You Must Love Shark Week

Cast: date: 'September 17, 2012'
place: '"Whitechapel laundromat'
participants: 'Teresa, Tucker'
synopsis: 'Awkwardness is smoothed over with talk and laundry. Also, Tuckers is bigger. '
log: "Laundry, needs to be done. It's a fact of life and despite that it is Tucker who is the owner and in turn, Watch governed, that hasn't stopped Teresa from coming in and doing her laundry. She's just a bit more fickle about when she does it. Namely, attempting to do it when tucker is not there. Which might explain why the blonde is parked on top of the dryer, reading through a textbook about organic chemistry, a highlighter cap in her mouth and the corresponding marker is scratching it's way across the page. A paper cup still steaming on an adjacent dryer, all in the name of killing time till she can pack it all in and go.\n\nThere's a clattering from the back room of the laundromat, and then Tucker comes into view with an arm-load of detergent boxes cradled against his chest. They're set down on the counter, and his hands move to shift them about, sorting them by brand where they rest. It's after he gets them into something resembling an order that he realizes that there's a ''familiar'' regular in the shop. He pauses in mid-sort, his head turning a little. \"Murdoch,\" he offers, tone tenative, \"Evenin'.\"\n\n\"You must like shark week\" She notices Tucker too, the only customer present at this moment with their laundry. Everyone else is out, trusting their unmentionable to not find feet of their own and take off. The highlighter scratches across the page again and she looks over. \"Who's is bigger, yours or the great whites?\" She seems to be in a good mood. or at least, not combative.\n\nAt that, Tucker lets out a short bark of laughter. There's little humor in it, his gaze drifting back to the boxes, hands moving over them slowly as he re-organizes them. \"Mine,\" he says quietly, \"I'm just about the biggest gullet on this ruddy planet, as far as I can tell, luv.\"\n\n\"Better than being the biggest ass. I think… Jack is it? I think Jack gets that award\" The page is flipped, more scratchings. \"I surely have to be the hottest piece of ass to walk into your shop. Dunno what it is that Mattie does\" her foot paddles up and down while talking to Tucker's back and to her book. \"Those were vampires, yes?\" Because, she doesn't have access to the bestiary like the rest of them.\n\n\"That's right, luv,\" Tucker admits with a slow shake of his head, \"That's exactly what they were. A pack of 'em killed some of ours just a few weeks ago, so we weren't exactly in a mood to be taking prisoners.\" He slants a look over, expression serious, \"Half've the Watch might have severe personality disorders, Murdoch, but they're good people. They mean well.\"\n\n\"The path to hell is paved with good intentions\" She counters, closing her book gently, putting it to the side to pay attention to Tucker. \"You'll have to understand. Two years ago, the ones I met, didn't have good intentions. Quite the opposite. Not everyone everywhere, is like the lot of you. They make Jack look like a puppy\" Teresa points out. \"How did you come to hook up with them?\"\n\n\"They found me, when I came out.\" Tucker's gaze drops back down to the boxes, shifting them around. They're already organized, of course, so he's just doing them to keep his hands busy. \"I… wasn't in good shape. Took them awhile to bring me back to myself.\"\n\n\"Are you still yourself?\" Four words that Teresa's not sure that anyone should ask of someone who has been through the gloom, chewed up and spit back out.\n\nThere's silence for a long few moments, then Tucker's gaze slants over in her direction. \"Well, luv,\" he asks bleakly, \"Can any've us really answer that question?\"\n\nTeresa can't really answer it herself, so there's just the silence that supplies her own answer. \n\nPunctuated by the buzzer of the dryer she's sitting on declaring that it is done, get off the machine you lazy bint and get folding. Which she does, sliding off, feet thumping to the floor and easing the door to the dryer open. She pauses, taking in the smell of the clothes a squint and a glance over her shoulder. \"Did they need salt?\"\n\nAt that joke, Tucker's nostrils flare in a rough snort. \"Very funny, Murdoch,\" he says with a shake of his head, \"Very funny.\" A selection of detergent boxes are picked up, and he carries them over to a shelf, lining them up there carefully.\n\n\"Sorry\" offered up in an apology, in case he's getting tired of the jokes. \"Just, you'd never guess it to look at you, but then, same could be said for myself\" effeciently, quickly, she's folding clothes, everything cheap, replaceable at a moments notice. \"I can find a different place to do my laundry. If it's to uncomfortable for you. Little weird for me but…\"\n\n\"Please.