evillurks: (cranston impassive)
[personal profile] evillurks
The Shadow is hard at work coordinating things from the Rettigue apartment, today. The break from hunting out Khan's activities in his alternate's world is merely an opportunity to chase criminals in his own. Unavailable to gather forces for multiple raids and without the time to head up those operations himself, he's stuck compiling information and passing it to legal authorities through very careful channels. It's a lot of paperwork, and very tedious, but it gives him a physical rest he needs from his other activities.

When Metody arrives, he's in the most worn spot in the whole place; the center of the black plush sofa, bent over the coffee table. He regards his visitor over the rims of his reading glasses. "You've looked better. Coffee or tea?" The paperwork is shuffled neatly into a folder, out of sight.

The apartment is spacious and spartan, with sleek dark furniture. There's a grouping of the sofa and a few black armchairs around a black metal coffee table, all arranged on a vast Oriental rug. A bookshelf built into the wall opposite the sofa holds a television set that is archaic by Metody's standards, fewer books than one might expect, a sleek stereo system, and in spots of honour a card bearing Chinese calligraphy by Myra and the wrappings and knife Metody sent for Christmas. A floor to ceiling window dominates another wall, but the drapes are only open a crack. Apart from the kitchen doorway and a hall, there's little else to be seen in this room. It has quite a bit of open, empty space and the feel of somewhere that is only sporadically lived in.

Date: 2010-02-02 06:04 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] metody-green.livejournal.com
"Okay. Not too much," he agrees, amiable. Single serving things would probably be best, because he somehow doubts The spends a lot of time on cooking for himself.

He hesitates, then fidgets with the bag of coffee as he tries to think of something else to say. Nothing comes to mind.

"I...guess I ought to, uh - "

((Oh, spiffy. I'll be sure to check it tonight!))

Date: 2010-02-02 06:31 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] evillurks.livejournal.com
The Shadow is, in fact, a perfectly capable cook. A lifetime of living alone and not always in ideal circumstances has taught him to be resourceful, and he can manage something palatable even with limited ingredients. On the other hand, the modern age has left him somewhat prone to grabbing take-out of one kind or another. Metody's offerings have been a welcome break.

"Mmm." The old man regards his nervous attempt at speech with an impassive face. "You should go home and rest. Make the next report when you feel up to it."

Date: 2010-02-02 09:18 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] metody-green.livejournal.com
He smiles apologetically. " - I should stop filling up so much of your time, too. Um. But thankyou very much. I feel much more clear headed now."

Much-much-much. He had the brief urge to chant the word after saying it so many times. He resisted; it was more from a cracked kind of social perversity than any real craziness, and would not have helped. Chanting never helped.

Date: 2010-02-02 09:56 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] evillurks.livejournal.com
The Shadow shrugs, and moves to stand, albeit with a hint of reluctance. "I needed a break." He seems prepared to see Metody off and return to his paperwork, but the chance to have a few cups of coffee and converse about something other than his current work has been appreciated.

Likely he wouldn't know what to think if Metody started chanting, though.

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