[ englishmen and mad dogs ; london ]

[didnothingwrong]

It's been an age since Alvo's rung him up, and longer still since the last time he saw him face to face. So, when Bax gets the call from Heathrow saying he's up for business, and wants to see the boys round the old pub before he heads back, Bax is eager to agree. Work's been shite lately, and it's made things at home tense.

A night away from the girls? Hell yes.


He's the first to show up, of course. Perhaps a bit too eager there, Bax. He snags their old table, a bit smug and all, and settles in for a pint.

The boys won't mind if he gets a head start.

Comments

[alvo]

One thing he doesn't miss at all about London is the weather. It's cold and damp and nothing like Spain.

But the backbeat and undertone of the city are ones he knows intimately, ones that seduce and comfort. The company will be good, familiar, and seeing old friends, even if it's just for a round or two at the pub, is better than not seeing them at all. A quick glance through the window shows him Bax is already here. Of course he is.

If he had two teen daughters -- thankfully, that's not his fate -- he'd be first to the pub every night.

"Bax. Good to see you." The words might sound stilted, but the smile on his face is genuine: it's been years.

[smilebigboy]

It's not that Woody minds really, going to a pub. He's doing pretty well these days and okay, so the first time he steps in he's always going to think no, I could do it, I could have just one pint but he also knows he can't. And it's not worth kicking up a fuss, not when he can hardly remember the last time he saw Alvo. Jen wasn't as happy about, doesn't like him going out when people are drinking, but he's not exactly going to pass this up, is he?

It's Bax he sees first at their old table, and then Alvo standing there as well. He looks good, Woody thinks. Tanned. Spain's been good for him. And god, it has been a while. For all of them. He's missed this.

He claps Alvo on the shoulder before sliding down into a chair and reaching over to do the same to Bax. "Been too long, hasn't it?"

[imholdingcereal]

Well he knew worst things to do with a day off, most of them involving watching terrible TV, This Morning sprung to mind, so did Countdown. A trip to the pub was probably not what his bank account needed but it was something, right? His social life boiled down to work, basically, and even then he didn't like the people he worked with. It didn't take long to get down there, he only lived twenty minutes away so there was no point in wasting petrol just to nip around to the local boozer.

It wasn't so much that he didn't want to go, it was more that spending time with Alvo was hard. It was fun but only in small little doses, it was why college had always been such a headache.

Normal conversations swiftly blew up into defensive arguments. But that was an inevitability he'd long since accepted that mates were there to not only amuse you but to do your head in. And Alvo happened to excel at the negatives.

Slipping inside, he approached the table with his hands in his pockets, offering them a half smile. It was nothing person, Quinn just wasn't a smiley sort of person, it didn't really suit him. "All right then, late to the party, am I?"

[didnothingwrong]

"Alvo."

He grins, rising from his seat to give him a manly hug. He's a bit on edge to be honest, but it's been too long to leave it at handshake. He claps his shoulder heartily. "All right, mate? Make it in one piece, did you?"

Woody gets close to the same, a fond "Woodster" and as close to a hug as he can get from across the table. It's been a while since he's seen him too, come to think of it. Not so long for Quinn, but he still nods and grins. "Just made it, mate. And we didn't even have to drag you down here."

Bit of progress, as far as Quinn and parties go.

[alvo]

It's like old times, with that same edge of familiar competition. Quinn is still gruff as ever. Bax looks pained in that I'm-not-pained sort of way he's got, and Woody is... well, Woody's just himself, isn't he.

"No Rick, I see. No matter." His eyes shift to Quinn, momentarily, but don't linger there. Probably just as well, and if he's smart about things he'll keep his mouth shut. But since when has he kept his mouth shut?

Well. He'll do his best to behave. It's been a long time since they've all been together and maybe this time it can go smoothly. "Glad to see all of you. I... um... I didn't have a lot of time for advance planning on this trip, so thanks for coming round on short notice. Drinks are on me, yeah?"

At least one of them looks as if they've done something successful with his life, and it's not any of his mates. In a pique of generosity, words he hadn't even thought to utter leave his mouth. "Whatever you want, as much as you want. For my friends, the world."

If he kicks himself for being sentimental, it doesn't show on his face. It really is good to see them.

