Two People Talking...

"Master Avon -?"

"Jeeves."

"Are we to assume that... this is what you intend to wear to the Revolutionary Celebrations?"

{short silence}

"It suffices."

"That is... a novel way of putting it, one must concede."

"In that -?"

"It cannot be denied that black leather is... slimming... and does enable one to blend into the background, especially given such a colourful array of personalities who will be sharing this occasion with you. One is assuming, of course, that you are graciously allowing said personalities to take precedence -"

"If they do, I can shoot them."

"Indeed you can, sir. However, be that as it may... the studs, sir."

"The studs stay."

{longer silence... and a gentle, sheepish cough}

"I suggest you focus on making Blake and Tarrant look rather less insurrectionary - or criminal, political or otherwise - and more civilised than they seem to think necessary. And even you can give up on making Vila look like anything other than a Delta with a Gamma's credit rating... probably stolen."

"Possibly, sir, and I do admit there are certain... obstacles in ensuring that the new President's staff -"

"And the new President, god help the galaxy - "

"- Obstacles in ensuring an elegant turnout, but I have grounds for believing that the President will heed my warnings about that rather less than flattering shade of green, and accept an outfit more suited to his newly august position in -"

"You think Blake will listen to you?"

"I have reason to hope, sir."

"You have a delusion, Jeeves."

"That is less than kind, if I may say so... in any event, I believe that Mistress Soolin - a most charming lady, who is more willing to take my advice on the particular appeal of grey - Mistress Soolin has found another use for the green outfit."

"Well now... what?"

"Cleaning her weaponry, sir."

"And Tarrant?"

"Ahh, I'm fear that the new Chief Officer of Space Command still shows a lamentable craving for fringe and lacings..."

"He is still playing at being a space pirate, you mean. Young, strong, handsome, and blissfully bereft of intelligence... it suited him."

"I really could not say, sir. In any case, Mistress Dayna seems to have suggested -" {a pause, a delicate shudder} - matching outfits, in green and orange. However, it appears that the garments - in fact, most of their wardrobe - unaccountably disintegrated. In the pulse-laundry, sir."

"You surprise me."

"And the Chief Officer will be compelled to make do with what humble offerings I and Slave can put together - a nice, quiet blue, I think."

"Do you."

"Oh yes, sir."

"And Vila?"

"The new Master of the President's Household is rather fond of... yellow, sad to say."

"Or gold."

{pause and simultaneous shudder}

"Gold. Quite so, sir."

"Let the fool wear what he wants, at least if any disaffected try to kill Blake, the others will make more showy targets."

"Unfortunate, but true, sir. However -"

"I am not be dictated to, Jeeves."

"Far be it from me, sir."

"Black."

"Of course sir."

"Leather."

"If you insist, sir."

"Studs."

"Very... good, sir."

{silence}

{longer silence}

{much longer silence}

"Perhaps a nice restrained charcoal, sir...?"

-the end-

(Written for a dialogue challenge)