Fic: Excursion
Summary: Break and Reim go to town to buy gifts and find more distractions and trouble than they were expecting. Fluff and a bit of flirtatiousness, combined with suspense and a touch o’crack.
Words: 3,314
Rating: PG-13
Writer’s Note: Thanks to total_alias for beta reviewing. Set some time before Break lost his eyesight.
(1)
The carriage ride into town was bumpier than usual and Reim Lunettes was wishing he could have just stayed home. But it was nearly Christmas and he and his best friend Xerxes Break had a few more gifts to buy. These last minute gifts were for their employers, Duchess Sheryl Rainsworth and Duke Rufus Barma.
“Honestly, I don’t know why I bother sometimes,” he muttered, taking off his glasses to see what was interfering with his vision.
“Indeed,” concurred Break. “They could just buy what ever it is they want or need. But it’s the thought that counts, mm?”
“It’s the thought that counts, yes.” Reim located the speck of mud on his glasses and rubbed it furiously with his handkerchief. “I’m glad you agreed to come with me today, Xerx. I hate going into town alone.”
“And I have a feeling I’ll need you to help keep me on task, Reim-san.” The white-haired man grinned and stuck a lollipop in his mouth.
“Indeed,” muttered Reim, putting his glasses back on and looking toward the window.
Soon after, the two men arrived in town and stepped out of the carriage, asking the driver to be ready to collect them in a few hours, after they’d finished shopping. They braced themselves against the blustery wind and headed down the street in the direction of the shoppes.
A young woman with white hair and blue eyes peered out at them from the alley, then took out a journal and began to write:
10:09 am…Hatter-san and Reim-san stepped out of a carriage and began walking down the street together. They look cold.
She crept out of the alley and followed them, her feet moving quickly and quiet on the cobblestone street.
Their first stop was a bookstore. Reim and Break marched inside and looked up at the musty stacks of hardbound volumes.
“You think there’s something here that Duke Barma doesn’t already have?” said Break quietly.
“Pretty unlikely,” Reim whispered. He looked around, took a deep sigh and started walking down the aisles, expecting against all hope that something would just leap out at him from the shelves with Barma’s virtual name all over it. He hadn’t gotten to the end of the first aisle when he began to sneeze. Violently.
The young woman with the journal peeked through the stacks and took out her journal. She laid it flat on an empty shelf and began to write:
10:21am: Hatter-san and Reim-san entered a bookstore. Reim-san is having a sneezing fit. His face is very pink.
By the fifth sneeze, Break was by his side, head cocked curiously. Reim was sneezing uncontrollably into his sleeve with no signs of stopping. Other customers were poking their heads into the aisle to see what was happening, and the chestnut-haired man was never happy to be the center of attention, especially any attention that made him look snot-nosed and teary-eyed. He rushed down the aisle, heading for the door, Break close behind him.
Once they were outside, the sneezing stopped, and Reim blew his nose furiously into his spare handkerchief - the one he didn’t use to clean his glasses with.
“Agg!” he grumbled. “Musty old books.”
“Well, clearly this is a sign that Barma will not be receiving books as a gift this year.” Break tapped his cane on the ground. “Shall we move on?”
The young woman peered out the window of the bookstore, waiting until the two men continued down the street before leaving the shoppe to follow them. Her white hair blew across her face, and her long floppy sleeves provided only minimal warmth for her icy fingers.
“A hat shoppe!” exclaimed Break, pulling Reim by the arm into the hatmaker’s shoppe.
“Neither Duke Barma nor Duchess Rainsworth wear hats, need I remind you.” Reim cautiously sniffed the air in the shop as he looked around.
“Oh, this is just for us.” Break looked around at the wares, a broad smile of contentment tinged with mischievousness on his face. “Try this one, Reim!” He held up a fuzzy earflap hat suitable for the coldest of Siberian winters.
Reim looked askance at the hat, but something about the brown fur appealed to him, and he took it from Break’s hand. He looked at the inside, then the outside, turning it over in his hands until he was sure he’d found the place where his head was supposed to fit, then placed it on his head with a delicacy you might expect from someone topping a cupcake with sprinkles, while trying to prevent them from spilling off.
