The Timeline to the Left (a Come Sail Away AU)

[businessorlibation]

The Promenade. The beating heart of the ship. People-watching was always worthwhile here, and it seemed Johnny was enough in the habit that sitting at a table outside the Drunken Sailor with a meal and a thoughtful expression wouldn't immediately give away the ghost passenger controlling him now. He looks as he always does; nice suit, well-shined shoes, hair slicked back just so. Watchful, wary. There's plenty of time to learn the rhythms of this voyage.

So long as the ghost doesn't get caught.

And in the meantime, there's memories to sort through, some more surprising than others.

Comments

[lightconductor]

"Johnny," Watson says, warm and affectionate. "How do you feel about a little company? Since we seem to have the same place in mind for lunch today."

He slides into the seat without waiting for an answer, because he doesn't expect the answer to be no.

[pointofhonoria]

"Alright, Summer?"

Crabb comes up from behind and to the left, clapping him with a friendly hand on the shoulder on her way past to one, steal a single morsel directly from his plate, and two, flip a chair at the same table around so she can sit on it backwards. As she does. Arms crossed over the back as she follows Johnny's eyeline.

By now the way she's dressed is plenty familiar to Johnny himself, at least. A flannel in a colour close to Gallery's teal, over pants and under one of her couple of pairs of suspenders she has to make repeat use of.

"Whatcha doing?"

[businessorlibation]

Johnny's hand darts out to grab Crabb's wrist when she pilfers that chip. Not with a tight grip, but it's a viper-swift little warning, before he laughs and lets go. Clearly that was just a joke. Clearly.

"Crabb." There's a brief up-down look at her outfit and a smile that he can't stifle, a note of approval. The modern weeds do suit her.

"Just keeping an eye open. You never know what'll happen on this ship."

[businessorlibation]

"Glad to see you, John."

Ah, one of the lovers. Fiances? How interesting. Is there really a point to getting married on this ship, just to see your spouse ground down to nothingness through cruelty while you hang onto your sanity with clawed fingers?

Well. They're unlikely to find out, in the end, once this voyage's passengers are handled. But for the moment, strategy is key. Gathering information. Working people against one another. It's like chess, perhaps. And Dr. John Watson is no mere pawn.

"Busy morning? I'm guessing you've been in the infirmary."

[lightconductor]

"I have been, but I'm not sure it was what I'd say was busy." Watson smiles faintly. "Not that I have any complaint. Around here, a slow morning is a good morning. I get rather worried when it's a busy morning. Who knows what that insinuates."

He smiles, an expression that's half despairing and trying not to be. "What have you been up to?"

[pointofhonoria]

Crabb raises a brow for just a second at the sudden grip, but— then rolls her eyes, rubbing her wrist exaggeratedly as if it hurt more than it did and holding her hands up like she's conceding.

She still almost goes for another just to mess with him, but besides her eyeing the chips again she doesn't follow through.

"Ain't that the truth. We've already had, what? Two explosions? Bleedin' crazy what people get up to even when we ain't being sent anywhere..." She props her chin on her arms. "Anything interesting?"

[businessorlibation]

"Only two?" Must be a slow month. That or this voyage is...different. The ghost riffles through Johnny's memories and sees the difference in voyages in pieces and chunks.

"People are helping themself to the alcohol, but when have they not. What's more interesting to me is that people are choosing to serve the coffee at Sand Dollars. Friday's bound to lecture them at some point for working. Right?"

No, no she's not.

[businessorlibation]

"A slow morning of people-watching. The pace of the ship can best be observed at the Promenade. Who's bustling through, who's meandering across." Someone else is walking past behind their conversation, and Johnny's finger traces their path. "And when it's empty, that's a dire sign in itself."

[pointofhonoria]

"What, you think we should've had more?" She huffs a bit of a laugh. "Don't count us out yet, I guess, there's still time and no excursion. The stir craziness will set in eventually."

She's mostly joking, but hey, you never know, right? Some of the people on the ship are still... well, interesting types.

"Anyway, you'd think. She's pretty run ragged, seems like. Way the ship's given up the ghost on repairing itself, and all. Bigger worries. Does she even bother you these days? 'bout the bar work, and all."

