IC Inbox (v1.0)

[jumpthegun]

You've reached Dr. John Watson. Please leave a message.

Comments

[jumpthegun]

I've got someone who's asked me to look at a frostbite injury down near the hospital. As soon as I'm finished with that, I'll head north to meet you in the middle, Fi. I don't want you on your own for too long.

It'd be handy if you let the spiders know to pop you into the police station or morgue, mate.

[devoutish]

[Alfie frowns deeply at that, making a noise in the back of his throat but not saying anything. He hadn't thought of that as an option, and he doesn't trust it.]

[plundering]

He's joking.

[And then, to Watson:]

I'll be fine. Don't worry about me.

[jumpthegun]

I was joking.

[Because the alternative is being despondent.]

And don't start that up. You know we're both gonna worry about you.

[devoutish]

[His eyes closed, Alfie raises his eyebrows.]

Fucking hypocrite. Isn't he?

[He gives Fiona a light nudge.]

[plundering]

[It doesn't get a smile from her, but she appreciates the usual joke.]

Yep. What else is new?

[jumpthegun]

I'm sorry, did you just admit you worry about me in a roundabout way, Alfie? That's new, I think. Definitely, yeah. [He's really trying to cheer Fiona here. Alfie... well, Alfie's going to die. He seems to be relatively at-peace with this.]

[devoutish]

Fucking insufferable. Why are we talking to you again?

[plundering]

[Fiona smiles just a little.]

Good question. Why are we?

[jumpthegun]

Because I've got a pretty face. [A pretty haggard face, but he'll play along since it is getting Fiona to smile.] Dunno why I put up with talking to the pair of you, really.

[devoutish]

I don't talk to men based on their pretty faces.

[jumpthegun]

But you think my face is pretty? Thanks mate! You're not s'bad yourself.