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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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"Oh, uh. No. Well, maybe. I don't know." Martin wouldn't be surprised, with the way she behaved. "I only knew her for about a day.

"No, it's this other guy I sometimes work with. Everything goes his way, even when he should be getting in trouble for something."

If Martin sounds a bit bitter, well... Rich would understand if he knew Douglas.

"A repeat client?"

Being an actor, Rich is good at sounding innocently confused. Admittedly, it isn't that hard, because he really is confused. He just doesn't want to sound like he's interrogating Martin or something when he really isn't.

"Nnnno," Martin says slowly. He realises now that he's been contradicting himself this whole time.

"I, uh, do some other stuff on the side. It's more of a hobby, really — or charity work, really, since I don't get paid for it or anything."

He considers leaving it at that, but then figures that he's bound to embarrass himself sooner or later, and he may as well get it over with.

"I fly a jet for a small charter airline. Well, airdot, as the owner calls it. Just the one jet, and only one other pilot. But it takes up most of my time, which is why I need a job with flexible hours."

And now's the time when he starts steeling himself against being laughed at or mocked. That's what usually comes by this point, because who spends so much time indulging their hobby that they take a job as a removalist just to get by?

"Oh."

There are entire chunks of this conversation that suddenly make more sense.

"God, it must be nice to be able to set your own hours. I've been sacked because of rehearsals running too long before, it's a scheduling nightmare sometimes."

In other words, the bloke who has mostly not quite made a living pretending to be other people isn't about to judge someone else's professional choices.

"Tell me about it," Martin says, though he's still far from relaxing again. "My first six months doing this, I went through nine jobs. Employers tend not to like it when you disappear for a week on end because the airline gets a last minute client who wants to go to New Zealand."

Rich makes a rueful face.

"They don't much care about the perfectionist bastard of a director, either."

He sympathizes.

Martin manages a small little laugh. "I wouldn't know anything about that. Slave-driver CEOs, on the other hand..."

He does like Carolyn, for the most part. Just not when she makes them sleep in the plane.

(There, you see? Is telling the truth really all that hard, Martin?)

"And I don't know anything about that." Rich sounds rather pleased, now that the air seems to have been thoroughly cleared. "What's it like being a pilot, anyway?"

(No, just embarrassing.)

"Uh—" He seems rather caught off-guard by this question. "You really want to know?"

Usually when he hears that question, or one like it, the person asking is just being polite. Or they think they are, and then just try to change the subject again once he starts going on about it.

Martin can go on a bit, it must be said.

"I might play a pilot someday," he points out. "Could be useful."

Plus it sounds familiar, wanting to do something so badly he'll make all kinds of compromises to get there. Rich can identify with that.

"Oh. Well, OK."

And Martin does go on a bit, now. He starts off slowly, and more than a bit nervous, but once he's convinced Rich isn't going to wander off or anything, he starts to get into it, going on about take-offs, and the places they've been, and the bird strike in St Petersburg. Eventually, he comes round to his crew, talking about Arthur and Douglas, and while he tries to paint Douglas in a positive light, he does sort of fail a bit.

It's not unlike the torrent of enthusiasm you might get from Rich if you asked why he loves acting as much as he does. He listens with interest, and if he doesn't always follow the more technical details, Martin's eagerness still gets the point across. More or less.

"That sounds fantastic," he says when Martin winds down. "Really."

"Really?"

Martin doesn't get that reaction, like, ever. Except maybe from Arthur, but Arthur still manages to derail everything.

"Well, I mean, yeah. It's a lot of fun, and if I could get paid for it, it would be even better, but something about a pilot with test anxiety makes people not exactly want to hire you."

He knows his stuff. If anything, St Petersburg proved that. But four goes to get his CPL and another three to get his ATPL has rather limited his choices, unfortunately.

"Really," Rich assures him.

He's finished off his drink. A fresh one pops up for him, and another for Martin as well.

"Doesn't experience sort of - supersede that, though?" he asks. "I mean, I dunno, I don't run an airline, but if I'm a passenger and I have to choose between a pilot who makes a landing on one engine and one who passed the tests on the first go, I'd rather have the first guy."

He's just saying.

"I guess it doesn't really work like that," says Martin. "I mean, I got the highest certification license three years ago, and failed every interview but two in that time. The first was for a job that wound up not even letting me fly, and the second was the one I've got now."

If you can even call it a job.

"Well, maybe if you tried again now it'd be different?"

Rich is uncertain of this hypothesis, both because he is not the one who knows how things work in the airline industry, and because he is well familiar with the importance of detail on a CV. There's a reason he claims to be five foot ten on his.

"I'll have to get an interview first," Martin says.

He's still been putting his CV out there, every chance he gets. He can't even be in the same room with Carolyn's new boyfriend without trying to land an interview with someone over at his airline.

If Martin wants to fly at all, he pretty much has no choice but to do it for free. And he loves it too much to stop doing it all together.

He might have been able to come up with another suggestion or two if he tried, but he knows how annoying it is when an outsider tries to tell you how your industry works, so he just looks sympathetic instead.

"Good luck," he offers. "For what it's worth, I'd let you fly my plane."

In a strictly literal sense. With an actual plane. If he had one.

Martin laughs quietly, but very politely avoids saying anything to scare the straight guy off.

"Thanks," he says.

And because anything else he could possibly say will just embarrass him, he says nothing else. He may still be laughing slightly, though.

"Any time," he says weakly.

This is just not his day for intelligent conversation, is it.

At least Martin is putting up with him? Still? Somehow? But maybe he should try not to overstay his welcome. He takes a last swallow of his drink and puts it down on the Bar.

"Uh, it was nice meeting you, but I should probably -" He gestures toward the Door.

"Uh. Yeah."

Oh, did he manage to scare the straight guy off anyway? Typical. One of these days, Martin will learn how to talk to people without making a fool of himself. Today is apparently not that day.

"You too. Maybe I'll see you round sometime?"

It somehow doesn't seem likely.

"Oh, hello Skip!" It's Arthur, and he's dripping. "I was just visiting the squid."

A towel appears on the bar, along with a mug of cocoa. Arthur picks up the towel and scrubs his hair with it.

For most people, visiting the squid does not typically involve swimming with it. But this is Arthur, and Martin's very well familiar with the way he works, so he says nothing.

"Er... Right," says Martin. "Oh, right. Rich, this is Arthur. We work together at MJN. Arthur, this is—"

"Oh wow! The Storyteller!" Arthur stops scrubbing his head and looks delighted. "I mean, I think..."

He tries to look cool.

"I'd know for sure if I watched kid's television. But you know, I don't or anything."

Smooth.

Rich was very confused for a few seconds - visiting the squid? is that a euphemism? oh, no, no it's not - but now he's back on solid ground.

There are three types of viewers who recognize him as the Storyteller most often: kids, obviously; parents, usually young mums, who want to have a flirt; and other adults, usually college kids but not always, who do watch kids' television for a variety of reasons, many of which tend to involve being high.

Arthur is, for some reason, triggering the responses to both the first and third groups. At least it's not the second group. Rich hates the second group.

At any rate, he's in poised Storyteller mode by the time Arthur has stopped talking, which makes this the first bloody time he's been anywhere near poised since he struck up the conversation with Martin.

"No?" he says. "You'd be surprised how many do. I've a few tell me I cured their insomnia."

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