“Oh yes, that suits you…” Break looked at the other man, and something akin to admiration peeked out from his face. “It makes you look so warm and cozy.”
Reim turned to look at himself in the mirror, then frowned.
“You’ve got to be kidding me, Xerx.” He pulled the hat off and handed it back. “I look ridiculous.”
Break took the hat and sighed.
“Whatever will you use to keep your head warm this winter, Reim-san?” He put the hat back on the shelf. “At this rate you’re going to have to grow your hair long to keep your ears from getting frostbite, and I know you aren’t keen to do that."
“I will not grow my hair long, you know that.”
“I know, I know.” Break pointed to a top hat up on a high shelf. “I can’t quite reach that one, would you mind?”
“As long as it’s for you, not me,” Reim muttered. Standing on his tiptoes he snatched the black silk top hat and handed it to Break.
The white-haired man placed it on his head and looked at Reim.
“What do you think?” He grinned.
“You look handsome in all hats,” announced Reim, “and I look…stupid…in all hats.”
“Not true.” Break sauntered over to the other man and traced the outline of his chin with his finger. “You have quite a nice jaw line…and those lips…” Break’s lips parted slightly as he leaned forward. Reim gasped and stepped back.
“Xerx!” He looked around nervously. “We’re in public!”
Break smiled and adjusted the top hat on his head.
“Weeell…Reim-san…should I get this one, do you think?”
“I like it,” Reim said, cleaning his glasses, “but…you haven’t even looked at yourself in the mirror yet.”
“Don’t need to. I don’t care what I look like…it only matters what people like you think. After all…” Break said, pulling his wallet out of his pocket, “…I don’t have to spend all day looking at myself like you do.”
He paid for the hat, then the two men stepped out into the street. The chilling winds swirled around them, and Break had to keep his hand on his hat to keep it from flying away.
Crouched behind a barrel, the young woman completed her journal entry.
10:35am: Hatter-san and Reim-san have exited a hat shoppe. Hatter-san appears to be wearing a new hat. Echo’s fingers are feeling very cold and this makes it hard to write.
She then tiptoed after the men, about twenty paces behind them.
By the time they got to the candy shoppe, Reim’s nose and ears were flushed from the chill air.
“I’m going to have to brush up on my knitting, I think,” Break said, observing the color in the other man’s face. “Then I’ll knit you a scarf. You’d wear it, wouldn’t you?”
“I’m not making any promises,” Reim mumbled, cupping his hands over his ears to warm them. “Last time you made me something to ‘wear’ it turned out to be a doll.”
“What’s wrong with dolls?” Emily shrieked from her station on Break’s shoulder.
“Dolls are…creepy,” the bespectacled man said, shivering involuntarily.
“No creepier than the person controlling them, ah?” Break snickered into his sleeve.
(2)
The candy shoppe was another small, intimate place, and Echo did not want to be spotted, so she hid outside and gazed in the window.
10:51am: Hatter-san is feeding candies to Reim-san. Hatter-san is smiling and Reim-san is blushing, but seems to be enjoying them.
“Have you any free samples?” Break asked the shopkeeper. The two men were presented with a few broken bits of chocolate and dented truffles. The white-haired man had his share consumed in less than a minute, while Reim was still savoring his candy, eyes closed to more fully appreciate the flavors and smells of cocoa, raspberry and mint.
“Reim-san, your chocolate is melting in your hands…” Break clasped the other man’s fingers in his, just as Reim snatched the last piece and put it in his mouth before his friend could steal it. Break raised the other man’s hand to his face and licked the chocolate residue off his palm. Reim quivered at the touch and blushed furiously.
“Xerxes!” he hissed. “Don’t do that here.”
Break snickered, then dropped his hand, and set about filling an entire basket with candy tins and lollipops.
“We should have stopped here last.” Reim looked disapprovingly at the full basket. “Now we have to lug all that around with us…unless they do delivery.”
“Yes, they do delivery. I shop here all the time. And, if Duke Barma likes candy, then you can pay for half of this and consider your shopping done.”