[smilebigboy]

The night's only just started and there's already a little edge between Quinn and Alvo, a thin string of tension that makes Woody want to roll his eyes. But that's just the two of them. Sometimes he has to wonder if they like snipping away at each other.

But tonight's for catching up and not for fighting, and he hopes damn well they honour that. "Four out of five's not bad," he chips in.

Besides, Rick would've just added an extra layer of tension. Maybe they can have a peaceful time of it for once, especially if Alvo's buying. "Pretty generous of you, mate. Feeling flush?" He knows Alvo's doing well for himself -- lives in Spain, doesn't he? But the way he tosses it out like it doesn't mean a thing makes him wonder just how well-off Alvo's gotten in the last years. Years where Woody's been pissing away what cash he manages to make here and there.

He shakes off the thought like water, not tonight, "Just Coke for me, cheers."

[imholdingcereal]

"Well I had nothing better to do, thought I might get a drink out of it," Quinn joked as he nodded his head, dropping down in his seat and offering Alvo a sideways look. It was generous of him, he was almost certain there was no ulterior motive so why not? It saved him a good five quid instead of pissing it away on lager they probably watered down anyway. He knew that despite the clear flaunting of money that he should be happy for his old friend, and he was, Alvo didn't always mean to show off. Regardless of how irksome the bloke was, he did try to do the right thing.

No matter how much he utterly cocked up.

"I'll have a lager, if you're buyin', cheers."

Crossing his arms, he looked around the pub with vague interest, trying his best to seem relaxed and casual. Course his 'relaxed and casual' stance was much like his 'piss off I'm thinking' stance so the whole gesture was a bit mute.

[didnothingwrong]

"Well, you know Rick. Hard for him to fit in old mates last minute these days."

His smile is ill-fitting. A bit too wide, a bit too insincere. Alvo always did have a flair for the poetic, and a frustratingly easy go of things after uni. It's brilliant that he's doing well, really. Brilliant that he's come round to share the wealth on the less fortunate.

"Cheers, yeah. Another for me," he says, tilting his spent pint glass. "You're, uh. You're doing well then? Things in ... where in Spain are you now?"

[alvo]

"Well enough." He'll get drinks in a moment if someone doesn't come round, but in the meantime he just soaks in the brilliance of the moment. Here they are. Well, all save Rick, always was difficult for him to take the time away from whatever it is that's so important to him, but that's Rick's business.

"On the island. Mallorca, it's... it's so lovely there. Sunshine, the ocean, and the girls..." With a shrug, his voice trails off. "Yeah. I'm, um, loving it there, really. Ever thought of taking a trip in that direction, any of you?"

Distracted, he motions for a round.

"If you haven't, you should. One of these days, yeah?"

[smilebigboy]

Woody can't help but snort a laugh at Alvo, shakes his head and leans back with his hands behind his head. He's always had an eye for ladies and it seems Mallorca's agreeing with him on that front at least.

He shrugs, though. "Would that I could afford it." At least he's in a place where he can work, now, not getting plastered night after night and losing whatever job he could scrape for coming in hungover and late...but the cashflow's not exactly as strong as he'd like and things get tight, even with Jenny's contributions to rent and food and the like. "Maybe sometime, hey? Wouldn't mind a look at some'a those girls myself."

A quick grin.

[imholdingcereal]

Quinn raised an eyebrow. Perhaps Rick had doesn't the right thing and kept a distance for some great inconceivable that unfortunately flew over Quinns head... or, maybe, Rick just knew this was one giant excuse to show off. Either was, Quinn wasn't exactly jealous nor envious of the man's success, he just knew what was coming.

"Flying to Spains like, what? £400? Not bad."

Not that he was excepting the invitation, just theorising aloud. Dear God, if he ever went, he'd have to make sure everyone else was there or he might end up tossing himself into that lovely ocean Alvo spoke of.

[didnothingwrong]

"Yeah, not bad."

He pulls up his lower lip, making a face like that's all just small potatoes. He leans back to get comfortable, not to puff out his chest on purpose or anything like that, and grins wryly.

"I'll just hop on the next plane then, shall I? The girls would love that. Get me out of the house for a while."

They may not even want him to come back at all.

[alvo]

Right. Woody, honest as always, can't afford the trip. Quinn can't but pretends he can, and Bax is ready to be anywhere but here, or home. His hands rise, a defensive gesture if ever there was one, but the smile hasn't left his face or his eyes.

