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Jul. 10th, 2008 08:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
phantym_56I has done ficlet...
Marty Hopkirk was killed around 1970 and condemned to walk the Earth as a ghost for 100 years. So where is he now? (actually, I like to imagine he's hanging around Torchwood, but I'm in a Top Gear mood again recently)
“Jeff never had this problem,” the white-suited spectre observed.
Marty Hopkirk was killed around 1970 and condemned to walk the Earth as a ghost for 100 years. So where is he now? (actually, I like to imagine he's hanging around Torchwood, but I'm in a Top Gear mood again recently)
James was acting particularly strangely today, even for James, Jeremy thought. Even James didn’t usually stare around the room as if he could see something no one else could and he certainly didn’t usually try to start conversations with thin air.
“I think May’s cracking up, Hammond,” Jeremy remarked.
James jumped and for a moment, his eyes snapped back to Jeremy before almost immediately drifting away again.
“Maybe it’s not him, it’s us,” Richard suggested, leaning forwards conspiratorially.
“How can-“ James started. Then, flashing an embarrassed look at his colleagues, he finished lamely, “… it not be you?”
“Right, enough!” said Jeremy. “James, what is wrong with you today? What do you keep looking at it?”
“Nothing.”
“What do you keep talking to?”
There was a moment of uncomfortable silence and James’s eyes flitted for the hundredth time towards the corner.
“Can you see something we can’t?” Richard asked, looking around hopefully.
A faint grin tugged at the corners of James’s mouth.
“No. Just… talking to myself. About… spanners.”
“Spanners,” Jeremy repeated. “With that look on your face, I really don’t want to know what you were thinking about spanners. Save that thought until you get home; Hammond and I really don’t want that mental picture.”
Richard spluttered with laughter.
