This is one of those situations where I don't mind that you are, where you have my full permission to. You are- wardening- but I'm asking for help.
[He says, with a dismissive wave, and a shrug.]
And more tea. But seriously- I'm just repeating myself, but seriously, darling, if I'm thrown back in there alone I'm dead or fucked. I don't know how else to be. Imagine just- landing back on your old doorstep, not a spy any more, and no way to talk about it, and no work history, and no documentation. I mean, if that happens and I do decide to avoid drugs, then realistically I'm doing day labour, under the table and for cash.
[And he'd do it, but it puts a look on his face that he ends up trying to smooth away with a hand over his mouth, a game little smile.]
I mean, I don't even know if we get a bit of seed money. If not, the first few weeks I'm sleeping in parks, you know? No one tells us anything about this.
[Well, the tea thing can be addressed immediately, so he's just. Doing that.
He thinks about mentioning that Mickey Admiral'd himself up only God knows how much cash when he had the power to do so - he kind of wishes he'd done something similar, but really, it probably wouldn't have helped. Shit, he doesn't know how much it could have helped Mickey given that he's right back here now.]
Yeah. I know. If I woke up back in my estate tomorrow, a year of my life missing an' no records of anything, I'd be fucked. But that ain't the situation here. People'll help, yeah? I mean, talk to Iris, for starters. You need papers that date back to the Thirties, she'll sort you right out. Doubt seed money'd be a problem either. Ask the Admiral on your way out - I don't think a few grand in a suitcase is gonna tax him all that much.
....I know. [Quiet, and mostly addressed to the teapot.] Me either.
[Not for the big stuff. He can ask people to teach him new skills, he can ask for information, but he can very rarely ask for help because he hates to admit that he's helpless. This is a trait Kingsman made worse, not better, though God knows he's years off acknowledging this in any way.]
But honestly, I don't reckon you'd need to ask. Us wardens, we're all inveterate do-gooders, ain't we. [He smiles faintly, crookedly, over at Ricki.] You lay out your stall to the right people, they'd just offer.
[He just looks surprised for a moment, and then - very pleased, and (though he doesn't let this surface) weirdly proud for reasons he couldn't even begin to understand.]
You should. I mean - you really should. And I'm saying that as a mate, not a warden.
No, not now that I've decided I want him to. Could have done easily before it consciously occurred to me, but he's such a bloody minded little shit that now that he's going to sense the enthusiasm, he'll probably find some way to reason me out of it.
[Drawing a hand over his face and laughing.]
I can never reverse-psychology him into anything, he's much too intuitive.
...You know what Cambridge said, when I told him? 'I suspected as
much'. Like, what the fuck am I supposed to do with that.
[What he actually did was lose sleep and feel paranoid for days and
it was the most counter-productive remark he could have possibly made, but
Ricki can probably guess.]
Sooner'd be better, wouldn't it? I mean. You're just givin' yourself time to talk yourself out of it, the longer it goes.
[Though they first spoke about this a while ago, and it's still on the table, which seems like a pretty solid indicator that it will happen eventually.]
[Eggsy just pulls his finger and thumb across his perfectly straight mouth in a gesture of 'zipping it', but the smile is in his eyes. He really can't help it if 'trying to be a supportive friend while also being a warden' is coming across as backseat wardening.]
All right, all right, I'm going to get going, go do some mental composing. You, go get a good bottle of alcohol, we're making an exception and getting me drunk in the aftermath.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[Because the best way to insulate a small child from a dangerous line of work is to not be in that line of work.
Also, yes, it is a little inmatey.]
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[But he is nodding. He can do that.]
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Yeah.
...sorry, I'm not tryin' to....warden at you.
[But he can't pretend this isn't a massive sticking point, either.]
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[He says, with a dismissive wave, and a shrug.]
And more tea. But seriously- I'm just repeating myself, but seriously, darling, if I'm thrown back in there alone I'm dead or fucked. I don't know how else to be. Imagine just- landing back on your old doorstep, not a spy any more, and no way to talk about it, and no work history, and no documentation. I mean, if that happens and I do decide to avoid drugs, then realistically I'm doing day labour, under the table and for cash.
[And he'd do it, but it puts a look on his face that he ends up trying to smooth away with a hand over his mouth, a game little smile.]
I mean, I don't even know if we get a bit of seed money. If not, the first few weeks I'm sleeping in parks, you know? No one tells us anything about this.
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He thinks about mentioning that Mickey Admiral'd himself up only God knows how much cash when he had the power to do so - he kind of wishes he'd done something similar, but really, it probably wouldn't have helped. Shit, he doesn't know how much it could have helped Mickey given that he's right back here now.]
Yeah. I know. If I woke up back in my estate tomorrow, a year of my life missing an' no records of anything, I'd be fucked. But that ain't the situation here. People'll help, yeah? I mean, talk to Iris, for starters. You need papers that date back to the Thirties, she'll sort you right out. Doubt seed money'd be a problem either. Ask the Admiral on your way out - I don't think a few grand in a suitcase is gonna tax him all that much.
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[Letting out a breath.]
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[Not for the big stuff. He can ask people to teach him new skills, he can ask for information, but he can very rarely ask for help because he hates to admit that he's helpless. This is a trait Kingsman made worse, not better, though God knows he's years off acknowledging this in any way.]
But honestly, I don't reckon you'd need to ask. Us wardens, we're all inveterate do-gooders, ain't we. [He smiles faintly, crookedly, over at Ricki.] You lay out your stall to the right people, they'd just offer.
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I think I'm going to tell people. All of it.
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[He just looks surprised for a moment, and then - very pleased, and (though he doesn't let this surface) weirdly proud for reasons he couldn't even begin to understand.]
You should. I mean - you really should. And I'm saying that as a mate, not a warden.
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[Slumping lower in his seat. It's amazing how he can be forty and feel like a frustrated schoolboy so much of the fucking time.]
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[This time, only 85% a joke.]
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[Drawing a hand over his face and laughing.]
I can never reverse-psychology him into anything, he's much too intuitive.
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[Eggsy smirks. It fades, after a moment.]
...You know what Cambridge said, when I told him? 'I suspected as much'. Like, what the fuck am I supposed to do with that.
[What he actually did was lose sleep and feel paranoid for days and it was the most counter-productive remark he could have possibly made, but Ricki can probably guess.]
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[Snorting, and shaking his head.]
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[A reluctant twist of a smile.]
I'm sorry, darling. It's good when it's good.
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Don't matter. I'm managing.
Have you thought about when you might...?
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[Though they first spoke about this a while ago, and it's still on the table, which seems like a pretty solid indicator that it will happen eventually.]
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But honestly;]
I will.
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Yes, sir, that I can do.