"Yes, you should, Bax. All of you should. Look, I don't... I don't mean to make a thing out of it by asking. It's just been a long time, yeah? A long time since I've seen any of you, and..."

And it's good to be back with the people who make him both most and least comfortable simultaneously. At least it's the same as ever. "We'll plan it, make it work, if you really want to. One of these days, when the time's right for everyone. A real holiday. I'm... it's just there's a place for you, for all of you, over there if you decide you want to get away from all this."

He nods behind, to the window, to the rain outside, to the cars on the street, to the people hurrying by with newspapers tucked beneath their arms and that familiar London dispassion on their faces as they try not to look one another in the eye. Fortunately for all of them, the conversation's interrupted by the arrival of drinks. Great panacea, drink: always has been. If he's curious about Woody's choice, far be it for him to mention anything aloud.

"So tell me. Tell me what I've been missing the past... what is it now, almost three years?"

[smilebigboy]

It's a tempting thought, Spain. Getting away. And Alvo's sincere as ever, offering without ever thinking about what he's offering. He's a good bloke. Always has been. Doesn't always have a great filter, brain to mouth, but it's not like that's not a common problem.

And getting away from everything, well. Tempting for all of them. He doesn't know how Bax copes with his daughters, and Quinn just always seems a little like he could use some unwinding. He shelves it away in the back of his head, that maybe a couple years down the road they'll find some way to join Alvo.

At Alvo's question though he shrugs, smiles a little. Runs a finger around the rim of his glass just for something to do with his hands. "Haven't missed much. Been seeing someone for a while, that's about it."

And he's struck, somehow, by how long it's been since him and the lads have had a chat, just sat down and talked, swapped stories over a pint. Long enough for so much to change for all of them -- he doesn't know half of what Quinn's doing, or Bax, doesn't even know his daughter's names or ages past 'teen' -- but not long enough for it to feel strange.

It's nice. In a way.

[imholdingcereal]

Quinn supposed that Alvo was being a good bloke, trying to set them up a holiday and everything, he wasn't going to fault the man on that. For all his arrogance and bravado, he just wanted to do good. Or so Quinn hoped, he made this mistake often, so much for old Aquinas's theories on man. Nodding his head, he picked up his drink and drank most of the top away so it was easy to pick it up and down without spilling.

What had been happening? Well, Quinn knew the gist of what Baxter was up too and mostly the issues Woody was tackling but he found himself a rather boring topic of discussion.

"Got a haircut."

Well... sort of. Did a trim count? Either way, it was very hard to tell the difference without measuring each strand.

[didnothingwrong]

Bax laughs, and shakes his head at Quinn.

"That's real generous of you, mate," he says, clapping Alvo on the shoulder. "Really. Yeah, someday."

Said with all the empty enthusiasm of a bloke who fantasizes about travelling the world and never actually does. Alvo's done well for himself, staying single and unencumbered all these years. Majorca sounds like a little slice of heaven. But these are the promises friends make, eh? Yeah, right, I'll come and see you sometime. It'll be grand.

"Yeah, you know. Things are well. Emma and Lindsey are growing up fast. The firm's doing well." He's lying, as evidenced by the way he fidgets after saying it. "Busy and all. Just staying above water."

A quick grin, and a swig off his pint. Alvo's not the only one with success. Not the only one wanted. Bax can pretend as much.

[alvo]

Right. So everyone's got secrets, is that it? That's not difficult to fathom; he's got secrets too. A long-ago conversation wedges itself into his memory. A girlfriend, Lucie was her name, sitting on a bench with an unfortunate view of the Tate. What's the point, Alvo, she asked, when you don't tell me what you're thinking and I don't tell you what I'm thinking? His answer was brief, filled with sudden realisation: no point, Lucie, I'll walk you home, then? and that was that. Human nature being what it is, that's a mistake he's not particularly eager to make again here.

But honestly. "A haircut, Quinn? That's all, then? It must be an exciting life you're leading."

