Title: Material Culture
Author: Nemo the Everbeing
Rating: PG again
Summary: Every object has significance. The goal of study is to determine what it is. (Finch/Dominic)
Disclaimer: 'V for Vendetta' belongs to Alan Moore and David Lloyd. The theatrical version of the story belongs to Warner Brothers, the Wachowski brothers, and possibly a few other brothers. I don't own any of it, am not a brother, and write this solely for my own pleasure.
oOo oOo Footnote the Second oOo oOo
"So, you've gone from hating him to living together. If I didn't know you were both real, I'd say it's a setup for a sitcom," Delia says, sipping a whiskey. She always likes her liquor neat.
"Who says I'm real?" Finch asks. He loves these evenings, being allowed to unwind with someone out of his chain of command. Delia is great company with no pressure for more. Maybe she needs the lack of complications as much as he does. He tries to imagine doing this with Dominic, but they would end up talking about work and defeating the purpose.
Her laughter is bright and deepens the lines around her eyes. "This is why I could never date you, Eric. You may be a cop to the rest of the world, but at your heart you are a philosopher."
"No, at my heart I'm a pragmatist. I just wish I was a philosopher."
"Very philosophical. And not a bad dodge from the original topic."
"Yes, he's staying with me, but that's purely because I don't want to lose a partner. He's shot two Fingermen in two years. Creedy is more than willing to snatch him at home, so I planted him in the one place even Creedy doesn't have the stones to try for."
"Your couch?"
"Mm."
"And how is he as a house guest?"
"Surprisingly unobtrusive. He's taken over a single end-table and a bit of the bathroom, but otherwise you wouldn't know he was there."
"He's been in your flat a week, and that's it? Is the man a saint, or just shockingly tidy?" Delia orders another whiskey. They barely seem to affect her. Finch sticks to pints. He gets a bit bleary after too much liquor, and the relaxing part of the evening is the company and the conversation. He drinks liquor at home, and in turn, drinks liquor with Dominic. Beer and clarity are Delia's.
"I think he's still on his best behavior," Finch says. "It's all a bit strange for us, I suppose. We've worked together well enough since we got past the initials, but seeing someone while they're asleep is something else."
Delia's smile says she's teasing him. "If you aren't careful he'll end up being your friend. And then who would I drink with?"
"Something tells me I've room enough in my life for two drinking partners." He doesn't say he's already drinking with Dominic. It seems unfair, somehow, to deny that his friendship with Delia is unique. It is. He doesn't have friends, as a rule, and before Delia he couldn't imagine a friend who wasn't also a cop. Delia isn't a cop, and she's certainly a friend. So he says nothing, and they chat a bit more about Dominic, but soon enough they're on to Delia's window box, and what she's thinking of planting this year. It's good to talk about something of so little consequence for a while.