Aug. 14th, 2010

diced_tartan: (Quiet Annoyance)
Even with Milliways making itself readily available, Nicholas was still going stir crazy. As much as he hated to admit it, that doctor with his strange devices did seem to make everything more bearable, but it wasn’t until after he got home that he realised he couldn’t actually tell anybody what happened.

And it wasn’t as though he’d completely healed, anyway. He didn’t need the pain killers so much anymore, but putting weight on his leg still hurt like a you-know-what, so he was still stuck on the crutches.

Nicholas knew there was a reason he never liked dogs. And this was it.

He practically jumped out of his seat when Travis came home, eager to finally get out of the flat.

“What time are we leaving?” Nicholas asked, following Travis back to his bedroom.

“We?” Travis asked. He looked at Nicholas for a few moments, not sure where this was going.

“It’s Friday,” Nicholas pointed out. “Aren’t we meeting Bob and Dave down at the Winchester?”

Travis sighed. “You’re not going out. Not like that.”

Nicholas frowned. This was not going as he’d expected. “You’re not my dad,” he said.

“No, but I have his number,” Travis said. They both knew calling Nicholas’ father wouldn’t accomplish anything.

“You do that, and I’ll just phone my mum,” Nicholas said. “I want to go out. I’ve been stuck in here all week. I need to be able to move around, or else it’ll just be harder on me when I do go back to work.”

Travis hated arguing with Nicholas. Mostly because the man had a way of sounding like he was right, even if he wasn’t. “Fuck, you’re right,” he said. “We can go somewhere else, though. You shouldn’t be drinking, anyway.”

“John does toasties,” Nicholas reasoned. “I wasn’t going to drink, anyway. I just want to go out.”

The problem with crutches is that one can’t properly cross their arms over their chest. So instead, Nicholas moved to block the door, ostensibly forcing Travis to be stuck in his room until he gave in.

“We’ll go somewhere else where you can have something decent for supper,” Travis said. “There are a million pubs in London, and plenty of them do food. Go get dressed; I’ll ring Dave.”

Nicholas didn’t like the idea of going somewhere else, but he knew that this was a time where he had to be willing to compromise. At least he was going somewhere, which wasn’t a horrible break in the routine, all things considered.

“Next time, though, can we go to the Winchester?” he asked, knowing that he was probably pressing his luck.

Travis carefully pushed him out of his way with a practised balance of force and precision. “Keep it up, and I’m leaving without you,” he said. “I’m faster than you right now, and don’t think I won’t run.”

“Fine.” Nicholas let him go get ready as he retreated to his own room to change his shirt.


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Police Chief Inspector Nicholas Angel

September 2013

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