*enters carefully disguised in trenchcoat and hat, tentacles tucked under his collar*
Captain Harkness told me where to find you, sir.
...I wish to offer you my sincerest apologies and commiserations. With your choice of toppings.
*offers him a lovingly-prepared chocolate-ice-cream sundae from a cold-bag, complete with cherry on top*
That'sh shweet. *slaps you on the back* You're my besht mate.
...No, sir, Lynda is.
*orders three pints simultaneously to catch up, and adopts slightly cross-eyed(*), slurred expression to get on Arthur's wavelength*
...She's wunnerful, y'know that? An' she lovesh you. Sho much.
(* "slightly" cos it's damn *hard* for an Ood to cross his eyes, I mean just look at 'em)
Girlsh aren't matesh. They're girlsh.
She lovesh you ash well old bean. She lovesh everybody. Though not in a Biblical shesnse in every cashe. I think. *hic*
Shertainly not in my case. --Cashe.
*pats you heavily on the shoulder, missing occasionally* She lovesh you, man. She really really lovesh you. Sho mush that she wants to give up everyone elesh for ya, no matter how hard it izzh forrerrr. You got that?
*waves wavering finger in front of you* Sho don' you go feelinnng like she'll ever *ever* give you up, or like yer not enough of a man for her to spend her life with, all right mate?
Cos that'sh my job.
Wantsh ish the *big* thing. It'sh like you wantin to be the perfect hushband for her, only you can't be absholutely one hunnert percent perfect caush nobody ish, but you're alwaysh tryin'. An' she lovesh you sho much for that.
*leans heavily on you, arm around your shoulder* Sho don' feel like you have to go wavin' temptayshun unner her noesh for her sake, you got that? She'sh not goin' out an lookin'. She wansh you. *with more emphasis, cause he's not sure if the word made it all the way out of his mouth* Yyyyyyou.
*eyes wander to the ice cream* Hey, you want thish thing flambe'd? I figger if we breathe on it...
*thoughtfully shovels in some of the sundae*
You musht be hung like a horsh, mate.
Erm, no, sir.
I'm hung like a squid.
It's all in how you use it...
It'sh the tentaclesh, isn't it? You can do shomething clever with the tentaclesh.
*woozy grin* Indeed I can, shir.
But most of it, you can do you with your fingertips. I can teach you some tricks if you like...
I don't have eighty-sheven fingersh!!
Neither do I! *wiggles* Count 'em.
Believe me, sir, ten used effectively can be more of a draw than twenty. I know because it's your ten she wants.
Here. May I show you?
*looks around furtively to make sure no one is watching*
*untucks his tentacles*
*gives you a careful, non-threatening forehead massage -- two circling on your temple, two working back and forth at the top of your cheekbone, just below your eye. Easing the tension you didn't know had built up there*
See? You can do that one-handed, sir. And still have plenty of fingers left over for anything else you want to try. She... Women love that.
...oh dear, shir. Are you feeling faint? Should I offer you brandy? Or is that redundant? Or would it be appreciated anyway?
*rubs the back of his head*
I feel sober.
...Good heavens, that's more effective than I thought.
*laughs a bit* May prove useful as a hangover cure, sir...
*trails off, settles down on the floor next to you, knees curled up. Distinctly less sober than Arthur now*
...Teresa and I are engaged. Once we wed, we might not be around very much. I'll miss pressing your shirts and cleaning your kitchen... but still, that should make things easier for both of you.
...Take good care of her, Arthur. She'll love you for the rest of your life.
You're getting married!!!
*leaps up and shakes your hand*
Brilliant! Congratulations, old man!
Indeed, sir. However, don't tell yourself that this will change the nature of my relations with your wife...
*a beat; a careful twitch of the tentacles so you realize I'm deadpanning*
...she gave me up ages ago.
*hauling himself to his feet to clasp you enthusiastically*
You poor silly man. You're so afraid she's going to leave you if you don't tolerate her giving in to her feelings for her old loves. When she doesn't even want to give in. Not if it hurts you. And she'll never abandon you -- not for me, not for anyone. Not even for some random immortal adventurer type. It's you she wants.
For God's sake give me some kind of sign that this has gone in, so I can stop soliloquizing and we can get back to our ice cream!
*thumps your back* Thanks, old man.
*walks into the pub*
*sees the Ood there and immediately turns around to leave*
*gets up, a bit wobbly*
It's all right -- I can leave you two alone if you want.
*swallows, suddenly quietly scared*
...Your husband was just congratulating me on my upcoming wedding. And possible departure.
You're engaged to Teresa! Oh, that's...
All the best.
Yes. If you could...I really need to speak to my husband.
I know you two need plenty of space alone together, so...
*shaky puppydog eyes* Just please, catch up with me before we go. We have to be all right before we leave...
*under her breath, aside to you*
All right, yes, just...not now.