“As a matter of fact, my lord does not appreciate candy in the least.”
“I knew there was something very wrong with that man,” Break muttered, putting his goods on the counter and arranged for them to be delivered to Rainsworth manor under his name.
Momentarily they were out on the street again and heading for a tea shoppe, with Echo tagging behind them, hand clasped on her journal. Break carelessly discarded a candy wrapper on the street and Echo picked it up, smoothed it out and placed it into her journal as a bookmark. She watched the two men enter the tea shoppe, then crept into the alley where a blond man was waiting for her. She handed him her journal and he glanced over her recent entries with a mischievous smile.
“You’ve done well, Echo,” he said, fingering the candy wrapper. “but that’s enough.” He placed his hand on her forehead. “You’ve been naughty,” he murmured ominously. “You’ve enjoyed tailing Hatter-san and his friend a little too much I think.”
“Vincent-sama…” she whispered, trying to choke back the tears as she watched Vincent open a satchel and pull out a red cloak.
)(
“Tea is a sure thing, ah?” said Break, holding the door for Reim. As the bespectacled man passed through, Break caught a glimpse of their follower’s floppy white sleeves and white boots as she ducked into the alley. With the slightest tinge of malice on his face, he glanced up and down the street before entering the tea shoppe. Where Echo lurks, Break thought, there also must lurk the Sewer Rat, Vincent Nightray. And where there is an Echo, there is also a Noise…a certain noisy Baskerville with a penchant for puppeteering…
Inside, Reim was inspecting some decorative tins filled with the finest of teas: First Flush Darjeeling, Margaret’s Hope Darjeeling, and some exotic blend from overseas.
“Found something, Reim-san?” Break asked, clapping his friend on the shoulder.
“Indeed, I think my lord would appreciate some of this tea with the fans on the tin. I believe it’s from his home country.”
Break picked up a flowered tin and inspected the writing on it.
“And, I believe this will work for Milady the Duchess.” He grinned and glanced at the door. “Let’s pay and go, hm?”
“Would you gentlemen care to try the latest fruit tea?” asked the shopkeeper, offering small cups on a silver tray.
“Thank you,” said Reim, taking a cup and sipping it.
Break drank his tea in one quick swig and glanced around the shoppe warily. While they were purchasing their wares, he kept looking toward the door.
“Something wrong, Xerx?” Reim tucked both tea tins into the small satchel he’d brought.
“Eh…nothing.” Break smiled slightly, tapped his cane on the ground and they headed for the door. When they stepped outside, Break looked up and down the street, then poked his head in the alley.
“Looking for something?” Reim wrapped his arms around himself to try to keep warm.
“Eh…yarn shoppe?” Break said, tapping his finger to his chin. “Yes, a yarn shoppe.”
“Doubt it’s in the alley, Xerx,” Reim mumbled. “I’m getting hungry. What do you say I get us some sandwiches from that cart over there?”
“You do that, Reim, while I look for that…yarn shoppe, mm? I’ll meet you back here in ten minutes. Oh and uh…keep your glasses clean, would you?” Break grinned and tipped his hat.
What on earth does he mean by that? Reim wondered to himself.
Over by the sandwich vendor, the young woman peered out from her newly donned red cloak and clasped her hair into a ponytail on one side of her head. A broad grin crossed her face when she saw Reim coming in her direction, while Break went the opposite way. She giggled to herself. Now I have you.
(3)
Reim was in line at the sandwich cart, still puzzling over Break’s behavior and what he’d said. Keep my glasses clean. He removed his glasses to wipe a smidgen of dirt off them, when suddenly he found his arms would not cooperate with the cleaning process. Before he could comprehend the fact that his handkerchief simply would not make contact with the glass no matter how hard he tugged, he suddenly noticed strings tied around his arms, and felt them encircling his legs as well.
“What’ll ya have, Sir?” asked the vendor, since it was Reim’s turn to order.
“I-I, uh…” His mouth couldn’t form the words. He couldn’t even think about food. All he could think about was taking his gun out of his holster, and he did just that…against his own will.