[lightconductor]

"Hm. I imagine it would be a serious problem, were it empty. A sign of something gone seriously wrong, and potentially something to be very concerned about."

He looks at Johnny for a moment, a fond smile lurking around the corners of his mouth. "You are in a particular sort of mood today, aren't you?"

[businessorlibation]

"Full of thoughts, that's all. You're welcome to distract me from them, if you'd like."

Probably better to let Watson take the lead, avoid rousing suspicion. Though it'd be best to avoid rousing other things too much, either.

[businessorlibation]

"Not often. I do make a point of making myself drinks between serving others, though, so it's less of a job and more a chance to share my modest knowledge of the craft with those who may appreciate it. Miss Friday can't dissuade me from that."

There's a soft faux innocence in his smile there. Butter wouldn't melt in his mouth.

[lightconductor]

"Oh, did you need distracting? Because I can do that for you."

Under the table, he nudges his foot up against Johnny's, and shifts his chair a little closer.

"Though there is a limit, of course, to how distracted I can make you in public."

[businessorlibation]

"There is that, for propriety's sake. We'd hardly want to scandalize the other passengers. They've certainly never seen anything as in appropriate as...what? Two men holding hands? Or were you thinking something else?"

His eyes twinkle with wry amusement.

[lightconductor]

"Unimaginative of you, if that's all you can think of," he says, grinning. "No, I was thinking a little experimentation involving the small of your back and my tongue. You could always shine my boots for me again, though, if you'd prefer."

It's nice, this sense of playful ease. It's easy for Watson to relax.

[businessorlibation]

"Your boots..." Johnny's lips curl in a Cheshire cat smile, as the ghost finds that memory. "Someone does need to ensure they're in proper condition."

And honestly, to fall into that role would be more comfortable than being licked by a stranger. It's not unfamiliar.

[lightconductor]

"Well, then. I suppose we could do something along those lines again, love. Certainly not a hardship for me, whatever catches your fancy."

Feeling a little daring, Watson reaches to catch Johnny by the chin to kiss him, gently, far more gently than his words might have implied.

[businessorlibation]

The kiss is startling. The gentleness, even moreso. He freezes, tenses up completely like he's expecting that kiss to be paired with a knife in the gut. A gun pressed to his chest. A snake's bite. Some hidden cruelty.

But it's just a kiss. Just a sweet, loving kiss, and the ghost inside Johnny Summer doesn't know what to do with that.

[lightconductor]

Watson pauses, and pulls back, looking at Johnny in open concern. There are a number of reactions he might have expected, but not that sort of tension. That's... wrong, somehow. "What is it, love?" He speaks in a soft voice, but his brow is creased. "Did I do something?"

[businessorlibation]

"No, nothing's wrong. You merely managed to startle me."

He sits back in his chair, running through potential methods of dealing with the situation. Well, the most expedient would be murder, but the ghost isn't familiar with this body, and not carrying Johnny's revolver. Silly mistake. Such a silly mistake.

Can the bluff somehow be maintained? The ghost is a good liar, but...good enough for this? Uncertain.

[lightconductor]

A prickle of discomfort runs along the back of Watson's spine, the sense that something is wrong somehow, but he lacks any idea of what that thing could be. As strange as things have been lately, he can't slot Johnny's strangeness into it.

"Startle you?" He shakes his head in faint disbelief, but his voice is gentle. "I would have thought I was being obvious enough for you to guess my intentions."

[pointofhonoria]

...you know she's not sure if she's ever actually heard him call her Miss Friday, rather than the faceless dame? It didn't catch on her ear the first time, but something about the Miss draws her attention this time around.

"Gaming the system, huh. Sounds about right for us." She taps idly on the back of the chair. "Since when did you actually call her by her name? Leaving all the faceless titles to me now?"

She rarely uses the same thing twice in a row. Faceless dame, no face, woman with no face, so on. Not even sure why she fell into the habit, but.

[businessorlibation]

Ah, what a foolish error. The ghost will need to be more careful to put on Johnny's airs.

...oh, wait, does that mean taking up smoking? Gross.

"It simply seems more proper. She does try so hard for us, doesn't she? Perhaps we ought to give her just a little more respect for her efforts."

[businessorlibation]

"You were, my love. Think nothing of it." An attempt at a soft, reassuring smile, though there's something calculating, canny behind Johnny's golden eyes. It's a look he's not known for often, and never when alone with his lovers.

