dear_mun | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Look, why don't we work this out nice and easy, huh? You don't want me and I don't want to be here. The simple solution would be to let me leave.

Yeah, but you're not going to do that, are you. Yep. Didn't think so. What exactly do you plan to do with me? I can tell you right now it's not going to be what you think. All of that running around, sticking me into embarrassing situations, making me learn life lessons. Your average afterschool special, right?

Maybe in an insane asylum.

I don't think so. I get enough of that from my day job. I don't need anyone co-opting my life, capisce?

You don't even think I have a personality. I have a personality! I'm not just--some look-alike to that pirate guy who's also in here. This is too weird for me, man. Why don't we just go our seperate ways?

And stop saying I look twelve. Jeez. Can't a guy look young for his age without taking a bunch of crap for it?

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You do look twelve, though. Grow a beard, will ya? They put you on the street, crooks will think you're a kid trying to play cops and robbers.

[Bloody disgraceful, the kind of people the yanks will stick in a police uniform.]

[Jesus. He doesn't need more commentary from the peanut gallery about his looks. Have a pained smile.] I do fine. Most of the crooks out there these days are kids, anyway.

[Giving you a quick once over.] Officer Hanson. [And you are?]

Oh yeah? So what's 'these days', then? ['cos where he's from, kids are kids and crooks are crooks, and he doesn't see that changing any time soon.]

[He sniffs and hitches up his trousers.] Gene Hunt. DCI. [He is so your superior, kid. Even if you're a yank and probably don't know what a DCI is.]

You know. Just Say No. War on drugs. The gangs. All those things kids are getting up to in high school. It can't be much different over there. [In the 1980s. In England. He thinks you're English. Cockney? He can't place the accent.]

[And yeah, he gets the idea you think that makes you his superior, but he doesn't know the anagram. And you're definitely not in his direct chain of command. He'll match your sniff with a chin-jerk.] DCI?

'Over there'? [What's that supposed to mean? They're the mothercountry, kid. If anyone's 'over there', it's the yanks.]

Detective Chief Inspector. [Said with very precise enunciation. Go on, kid, write it down so you won't forget it.]

Yeah, across the pond. [You are from England, aren't you?] Fish and chips. Uh. Big Ben. [And that is all he knows of British culture.]

So, what, does that make you the boss? [So you're a cop, and you're someone's superior officer, but you still aren't his.]

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