#gradianpatrick

[txbiaswilde-archive]

PM: @patrick-clarington​

Good morning, Patrick. How are you? I have some business I need to discuss with you, at your earliest convenience.

[txbiaswilde-archive]

CAUGHT // TOBIAS & PATRICK

Driving back to the pub, Tobias had a bit of a sinking feeling in his stomach. The encounter he’d had this afternoon was something he’d hoped to avoid so close to the village — if it came to something like, he’d hoped it would be further away, somewhere distant enough that they could carry out their business with less risk, but that hadn’t quite worked out. It wasn’t a matter of what he had done that fazed it, it never did, bloodshed was a part of his life and had been for a long time. But with a certain police officer lurking around, it was harder to conduct business and get back without questions being asked, questions he wanted to avoid.

He pulled back into the car park with a little too much speed, his mind more focused on getting back inside than actually arriving without anyone noticing two men with blood stained clothes and skin heading upstairs. They needed to get cleaned up, and head back outside, and act as if they never went anywhere to begin with. When the car came to a stop, he looked out of the window and spotted the exact person he didn’t want to see, and he sighed, taking one of his guns out and putting it back in the glovebox. He wanted to get his jacket off in the heat, and so he removed the other gun and holster and reached behind himself to place them behind the drivers seat. Removing his jacket and waistcoat, he laid them across the back seat, ready to come and get them out later. The windows in the back were tinted anyway, that was the good part of having such an expensive car, it was ultimately the perfect car for a man who did what he did.

Once out of the car, he headed for the back door, telling Alastair to head upstairs and wait for him in his office, desperately needing a drink. “There is is, laying in wait”, he said quietly as he looked over at Patrick, very aware of the blood stains across his shirt, and splattered across his neck — he’d wiped it off his face at least when he got back in the car. “If we’re going to have this conversation, i’d rather it was upstairs. We don’t want anyone walking out at current, do we?”