no_sin_but | (no subject)

(no subject)

Marlowe had been intending on having a shower when he changed into a cat, and now things have changed.

He's in the bath. Thinking and soaking and oh, it feels good to be back.

Even if he will miss having two eyes.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"An odd desire to hear English accents again."

"You went to England?"

Oh.

"Just for a day or so. But, October. Mud and everything."

"With Mary Anne?"

Asking cheerfully, letting slip without thinking but his tone of voice is so casual he couldn't possibly mean anything by it.

"What time period?"

There are lots.

Forewarned, as they say, is forearmed, and Marlowe doesn't even glance at him.

"I am fully capable of walking through my door on my own, you know."

"But your England isn't safe for you."

Stupid he is not.

"You're supposed to be dead. You have people looking for you."

"Oh, Christopher Marlowe is still dead there. They'd only look for me if they knew I was there."

"It seems like quite a risk to take."

Peeking back through the door. Keeping his eyes on Marlowe's one good one. It takes effort, because he's (handsome, naked) missing an eye after all, and Darren isn't from a time when such things are common place.

"I could get you there."

A wry smile.

"I know. But it wouldn't be my time."

Darren disappears back into the room.

"It'd be something. And you wouldn't die."

He rolls his left eye and leans back in the tub.

"Darren, I have spent a lot of time not dying. I don't think a couple days will do me any harm."

He makes an agreeable sound and doesn't keep asking.

Silence, and then he laughs. This time, the sound is amused.

"What's funny?"

The sound of a page turning.

The sounds of Marlowe getting out of the bath.

"Life, shall we say."

"How very post-modernistic of you."

"Huh?"

"Never mind, Marlowe. Did you see a cat go out when you came in?"

He misses Faustus.

Drying off hair...

"Cat? No, I didn't."

"We had one. Or I did, I suppose."

Darren drops to his knees, to look under the bed.

"I don't know where he is now."

Towel off body a bit more, pull on pants.

"Didn't know you were in the business of picking up cats."

"Oh, I'm not. It just snuck in here somehow."

He sounds faintly wistful.

"He was good company."

Pull on shirt, quick brush through hair, and where did he put his eyepatch...

"Give him a name?"

"Godot."

Part of him wants to say 'Hamlet.'

Marlowe pulls his eyepatch on, and appears in the bathroom doorway.

"Godot?"