15 - Video

[bodilesswarrior]

[Look who's awake!

Barbara looks rumpled and worn, hair mussed and skin pale. There's a stylised owl on her forehead, wings curving down her cheeks, stopping at the edges of her smile.

Iris is there with her, bedraggled and beaming. Between them, Jonesy hops and mews, clamouring for attention.]

Hey, Barge. [She sounds a bit exasperated, but she woke up with Iris in her arms and purring in her ears; she's incapable, right now, of being overly irritated.]

Fill me in on the past few weeks, would you? [Not that she won't be going through the network with a fine-tooth comb, of course, but individual perspectives are always valuable.]

Comments

[backdated a short time before the post]

[routemistress]

[Between the murders and Victor, Iris hasn't had a chance to walk Jonesy or check on Babs since after breakfast; the cat's going to be going mental by now, and it's a good thing Jonesy has an automatic litterbox and isn't given to random furniture destruction. Or attacking sleeping people.

She lets herself in with the voicecontrolled lock]

...'Ey Madam, I brought you prawns.

[Jonesy twines round her ankles, and she smiles.]

...I'd've brought you along, but Bruce were narky enough about Harvey sitting in on the autopsy. Besides, you don't like 'im.

[She puts the plate of prawns down and keeps talking to the cat.]

...No, I've no idea yet. Weren't Victor, I know that much. I think we might 'ave to interview everyone newish. Least I've got a bad cop laid on already, eh?

[She rubs her face, and sits on the edge of Barbara's bed. She doesn't look at the woman sleeping there.]

...Wake the 'ell up, can't you?

spammity spam

[bodilesswarrior]

[She can hear a voice, as she fades into consciousness, familiar enough that it makes her lips twitch. When her eyes open, dazed and drowsy, it's a full-fledged smile.]

Well, if you'd only asked. [It's a soft mumble as she tries to focus.]

SQUEEEEEEEEEEEE SPAM

[routemistress]

[It shouldn't be possible to execute a flying leap from a sitting position, but Iris manages it anyway; she lands on her elbows across Barbara's top half and buries her face in the soft part of her jawline, where it merges into ears and hairline. She smells of massage oil and permanent marker ink and her pulse beats strongly under Iris' lips and she's not crying okay, if anyone asks that's just drool.]

What time d'you call this, lady.

[bodilesswarrior]

[A soft, light laugh falls from Barbara's lips as she tries to raise her arms; they fall haphazardly across Iris' waist.]

Fashionable late?

[routemistress]

[That is asking to have an ear bitten, and Iris does so, lightly.]

Bugger fashionable. Don't ever do that again, it was 'orrible. Both of you at once.

[It's around here that the cat finishes her food and works out that the boring still person has stopped being boring, so she jumps up to get - shrilly loudly - in on the act]

...oh piss off, Madam. I suppose you want to get up and pee. And we've got a serial killer.

[bodilesswarrior]

[Delighted laughter blends with petulant yowling, and she pulls back a hand to gather Jonesy up to her cheek.

Her smile fades as Iris finishes, but not entirely.]

How close are we to catching them?

[routemistress]

[Iris sags a little against Barbara's shoulder, drops a kiss on it then bites that too, because she can.]

Not close enough that I can shut meself in 'ere for the next two days and forget about 'im. Can I shoot 'im meself just for that?

[bodilesswarrior]

[Her arms tightens around Iris, just a little, before her hand traces up her back.]

Sounds justifiable to me.

[routemistress]

[The nerves along her spine are always good for making Iris melt, and she shivers obediently, hands clenching.]

...That counts as cruel and unusual when I'm in the middle of 'unting murderers, you know.