[lightconductor]

That sense of something being wrong is all the stronger, but what do you say in a situation like this? He doesn't know what to do with this that doesn't sound like nonsensical paranoia. And surely, the idea that your lover is not your lover can only be paranoia. "You would tell me if all wasn't well with you, wouldn't you?" It's half a reminder, half a plea. "You know I want only to help you."

[businessorlibation]

There's a pause. A shuddering little breath. Think fast, now--you don't want to be found out. It'll be certain death if you're found out.

"Nightmares. I had nightmares last night that stuck in my mind. I think I saw visions of some other voyage of the Serena Eterna."

Would this tactic work? Uncertain. But some attempt at subterfuge would be better than going down helplessly.

"It was a brutal time, where no one trusted one another at all. Backstabbing was constant and no one could be trusted or relied on."

[lightconductor]

"That sounds... hideous. I could see that being a different flavour of horror than the one we've been dealing with."

There is horror in seeing your loved ones suffer, after all, and there is horror in not having any loved ones to rely upon at all. Still, it's not entirely satisfying explanation. Perhaps if he just keeps Johnny talking for a bit, and this will start to make sense. "You think it was more than mere dreams, then? You're welcome to tell me about it, of course."

[businessorlibation]

"I remember dying. Not once, but many times. Learning people's flaws to try to make sure they didn't bring me down first. Learning to play chess with others, see which pawns I could move to protect myself from danger."

There's a bit of a shudder (forced, of course, meant to draw sympathy).

"I suppose I may have carried some of that paranoid mindset with me into the light of day."

[lightconductor]

Watson is, fortunately or unfortunately, highly susceptible to plays on his sympathy. "Well," he says, softening a little, "perhaps I can do something to help ease that paranoia, hmm?"

He hasn't forgotten, but he has relaxed a little. He pats Johnny on the arm, reassuring. "I can believe you capable of such things, but I hate to think of you ever having to."

[businessorlibation]

"Yes, I'm not given to the same ruthlessness and mind for conspiracy that whoever I was dreaming of was. It would take a lot to push me to such extremes."

Alright, stop tooting your own horn. That's hardly going to help this situation in the long term, if there is a long term.

As John pats his arm, Johnny offers a bit of a smile.

[lightconductor]

"Mmm. I love you for your brilliance, but also for your kindness, and if you ever lost the latter in favour of growing better at the former, it would break my heart a little."

He gently nudges his foot up against Johnny's, under the table. His expression is soft, deeply fond. "Still, it's a strange thing to dream about. I'm not sure if it's something we ought to be concerned about. Things have been... off, lately, haven't they?"

[businessorlibation]

Also for his kindness.

Well, there it is. The ruthlessness that the ghost learned long, long before the Serena Eterna, honed at the side of duplicitous relations would not be accepted. It sharpens the ghost's resolve--no need to cherish this moment of stolen warmth, it was never theirs to hold onto. It never would have been.

An act of violence at an opportune moment might win another ally, though. It'll be a matter of timing. It always is.

"Mm, so they have been. An air of unrest, the shops going untended, messes left where they lay. A shift in the metaphysical wind that you and I are unlucky enough to have no inherent sense for."

[lightconductor]

"Living in some of these worlds must be exhausting and ridiculous, but it's a bit of a disadvantage here, isn't it? I never know what's meant to be reasonable and what's not."

He shakes his head with a bit of a smile, a tired expression. "I'd ask for lessons, if I thought it would do any good. Even if I knew, I suppose I still wouldn't be able to do much about it. I don't suppose there's much point in dismissing your dream as only a dream, either."

[businessorlibation]

"I'd say it's within the realm of possibility that my mind could have produced it as a nightmare. But given the nature of our host and our housing, it's perhaps not the most plausible solution. St. Occam and his infamous razor defy use here."

[pointofhonoria]

Crabb eyes him a bit, that's a sudden change of tune after a very long time playing the same one. Is that really all it's about? "Guess so, but she's still... I dunno, she still kinda gives me the creeps. And she still works for the bastard up top, much as I s'pose I feel sorry for the dame running around after the most chaotic of us she's still bit of an... unknown element?"

Wavy vague hand gestures.