“Whoa there!” The vendor put up his hands. “If you’re planning to rob me, you’ll have to grapple with my defenders.” The man blew a whistle, a cellar door flew open and a pair of burly men clambered out and ran up to the sandwich cart, muscular arms flexing.
Terrified, Reim could do nothing but tremble and stutter. He sensed that something was controlling his body and mind, but he could not even bring the thought to full consciousness. Slowly, he lowered his gun to his side, and then began walking away, lurching toward the alley.
The sandwich vendor, his ‘defenders’ and a couple of bystanders watched and whispered. Guess he wasn’t planning to rob us after all. What’s with that guy? It’s like he’s a marionette puppet or something, the way he walks. After Reim disappeared into the alley, the vendor shrugged his shoulders and resumed his business.
Reim entered the alley looking worried, yet malicious, his glasses in one hand and his gun in the other. Break arrived at the opposite end of the alley and strode toward him, frowning. The young woman in the red cloak hid behind a barrel and watched as her gun-wielding ‘puppet’ did her bidding through the power of her chain. Reim watched in horror as his own arm raised slowly, trembling, and pointed a gun toward his best friend.
His hand shook as his finger eased onto the trigger…the word “NO!” tried desperately to scream from his pores. His face contorted into a mixture of panic and evil intent as he pulled the trigger and the sound of gunshot echoed through the cold air. His knees gave way, but he remained mostly upright, dangling helplessly under the control of Zwei’s chain, Doldum.
Scowling, Break removed his new top hat from his head, briefly examined the bullet hole that had ripped right through it, then tossed the hat on the ground in annoyance. He removed his sword from its cane sheath, rushed toward Reim, and slashed at the threads that bound Reim to Doldum. The chestnut-haired man collapsed on the ground, found his glasses and put them on, then watched as Break deftly wound the threads into a ball of something that resembled luminous yarn.
“Well, it was a fun bit of street theater now, wasn’t it?” Zwei said to the two men, gathering her cloak around her. “But the play’s all finished now, so you can go!” She waved them away.
“Playing with dolls doesn’t suit you, Zwei-san,” said Break, picking up his hat with the holes on either side and placing it on his head. “A puppet master with two minds can’t control her puppets very well,” he muttered.
“Well, the script didn’t exactly go as planned,” she said, looking askance at Break, “but Doldum and I are more suited for each other than you know.”
“Indeed,” said Break, sneering. “A young lady who allows herself to be mindlessly controlled by a sewer rat certainly would resonate well with such a chain.”
Zwei glanced toward the sewer where Vincent was hiding.
“Sayonara, Hatter-san, Reim-san! Next time…” She waved and ran off, while Break looked in the direction she disappeared, his eyebrows narrowed. Then he sighed and helped Reim to his feet.
“I don’t suppose you got the sandwiches, mm?”
Reim shook his head, put on his glasses and brushed off his clothes.
“No. I’m not hungry any more, and I’ll tell you what, I don’t exactly feel safe at the moment, either.”
“Good thing you’re a lousy shot without your glasses, ah?”
As they walked back to where they were due to meet the carriage, Reim sneezed a few times.
“I do believe I’m coming down with a cold,” he said, wiping his nose on a handkerchief.
“I could knit you a scarf with this…” Break showed Reim the ball of Doldum threads.
“No, thank you,” he said, shivering. He took off his glasses and inspected them.
“Best not do that when you’re walking, hm?”
“What the hell is this smeary…” He took out his handkerchief to wipe them clean, and then groaned. “Oh NO!”
“What!” Break looked concerned.
“I cleaned my glasses with the wrong handkerchief!” Reim exclaimed. “The snotty one…”
Break burst out laughing, and laughed so hard and long he didn’t bother to try to say something witty or cutting.
They climbed into the carriage and sat down. Reim took off the satchel and felt the outside of it. He flipped it over and felt the other side of it, expecting to find two large tea-tin shaped lumps, but there were none. Finally he opened the satchel and peered inside, then reached through with his hand till it came out a large hole in the other end. He looked at Break, who was looking at the torn satchel, then looked up at Reim and raised an eyebrow.
