darker_london | You're the only one who slows if down (Thomas, Peter)

Peter and Thomas hadn't really had a chance to talk by themselves since Thomas's rather abrupt return. There were Peter's seven children and Deirdre's...issues, not to mention the hospital, and Thomas spending time with Mara and Spectre. Even when Thomas was around, nowadays they spent more time apart than together, just because of the way things had evolved. Thomas was making a life for himself, even after his death, which...was probably inadvisable, but it was what it was. And Peter had his own life. It never seemed to matter when the two best friends got together though. It was always as if they'd spent no time apart at all.

Peter and Thomas headed out into the cold London evening, hoping to find the demon Caoilfhionn or at least some clue as to where the Templars were basing themselves now. Together, they'd managed to take three strongholds from the Templars. That was not nothing. But there were always more places to hide, and it seemed like the Templars never stopped coming either. They entered Regents Park, strolling side by side, because they knew the demon was fond of the zoo and the duck pond.

They walked in silence until Thomas looked over at Peter and he raised his eyebrows. "You shouldn't smoke." He said flatly.

"I...I'm not!" Peter squeaked because that was creepy... He'd just been about to reach for a cigarette...

"You were about to. You just keep those cancersticks in your pocket there, Chimneyface." Thomas grinned at Peter and Peter continued to stare at him.

"Have you considered a career as a telephone psychic?" Peter asked, looking cheeky.

"Nah, I don't like wearing dangly earrings and I can't make my voice all mystical. I talked to your dad."

Peter blinked. "Uhm...that was a rather odd non sequitur. Unless you are insinuating that my father wore dangly earrings. Because he didn't have a mystical voice. I'm stalling, what did he said?" Peter felt all nervous now, in the pit of his stomach, and it wasn't fair that his father could still make him feel that way because, dammit, he was dead and therefore no longer a threat. But the threat of disapproval from beyond the grave loomed like a giant raincloud over his already slightly rainy day.

"That you're everything he wished he could have been." Thomas said with a little smile. "So I reckon you can stop looking like a stunned hamster now..."

Peter, who did rather resemble a stunned hamster, just paused in their ambling to take a moment to process that Very New Information. "He...me...I...wow."

"Well put, Shakespeare." Thomas took Peter's hand and he led them forward because they were here for a reason. "I heard about the whole...your father was a big closet gay man thing. And I figured I should go see him. Took me forever to find him too. And he seemed surprised to see me because he knew who I was of course. By the way, he doesn't like the phrase 'arsebuddy'."

Peter snorted and he looked at Thomas like he'd grown a third head. "You didn't call us that. Did you?"

"Past tense!" Thomas looked proud. "But really, he said he could see how much I cared about you and tralala. He likes Aly a lot. He says you have a lot of kids."

"I do have a lot of kids..."

"Well he had to be smart to be a lawyer! Anyway...He doesn't disapprove of you at all. He actually...couldn't stop talking about how wonderful he thinks you are. It was all very German and yuppy-speak, but it was nice to hear. Because I think the same things, only British and lower-class."

"It is. Nice to hear not...lower-class." Peter smiled over at Thomas and then he realised they were holding hands. "Hey. How long have you been doing that?"

"Since I called you Shakespeare." Thomas winked. "I have a delicate touch." He looked around and heaved a sigh. "I don't see any fucked up redheads, Peter."

Peter, who was still feeling all warm inside because his father didn't think he was a complete loser, cast his eyes to the sky, as if she'd just magically appear there. "I don't sense anything either. Bugger."

"Well. We have all night. Where else might she go? Come on, Peter, think like a sociopath!"

"Not as difficult for me as you might think. I've known a lot of sociopaths." And they continued like that, searching together, as they always had been. They didn't end up finding Caoilfhionn at all. But Peter felt that, at least he, had found something much more precious.