He shouldn't, but the words fall out and as always, he shrugs them back. "And Woody's quietly seeing someone whose name he's not giving up -- well done, well done -- and Bax's girls are getting to that age where they'll be asking for the car keys, won't they, lucky thing business is booming. And it's damp and cold here. I say that's all worth drinking to. Come on, yeah?" He lifts his glass. "To you three. And to absent friends." If Rick had managed to be here, it's quite possible there would be actual fireworks and he's tempted to ask Quinn if he's seen Nina, but even he's not that big a fool.

At least the ale is decent enough. Get a few rounds in all of them, and he might have an idea to put forward. See how it suits these three.

[smilebigboy]

He's still Alvo. Prickly around the edges because that's just how he is, mouth sharp enough to cut yourself as his mother used to say. Woody can't help but snicker a little bit though because -- well. It's true. They haven't seen each other since forever, pretty much, and that's all they've got to say. A girlfriend, a haircut, children aging. Enough's passed that he figures even if Alvo promised to shut up for an hour and let them all speak no one would really know what to say.

Maybe it's better that way. Judging by Bax's look there's something he doesn't want to talk about or have known and he could never call Quinn an oversharer. Rick maybe, if he were here, but he's not.

Still he grins as he raises his own glass, dropping one shoulder in a half-shrug. "Her name's Jenny. But you, you've got to have some stories, hey? Out tripping the light fantastic, living the life..."

[imholdingcereal]

"I like my life."

Downing the rest of his drink, he sat back in his chair and calmly relaxed himself, not willing to seriously get into a fight because it wasn't what he needed right now and he was sure no one else fancied another sniping match... still, he wasn't going to roll over and leave it.

"I'll admit, it's not as fun as pissing away all your money on overpriced nonsense but it's pretty much what you expect from life, isn't it?" a normal life anyway where things went normally with no lucky deals or Spanish homes. Nope, Quinns view of life was that after birth, it's pretty much all down hill till death spares people from the misery of continual existence.

Grim? Yes. But it wasn't unrealistic.

[didnothingwrong]

'Mouth sharp enough to cut yourself.' Yeah, that's not so bad a way of putting it; Alvo's always had a knack for knowing where to stick the needle to deflate Bax a bit. He stares at him evenly. It's not a glare — he's still grinning, in fact — just a long, hard look while he thinks over what he wants to say.

Quinn's remarks calm him down a bit. He stares at his pint and laughs. Just a breath, really. An incredulous little chortle, and a shake of his head. He picks up his glass and toasts.

"Yeah, I'm in the shit compared to you, am I? That's all right. Way it's always been, eh? Things change after uni."

A lot of things. Maybe more than he even realized before. He's not that skinny little piss-head any more. They all had a lot more in common back then.

"But, eh, I like my life, too. Never had your touch, Alvo, but I did all right with two girls. I'll be keeping the car keys for a while yet."

[alvo]

He's not that bad, is he? Well, yes, he is, but come on, it's been years and everyone needs to lighten up. Life's serious enough without this reunion turning into some sort of misery pissing contest, isn't it?

"You know, Bax, I never had the touch. Not of any kind." Look at him: nearing forty, no one in his life who cares. "But if you think I have, then I'm a bigger success than I knew." Laughing, he raises his glass to each of his mates in turn. "You're all a bunch of bastards, you know that, don't you? Don't worry, I include myself in the count."

He could list their endearing qualities off the top of his head: Quinn takes himself so seriously, not that he's ever had a lot to laugh about but it suits him. Someone's got to be the serious one. Bax lies, always has, and if he wanted to play shrink he could say it's because he's never valued himself the way he ought to do: he's got so much heart, Bax. And Woody, tightly-wound and self-effacing, but the most open and honest of any of them. As far as his own flaws go, he's a pain in the arse, too quick to hold up the mirror to everyone's face but his own, but that's only because he knows where he falls down. That's not something he's willing to spend time thinking on, not at the moment.

If Rick was here, he'd be oblivious as always. It's not that he's stupid -- anything but -- although he gives off a good impression. Still, people see something in him, and he's got that open gregarious cheerful scorn thing going, and he pulls it off so convincingly.

"Look, I... I know it's been a long time. You want to hear stories? I can tell you stories. But they're only going to make you want to join me on the island, and I honestly don't know if I can stand the idea of none of you being over there with me. Or of all of you being over there with me."

It's just a backwards way of inviting them, yet again. He might not miss London, but he misses them. Maybe by the end of the next round they'll start to realize that.

