all the lonely hearts in london caught a plane and flew away.

[ They're in some half-obscure corner of Westminster, standing around a very meagerly trafficked street and -- waiting, apparently. Together. It's close to sixteen hundred hours and the timer on Khan's dimension hopper thing reads five minutes left. Shit, how much time is five minutes, really? How much can you squeeze into that time frame -- of words and gestures and good intentions? It's a ridiculously short, teeny tiny amount. Five minutes, but it's all they've got for now.

They have talked, but not extensively, on their way here, a one and a half hour long walk from Baker Street. The short cut through Green Park, past St. James' Palace, had been rather nice -- he'd joked about something, can't recall what right now, but the atmosphere had been pleasant, easy.

John glances up at Kahn, lounging next to him in his stupidly long coat and with his newly healed hand poking out of the sleeve. He'll wake up tomorrow and be convinced it's all been a fantastical and slightly ridiculous dream, won't he? ]

I'm going to be disappointed if there aren't any sparkles, you know.

you came to me in peace.

[ Going out had been his idea, revenge for all the fast food they (read: Khan) had eaten last time. The other man hadn't objected, so here they are -- orders placed, appetizers just delivered to their small corner table (some kind of mousse with chunks of shrimp arranged on slices of cucumber, garnish, looks ridiculous and ridiculously expensive in equal measure) and the waitress with her brown ponytail disappearing into the kitchen, leaving them -- not quite to themselves in the quickly filling restaurant, but close enough. Seafood's a popular choice on a late Friday afternoon, apparently.

John raises an eyebrow at Khan across the table, reaching for his glass of white wine, ignoring the appetizers for now. Frankly, they resemble tiny, green flying saucers with fish bits more than anything. At least they were on the house. ]

You looked like something out of Back to the Future, honestly. Not sufficient sparkle to match Hollywood, but I'm sure you can tweak that.