"Look, I've had just about enough of this conversation."
I'm raising my voice at the Torchwood equivalent of a speaker 'phone, on a conference call with people who should know better. I'm in my study, which is a large alcove adjacent to the bedroom I share with Sarah Jane Smith, lover and mother of my children, bless her. I'm standing in my bare feet, in my silk pajamas - new and blue in a gift from Sarah last Christmas - and a ratty old bathrobe is a bright red tartan - long story for another time - and I was relaxing, until the call.
An annoying male voice says, "Professor Harrow, please be reasonable -"
And that's my cue to do the opposite.
"Get off the 'phone, you stupid git! I'll talk to Winnie, but not to you and I don't care that you're now the one in charge of UNIT, Mr. Fancy Pants."
"That's Dancy-Vance, and Brigadier to you," the male voice asserts.
"Professor?" That's Winifred Bambera, the Brigadier I know. Not the brightest bulb in the box, but I've encountered far worse. "Maybe now isn't a good time for this particular topic." I know she's being diplomatic, but it isn't going to work. Not today.
"Sorry, Winnie dear, there's not going to be a good time for this topic."
"Professor Harrow -"
"Oh, fuck off, Fancy Pants! I won't discuss it, and that's bloody final!"
no subject
I'm raising my voice at the Torchwood equivalent of a speaker 'phone, on a conference call with people who should know better. I'm in my study, which is a large alcove adjacent to the bedroom I share with Sarah Jane Smith, lover and mother of my children, bless her. I'm standing in my bare feet, in my silk pajamas - new and blue in a gift from Sarah last Christmas - and a ratty old bathrobe is a bright red tartan - long story for another time - and I was relaxing, until the call.
An annoying male voice says, "Professor Harrow, please be reasonable -"
And that's my cue to do the opposite.
"Get off the 'phone, you stupid git! I'll talk to Winnie, but not to you and I don't care that you're now the one in charge of UNIT, Mr. Fancy Pants."
"That's Dancy-Vance, and Brigadier to you," the male voice asserts.
"Professor?" That's Winifred Bambera, the Brigadier I know. Not the brightest bulb in the box, but I've encountered far worse. "Maybe now isn't a good time for this particular topic." I know she's being diplomatic, but it isn't going to work. Not today.
"Sorry, Winnie dear, there's not going to be a good time for this topic."
"Professor Harrow -"
"Oh, fuck off, Fancy Pants! I won't discuss it, and that's bloody final!"
And that's when I realize I'm not alone.