[smilebigboy]

That's Quinn and Bax, all right. Quinn with the backhanded sniping but still relaxed, keeping the mood light and easy. In a lot of ways he's always been the keel of their group. Always keeping things in mind. Always watching. Touchy sometimes, maybe, but he settles them and draws them together with comments as sharp as Alvo's.

And then Bax, steady with his family. He's maybe the most changed, and the least. It's strange seeing him tonight and thinking father, businessman. And not just thinking, but seeing. He looks...older. Not old, but an adult. Sometimes Woody still sees a spotty teen when he looks at Alvo, at Rick -- not so much at Quinn but when he was a spotty teen he already looked like an adult -- but Bax has changed.

Grown up. Like everyone else.

Still. "Not as bad as all that, is it?" Woody fiddles with his glass, drags a finger around the rim and watches Alvo curiously from under his eyebrows. "You must have mates there, yeah?"

[imholdingcereal]

It was oddly sweet and very fucked up how Alvo was lately. The bloke ground on his last nerve, talk down to him and annoyed everyone in his own special way and yet among all the bullshit and bollocks the bastards spouted out, there was some real goodness that sparked there. Just a lonely bloke who has no mates, little sad really.

Though just because he was a miserable bastard didn't mean Quinn would let him get away with anything. He was a miserable bastard as well and Alvo never cut him any slack. But, well, lead by example.

"We should organise a date," Quinn remarked, speaking of the visit of course. That was, by large, his contribution here. He didn't want to handle the actual planning but if it stopped Alvos 'bastard' speeches, it was fine by him. "You'll have to translate, mind, never could be arsed to learn another language."

He didn't get how Alvo could when he still couldn't get basic English right half the time.

[didnothingwrong]

"Oh, come on," Bax says, drawing the syllables out through a grim smile, like he's shouting at a footie match. "Sure, you're successful. Living the high life, your own villa — you probably own half the island by now, eh?"

He's never been good at letting things go. Even if the daggers aren't in his eyes any longer, there's still a bite behind his smile. Bax, he grew up, sure. Studied his fucking life away, had a family, played the dog's body to get where he is. And where is he? Alvo's the one with the money and the estate and the party life, and Bax is going grey putting enough away for Lindsey and Emma to make it through uni.

Fucking hell.

"Yeah," he says, all enthusiasm now. Takes a pull off his pint, says it again. "Yeah, you make the plans, Alvo. Four of us and Rick, we'll have ourselves a proper reunion, eh? Quinn and I will sit in the cantinas and sample the Spanish wines, while you talk us up to the señoritas."

[alvo]

"A third of the island, Bax, not half." Even if it's a joke, real estate's not a bad way to go. At least it keeps the wolves from the door, not that the ones in Spain are any more or less threatening than the ones here. "And I'll tell you what: you're on. I'll make the plans." Not to rub things in, but, well, someone's got to get the thing started. "Send you the tickets. Send a car round to the aeropuerto. Take you to the best cantinas, hook you up with all the señoritas you want and I won't even tell a soul about it." A soul here, he means.

"We'll do it, yeah? I've got a trip scheduled to the mainland coming up, but as soon as I'm back, I'll do it. With one caveat: that none of you back out of the trip." He accentuates that with a raise of one eyebrow, by pointing round the table to each of them in turn.

"It's lovely there in the summertime. Do we have a deal, then?"

Their faces: bless, look at their faces. All of them. Each and every one of them shows his feelings in a completely different way. It's why they've always worked so well together, even while they've been at odds.

[smilebigboy]

Oh, and there's an idea. Woody sips at his Coke and lets his eyes go far away for a moment, imagining it. Sea and sun and surf, pretty ladies -- not that he'd do anything but look but looking isn't against any rules that he knows of -- good food, good company (if no one kills anyone else within five minutes, a cynical part of his mind pipes up). Relaxation. Not a care in the world.

Money, of course. He has to think about money but unless he's pretty damn confused that's what Alvo's offering. Tickets, transportation, whatever they need. He might even have a job by then. Little extra pocket change and if not, well.

His face splits in a grin and he leans back, taps his fingers on the table. "It's a deal by me. Couldn't let you rattle about all lonely up there, could we?"

