Disclaimer: I own nothing and profit none.
A/N: Hopefully you all were anxious to hear about cricket? For those of you who actually know something about the sport, I can only say: Please forgive me. And blame NaNoWriMo.
Total Word Count: 9,233
Will had begged out of any male bonding with the exhaustion excuse for the first day and work after that, but as the weekend loomed he suspected that his time was drawing nigh. A foresight that was proved correct for once, most unlike the usual nature of foresights, when Declan appeared in Will's London Office wearing jeans and a jacket and clearly looking for a night out.
"Hey, I've just been looking over this new proposal," he gave it a game try anyway.
"The one about modifying several of the older enclosures? It needed a few changes, which Monique is working on," Declan smiled in a 'cat-got-the-canary' sort of way. "I believe I promised you a night on the town, didn't I?"
Out of ideas, Will gave in as gracefully as he could manage, "Yes, you did. Complete with a few veiled threats."
Declan laughed, "Well, it kept you out of trouble for the past few days, didn't it? C'mon, there's a pint with your name on it out there."
Will stood and then his mind caught up with the conversation and he paused, leaning against the London Desk. "Wait, so all that this week was just to torture me?"
"Torture seems a bit harsh. Distracted you some, though, huh?" Declan shrugged.
"Uh, yeah," as Will reviewed the week, he realized that when his thoughts had wandered, they had gone to what horrors Declan could be planning - not too-real memories of Abby. "Thanks. I guess."
"In return, you can get the second round," Declan offered generously. "First is on me."
"Let me just grab a coat," he halted as Declan held up his left hand to reveal Will's jacket. "Or not. You're really prepared."
"Considering you've been jumpier than a cipher beetle fresh out of status since you got here, it seemed a good idea. Which reminds me," Declan continued, handing the Will the jacket and heading for the door. "Rule One: No shop talk."
"Wait, now there's rules?" Will shrugged the coat on as they reached the stairs. "Do I get to make some up as well or have you gone mad with power?"
"Depends on if you've got any good ones. I'm holding onto the veto," Declan warned, "so don't try anything snotty or I'll take your coffee away again."
Will rolled his eyes at the reminder of the day and a half he'd had to suffer without coffee until he managed to talk Declan out of his militant stance. There had been promises of never telling Magnus and swearing that it had been followed through, accompanied by a fair bit of bribery. By the end, Will still wasn't exactly sure what all he'd promised. That would probably come back to haunt him.
He began to relax during the walk through the chilly London streets. Definitely needed the jacket. Assuming that Declan wasn't lulling him into a false sense of security, this might be a good idea. Get away from the Sanctuary for the night - that sounded almost like a hint of a balanced life. Which thought led him back to Abby, so he decided to stop thinking for the night altogether and concentrated on Declan's umpteenth description of cricket. Which made no more sense than the last, proving that his theory that one must be British in order to get this sport was right on the money.
"Right," Declan sighed as they reached a corner pub that overflowed with the hum of chatter, warm and palpable to those outside. "Let me rethink my attack before we take another run at this."
"If I promise never to go to a cricket game, can we not?" Will suggested, head swimming with words like 'bowler' and 'dismissed.' He fully intended to try and drown them out with beer.
Whatever answer Declan made was lost in the bastle as they pulled the heavy door open and escaped from the cold into the pleasant din of a Friday evening pub. Will was quickly dispatched to snag a table as Declan set his sights on the bar, the happy result of which was a smallish table and deep pints of beer. Conversation was set by the wayside for a moment as they settled in and took that first deep draught that could be felt sliding deliciously down the throat. Mutual sighs of satisfaction were exchanged, spines relaxed, and Will resolutely shoved both Abby and the overwhelming number of details that the pub provided far away and focused on Declan. Who chose that moment to lean forward with a do-or-die look in his eye.
"One more time. I've got a plan now."
Will took a deeper drink and waved Declan on.
"Think of it like baseball. I know you get that sport, at least."
Will nodded. So far, he was totally with it.
"Well, instead of your pitcher there's a bloke called a bowler. Then there's two more who are like batters, only called batsmen, who have bats and stand on opposite sides of the bowler. Alright?"
