[Dirk takes the question in stride, raising his eyebrows mid-chorus -- a nod to John's clearly unmatched powers of observation -- and holding up a finger. We'll get to that. It isn't as though it's an invalid question and it's one he'll be happy to answer in due time. Not just yet, though. This is a song worth... well, maybe not singing all the way through, that remains to be seen, but at least brought to a satisfactory closing point.
Which means he's got plenty of time to play it up. Drift closer, clasp and unclasp hands; it's far too much and Dirk knows it, and the smile he's wearing proves that he does. If he thought he could get away with it he might even try dancing John about their little flat, but he's not that drunk. It's entirely possible that he's never in his life been that drunk. A teasingly heartfelt serenade is best performed from a safe distance, just in case.
It's also beat not to overstay one's welcome, though, and so he wraps up in short order, sketching a wobbly, halfassed bow with an equally perfunctory flourish at the closing of the next chorus.]
John Watson, I want you to know, you saved my life, probably.
[At very least he might well have ended up squashed under an escape pod their very first night on this planet had John not come and scraped him up off the dirt. Aside from that this is probably excessively generous. It is, more importantly, a peace offering -- and heartfelt, even if the sentiment is amplified through the influence of alcohol.]
Listen: yes, I am.
[They may as well be honest about this.]
But I ask you: must a man be drunk to demonstrate sincere and, I think you'll agree, heartwarming appreciation for his friends? I believe not. Terribly presumptuous of you.
['Presumptuous' has a bit of difficulty making it out of his mouth, and he frowns around the vaguely presumptuous-shaped collection of noises that do escape him.]
no subject
We'll get to that. It isn't as though it's an invalid question and it's one he'll be happy to answer in due time. Not just yet, though. This is a song worth... well, maybe not singing all the way through, that remains to be seen, but at least brought to a satisfactory closing point.
Which means he's got plenty of time to play it up. Drift closer, clasp and unclasp hands; it's far too much and Dirk knows it, and the smile he's wearing proves that he does. If he thought he could get away with it he might even try dancing John about their little flat, but he's not that drunk. It's entirely possible that he's never in his life been that drunk. A teasingly heartfelt serenade is best performed from a safe distance, just in case.
It's also beat not to overstay one's welcome, though, and so he wraps up in short order, sketching a wobbly, halfassed bow with an equally perfunctory flourish at the closing of the next chorus.]
John Watson, I want you to know, you saved my life, probably.
[At very least he might well have ended up squashed under an escape pod their very first night on this planet had John not come and scraped him up off the dirt. Aside from that this is probably excessively generous. It is, more importantly, a peace offering -- and heartfelt, even if the sentiment is amplified through the influence of alcohol.]
Listen: yes, I am.
[They may as well be honest about this.]
But I ask you: must a man be drunk to demonstrate sincere and, I think you'll agree, heartwarming appreciation for his friends? I believe not. Terribly presumptuous of you.
['Presumptuous' has a bit of difficulty making it out of his mouth, and he frowns around the vaguely presumptuous-shaped collection of noises that do escape him.]