Outside of Muses: Camden Market, Christmas 2032

[underlondon_npc]

At first glance, the busy street Nix ushers Reid out to looks like something out of a Charles Dickens book, although slightly more sanitised than that. The street is narrow and jammed with stalls selling a massive variety of food, clothing, small animals, tools, odd-looking electronics and virtually anything (and everything) else. Few people in the street look particularly well-off - or particularly clean - although there's a wild variation in outfits, ages, genders and races. There are even horses and carts, although the occasional electric flicker betrays the fact that the horses, at least, are some kind of hologram, and in the sky are pigeons, and odd flying shapes that look as if they might be some kind of motorcycle or quadbike. Far off, and high up, an odd-looking machine like a train or perhaps a tram whirrs and rattles along elevated rails into the distance as it snakes through the tallest buildings.

The overall impression is that of noise and ragged colour and smoky late-afternoon air, all highlighted by the rather incongruous-looking strands of fairylights and the lightly falling snow. London smells odd: not entirely unpleasant, but smoky and damp, with an odd note of petrol and oils, maybe even gunpowder, behind the smells of dozens of cultures' worth of cooking food.

Nix turns to Reid with a laughing, red-lipped grin, gesturing with her furled umbrella. The door she's holding open for him is now that of a pub, the George Cross, with people laughing, shouting and drinking behind them as they had been in Milliways, but unlike Milliways it's far pokier, darker and overheated: it's no surprise that she preferred to drink at the end of the universe, when the opportunity presented itself.

"Welcome to London!"

Comments

[bau-woobie.livejournal.com]

Blink.

Blink.

"What? Oh--" There's just so much to look at, to see, to analyse...

"I'd listen to her, if I were you," he replies.

[brokensteeldoll.livejournal.com]

The urchin yells, but Nix twists sharply at the ear and a wallet is reluctantly surrendered.

"Check it's all in there," she advises Reid, not letting go of her prisoner.

[bau-woobie.livejournal.com]

Reid takes his wallet, and his long fingers sort quickly through; nothing's missing.

"It's all here," he says, shutting the wallet, and stowing it in a more secure pocket.

[brokensteeldoll.livejournal.com]

"Did you nab anything else?" Nix demands, glowering. "'Cos I will track you down and make you pay for it."

The child shakes its head very definitely, and this time Nix lets go - and then sighs.

"You eaten today, kid?" she asks, before the urchin

Another very definitely negative shake of the head, and Nix tosses over a few coins which are immediately caught. "Awright, now get lost."

Vanishing is immediately achieved, and Nix turns back. "Sorry about that, Kiddo," she says to Reid. "Next time, mind where you keep that thing. Breast pocket is safer, if you've got one."

[bau-woobie.livejournal.com]

"....Kiddo?" His tone communicates volumes.

[brokensteeldoll.livejournal.com]

Nix laughs, unrepentant.

"Sorry. You'll get a different nickname when I come up with one."

Beat.

Mischievously, "Although you're cute when you pout, so maybe not."

[bau-woobie.livejournal.com]

"I'm... a little old for that kind of nickname," Reid protests.

[brokensteeldoll.livejournal.com]

Nix giggles again. She's vaguely tempted to suggest changing it to 'Puppy', but somehow she suspects that that won't be considered much of an improvement.

"All right, Bright Spark, will that suit?"

[bau-woobie.livejournal.com]

Reid blinks a couple times at that.

"That's... unusual."

Not as bad as 'Kiddo' though.

[brokensteeldoll.livejournal.com]

She tweaks one of his curls teasingly. "Trust me, it could be worse. Now, y'want them books or not? I think I've got enough cash left to get you somethin', if y'find somethin' you want."

She hasn't got much money - none of her group have - but it's nice to be able to be generous sometimes. Commonsense dictates that she's not averse to taking freebies off anyone daft enough to offer them, but at the same time it does grate on her pride to do so all the time. She'd far sooner never have to take anything from anyone, but the world doesn't work that way so she'll deal with it. Still, she likes Reid, despite her own misgivings, and it's good to be able to treat someone for once.

[bau-woobie.livejournal.com]

He blinks again.

"Really? Are you sure?"

[brokensteeldoll.livejournal.com]

"S'long as it's not a Dostoyevsky first edition or somethin' daft like that, yeah," Nix tells him dryly. "C'mon, it's just down here."

