[BTR]

[eelseason]

[Locked to Elashte]

You know I appreciate everything you've done for me and my te Torchwood, but could you please, in the future, respect the privacy of our thoughts?

I'm not going to make assumptions about demon social codes, but in our business, mind-reading a serious breech of trust and privacy with a number of risks to the perpetrator as well as the target.

[Locked to the Doctor]

{{Several lines of text are stricken out so comprehensively that not even the general shapes of letters or words can be discerned.}}

So, hypothetically speaking, what would you do with a Wanderer with paranoid tendencies and paramilitary training who happens to have gained the ability to see into a person's subconscious?

Comments

[eelseason]

A white picket fence? Isn't that something like your personal definition of Purgatory?

The Other Guy's TARDIS weird you out a bit too much?

[thatsortofaman.livejournal.com]

Well. Martha likes it. And I'm not living there.

The TARDIS is fine, just... not always where I need to be, and moving too far hurts her.

[eelseason]

Well, if Martha likes it, it can't be too bad. Just be careful you don't find yourself domesticated.

[thatsortofaman.livejournal.com]

Stop that. I don't do domestic, and just because I happen to stop by to see Martha every now and then... It doesn't mean anything.

[eelseason]

If it makes you feel better, I can rig up a system that will play "Stray Cat Strut" any time you walk in the gate.

[thatsortofaman.livejournal.com]

You know, I think you'd survive if someone shoved you through the Rift. Care to experiment?

[eelseason]

...Are you all right?

[thatsortofaman.livejournal.com]

What? Fine. Why?

[eelseason]

No, you're not, and asking was a formality. In the years in which I've known you on either side of the rift, I've never seen you even obliquely threaten anyone with violence unless that person was a threat on the lines of Daleks. And since I'm pretty sure I'm not threatening to annihilate Chicago or anything, something is going on.

Can I help?

[thatsortofaman.livejournal.com]

Oh, you couldn't have thought I was serious.

No, you can't help, because I really am fine. I'll be at the Main Gauche soon as I can.

[eelseason]

Yeah, but even in jest

...

You've totally closed your journal, haven't you. I'm just going to write to empty space until you arrive.


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