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in Milliways

Rich Brook enjoys filming for The Storyteller. He honestly does. It may not be the role of a lifetime, but he could do worse than to spend the day reading fairy tales to kids.

He's always liked fairy tales.

Still, when Milliways pops up during a break in filming, he doesn't turn it down. He glances back over his shoulder first; then, when no one else seems to see anything amiss, he goes in.

At the Bar, he asks for a club soda with lime. He could have something stronger if he liked - with time stopped at home, no one would be the wiser - but it seems wrong for the Storyteller to drink while he's technically on duty.

[OOC: For clarity, Jim is in character as Rich, and will be making a much stronger effort to remain in character than he usually does in Milliways. And yes, he really is coming in from filming. DVDs don't make themselves.]

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Martin nods. "No, I think I heard that one too. It was always a few years ago, before I'd started at that school, so no-one ever actually remembered it happening."

Funny, the sorts of urban myths a bunch of students can spread around.

"But everyone always swore it was true," Rich agrees. "And there was always some perfectly good reason why the school denied it and there was no point even asking."

But somehow, there were never any giraffes.

Thinking about it, Martin can't remember any giraffes either. How odd.

"Maybe even the staff thought the rumours were true?" ventures Martin. "They did seem to go back years and years."

"Could be," he says reflectively. "Wouldn't really be worth taking the trouble to investigate, would it, unless one of the kids got really attached to being a giraffe."

In which case of course it would be worth it.

"I wonder how easy it would be to find a kid and have him demand to be a giraffe," Martin says. "You'd probably only be out a few pounds for it if you managed it. I hear kids are easy to pay off."

"Find the right one and you won't have to pay," Rich says with a wry smile. "A lot of kids would do it just because being a giraffe would be cool. Or they thought it was funny."

"I don't know any that would be old enough," says Martin. "I have a nephew, but he's only two. It's still a few years yet before he'll be in school."

Still, it's something to keep in mind. Tony's already getting to the age where causing trouble for fun is a perfectly acceptable thing to do.

"Ah." Rich nods. "Perfect time to start convincing him the giraffe's his favorite. The more sincere he is when he starts campaigning for the role, the better."

"I'll start keeping an eye out for soft toys," Martin says.

The ridiculous thing is he's actually half-considering it. After all, it's not like it's the sort of thing that would actually hurt anyone, right?

Not unless his school turns out to be run by utter bastards.

Rich laughs.

"Perfect."

Aren't they all?

"I'd never have been able to do anything like that as a kid. I'd probably chicken out right at the last minute."

It was a habit he developed after being told repeatedly, by his father of all people, that he'd never be able to do this, or he'd be rubbish at that if he tried it.

That sort of thing tends to wear a guy down.

He grimaces.

"Ugh, me too. I'd have been afraid it might actually do damage."

He was a very conscientious child.

"I'd be more afraid of the telling off." Not from the school, but from his dad. "Even if I didn't break anything, I'd get an earful for trying it."

He doesn't see why, as he'd consider not breaking anything a success, if not the entire point of the endeavor. He nods anyway, though, because some parents are just like that.

Not his. He's got pretty laidback ones. But some.

It's an awkward subject, so Martin decides to change it. A bit awkwardly.

"So, are you, er, still in Ireland, or...?"

He shakes his head.

"No, I've been in London for a while now. I miss home, but there's more work here. I'm not really in a position to be picky."

Martin definitely knows how that goes. You go where the work is.

"I was just down in Cornwall today. I had a job down there, and it's a bit of a journey from Fitton."

He cringes. At least he's able to charge mileage on big jobs like that, or else he wouldn't make any money at all.

Rich winces sympathetically.

"Yeah, that's quite a haul. Do you get to charge extra for that?"

Because by now he's worked out Martin's actual job. No more embarrassing misunderstandings.

He hopes.

"I charge for the mileage," Martin says. "Well, technically, I charge by the litre. It's more accurate that way, and the formula to work it out is pretty much the same as the mileage."

"Oh," he says. "Well, that's good. Especially with the price of petrol these days."

He has a hard time imagining that not being an issue in every universe.

"I'd go out of business if I didn't charge for it." He has no doubt about it.

Rich - nods, very seriously, like he knows the first thing about petrol-price-based business decisions.

Martin has problems with silences, and all of them are awkward, as far as he's concerned. He feels rather compelled to try to fill this one, but he barely knows Rich, and doesn't really know which topic to settle on.

"So, do you, uhm... Do you do anything else, besides the, er, Storyteller thing?"

"Well, there is the performance art thing."

He sips his drink, which is more melted ice than club soda by now, and considers.

"I'm not meant to talk much about it, but I don't suppose it matters here, we're probably not from the same world."

Because really, what would the odds of that be?

"Oh. Well, if you're not supposed to talk about it, I wouldn't want to get you into trouble."

Even though they're probably not from the same world. Usually that's only the case if you run into someone that you already know.

Right?

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