Fic: Survival (PG) Spooks
Apr. 7th, 2007 03:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
melwilTitle: Survival
Author: MelWil
Fandom: Spooks
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Up to 3.2. Please don't spoil me past 4.4.
Summary: Tom indulges in drink and strange women
*
There was an almost empty bottle of scotch on the floor next to the bed. It wasn't Tom's bed, nor his bottle, but he'd enjoyed them both anyway.
He could feel movement on the other side of the bed, and he watched through half closed eyes as the anonymous blonde pulled herself up. He waited until he heard the water running in the shower before reaching for the bottle again.
He couldn't remember where he was or how he'd arrived there. He assumed there was alcohol involved, of course. Alcohol and bad music and the same repeated lies he wove into intricate webs of intrigue. But mostly alcohol.
The drinking started when the work stopped. After he left Thames House and walked away from it all. He stopped at the nearest pub (the one they didn't usually drink at because it was far too obvious)and drank too much until he had forgotten it all.
It never worked as well as he intended.
He moved from pub to pub, starting in the dark corners and working his way in. He amused strange women with false secrets and untrue stories about spies and terrorists. He told them his name was Harry or Colin or Peter or Danny. He could never remember if they told him their names.
He convinced them that taking him home was the most important thing they could do, that it was a matter of national interest. They would sit together, on kitchen benches and sofas and beds, drinking champagne and beer and some ancient rum.
He whispered false promises when he slept with them.
He walked away in the morning.
The doctors told him he was drinking too much, that the alcohol was shortening his life, that there were people he could see . . .
Tom told him that a generous pension was a very special thing.
He finished the bottle of scotch and retrieved his clothes from the floor. He dressed quickly and moved away while the shower was still running . . .
He had managed to survive another night.
Author: MelWil
Fandom: Spooks
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Up to 3.2. Please don't spoil me past 4.4.
Summary: Tom indulges in drink and strange women
*
There was an almost empty bottle of scotch on the floor next to the bed. It wasn't Tom's bed, nor his bottle, but he'd enjoyed them both anyway.
He could feel movement on the other side of the bed, and he watched through half closed eyes as the anonymous blonde pulled herself up. He waited until he heard the water running in the shower before reaching for the bottle again.
He couldn't remember where he was or how he'd arrived there. He assumed there was alcohol involved, of course. Alcohol and bad music and the same repeated lies he wove into intricate webs of intrigue. But mostly alcohol.
The drinking started when the work stopped. After he left Thames House and walked away from it all. He stopped at the nearest pub (the one they didn't usually drink at because it was far too obvious)and drank too much until he had forgotten it all.
It never worked as well as he intended.
He moved from pub to pub, starting in the dark corners and working his way in. He amused strange women with false secrets and untrue stories about spies and terrorists. He told them his name was Harry or Colin or Peter or Danny. He could never remember if they told him their names.
He convinced them that taking him home was the most important thing they could do, that it was a matter of national interest. They would sit together, on kitchen benches and sofas and beds, drinking champagne and beer and some ancient rum.
He whispered false promises when he slept with them.
He walked away in the morning.
The doctors told him he was drinking too much, that the alcohol was shortening his life, that there were people he could see . . .
Tom told him that a generous pension was a very special thing.
He finished the bottle of scotch and retrieved his clothes from the floor. He dressed quickly and moved away while the shower was still running . . .
He had managed to survive another night.