Warning! (ooh, dramatic :D) If you are still gamely trawling through the long waffle on LJ, this is a bit spoilery xxx
"O J for the handsome gentleman.." Christian slid the glass across the table top to Syed. "…And a pint of Old Filthy for me!" He slipped into his seat, and took an appreciative sip of the dark beer.
"That looks vile.." Syed eyed the pint suspiciously, and Christian grimaced.
"It does taste pretty funky.." He admitted. "..This place is awesome, speciality ales AND cocktails, something for everyone. Plus you got us a great place to sit!"
Syed tipped his chair back, and leant his head against the brick wall of the alcove.
"I got lucky, I did some intense hovering until a bunch of people left, it's thinning out a bit in here.. Is it us?"
Grinning, Christian took another hesitant taste of his beer.
"They probably know Sam's coming.."
Another group, at the far end of the bar, began to gather up their coats and bags, as if on cue, and made their way, chattering brightly, towards the exit.
"..See! They heard me!" Christian chuckled.
Syed narrowed his eyes, and peered towards the dark corner that had been revealed by the departing crowd.
"Hang on, is that who I think it is?" He pointed to the still figure, staring intently at a drinks menu.
"Where?.."
Following the line of Syed's finger, Christian spotted the man, hair flopped down over his glasses, seemingly completely absorbed by the card in his hand.
"Blimey, so it is! Is that still going on then? He must have the patience of a saint. What's Michael said to you about it?" Christian's curiosity began to get the better of him, and he felt gossipy and nosy.
Syed shook his head dismissively.
"Only what you know, that Rory came to find him when he went mental, and to thank me for pointing him in the right direction. We're all always so busy, I've not had a chance to talk to him properly.. I'm surprised though, that Rory did anything about it, he seemed so indifferent when we last saw him. This isn't going to be an embracing coincidence is it? What reply did Michael send to your text?"
"Ooh! Do you think there'll be a scene? He wasn't indifferent, the man's an iceberg, it's all going on underneath.. Michael put 'Fabbo!' with a smiley face and a lot of kisses.."
Bridling, Syed pouted at his orange juice.
"Did he now.."
"Ha ha, jealous! Though I'm not entirely sure who of. At least you haven't started fretting about whether or not Rory will like it here. And before you do, I'd say he likes doing Michael.."
Syed giggled, and prodded at an ice cube in his glass.
"That could be interesting then. Do we all have to watch, and give them marks out of ten?" He asked.
"I daresay Michael would get an eleven, he's had a lot of practice.." Christian mused, and the half smile on his face made Syed huffy again. He flicked juice towards him.
"Oi! Have you been giving it some thought?"
"No, you twat. I was thinking you'd get a hundred out of ten."
Appeased, Syed wiped a drop of liquid from Christian's cheek, and licked it from his finger.
"Remind me to check those accounts you did. Should we ask him over? I mean, what if he's stalking Michael? A spurned lover?"
" Ha ha! Stalking, fnarr. I'd think it was more likely to be the other way round.. Anyway, we can't leave the poor sod standing there on his own. Who knows, maybe he's managed to keep Michael interested, perhaps it's the real thing? Rory!"
Christian bellowed across the bar, and Rory glanced in their direction, bemused, and looking as if he'd been woken from a coma into an alien world.
Syed tried to stop the tiny, proprietary, sensation of disgruntlement, at Rory possibly being the one to have taken Michael's heart away from him, and fixed his lips into a welcoming grin.
"Hello!" Rory joined them, putting down a pint glass, containing an identical liquid to Christian's, and pulled up a chair.
"Hiya! It's been a while.." Christian slapped him manfully on the back, making him buckle.
"..You went for the Old Filthy too, I see! Were you looking at the drinks menu to see what else they had?"
"The what? Oh that, no, my brain was engaged in the thorny issue concerning the regional differences of pigmentation, used in thirteenth century manuscripts.. I can see you're both riveted. How are you finding the Old Filthy?" Rory smiled politely at Christian.
"I'm getting a hint of Licorice.." Christian wrinkled his nose.
"Mingled with sump oil? Not that I've ever drunk sump oil.. I predict a big headache to follow, this stuff must be about eighty per cent proof. It's nice to see you, in better circumstances. Thank you again, Syed, for remembering where Michael might have got to."
Disarmed by the dark chocolate brown eyes meeting his own, Syed mumbled.
"No problem. Is he coming?"
Rory pushed his hair away from his forehead, and fiddled with the tattered cuff of his jacket.
"He said he might be late. He's been driving around Sloane Square in a nineteen sixties sport's car, having his picture taken, and then he had to go to a drinks party.." He glanced at his watch.
"He'll be over excited then.." Christian stated, raising his eyebrows at Syed.
"Very probably. I hope you don't mind putting up with me until then? I've been in the British Museum all day, so I'm in a cerebral stupor.."
Christian laughed.
"Syed gets like that, old dolly daydream.."
Syed was on the verge of protesting that he did no such thing, when the doors burst open, and an ear piercing screech, that could have awoken the dead from their slumber, ricocheted about the room.
"SWEETIES!"