“Pickpocket?” queried the white-haired man, suddenly affecting an ominous expression. “Or scissors-wielding sewer rat?”
“More likely your sword, when it cut those strings off me,” Reim muttered gravely.
“Well now, next time I’ll just leave you up on the puppet stage, and not bother freeing you,” Break said, cocking his head to one side and gripping his cane firmly.
“I’m grateful to you for saving me, Xerx, but the tea…it’s gone."
“We’ll just have to come back into town again next week!” Break put on his fake smile.
“Forget it,” Reim said, shaking his head. “Lord Barma will have to accept my story about how I got possessed by a chain as a gift instead. It’s information, he’ll like that.” He mumbled the last bit as if he were trying to convince himself.
Break held up his ruined hat to inspect it more closely.
“And I think I’ll turn this hat into a fan holder for Milady the Duchess. A few carefully placed ribbons - or perhaps these strings from Doldum as decoration - and it will be a thing of beauty.”
“So the trip wasn’t a waste after all.”
“It wasn’t.”
END
P.S. If you didn’t remember that Echo keeps a journal sometimes, check chapter 33! And if you didn’t realize that Break knows that Echo and Zwei are the same person, check chapter 41, page 31-32 (note the poison bottle, and how Break is suggesting that he felt bad for stabbing the hand that rescued the antidote for Sharon), and chapter 47, page 29 (the way that Break and Echo look at each other)
Words: 3,314
Rating: PG-13
Writer’s Note: Thanks to total_alias for beta reviewing. Set some time before Break lost his eyesight.
(1)
The carriage ride into town was bumpier than usual and Reim Lunettes was wishing he could have just stayed home. But it was nearly Christmas and he and his best friend Xerxes Break had a few more gifts to buy. These last minute gifts were for their employers, Duchess Sheryl Rainsworth and Duke Rufus Barma.
“Honestly, I don’t know why I bother sometimes,” he muttered, taking off his glasses to see what was interfering with his vision.
“Indeed,” concurred Break. “They could just buy what ever it is they want or need. But it’s the thought that counts, mm?”
“It’s the thought that counts, yes.” Reim located the speck of mud on his glasses and rubbed it furiously with his handkerchief. “I’m glad you agreed to come with me today, Xerx. I hate going into town alone.”
“And I have a feeling I’ll need you to help keep me on task, Reim-san.” The white-haired man grinned and stuck a lollipop in his mouth.
“Indeed,” muttered Reim, putting his glasses back on and looking toward the window.
Soon after, the two men arrived in town and stepped out of the carriage, asking the driver to be ready to collect them in a few hours, after they’d finished shopping. They braced themselves against the blustery wind and headed down the street in the direction of the shoppes.
A young woman with white hair and blue eyes peered out at them from the alley, then took out a journal and began to write:
10:09 am…Hatter-san and Reim-san stepped out of a carriage and began walking down the street together. They look cold.
She crept out of the alley and followed them, her feet moving quickly and quiet on the cobblestone street.
Their first stop was a bookstore. Reim and Break marched inside and looked up at the musty stacks of hardbound volumes.
“You think there’s something here that Duke Barma doesn’t already have?” said Break quietly.
“Pretty unlikely,” Reim whispered. He looked around, took a deep sigh and started walking down the aisles, expecting against all hope that something would just leap out at him from the shelves with Barma’s virtual name all over it. He hadn’t gotten to the end of the first aisle when he began to sneeze. Violently.
The young woman with the journal peeked through the stacks and took out her journal. She laid it flat on an empty shelf and began to write:
10:21am: Hatter-san and Reim-san entered a bookstore. Reim-san is having a sneezing fit. His face is very pink.
By the fifth sneeze, Break was by his side, head cocked curiously. Reim was sneezing uncontrollably into his sleeve with no signs of stopping. Other customers were poking their heads into the aisle to see what was happening, and the chestnut-haired man was never happy to be the center of attention, especially any attention that made him look snot-nosed and teary-eyed. He rushed down the aisle, heading for the door, Break close behind him.
