I got a lot to say to you,
Yeah, I got a lot to say,
I noticed your eyes are always glued to me,
Keeping them here,
And it makes no sense at all.

They taped over your mouth,
Scribbled out the truth with their lies,
You little spies,
They taped over your mouth,
Scribbled out the truth with their lies,
You little spies.

The whole bar was busy with numerous groups, people hanging around the tables, around the dart board and pool table, laughter and the thick smell of alcohol lingering in the thick air. He wasn't looking for company, or for a night stand, more just trying to amuse himself by watching the pub move slowly, the occassional drunk tripping around while the old band that's music was outdated by decades playyed at the corner of the room, the young band looking irritated by the slow music that the performed had obviously asked for. Remedy let out a deep sigh, bright blue eyes flickering up to watch a group of young men around the pool table. Flicking his wrist slightly, he took a large swig of his beer that was resting on the counter. A woman that he'd told to bugger off around an hour ago was sweet talking another drunk at the corner of the room while a young group of high-school dropouts sat in the opposite corner, clearly having drunk more than they should have.

His parents would murder him alive if they found out that he came here often after finishing his work which at the moment, he wasn't sure what to call it. He would often follow Booth around as the agent went about his buisness after all, it was part of his jobs to keep an eye on the group that Agent Booth was fond of. That's what sucked about being in the CIA, he was told what to do and most of the time, without an option. Oh well, it wasn't like he had a choice and right now, he couldn't care less either. Using his free hand, he gave a groan, standing up slightly to stretch his stiff legs. He'd have to leave soon, so he could get home before his parents, have a shower and be ready before they got back from whatever it was they did when visiting Torchwood. Maybe he should just go and buy his own house.

Pah, pathetic idea, he wasn't going to hang around that long. He'd just bunker in with his parents till all this buisness curled over with the aliens and Delphi, then he'd get out of town and back to causing trouble. Of course, he'd never tell Sky that he worked part time at Caduceus Europe along with the CIA and he'd threatened Miller at gunpoint not to tell anyone that he was in town, unless he was needed that badly helping with GUILT. Growling to him, he sat back down, turning his attention back to a group of older men playing darts.

Nothing compares to a quiet evening alone.
Just the one, two I was just counting on.
That never happens.
I guess I'm dreaming again.
Let's be more than this.

If you want to play it like a game,
Well, come on, come on, let's play,
Cause I'd rather waste my life pretending,
Than have to forget you for one whole minute.