He hopes the others will agree. They will, he thinks. They might fight it -- Rick won't, but Bax maybe with his girls, and Quinn being Quinn but -- no, he thinks, they'll come. And if they don't, well. He and Alvo are close. Always have been. Maybe he'll try and find some way up on his own, if he can.

[imholdingcereal]

Quinn tilted his chair back, he knew there would be some sort of condition, made sense really but he'd been hoping that Alvo wouldn't put one on the trip. Well, either way, he wasn't going to be the one to call Rick. Not that he hated the bloke or anything, he just didn't fancy having his conversation again.

"Fine."

Ah, a true man of many words. Quinn sipped his pint and let his chair fall back down, he was never one to be overly elaborate when it came to situations like this, it was both a failing and a skill he had. His daughters hated it, his work colleagues loved it. Course he was capable of being elaborate when it came to talking about the unnecessary. Just part of being a lecturer.

"You'll have to ring me whenever you lot have a date."

[didnothingwrong]

He laughs like he has no idea what Alvo is on about.

"Yeah, all right. You've got a deal."

He means it, too. If any of them actually get around to doing anything about it, which — let's face it — isn't very likely. Bax won't be the first to back down. It'll take some convincing to get the missus to agree, but he's had plenty of practise at that already. Convincing her to trust him, not to fight around the girls, not to spend so much.

"I'll even call Rick," he says, like a bolt out of the blue. "Yeah, not a problem. I've been meaning to call him anyway."

He scratches his nose and shifts a little uncomfortably. Not that he's about to say any more on that. He smiles blandly, and nods to Quinn.

"So long as you wouldn't rather the honour, eh?"

[alvo]

"So long as someone calls him. If you change your mind on that, Bax, I'll do it myself."

Sometimes, the old exasperations come back with a vengeance: he wishes Quinn wouldn't be so bloody taciturn. That he would smile, stop being such a prick on general principle. He wishes Woody would say what he's thinking -- he can see the processing going on, but the words are few and far between, although he's good-natured -- and he wishes Bax wouldn't be so accommodating. But he has to chalk that up to parenting teen daughters, something he's never been brave enough to so much as contemplate. Even though he's absent at the moment, he wishes Rick wouldn't stick in their craws the way he does, but the group wouldn't be the same without him. It wouldn't. It takes the lot of them to make whatever sort of whole... um... entity they are.

There's only one thing to say, now he's made the offer. It'll be a chunk of cash out of his bank account, not theirs: a holiday should be fun. It shouldn't present any sort of hardship.

"All right, then. It's about time you" -- he lifts his glass to each of them in turn -- "got a taste of my corner of the world."

In every sense of the word. He's well aware this holiday could take years to plan, people being who they are, schedules being what they are. As long as he knows it's going to take place eventually, he has something to focus on beyond the everyday business of pretending to love every fucking thing about Spain, beyond keeping up appearances, beyond the hollowness of the life he's carved out for himself. Whether he plays host to his friends in five weeks or five months or five years, he has that to look forward to.

Without being maudlin, he would say he loves them all very much. It's something he wouldn't ever give voice to, though.

[smilebigboy]

Woody lifts his glass back, smiles without a word and finishes the last of his soda. Swirls the ice cubes for a moment and listens to them clink against the bottom, privately glad that they're already got Rick covered. They...well, they get along and hell, there was a time where they were probably the closest together, during their wilder days. And he still likes him, they're mates. The whole group are.

It's just, well. Sometimes he's hard to talk to. Moreso these days, it seems. Just as well that Bax or Alvo does it. Anyhow it sounds like they're all decided and well he figures there's a more than good chance it's just a pipe dream, something they'll talk about for months and years without ever seeing it come to pass, it's a nice thought. A fun dream.

He taps his fingers over the table again, knows he's spent more of the evening absorbed in his own thoughts than he has chatting. Not that he's chatty usually. He's never seen the point in going on without really saying anything, and he's never had the gift of gab the way some have.

So he doesn't say anything else, just sits back and watches, and listens, and thinks that for all it's a little rough around the edges this is one of those moments he wants to keep in his mind for as long as he can.

[imholdingcereal]

Quinn half lifts his glass, not big on giant displays of affection. Yes, he did care for each of them greatly and while admittedly he got on better with some more than others, they were his only friends. He wasn't a social bloke, he probably wouldn't ever make any more so he didn't have many reasons to avoid them. Sometimes he just accepted that everyone had flaws and it helped him relax. Some sort of weird Zen-y thing perhaps?