Once they were outside, the sneezing stopped, and Reim blew his nose furiously into his spare handkerchief - the one he didn’t use to clean his glasses with.
“Agg!” he grumbled. “Musty old books.”
“Well, clearly this is a sign that Barma will not be receiving books as a gift this year.” Break tapped his cane on the ground. “Shall we move on?”
The young woman peered out the window of the bookstore, waiting until the two men continued down the street before leaving the shoppe to follow them. Her white hair blew across her face, and her long floppy sleeves provided only minimal warmth for her icy fingers.
“A hat shoppe!” exclaimed Break, pulling Reim by the arm into the hatmaker’s shoppe.
“Neither Duke Barma nor Duchess Rainsworth wear hats, need I remind you.” Reim cautiously sniffed the air in the shop as he looked around.
“Oh, this is just for us.” Break looked around at the wares, a broad smile of contentment tinged with mischievousness on his face. “Try this one, Reim!” He held up a fuzzy earflap hat suitable for the coldest of Siberian winters.
Reim looked askance at the hat, but something about the brown fur appealed to him, and he took it from Break’s hand. He looked at the inside, then the outside, turning it over in his hands until he was sure he’d found the place where his head was supposed to fit, then placed it on his head with a delicacy you might expect from someone topping a cupcake with sprinkles, while trying to prevent them from spilling off.
“Oh yes, that suits you…” Break looked at the other man, and something akin to admiration peeked out from his face. “It makes you look so warm and cozy.”
Reim turned to look at himself in the mirror, then frowned.
“You’ve got to be kidding me, Xerx.” He pulled the hat off and handed it back. “I look ridiculous.”
Break took the hat and sighed.
“Whatever will you use to keep your head warm this winter, Reim-san?” He put the hat back on the shelf. “At this rate you’re going to have to grow your hair long to keep your ears from getting frostbite, and I know you aren’t keen to do that."
“I will not grow my hair long, you know that.”
“I know, I know.” Break pointed to a top hat up on a high shelf. “I can’t quite reach that one, would you mind?”
“As long as it’s for you, not me,” Reim muttered. Standing on his tiptoes he snatched the black silk top hat and handed it to Break.
The white-haired man placed it on his head and looked at Reim.
“What do you think?” He grinned.
“You look handsome in all hats,” announced Reim, “and I look…stupid…in all hats.”
“Not true.” Break sauntered over to the other man and traced the outline of his chin with his finger. “You have quite a nice jaw line…and those lips…” Break’s lips parted slightly as he leaned forward. Reim gasped and stepped back.
“Xerx!” He looked around nervously. “We’re in public!”
Break smiled and adjusted the top hat on his head.
“Weeell…Reim-san…should I get this one, do you think?”
“I like it,” Reim said, cleaning his glasses, “but…you haven’t even looked at yourself in the mirror yet.”
“Don’t need to. I don’t care what I look like…it only matters what people like you think. After all…” Break said, pulling his wallet out of his pocket, “…I don’t have to spend all day looking at myself like you do.”
He paid for the hat, then the two men stepped out into the street. The chilling winds swirled around them, and Break had to keep his hand on his hat to keep it from flying away.
Crouched behind a barrel, the young woman completed her journal entry.
10:35am: Hatter-san and Reim-san have exited a hat shoppe. Hatter-san appears to be wearing a new hat. Echo’s fingers are feeling very cold and this makes it hard to write.
She then tiptoed after the men, about twenty paces behind them.
By the time they got to the candy shoppe, Reim’s nose and ears were flushed from the chill air.
“I’m going to have to brush up on my knitting, I think,” Break said, observing the color in the other man’s face. “Then I’ll knit you a scarf. You’d wear it, wouldn’t you?”
“I’m not making any promises,” Reim mumbled, cupping his hands over his ears to warm them. “Last time you made me something to ‘wear’ it turned out to be a doll.”
“What’s wrong with dolls?” Emily shrieked from her station on Break’s shoulder.
“Dolls are…creepy,” the bespectacled man said, shivering involuntarily.