Another nod. Pitcher = Bowler. Two batters who were really batsmen, presumably with those weird bats. Check. This deserved a drink.
"Did you catch on to what a wicket was yet?"
"Uh, funny wooden sculpture thing?" Will squinted in Declan's direction. He looked as though he wasn't quite sure how to respond to that.
After a pause, he shrugged and continued. "Sure. Close enough. Now the bowler tries to bowl the ball past one of the batsman to hit the wicket. Think of it like underhanded pitching. With the wicket as the catcher. The batsman tries to hit the ball away from the wicket. So that's really the same."
Will nodded at Declan's raised eyebrow. Then took another drink. Seemed like it was helping.
"Right," Declan took a deep drink, then a deep breath. "Now, if the bowler manages to hit the wicket, then the batsman is dismissed and replaced with another. Like being struck out."
"How do you know so much about baseball?" Will was distracted from the topic at hand as this thought came to mind simultaneously with the realization that he had reached the bottom of his glass.
"Eh, I've caught a game or two. Runs a bit long, though, doesn't it?"
"It only seems that way if it's a boring match-up," Will answered honestly. "Let's let Lesson One sink in while I get the next round. Same?"
"Yeah," Declan pushed his glass out of the way and leaned back in his chair as Will took his turn navigating through the press of people.
Mission successfully, he reclaimed his seat and rewarded his valiant efforts with a long pull at a fresh pint.
"Right," he said, determination refreshed. "So, what happens if the batter, uh, batsman hits the ball?"
Declan swallowed and planted his elbows on the table again. "If he hits the ball, the outcome can vary. If it's caught, then he's also dismissed."
"Like a fly ball, got it." Beer really was making this easier.
"If it lands off the field, like a homer? Then six runs are scored and the batsman can't attempt any more."
"Runs?" Will frowned as he tried to remember if that had come up yet.
"I'll get to those later. For now, just think of them as, well, baseball runs. I guess."
"Are there bases in cricket?" Will asked dubiously.
"No. Just go with it for now, alright?" Declan looked a bit exasperated at the breakdown in his metaphor.
"Right. Baseless runs, check." At the look of introspection across the way, he added helpfully, "You were on the bit about the batsman hitting a homer."
"That sounds so wrong," Declan muttered before continuing. "If the ball lands on the field, but then rolls off, then four runs are scored and the batsman can't attempt any more. Good so far?"
"Think so," Will frowned a bit. "Six if it lands off, four if it rolls off?"
"Right," Declan smiled in relief. "Now comes the tricky bit. Runs."
After another long drink, Will settled forward onto the table himself, hand propping up his head as he tried to sort out the details of scoring runs. This might take another beer.
A while and a change in topic later, they left the pub with Declan still annoying solid as a curbstone. Will decided that he wasn't precisely drunk yet, but definitely staggering down that winding road with his current location settling somewhere in Happy Buzzed Town. Although the cold was dragging him a bit backwards from that destination.
"Where to?" he asked, hoping that the answer was both warm and close by.
"Somewhere quieter," Declan answered, which didn't really resolve either of Will's underlying questions. "It's not far." Which was good news, at least.
It was also warm, Will determined happily after Declan led him through a door in the wall that he hadn't even noticed until it was opened under his nose. On top of warm, it was also relaxed and, as promised, decently quiet without edging over into creepy. Muted, more than silent.
"Deco," a thick voice from behind the bar rolled out. "Haven't seen you here in a time."
"Work," Declan responded with a smile and a 'what-can-you-do-about-it' shrug. "Sad situation, mate."
"I hear that," the man turned towards the glasses against the wall. "Still the usual?"
"Haven't changed that much. And he'll take a Guinness," he pointed his thumb over at Will.
"Sensible man," the barkeep nodded approvingly.
Will just grinned and kept his silence as Declan and the Nameless Barkeep bantered while the drinks were pulled. They were waved away towards an empty corner table and Will settled back as his ears practically hummed at the silence.
"Nice," he offered to Declan.
