(no subject)

[ladyfirestarter]

Charlie turns away from the little kitchenette's counter, and carries the two mugs of cocoa over to the couch.

"So you think it's helping, then? Cumulatively?"

Comments

[thisfatefulhour]

He relaxes a little with the laughter.

"Probably true."

[ladyfirestarter]

"And if he's just a talker, we can --"

She stutters to a halt in midsentence, the laughter falling away.

[thisfatefulhour]

Blinking, he opens his mouth to ask what's wrong, but she shushes him.

He falls silent, watching her closely.

[ladyfirestarter]

One of her hands is poised in the air where she raised it to hush him, hovering forgotten as she looks fixedly at the far wall; it's as though she's trying to listen to something, some distant sound just out of the range of hearing.

The impression's heightened when she says in very low tones: "Do you feel that?"

[thisfatefulhour]

"Something's happening?" he murmurs, no louder.

[ladyfirestarter]

She nods, still abstracted.

"Something..."

A sudden frown.

"Something's wrong."

[thisfatefulhour]

"How so?"

[ladyfirestarter]

Charlie shakes her head. "I don't know."

[thisfatefulhour]

"Can you feel anything else?"

[ladyfirestarter]

A long pause.

"No, but ... it's still there. Coming and going."

There's a tension starting in her posture, as she leans forward and puts down the near-empty mug.

"I don't know what's coming, but it might be a good idea to get you back safe before it starts."

[thisfatefulhour]

Privately, Charles isn't sure that Milliways is safer than here.

But he nods agreement, straightening. "All right."

[ladyfirestarter]

The permanent door is not far from her suite. Charlie walks him there, sees him through, assures him that yes, she will call if she needs his help.

And then turns to head down to Fred Towne's office, to see if he heard that.



About fifteen minutes later comes a certain phone call.