"I'm sure Bax can handle Rick and we can handle ourselves, little telephone tree, it won't be hard to set up. Got three weeks of leave a year, won't be longer than a week I suppose?"

Reasonable amount of time to be in a foreign country and it should be enough time that he won't want to choke Alvo... well, perhaps not. Might be two days into it before that happens but still, he only had to stay as he was. He knew his stoic manner got right under the other mans skin.

He shouldn't find that so amusing but he does.

[didnothingwrong]

They're a bunch of shriveled old bellends, is what they are. God, how did it happen? He swears he can remember a time when he wasn't in bed by half ten, and a thrilling Saturday night involved more than watching the National Lottery and trimming grey hairs out of his ears. He can remember when Alvo was still awkward around girls, and Rick was still fun at parties. Thinks he can even remember what it was like to see Quinn smile, if he really strains himself.

"Before we get a taste of your world, we have the matter of tonight at hand." He finishes off his pint, regarding the three of them in turn. "Come on, lads! I've got a whole night free of the girls. We're not going to spend the whole thing pissing on about ... haircuts and damp weather, are we?"

At the very least, he can hold his own at darts. Sort of.

"Alvo, what are your plans while you're here? It's only a day or two, isn't it?

[alvo]

"A week, then." That ought to work. It shouldn't be long enough for them to have to resort to violence against one another, although he only gives them a day or two before they start thinking about it. But that's why Mallorca is such a beautiful distraction. Girls. Wine. Water. Beach. Sun. Drugs for the taking. "A week to play. Make sure your passports are in order."

That's enough on that. Bax is right; they have the matter of tonight at hand and now it's his turn to talk about himself. Over the years, it's something he's been reticent to do. Even more so since he moved to Spain, in part because he's certain nobody really wants to hear what he has to say, in part because there are things he shouldn't tell anybody. That's his business, of course, and that's what Bax is getting at, isn't it.

His business. "While I'm here? So much fun. Banking, for the most part, and a bit of business with my solicitor." He lifts his glass, drains it, sets it down. "And see you sorry excuses for friends, of course. But that's it, nothing very romantic, nothing of the sort."

[smilebigboy]

"Sounds amazing." Woody's voice is drier than the Sahara as he leans back in his chair and continues to play with his empty glass, lopsided grin playing around his lips. Really, they can't get away from the fact that they've all turned into a bunch of old farts somehow, content to sit and bitch over a beer about visiting each other. And Alvo, who he'd always half-wondered would be the one to never grow up, coming over from the life he'd carved out to bank? It's all ridiculous.

"Bax's right, though. Ought to do something." He casts his mind briefly around and can't particularly think of anything but that can be for the others. He's not exactly known for being the ideas-man anyway. "Unless you're really excited for a wild night of banking."

He'll go along with whatever they decide, he figures. Sometimes it feels like he never came to much harm following the boys -- it was just when he went off on his own, that was when the problems came up. That's all in the past, now. Youth and youth's mistakes are gone (still close enough for him to feel the ache sometimes but he ignores that) and he's about as responsible as the rest, now.

Well.

Getting there.

[imholdingcereal]

"Oi!" he was sure that haircut comment was aimed at him and frankly, he didn't approve. His hair was wonderfully short and even, you could bloody well measure the length and find it was perfect. But sadly they were a bunch of blokes in their forties and while some, like Quinn, accept this and spend their evenings watching 'Come dine with me', listening to out-dated rock and failed pathetically to connect to the youth of today.

Then there was these lots, desperately clinging to their youth in an attempt to prove themselves still who they were. Quinn rolled his eyes at the very idea. A night of drinking, pretending they fit in and the girls they were hitting on weren't young enough to be their children and then spending the next few days in bed with a hang over. Fantastic.

Frankly Quinn would rather go to a retirement home for the weekend and hang out with the old dearies.

"If we're doing something we have to mutually agree it won't be a bloody nightclub, a 'trendy' bar or watching one another embarrassingly fail at picking up a women," And yes, he was looking at Baxter for that one but he couldn't help it. He didn't like this fight for youth, he would happily accept watching the footie, perhaps partaking in some wine or other low energy activities.

Well... one could hope?