[ 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. ]

Not everyone. I don't believe. [ she puffs her way through a sigh -- enduring the way his eyes wander but not without a lift of one brow. ] But when every so often things like this happen, [ she nods towards the window, ] it's not a bad idea to be prepared.

[ ... ]

I'm terribly sorry. That's likely the last thing you want to hear right now.

[ -- it catches her off guard. he's so little like the man she knows only by what he's shown her, older and colder than he is now. her lips curl into a not-quite smile. taken aback, but not so far that she seems lost within the conversation.

all she needs to do is adjust. ]

What's so terribly funny?

[ emphasis on the terribly. ]

[ her attention narrows -- just a little -- and peggy finds herself looking for ways to turn that tragedy on its head. there is an urge to reach out and put a hand on his elbow, but she resists.

instead, she glances down the hallway. ]

There isn't much that's good to be said about this place. But, [ silver linings, ] have you eaten anything since you arrived?

There's a diner a few floors up. I imagine the ingredients all come from the same unexplained source but the food itself is cooked in a kitchen. It's cozier, I suppose, than the grand dining room.

[ she points two fingers towards the stairs. ]

It's worth a visit -- no matter this place's downsides.

Eight. [ which, of course, never seems like it's so far when she's usually on the fifth floor. ] Is that a problem?