bakerstreet | (no subject)

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THE SUDDENLY ASLEEP MEME

Options

1. Exhaustion - Maybe you haven't been sleeping well lately, maybe you've had a stressful day at work. Either way, you just can't keep your eyes open, and any surface/person/animal looks comfortable

2. Magic - Maybe you shouldn't have annoyed that wizard! Be it in the middle of a fight, or a time-delay to sometime more inconvenient, you just fall asleep where you stand.

3. Illness - You're sick, and the sickness is draining all your energy. Are you drifting off in bed, or doing something you shouldn't be when under the weather. Maybe you're actually narcoleptic.

4. Drugged - Oh no! I never should have drank those chemicals. Or, perhaps, you've got an enemy with access to weird and exotic poisons, or a vindictive roommate. Maybe you shouldn't have drank the last soda.

5. Boredom - Wow, this mission briefing is really boring, or maybe you can't bear to listen to your friend recounting the one-night fling he had with a botanist in Switzerland. Either way, you're sat there and dozing off in your chair.

6. Drunk - Had one too many? Not enough?

7. Anything else? The more awkward or annoying the better!

Instructions

1. Post with your character (note the name and fandom in the subject).
2. Other people reply to you by generating a number from 1 to 6. You can use RNG or just choose.
3. Have fun!

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Gamble just stares at his ex-partner for a long while.

"You didn't sell me out?" Was all of this pointless?

Even though Gamble's cuffed, it's still risky business getting too close to him, but slowly Jim slides down to sit next to him.

"You weren't just my partner, you know. You were my friend, and friends don't sell each other out, especially not to assholes like Fuller."

It takes a moment for Brian to process...

...And utterly reject. He jerks away from Jim, trying to shuffle away from him.

"Fuck off. You've probably rehearsed that."

He looks pretty pitiful, with the cuffed arm, the broken arm, and the dirty, disheveled look he's picked up. He's too drained, too weak to actually fight back physically.

"Whatever, man. Believe what you want." Jim's voice is terse again, belying the seemingly nonchalant roll of his shoulders. He could say more than he has, a lot more, but he knows from experience just how stubborn Gamble can be. Trying to convince Brian of anything has always been an exercise in frustration and futility, and Jim would rather not waste the air. Or his own patience.

"And you look like shit." Street rubs a hand down his face and winces as his fingers encounter the bruises under his eyes. "I feel like shit."

"Just another day at the office."

Gamble will take a lot of convincing. He's always been a stubborn hot-head, always will be. Jim is going to have to be patient... Or turn him in.

"So, is this some kinda perverted sex fantasy?"

Of course, Brian doesn't help things.

It takes a long moment for the question to register, but once it does, Jim snatches his fingers away from the bridge of his nose and shoots Brian a look of what should be appropriately baffled disgust.

"What? Where did you--no, I don't even want to know."

Gamble grins slightly. Getting to Jim is always worth it.

He seems to be fighting for conciousness, even as he speaks, his words slurring slightly.

"So, what? A pet? Your own little pit-bull?"

It's the small quirk of Brian's lips that gives Jim reason enough to almost relax again. Relax being a relative term here, of course, since whatever relationship he and Gamble have now is certainly not the friendship that it used to be.

"Bastard," Jim snorts, but there's a distinct lack of true heat behind the insult. "If I wanted a dog, I'd get a real pit rather than stare at your ugly mug every day."

Abruptly, he leans over and snaps his fingers in Brian's face. "And don't you dare go to sleep on me, Gamble. You're going to get your ass in the shower first before you crash anywhere."

Which snaps Brian's attention back to his former partner. He chuckles. "You're an idiot, Jimbo. The second you uncuff me, I'm gone."

Or he'll try. He's kinda... spacey right now. His eyes are very unfocused the longer he stays awake...

"And I'll be fucked if you're watching me shower."

"You and the shower door?" Because don't think for a second that Jim won't make good on his implicit threat and slap the other end of those cuffs around the metal bar on one of the sliding glass doors. "And I have better things to do than babysit you in the shower." Like double-checking to make sure that all of his firearms are out of sight and locked away.

"Don't even think about kicking me again, either," Street warns, reaching down to hoist Brian to his feet. "Now can you walk, or do I need to carry you?"

Gamble tries to shove Jim off him, but ends up wincing at his broken arm. The limb was in an improvised sling made from the remains of his tac-vest, but he's on his feet. "Next time you kidnap someone, make sure you take the steel-lined boots off."

He pulls back from Street, shooting him a glare. "I can walk. Not a baby."

"God, you're bossy. No wonder you never could get a second date."

When Brian twitches and tries to shrug him off, Jim's grip only tightens around Gamble's good arm, the response purely reflexive from years of having to manhandle unwilling, struggling suspects.