"Makes a good change from the usual madness back home," Declan acknowledged. "Pretty sure the beer here even repairs the nerves."
"I'll drink to that," Will said with a smile, making good on his claim.
It was late hours when they finally stumbled back to the Sanctuary. Well, Will did a bit of stumbling, while muttering unkind things about Declan's clearly unnatural constitution. Luckily, it seemed to provide a source of amusement for Declan and he saw him to his room without any rancor.
Despite Will's secret fears, they'd barely touched on the subject of Abby, or relationships in general, apart from a short exchange before Will added a Rule about girls not being allowed on Guy's Night. Declan had reiterated that he was sorry, Will had answered that he was putting it behind him, they'd had a bit of manly arm punching, and then returned to the topic of how brilliant it would be to have a game that combined rugby and softball in an unholy mash-up.
Will vaguely wished that he'd written the guidelines for that down.
He was about to settle into welcoming blankets when his somewhat watery mind remembered that he hadn't called Magnus that evening. So engrained was the practice after a week that he managed to find his phone and locate the right number before the idea of the time floated across his mind.
"Will?"
Well, she didn't sound like she had been asleep. If she was planning on sleeping that night at all.
"'Lo!" he responded, then decided that had sounded too happy and tried a more dignified, "I mean, hey."
"What are... ah. That's right, it was Friday, wasn't it?" he breathed out in relief at the amusement in her voice.
"Was?" Will squinted over at the steadily glowing number of the digital clock. Yes, that was a small number, wasn't it. "Uh, sorry?"
"Quite alright," she reassured him. "Provided you don't intend to make a habit of it," she added after a short pause.
"Doubt I'll want to in the morning," he confessed.
"Tea will sort you out," Magnus advised.
"That's your answer to everything," he laughed. "I think I'll stick with water. Lots and lots of it."
"I suppose that will do," she acknowledged. "I see that Declan shan't have the bother of disposing of a body tonight."
"Nah, he was just keeping my mind off of Ab, uh, stuff. I'm still gonna get him back, though. Any thoughts?" Two ideas murkily connected in his mind. "Hey wait, you knew about his subter - lies."
"Still between you and Declan," she said quickly. "What was the actual plan, anyway?" she changed the subject disarmingly.
"Pub and then a bar. It was fun," he admitted, a little sulkily. "The pub was classic and the bar was quiet. Good night."
"I'm glad," she said warmly, "and I think I've been to that bar. Hidden in a wall, oddly blue walls?"
"Yeah," Will tried to imagine Magnus in a bar and failed entirely. "Declan took you?"
"Hm," she agreed. "Quite pleasant, excellent ale."
His mind completely gave up at the thought of her with a pint. It created a bizarrely superimposed image of Magnus having tea in her office over his memory of the bar. Apparently some things just had to be seen.
"We'll have to," he trailed off as he realized the impossibility of getting her safely to anywhere on the surface, let alone London. "Uh," his brain halted.
"Maybe one day," she let him off the hook easily. "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself," she repeated.
"Yeah, I was thinking that it was almost normal," he frowned at that sentence. If he wasn't wrong, that could possibly be construed as insulting. "I think I may suck at this tonight."
"There's no fault in taking a break every now and then," she said gently. "I realize that you've been traveling quite a bit lately and Declan's had a lot on his plate as well."
"Seems like it's been a kinda crazy here," Will agreed. "But T.J. passed with flying colors tonight. Or at least we didn't get any frantic pages of the 'oops, it escaped' variety."
"That's certainly a good sign," she chuckled. "Do you think you'll stay through next week?"
"Yeah," he burrowed further into the covers. One of the best things Underground was how well-insulated his rooms were. Warmth and stone castles had an uneasy relationship. "There's a couple proposals that I wanna look over. Maybe a few more things I can get done." He yawned suddenly and tried to pull the phone away from his mouth.
"I think that's a sign that we can continue this tomorrow. Or later today," she laughed.
"Mmkay," he agreed as tiredness battered him about the head. "Tomorrow. Good night."
"Sleep well, Will." He barely heard her response as he formed a closer acquaintanceship with his pillow.