nysalogs | [semi-closed]

That is an excellent question--

[--and this is a pre-planned interlude--]

--to which I have two reasonably good answers.

[Which are the bottles, which he holds up -- behold -- before stepping inside. A more tactful man might ask if it's all right that he's here in the first place, but when Dirk has his mind set on something tact tends to fall by the wayside. At least he hasn't climbed in her window.

He glances about with open curiosity, taking in the decor. It's nicer than his place in some ways, but it isn't where he lives, isn't what he's come tentatively to call home, and so he can't say the fact that it's nicer causes him much concern. Still, it's good to know Claire is somewhere comfortable.]

I was thinking.

[Uh-oh, says Todd, somewhere in the back of Dirk's brain.]

We've both had a bit of a time of it lately and if given the opportunity to not have a time of it we ought to seize it. I was also thinking I could very much use a drink and had an inkling you might want in on that particular enterprise.

[Like Claire would deny anyone holding not one, but two bottles of alcohol. She follows him in, grabbing two glasses from a decanter set that came along with her from her old flat. Sure, they could just drink from the bottles, but god forbid one of the Starks come home and her respectable reputation is tarnished.]

I knew you were smart. [Putting it mildly. She's agreeing on all fronts, and touches his arm to guide him to the sofa.] And I'm glad you thought of me.

[Resident booze hound, Claire Fraser. Maybe not as much these days, but she still enjoys the occasional mouthful of alcohol to bury whatever it is she's feeling.]

Any more clever ideas? I've got food, if you're so inclined.

Oh, please. My friend Claire is never far from my mind.

[Dirk presses a hand to his heart as though wounded by the very suggestion as he makes his way to the sofa, plunking the bottles down onto the table and himself down onto the cushions with relish. He inclines his head to watch Claire make her own way through the space, his expression open and bright. A bit determined -- he very much means to keep it that way, this time.]

Food might become advisable but I think I'm all right for now.

[It really depends on how much of this they're going to be drinking how quickly -- though a part of Dirk thinks he ought to take advantage of the offer anyway, if just to spare himself his own cooking, the already dubious quality of which is prone to degrading further when he's stressed.]

I've also got-- well, I don't know if it's clever, exactly, but I've something to celebrate. That should get us going.

Oh? What is it?

[Without a need to duck into the kitchen, she sits next to him, one leg crossing over the other as she sits back. Just for a moment--in the next, she decides she should open one of those bottles and get to pouring. No need to wait, is there?]

[Absolutely no need to wait. Dirk's smile widens and he shifts happily in his seat, settling eagerly in for the main event.]

I'm refounding the detective agency. Mine. My detective agency. Here in Olympia. I've decided.

[It's been under consideration for a while now, but Dirk had previously been hesitant to break his surprisingly successful streak of... well, living here isn't normal and it certainly hasn't been safe or quiet or any of the other things one might normally associate with words like 'laying low', but that is nonetheless what he's been attempting and it has, by his standards, very nearly almost worked out.

It doesn't feel right though. With these new memories least of all.]

[Claire's brows lift. A detective agency, in Olympia? Well, why not--there are quite a few mysteries now and then, and she can imagine there might be one or two among them that's been waiting for something like this.]

Really? That's certainly a reason to drink, then. [With a smile, she hands him the first glass, then fills the other for herself.] Cheers, then, to...

[What's he calling it? Is there a special name?]

[Dirk takes his glass with a wide smile and a quirk of the brow, lifting it in a toast when prompted.]

Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency. Cases solved with arguable efficiency.

[Said like an actual tagline, like he's not just dead serious but deeply pleased with that particular turn of phrase. Which he is. It's accurate, anyway.

Dirk isn't very good at self-promotion.

Still. Still, the agency is -- was -- his proudest accomplishment, and worth resurrecting. He clinks his glass against hers and downs an enthusiastic mouthful.]

You know, I'm always in the market for... well, employees is a strong word. I don't exactly have the means to pay you. Associates?

[A beat, and Dirk wrinkles his nose, taking another small sip and pondering the pleasant, boozy warmth slowly unfurling in his gut.]

Friends?

You certainly have me as a friend, always. [She laughs, a little baffled. Her? Working for detective agency? It doesn't quite fit, in her mind, at least not at the image that immediately is conjured up by the offer.]

I'm no detective, but if you're ever in need of medical advice, I'm always available to you. And medical care, of course, but I do hope it's never needed.

[He better stay out of trouble.]

[Dirk and 'out of trouble' are unfortunately in an on-again, off-again relationship which in spite of the wishes of either party and much wistful yearning generally ends up being more off than on. He has also been shot alarmingly many times in an equally alarmingly short span of time, so it's entirely possible that that offer will become relevant.]

According to some people I'm not a detective either.

[Said archly, with a terse little sip of his drink -- can you believe it? That statement doesn't sting as much as it once did, but he's still offended in principle.]

That's probably for the best, though. I mean, not that it being for the best or your not being a detective actually matters in the slightest if you're meant to be involved, but I'd best not drag you in, come to think of it. My cases do seem to involve an alarming amount of being shot at lately.

[He just wants to collect everyone he loves in the same general place. It's more convenient.]

[Claire's in the midst of taking a drink when he so kindly informs her of that. She almost chokes.]

If you're planning on getting shot at, that's not going to deter me, you know. You'll have my help whether you want it or not, Dirk Gently, but you'll be getting an earful if you do manage to get injured.

[So, please don't. Claire actually doesn't enjoy getting upset and lecturing, contrary to popular belief.]

Well it's never planned!

[He has the decency to sound offended at that, at least, and he gives her knee a gentle bump with his own. Terribly rude. It might carry more weight if he weren't still smiling.]

It's one of those things that just sort of happens when you're me. I certainly won't go out of my way to get shot, how about that? Only nice, quiet cases from kindly old ladies with missing... cats, or whatever.

[Whatever the local equivalent is.]

Dirk, if you knew the number of times I've heard that...

[Yet she smiles, giving his knee a nudge back. With the number of times she's heard it, she's an expert in dealing with the consequences of those so unfortunate as to always be found by trouble.]

But, I suppose as long as you try to stay in one piece so I don't have to stick bits back on, that's all right.

[semi-closed]

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