“No creepier than the person controlling them, ah?” Break snickered into his sleeve.
(2)
The candy shoppe was another small, intimate place, and Echo did not want to be spotted, so she hid outside and gazed in the window.
10:51am: Hatter-san is feeding candies to Reim-san. Hatter-san is smiling and Reim-san is blushing, but seems to be enjoying them.
“Have you any free samples?” Break asked the shopkeeper. The two men were presented with a few broken bits of chocolate and dented truffles. The white-haired man had his share consumed in less than a minute, while Reim was still savoring his candy, eyes closed to more fully appreciate the flavors and smells of cocoa, raspberry and mint.
“Reim-san, your chocolate is melting in your hands…” Break clasped the other man’s fingers in his, just as Reim snatched the last piece and put it in his mouth before his friend could steal it. Break raised the other man’s hand to his face and licked the chocolate residue off his palm. Reim quivered at the touch and blushed furiously.
“Xerxes!” he hissed. “Don’t do that here.”
Break snickered, then dropped his hand, and set about filling an entire basket with candy tins and lollipops.
“We should have stopped here last.” Reim looked disapprovingly at the full basket. “Now we have to lug all that around with us…unless they do delivery.”
“Yes, they do delivery. I shop here all the time. And, if Duke Barma likes candy, then you can pay for half of this and consider your shopping done.”
“As a matter of fact, my lord does not appreciate candy in the least.”
“I knew there was something very wrong with that man,” Break muttered, putting his goods on the counter and arranged for them to be delivered to Rainsworth manor under his name.
Momentarily they were out on the street again and heading for a tea shoppe, with Echo tagging behind them, hand clasped on her journal. Break carelessly discarded a candy wrapper on the street and Echo picked it up, smoothed it out and placed it into her journal as a bookmark. She watched the two men enter the tea shoppe, then crept into the alley where a blond man was waiting for her. She handed him her journal and he glanced over her recent entries with a mischievous smile.
“You’ve done well, Echo,” he said, fingering the candy wrapper. “but that’s enough.” He placed his hand on her forehead. “You’ve been naughty,” he murmured ominously. “You’ve enjoyed tailing Hatter-san and his friend a little too much I think.”
“Vincent-sama…” she whispered, trying to choke back the tears as she watched Vincent open a satchel and pull out a red cloak.
)(
“Tea is a sure thing, ah?” said Break, holding the door for Reim. As the bespectacled man passed through, Break caught a glimpse of their follower’s floppy white sleeves and white boots as she ducked into the alley. With the slightest tinge of malice on his face, he glanced up and down the street before entering the tea shoppe. Where Echo lurks, Break thought, there also must lurk the Sewer Rat, Vincent Nightray. And where there is an Echo, there is also a Noise…a certain noisy Baskerville with a penchant for puppeteering…
Inside, Reim was inspecting some decorative tins filled with the finest of teas: First Flush Darjeeling, Margaret’s Hope Darjeeling, and some exotic blend from overseas.
“Found something, Reim-san?” Break asked, clapping his friend on the shoulder.
“Indeed, I think my lord would appreciate some of this tea with the fans on the tin. I believe it’s from his home country.”
Break picked up a flowered tin and inspected the writing on it.
“And, I believe this will work for Milady the Duchess.” He grinned and glanced at the door. “Let’s pay and go, hm?”
“Would you gentlemen care to try the latest fruit tea?” asked the shopkeeper, offering small cups on a silver tray.
“Thank you,” said Reim, taking a cup and sipping it.
Break drank his tea in one quick swig and glanced around the shoppe warily. While they were purchasing their wares, he kept looking toward the door.
“Something wrong, Xerx?” Reim tucked both tea tins into the small satchel he’d brought.
“Eh…nothing.” Break smiled slightly, tapped his cane on the ground and they headed for the door. When they stepped outside, Break looked up and down the street, then poked his head in the alley.
“Looking for something?” Reim wrapped his arms around himself to try to keep warm.
“Eh…yarn shoppe?” Break said, tapping his finger to his chin. “Yes, a yarn shoppe.”
