[ If Alan briefly indulges in admiring Baptiste's height and the breadth of his shoulders, well. Can you blame him?
He has to take a moment to decide what to say, in any case. Names have always been potential vulnerabilities. There's the name his mother gave him, too Italian for Londoners to respect. There's the name his articles are published under, unsafe to link to his sexual activities. There's "the Roman" -- but it feels discourteous to fob this fellow off with something so obviously fake.
(And it would be too close to "Cesare," anyway.)
The truth will probably out, he decides. There will be other lies to tell if he's stuck here, he's sure, and it's easier to keep track of them if he keeps the number low. ]
Ross. Alan Ross. [ He pauses, and then offers a handshake, with a rueful smile. ] And who am I going to be getting out of trouble next time?
no subject
He has to take a moment to decide what to say, in any case. Names have always been potential vulnerabilities. There's the name his mother gave him, too Italian for Londoners to respect. There's the name his articles are published under, unsafe to link to his sexual activities. There's "the Roman" -- but it feels discourteous to fob this fellow off with something so obviously fake.
(And it would be too close to "Cesare," anyway.)
The truth will probably out, he decides. There will be other lies to tell if he's stuck here, he's sure, and it's easier to keep track of them if he keeps the number low. ]
Ross. Alan Ross. [ He pauses, and then offers a handshake, with a rueful smile. ] And who am I going to be getting out of trouble next time?