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[willrevile]

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[nineteenfortyfive]

You can't say that and leave me hanging.

[willrevile]

The worst isn't that interesting, honestly. I got stabbed with a huge knife in a shit place in my shoulder and even with all our advanced tech, it still needed an annoyingly long period of plain old time and rest to fully heal. I was the only loser half the crew had ever seen wearing a sling.

[ The worst is actually DYING but he never speaks of it. ]

[nineteenfortyfive]

Poor man, having to actually heal like a normal person. That must have been terrible.

[willrevile]

Normal is relative. And, hey, if it had happened a hundred and fifty years before, I probably would have lost all use of the arm.

[nineteenfortyfive]

And you'd likely not have a foot in my time.

[She's thinking more 18th century. She's done her part in saving limbs that any surgeon at the time would have simply lobbed off.]

[willrevile]

Which time is that?

[ She's pinged a couple different cultures, for him. ]

[nineteenfortyfive]

[This is why you don't text instead of sleep.]

1968 or 1766. The latter is more my time than the former, but I was born in 1918. Time travel shouldn't be all that strange to you, considering everything.

[willrevile]

It's not strange, no. And that's not surprising to hear from you; it explains a lot.

[nineteenfortyfive]

Does it? I haven't gone out of my way to hide it, but I suppose I can be a little inconsistent.

[willrevile]

I had three guesses - time traveler, secretly immortal, really into role playing.

[nineteenfortyfive]

I'd hope immortals don't have to suffer grey hairs.

[willrevile]

What's wrong with grey hairs?

[nineteenfortyfive]

I don't fancy people thinking I'm actually born in the 18th century.

[willrevile]

Everyone's hair turns, no matter what century they're from.

[nineteenfortyfive]

You know what I mean.

[She doesn't... like... looking... old...]

[willrevile]

Oh come on, you're gorgeous.

[nineteenfortyfive]

So are antiques, but thank you. And to think I already got your clothes off.

[willrevile]

Hey, you only ever had to ask.

[nineteenfortyfive]

What a flatterer.

[willrevile]

I speak only truth.

But I'm sure you hear that sort of thing plenty, being hitched, right?

[nineteenfortyfive]

From day one.

[willrevile]

That's good to know. I hear that's how those things are supposed to work.

[nineteenfortyfive]

I won't bore you going on about how marriages should work, but we'll just say he does a good job of making sure he doesn't end up single.

[willrevile]

Is he here?

[ Jim's pretty sure the impression he's gotten is that Mr Claire is about, or else he might not just ask and risk depressing her. ]

[nineteenfortyfive]

He is. His name is Jamie. Big redheaded Scot.

[That happens to be in his early twenties. Something went wrong, somewhere, but they're doing their best to make it work.

She just feels a bit like she's robbing the cradle.]