Fine, though. If Brian wants to do this on his own, then Jim will let him, within reason. He resists the urge to shove Gamble forward as he lets him go, opting to nod down the hallway instead. "Go ahead then. You know where the shower is."

Gamble shoots a glare back at Jim, but starts walking, mostly in a straight line, despite the dizzyness and pain. It's like being drunk, but without the plus side of getting laid.

He walks to the bathroom, turning around and effectively blocking Jim's entrance. "I can shower myself."

Honestly, Jim's been bordering on the edge of exhaustion for more hours than he cares to count. Now that the adrenaline has worn off, it's like running on fumes just to move. That might also explain why Street is rising to the bait more often than he should.

"Good for you," he replies dryly to Gamble's statement. "Do you want a medal for that?"

Reaching into the linen closet, he pulls out a clean towel and holds it out to Brian. "Are you going to be a dick about things, or can I leave you uncuffed in the shower?"

Maybe he's going to be a dick about it, because the second that Jim's hands are busy, he's going to grab for his neck.

Shit. Jim twists as soon as he sees Brian shift on his feet, but the hallway is just narrow enough that he can't completely evade the hands reaching for his throat. He can, however, pivot the handful of necessary degrees in order to launch his elbow backwards and hopefully land a hit on Gamble.

Brian's slow. Too slow. The blood-loss has made his movements sluggish as all hell. The elbow catches him in the chest and he's knocked back into the wall.

He slides down to the floor again, panting. "Damn it..."

Gingerly, Jim uncurls his fingers from the fist he had unconsciously made when he threw his elbow back. There's a brighter spot of blood on the once-white bandage wrapped around the palm of his right hand, but Street ignores it in lieu of roughly hauling Brian to his feet again and slamming him back against the nearest wall.

"What the fuck was that all about?"

[[ooc: It's almost 1:30 over here in California, and I really should be getting in bed. I'm having an absolute blast, though, and I'll definitely be back tomorrow! :)]]

Edited 2013-05-25 08:25 (UTC)

Gamble grunts as he's shoved against a wall, wincing. Damn it...

"You think we can just go back to how it was? You think this was just another rough night in the bars?" He laughs, weakly. "Give it up. Either kill me, or turn me in. Don't keep up the buddy cop act, Jimbo."

There's a sort of desperation in his voice. Almost as if he wants to be turned in, to be put out of his misery.

((OOC: And it's 09:30 here in sunny England. I should fix food. I'll be here. Loving this so far!))

In the five years that they were partners together, Street has heard that desperate note in Gamble's voice only two other times, and in both cases, any semblance of sobriety had been conveniently excluded. Even now, Jim's not sure if this is really Brian talking, or if his injuries and fatigue are simply getting the best of him and his mouth.

"Kill you or turn you in, huh?" Jim huffs out something that might have been a laugh if it weren't so bitter. "So either your blood's on my hands, or I sell you out for real this time. Is that really what you want, Brian?"

There's a frustrated growl from the other man as he struggles against Jim's grip. Brian doesn't meet his eyes this time...

"Those are the only two options."

It takes a lot to take control of Gamble's mouth from his brain, and the injuries, the pain, the disappointment he feel from Jim... Then there's the anger, the seething,, bubbling anger, before another wave of pain cools it.

He doesn't know what to do, or who to help him.

Edited 2013-05-26 00:58 (UTC)

"Bullshit." He's damning himself as he says it, but there is a third option. There always has been a third option.

And Jim's serious. If Gamble will just look him in the eye again, he'll see what Street means. The keys to the cuffs are already there in Jim's hand; all Brian has to do is reach out and take them.

Brian's eyes fix on the handcuff keys first, the first thought going through his mind is how easy it would be to take, to incapacitate Jim, and be on his way out of here...

He looks up, meeting his former partner's eyes, finally, seeing the sincerety there. He looks away again. "Damn it, Street." He mutters. "I just tried to kill you, and you're letting me go? I tried to kill all of you."

"I wasn't exactly love-tapping you, either, back at the train yard," Jim points out, carefully leaning back just enough to let Gamble have a fractional amount of personal space again.

There is a glaring flaw in Street's rationale, however: that one remaining bullet. If Jim had truly wanted to off Gamble -- or hell, at least incapacitate him -- he could have done so right then and there. But he hadn't...

Edited 2013-05-26 06:48 (UTC)

The second that Jim backs off, Brian slides down to the floor at his feet. "You know what I mean. Stop playing the dumb shit."

That thought has occured to Gamble, and he looks up at Jim. "Why didn't you shoot me? Why are you doing this? What's in this for you?"

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I amused myself far too much with that tag.

I think it hit a little close to home for Jim. *shifty eyes*

Gamble's good at that.

So I see. XD

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I think it hit a little close to home for Jim. shifty eyes