The grubby little door she shoves open looks as though it belongs to a set of flats, but turns out to open on a shadowy little Aladdin's cave of books from floor to ceiling, with an extra mezzanine of even older-looking tomes reached by a rickety-looking stepladder. Unlike its door, the shop is spotlessly clean, but badly-lit: the windows are as full of books as the rest of the place, so the only light comes from a few more stray strands of fairy lights and a naked bulb in the middle of the ceiling. As of yet, there's no sign of a proprietor.

"Should've brought a torch..." Nix mutters to herself, closing the door and turning to peer into the gloom. "Oi! Ottaline! You about?"

For the moment, there is no apparent response.

[bau-woobie.livejournal.com]

Reid is already moving through the stacks, eyes running over the titles, taking in words and names and the conditions of various books. He pulls down a volume here and there, flipping open the cover, and maybe a few pages, before putting it back, or keeping hold of it.

It may be somewhat difficult to remove him from the premises.

[brokensteeldoll.livejournal.com]

She rolls her eyes, entirely unsurprised.

"Flamin' geeks," she tuts, though she's somewhat entertained. "Why I let myself in for these things..."

"If he damages them," announces a disembodied Cockney voice, "He'll have to pay for 'em. Though some'ow I doubt he's the type."

The entire bookshelf next to Reid slides jerkily to the left to allow a plump, middle-aged woman to emerge into view, the sequins on her crimson sari glinting in the dim light of the shop as she attempts to push flyaway salt-and-pepper hair back into place. "Did I hear you say y'wanted a torch, luv?"

[bau-woobie.livejournal.com]

"...Huh?" Reid looks up from a table of contents, blinking a little in the dim light. He hadn't even thought of that, really.

[brokensteeldoll.livejournal.com]

"Wouldn't mind, yeah," Nix grins, and neatly catches the torch Ottaline tosses to her. "Afternoon, Ottaline! I've brought y' a geek, hope you don' mind."

The woman's laugh is deep and as infectious as her smile. "I imagine I'll live, ducky. Does 'e have a name?"

Nix chuckles. "Spencer, this is the woman who knows the entire city. Ottaline Bhutani, this is Spencer Reid, he's a mate."

[bau-woobie.livejournal.com]

"Dr. Spencer Reid actually," he adds, extending a hand. "Pleased to meet you."

He closes the book, and slides it back on the shelf.

[brokensteeldoll.livejournal.com]

Ottaline shakes his hand with both of hers, her handshake soft and warm.

"Doctor, is it?" she asks. "Pleased to meet you'n'all, sweetheart - especially if you spend money here." She cocks her head at Nix, birdlike and curious. "He's more polite than the rest'a your mob, Gordon."

Nix snorts. "Probably 'cause he isn't part of it. I'll lead him into bad ways eventually, though."

[bau-woobie.livejournal.com]

"Not the medical kind," Reid says, by way of clarification. "Your selection is rather amazing here."

[brokensteeldoll.livejournal.com]

Ottaline nods and smiles. "Nah, love, this is practic'ly empty right now. You should see it jus' after we get new stock in."

She gives Nix a quirky look. "'Aven't you started already? I'm a little shocked, I can't lie."

"That'd be a first," Nix mutters. "Hey, Ottaline, 'ave you got them books my brother ordered? Sorry, but we've not got masses of time."

The shopkeeper nods, puttering off and disappearing behind a massive free-standing stack of books. "Got all but one, I think. The husband put 'em safe, but God only knows where that was... be with you as I can!"

[bau-woobie.livejournal.com]

"What kind of books does your brother read?" Reid asks, without looking up from his perusal of titles. He's tempted several times by volumes with publication dates well after his own time, but he can't help think of paradoxes, stable time loops, and the dozens of other possible consequences for messing with time.

He's still tempted, of course, and Nix might notice his hand hesitating by a book or two before moving on.

It'd be better if he didn't even open one.

[brokensteeldoll.livejournal.com]

Nix shrugs, flicking idly through a shelf full of Sherlock Holmes books.

"What doesn't 'e?" she says rhetorically. "I think he's got everything written on computers, though. This lot's half practical, half fun - and one's a Mills & Boon that I am reliably assured is for a prank."

[bau-woobie.livejournal.com]

"That's good. It's... nice to see, that even in one future, people still read books."

[brokensteeldoll.livejournal.com]

"Well, the real tech's only for the rich and the criminals, so 's not that much of a surprise."

She leans relaxedly against a bookshelf, watching his face with a small smile on her lips.

"Don' get too hung up on this being the future, Bright Spark. If you're really very lucky, it might not be."

[bau-woobie.livejournal.com]

"No, but it is, from my perspective, one possible future," he replies. "Of course, I guess I could look in a history book, and see if it is, but-- Are you familiar with the concept of a stable time loop?" he asks.