Because you're high as a kite. Don't worry, carry on.
[ the more she talks, the more she reminds him of Sherlock and the more he knows that they'll either get on fabulously or genuinely want each other dead. it's a problem for another day. ]
I'm not sure those are the rules, Rosalind Lutece.
[ her name is far less convenient for casually throwing out, but he made the effort anyway, all in the name of teasing. since Dorian's got slack, the least he can do is step in to make sure somebody's not giving her an easy time of it. ]
Someone who forcibly ignores me. And then gloats about it afterwards, like an absolute bastard, just cos he's strong and tall and all that.
[Not that she minds. Not that she really dislikes Bigby and his rule-breaking, if in no small part because it ends up being pleasurable for the two of them. But thank god, she's not actually saying that just yet.]
He's interesting. And I know enough about myself to know I have a type. He just happens to fit within that type, insufferable personality aside. And he's-- you know-- appealing in that sort of rough way, and there's something appealing about that kind of roughness--
[ literally nobody is making you talk about it, but wow. John stands, leaning against a set of shelves, and takes it all in. who knew the slightest little prod would spill this many beans.
John isn't, however, above making the most of the situation by asking questions. this is the lesser of many evils, really. ]
Just wasn't expecting... all the details, I suppose.
[ and if he's honest, the idea of beloved and sex being two separate entities sits strangely. one without the other, fine, but sex elsewhere when you're involved? that's surprising. ]
[She makes a soft noise, a hmm of quiet disagreement.]
I did not. I didn't even tell you what we did at the gala. That would be details, and hideous ones at that.
[Someday she's going to remember this conversation and want to die.]
All I said was that I fuck a man-- or men, sometimes, or not men at all-- and I love another, that's barely anything at all. Honestly, John, learn to tell when you're being told something scandalous.
[ it keeps happening. it keeps! happening. but that's okay. the information goes filed away and shut down, none of his business really but known now, and John just - ]
Mmm.
[ okay. okay, he'll learn. but for now, please, let's change the subject. he doesn't want the retribution he's due from this. ]
I'll keep that in mind for next time. Are you tired yet?
[Fortunately (or unfortunately, maybe, depending on who you're asking) Rosalind is fairly easily redirected. Are you tired yet, and her thoughts go from Robert and Bigby to indignance and exhaustion. And something else, something darker, but she isn't going to think about that. That's half the reason she's drugged up right now, because she doesn't want to think about that.]
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[There's a fair bit of movement as she hoists herself up. There's a bit of silence, and then:]
I don't know, John, don't ask me things like that. It's-- nn, propofol? I think it's that.
[Maybe it's not, maybe that's not the right kind of thing to put in an IV, I'm not a doctor, I don't know.]
Why? That's dull to talk about, why are we talking about this when we could be talking about something interesting.
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[ the more she talks, the more she reminds him of Sherlock and the more he knows that they'll either get on fabulously or genuinely want each other dead. it's a problem for another day. ]
Though it might be nap time soon.
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I'll sleep when I want to, John Watson. You're the last person to tell me when to sleep. Maybe I shan't at all.
[SO THERE. She showed him.]
And anyway, if I'm to sleep, you at least have to stop working.
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[ her name is far less convenient for casually throwing out, but he made the effort anyway, all in the name of teasing. since Dorian's got slack, the least he can do is step in to make sure somebody's not giving her an easy time of it. ]
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[. . .]
Except Bigby.
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Somebody who doesn't agree?
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[Not that she minds. Not that she really dislikes Bigby and his rule-breaking, if in no small part because it ends up being pleasurable for the two of them. But thank god, she's not actually saying that just yet.]
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[ poke. that. bear. ]
1/2
Shut up.
2/3
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[ros nobody is making you talk about it]
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John isn't, however, above making the most of the situation by asking questions. this is the lesser of many evils, really. ]
You together then?
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God, no. No, we just-- you know-- fuck.
Frequently.
[A pause. She may be contemplating this for a few seconds, but then:]
I've already got my beloved.
[But she doesn't want to think about Robert, actually, and so:]
No relationships . . . but sex is fine. Sex is fine.
1/?
okay.
alright.
okay. ]
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and we're done
Okay.
[ what can I change the topic to, I have heard too much. ]
Good. Fine.
[ nothing, apparently. okay. ]
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[ surprised. surprise, Rosalind, it doesn't take that much after all. ]
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[A few seconds pass, and then, belatedly:]
Why are you surprised?
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I'd be fine, I'm just—
[ but Rosalind's moving on, and - ]
Just wasn't expecting... all the details, I suppose.
[ and if he's honest, the idea of beloved and sex being two separate entities sits strangely. one without the other, fine, but sex elsewhere when you're involved? that's surprising. ]
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I did not. I didn't even tell you what we did at the gala. That would be details, and hideous ones at that.
[Someday she's going to remember this conversation and want to die.]
All I said was that I fuck a man-- or men, sometimes, or not men at all-- and I love another, that's barely anything at all. Honestly, John, learn to tell when you're being told something scandalous.
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Mmm.
[ okay. okay, he'll learn. but for now, please, let's change the subject. he doesn't want the retribution he's due from this. ]
I'll keep that in mind for next time. Are you tired yet?
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No.
[Perhaps a bit, and she yawns as she says it.]
I want you to visit me soon.
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