in the carriage, sitting next to each other, and I put my hand briefly on his knee to reassure myself.

[Open to Al]

Fall of the Toltecs

"Now on the inside of Toltec society, Tezcatlipoca used His sorcery to trick the idle Toltecs. He played a mystical drum which mesmerized those who heard it and caused them to dance so wildly that they eventually threw themselves off of a cliff."

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“We are not drunk at all. We're completely sober. We have no idea what you people are talking about you freaks. That was Jack I think that Jack might be slightly drunk but I'm completely sober as you can tell from my dossit(?) English tone. Did we have else to say. ___ ass is perfect gonna tell you the otherwise. Ok I derry wanted to get in touch but perhaps we see you later but for now I think I'm gonna hang up and see if that ___ recorded. Ok. Bye bye.”

Auto-Transcribed Voice Post - spoken through SpinVox
Can't get used to this at all. It's the weirdest fucking thing.

When I saw the kid first, in the hospital (and ignoring Thiess' present for all I was worth), I didn't feel any great rush of paternal feeling. It was a weird color and slimy and its head was the wrong shape, and they still expected me to hold it. Freaked me the fuck out.

And yet...keep finding myself calling her up, asking if it's okay for me to come over. Buying stupid crap for the kid. Getting used to holding her, too - amazing how much heavier a baby is than it looks - though it still makes me nervous. What if I break her or something? Danika doesn't seem to be worried about that, though. She's tired, but she looks happy. I stay over, sometimes - sleeping on the couch - to try and give her a break.

But there's always the knowledge that I'm going to leave, underneath it. Every time I hold the kid, I feel subtly guilty. Jesus. Every time Danika smiles while I talk to her in Spanish and call her Brígida rather than Brigit. I know Danika's going to be a good mother, and fucking Thiess seems to be settling right in, but...hell. She's mine. Once I leave with Al, am I even going to see her again? There's times I catch myself wondering, just a bit, what would've happened if me and Danika'd got hitched after all.

Not saying I'd go back. Not saying I'd change my mind. But it's bitter, sometimes.

[Open to Al]