\" Tucker doesn't look over as he stocks the shelf, \"I have to deal with more uncomfortable people'n you on a daily basis. At least I know if you keep bloody showing up here to do your laundry, you haven't been dragged off kicking an' screaming, wot?\"\n\n\"Oh really. Who could be more uncomfortable than the woman who almost burned down your place?\" A pair of pants are folded, her mind tripping as to what could possibly be. \"I mean, possibly… a nudist?\" But then, why would a nudist need to do much laundry.\n\n\"You have met some've the other Watchmen, right?\" A glance back over his shoulder, Tucker's lips twitching into a smirk, \"I mean, they're not exactly th'most socially adept bunch in the world.\"\n\n\"Not that many and those that I have, short of Mattie, are… well like you said. Severe personality disorders. I met one the other night when my tire went flat, he was drawing in chalk all over my tire. Crazed one who attacked a guy who I bought a drink for in a bar. Jack. Cedric. Cedric. Beyond that, I don't know. I know there's more of you, just that there's the bunch of you who have reared their heads in my direction.\" She's halfway through her clothes, slipping them into the duffle that will be strapped to the back of her bike. \n\n\"You're one of the more socially adept ones that I've met. Mattie too.\"\n\n\"Cedric's just emo as fuck,\" Tucker replies with a roll of his eyes, stepping back over to collect the boxes of detergent from where they're resting, another arm-load hauled over to the shelf as he shakes his head, \"I keep expecting the guy to be sittin' there with a knife and some Depeche Mode playing when I visit him. They do mean well, though. Watch helped most've us get control've things, so, logic goes they could help you.\" A look over to her again, \"Most've them know people who've died, or been pulled back in. Don't like to see it happen.\"\n\n\"What could they, what could you or someone else teach me that I haven't learned in the nearly 5 years that it's been since I was spit up from the jowls of hell. Mattie already offered me a job, helping dissect stuff with your resident… coroner? But that's just… that's just not at all appealing. No offense, I don't think I'm cut out to roaming, slicing and dicing vampires\" A slight lift of her shoulders at that thought.\n\n\"Well, obviously you're still settin' fire to perfectly innocent laundromats,\" Tucker notes dryly, \"Sometimes there're things that aren't suited to learnin' yourself… coroner, eh? Creepy. Couldn't do it myself, I'd start gettin' hungry.\"\n\n\"Hey! I was testing your fire plans! Clearly, your fire extinguisher is functioning perfectly well\" Mock hurt coming from Teresa. \"And I offered to compensate you!\"\n\n\"I'm just saying, sure, you've clearly learned a whole lot in five years,\" Tucker replies with a smirk over, brushing some detergent-dust from his hands, \"Honestly, though, you'd be wasted down in the morgue.\"\n\"I'm much better in the burning things to a crisp department instead of assisting someone in the fine art of chopping up bodies\" Clothing is done, and she's cleaning out the lint trap, starting to gather her things, clean up where she was so that there's little that Tucker needs to do when she's done and gone.\n\n\"Maybe, if it'd been you lot that found me, instead of spending a year in a mental hospital, and then the augusta folks, things'd be different.\"\n\n\"Maybe so.\" Tucker scratches a hand at the curve of his jaw, noting, \"Well, if you ever change your mind, luv, we're here. Personally, I'm not gonna push you. Some've the others will. Try'n let them down easy, they're just like— over-eager puppies, mostly.\"\n\n\"I'll make sure to keep a bag of begging strips on hand\" Trash trashed, books slid into bag, she's hefting the duffle up in her arms. \"If I see any vampires, I'll be sure to get some ketchup and and call you. For now though, I need to get these home before it rains. Go have some ice cream. Cheer up. Your shop is still in mint non crispy condition\"\n\n\"Why does everyone think I'm not cheery?\" Tucker's hands spread a little, a faint and wry smile curving to his lips, \"Jus' because I'm not bouncin' off the walls doesn't mean I'm unhappy, luv. G'wan, get your hot ass home, woman.\"\n\n\"Maybe it's because you don't smile\" She counters. Teresa pauses at the door, a shuffle of her feet. \"Thanks.\" For what, who knows. Could be many things. She's not going to elaborate, just ease out the door and head for her ride and leave Tucker to the laundromat and all by his lonesome\n\n\"Coroner…\" A chuckle as Tucker turns back to organizing the detergent, shaking his head, \"Coroner my ass. Girl'll be a field agent one've these days, mark my words, if she survives long enough.\""
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