Heavens, I hope not -- [ but the comment is almost thoughtless because, after all: ]

You look alright to me. [ forget the stairs. she offers his slightly younger self a little once-over. at the very least, whatever injury he's alluding to can't be as bad as the one with which he'd actually arrived. ]

What happened? Are you still hurt? [ cool concern. yes, oliver, do keep oversharing. ]

[ her brows furrow. ]

Ribs?

[ one word -- brutal, nearly, in its efficiency. whether it's the oliver she'd grown accustomed to fussing with or this younger one now, it seems she still employs some economy of language. ]

A few times. [ a dash of understatement, maybe. but there's no harm in giving him information he can already puzzle out as his older self. ] You learn to take your lumps when you enlist.

[ she doesn't say army because (of course) technically she wasn't. but she'll let him fill in the blank for himself. ]

I was.

[ something like that. at least. ]

But the war that I enlisted to fight ended a few years ago and -- the battlefield is well behind me, now.

[ but she can see some uncertainty on his face. she's quick to clarify: ] British Military. Enlisted in 1940. Nothing untoward.

As in the year, [ she confirms, ] this place is funny that way.

What about yours? [ year, that is. ]

[ 2007! it allows her to do a little bit of math. or it should, except-- ]

Beg pardon. You think--? Don't you know it?

[ here we go; here's the good stuff. ]

-- I've been here, stuck in this pocket, for quite some time. What's weird because rather relative rather quick. [ a beat. ] I expect to lose time and track of things while here in Wonderland.

Back home, however? [ her shrug is one-shouldered. ] That's a bit more surprising.

[ -- is that where the scars come from, she wonders? and if her eyes drop, just now, then it's while she considers whether or not gnarled skin might be lurking beneath his clothes. the gesture is a touch too invasive without context but she doesn't seem to notice or care. ]

Shipwrecked. [ she echoes the word. ] Good Lord. What happened?

[ her attention flicks back up to his face just in time for the pat and pretty answer. well, he says, his ship was wrecked. and peggy thinks she deserves it for posing her curiosity with such bluntness. still, she's not penalized for it in the longer run. he does keep talking and she keeps listening and suddenly (suddenly) she starts to fill in some of the sparser elements of who he might be. ]

I'm -- I'm sorry to hear it. [ and she is. genuinely. even as she wants to know more. ] Where were you tossed ashore?

[ she breathes through her nose in a way that might almost be mistaken for laughter. whatever else happens to the man, there's still something to be said for a wry sense of humour. she nods, acknowledging yet another well-arranged quip, and then rephrases her question. ]

And if I pulled out an atlas, Mister Queen, where would I look to find the worst place on earth?

[ apart from jersey. ]

Pity.

[ she scrubs a hand up beneath her curls, rubbing the back of her neck. ]

I was hoping to look for some pattern in the places we're yanked from. [ a slow, apologetic smile. ] But if you don't even know where you were then I suppose there's no use in asking.

A kitchen, actually. In a Los Angeles guest house. Wearing a silk robe and not much else. I'd only just woken up.

[ personal? maybe. but it's a bit of an intentional distraction -- just enough information to be earnest and sincere and sound like she's sharing, but nothing so distinct as to give him anything useful or too interesting once he's caught up to his proper age. ]

Funny story. [ her chin lifts. ] I arrived here by walking out of someone's closet. Straight into their bedroom. Mortifying.

Yes. Well. That someone rather promptly pulled a gun on me. [ she holds up a hand, as though quick to forestall any misunderstanding that she might have been a victim in the moment. ] And rightfully so. One can never be too careful in the mansion.

It wasn't the warmest welcome. [ and yet it had been a good one. informative. as if that might be the only reason, now, that keeps her smiling when she replays the memory. ] So you may as well drag your thoughts out of the gutter, Mister Queen.

[ honestly. ]