After dinner tea (For Kurt)

[advocatusdei]

Around six in the post midi, an envelope appears on the refrigerator door in the small kitchen of St. Vibiana's. Written on the smooth white paper is one single word, a name. It says 'Kurt'.

Enclosed is a small note, written with the same, precise, to-the-point style; an address to one of the tall apartment buildings in Little Tokyo.

'Tea

Comments

[bettern_errol]

Kurt dresses carefully in a nice white shirt and black slacks before turning on the image inducer to mask his skin. A grey blazer later and he's out the door, and...okay that intersection should be just about *bamf!* here.

Kurt hits the buzzer for the appointed apartment. "Tower D, eigth floor, apartment seventeen" the note said. D 8:17. Huh. Appropriate.

((Research is love!))

[advocatusdei]

Not even a second later, the buzzer crackles with the static background noise that inhabits all apartments. "Right on time, Kurt. Come on up."

And the locked door clicks open. There's an old-fashioned elevator just waiting to be used in the back, covered with an elaborate grid rather than a door, but there's a winding staircase to the left as well.

The eighth floor is practically alive with sounds; dogs barking and yapping behind closed doors, cats meowing out in the hallways, people rummaging in their kitchens for something to eat. There are a lot of voices everywhere, but whether it's because the walls are thin as tissue paper, or because everyone talks really, really loud, well, that's anyone's guess.

Apartment seventeen, however, is decidedly different. No dog's yapping in there, no bustling around anywhere, no loud game show's on in the background... Instead, there's just the slightest hint of the dulcet tones of Nat King Cole.

((Mwahahah. Yeah. God and 'her quirky sense of humour', à la Dogma. :P))

[bettern_errol]

The elevator is totally cool, with its sliding grate, and Kurt hums something tuneless on the way up. Odd thing about elevators is that there's always elevator music whether the things have speakers or not...

He dodges some kids playing in the hallway, nodding to the old grandmothers keeping an eye on them. He gets some raised eyebrows, this time not for how he looks but for where he's going. Odd fellow in the apartment at the end...

Knock knock!

[advocatusdei]

Yes, the odd man with the knowing smiles and always-perfect suits, who comes and goes without anyone ever hearing him in the hallway, the one who plays jazz music all day long, but never does anything in there; the one no one ever visits.

Until now.

No wonder Kurt's being watched. Anyone who visits that man must be in the wrong place, entirely.

"It's open!" Gabriel calls from inside, setting out all the necessary items on the round kitchen table. He doesn't have much, but then again, he doesn't need much. It's a small, one bedroom apartment with a cramped living room and a kitchen and bathroom to the left.

There'll be plenty of time for a guided tour. Gabriel knows Kurt must be really curious about the flat.

[bettern_errol]

Oh heck yes!

"Hallo!" He slips in and closes the door behind him, turning off the image inducer. It was convenient, but the novelty was wearing off and he always felt a little relieved to drop the charade. Kurt takes advantage of every peering second before he spots Gabriel to look around. He...had no idea what to expect, but he has a feeling this tiny space probably wasn't it. Does Gabriel actually sleep here? ...Does Gabriel actually sleep?

[advocatusdei]

"Over here," Gabriel's head peeks out from behind a doorjamb further inside the kitchen. "Come on in. Make yourself at home."

He takes a seat by the table, two steaming mugs of tea already placed on either side of it, the plate of sandwiches smack dab in the middle. The mingling scents of cherries and sea foam and cucumber slices and cheese make an unorthodox but pleasant mix. To the side, there's a small jar of thick, golden honey and a carton of milk, and two spoons. It would seem someone's thought of just about everything.

"It's good to see you, Kurt. I'm sorry about the short notice. I hope you don't mind."

[bettern_errol]

Kurt takes in the...fleamarket mismatch of all of it. A big gold-framed mirror on the wall, an overstuffed sofa that was probably once red but is now faded to a blush, teal area rug with crocodiles on the boarder, a tall cat gym now being used as a plantstand, a bookshelf with a few random texts - old used geography and politics textbooks, sports biographies, a guide to travel in the U.S.S.R.

It was...utterly random, and very strange. Something a student fresh out of college with $10 to cobble together a living space on might come up with. But Gabriel is here and Gabriel is what's important.

"Danke, Engel! And no, not at all. Is...this is really your apartment?"

[advocatusdei]

"It's where they send all my mail." He smiles, sliding his fingers around the dark green mug, middle fingers fighting for space in the tentative care of the wide, looped handle.

"But, yes, it's my apartment, while I'm here. You expected something a bit more posh, didn't you." He looks up at Kurt, pausing to sip his tea. "Or, at least somewhat different."

[bettern_errol]

"I would say no but it would be a lie. It just...you always have on the nice suit with the tie and the socks. This apartment is jeans and a university t-shirt! But I know very little." Kurt has a matching mug, and likes the feel of the warm ceramic in his hand.

It's starting to sink in that he's alone with Gabriel. In Gabriel's apartment. That's weirder all by itself than the red kitty cat clock on the kitchen wall.

[advocatusdei]

"It was her favourite, you know. She loved it even better than her Fraggle Rock alarm clock... She begged and pleaded for Mother to buy it for her, and one day - it was her birthday, a bright and sunny day, not too different from today - she got up for breakfast, and there it was." He murmurs, smiling at the cherry-scented steam wafting up from the smooth, matte mug.

"...there's something I wanted to discuss with you, Kurt. I'd like to ask a favour of you, but I need you to know you're under no obligations."

[bettern_errol]

Kurt looks at Gabriel and then back up at the clock. "Whose...? Oh, of course! Name it and it will be done." :D

[advocatusdei]

Always so trusting, so willing and able to believe. It's one of the reasons Gabriel likes Kurt so much.

"I need you to keep your eyes and ears open for me. There are dark times ahead of us, child. You have felt it, too, haven't you." His thumbs stroke the sides of the cup slowly, once, twice, then stop.

"You know of the Spear of Longinus."

[bettern_errol]

He nods, solemn. The gruesome werewolf killing, criminals escaping, and the massacre on the airplane! The other man on the park bench had also hinted at things... and the wind at night crawled over the city like a restless snake: cold and dry.

"It is the soldier's spear that killed Christ on the cross."

[advocatusdei]

"There are no limits to the power it yields, destructive, corrupted though it is. If it were to fall into the wrong hands, you can imagine the havoc, the chaos...the carnage."

[bettern_errol]

The tea sits forgotten on the table as Kurt gives his complete attention to Gabriel.

"It has resurfaced, then? Evil forces are seeking it?"

[advocatusdei]

So trusting. It's what Gabriel counted on.

It's so easy to simply nod, and grip the cup a bit tighter, to sigh and lower his gaze to the warm, aromatic fumes.

"Someone is hiding it, but she's only human," he murmurs at the cup of tea. "It won't be long until the wrong kind of clientele learns of its whereabouts, so we need to find it before anyone else does... To think so much work has gone to waste, so many innocent lives, all squandered in the endless effort to keep it hidden. No more."