“Doubt it’s in the alley, Xerx,” Reim mumbled. “I’m getting hungry. What do you say I get us some sandwiches from that cart over there?”
“You do that, Reim, while I look for that…yarn shoppe, mm? I’ll meet you back here in ten minutes. Oh and uh…keep your glasses clean, would you?” Break grinned and tipped his hat.
What on earth does he mean by that? Reim wondered to himself.
Over by the sandwich vendor, the young woman peered out from her newly donned red cloak and clasped her hair into a ponytail on one side of her head. A broad grin crossed her face when she saw Reim coming in her direction, while Break went the opposite way. She giggled to herself. Now I have you.
(3)
Reim was in line at the sandwich cart, still puzzling over Break’s behavior and what he’d said. Keep my glasses clean. He removed his glasses to wipe a smidgen of dirt off them, when suddenly he found his arms would not cooperate with the cleaning process. Before he could comprehend the fact that his handkerchief simply would not make contact with the glass no matter how hard he tugged, he suddenly noticed strings tied around his arms, and felt them encircling his legs as well.
“What’ll ya have, Sir?” asked the vendor, since it was Reim’s turn to order.
“I-I, uh…” His mouth couldn’t form the words. He couldn’t even think about food. All he could think about was taking his gun out of his holster, and he did just that…against his own will.
“Whoa there!” The vendor put up his hands. “If you’re planning to rob me, you’ll have to grapple with my defenders.” The man blew a whistle, a cellar door flew open and a pair of burly men clambered out and ran up to the sandwich cart, muscular arms flexing.
Terrified, Reim could do nothing but tremble and stutter. He sensed that something was controlling his body and mind, but he could not even bring the thought to full consciousness. Slowly, he lowered his gun to his side, and then began walking away, lurching toward the alley.
The sandwich vendor, his ‘defenders’ and a couple of bystanders watched and whispered. Guess he wasn’t planning to rob us after all. What’s with that guy? It’s like he’s a marionette puppet or something, the way he walks. After Reim disappeared into the alley, the vendor shrugged his shoulders and resumed his business.
Reim entered the alley looking worried, yet malicious, his glasses in one hand and his gun in the other. Break arrived at the opposite end of the alley and strode toward him, frowning. The young woman in the red cloak hid behind a barrel and watched as her gun-wielding ‘puppet’ did her bidding through the power of her chain. Reim watched in horror as his own arm raised slowly, trembling, and pointed a gun toward his best friend.
His hand shook as his finger eased onto the trigger…the word “NO!” tried desperately to scream from his pores. His face contorted into a mixture of panic and evil intent as he pulled the trigger and the sound of gunshot echoed through the cold air. His knees gave way, but he remained mostly upright, dangling helplessly under the control of Zwei’s chain, Doldum.
Scowling, Break removed his new top hat from his head, briefly examined the bullet hole that had ripped right through it, then tossed the hat on the ground in annoyance. He removed his sword from its cane sheath, rushed toward Reim, and slashed at the threads that bound Reim to Doldum. The chestnut-haired man collapsed on the ground, found his glasses and put them on, then watched as Break deftly wound the threads into a ball of something that resembled luminous yarn.
“Well, it was a fun bit of street theater now, wasn’t it?” Zwei said to the two men, gathering her cloak around her. “But the play’s all finished now, so you can go!” She waved them away.
“Playing with dolls doesn’t suit you, Zwei-san,” said Break, picking up his hat with the holes on either side and placing it on his head. “A puppet master with two minds can’t control her puppets very well,” he muttered.
“Well, the script didn’t exactly go as planned,” she said, looking askance at Break, “but Doldum and I are more suited for each other than you know.”
“Indeed,” said Break, sneering. “A young lady who allows herself to be mindlessly controlled by a sewer rat certainly would resonate well with such a chain.”
Zwei glanced toward the sewer where Vincent was hiding.
“Sayonara, Hatter-san, Reim-san! Next time…” She waved and ran off, while Break looked in the direction she disappeared, his eyebrows narrowed. Then he sighed and helped Reim to his feet.
“I don’t suppose you got the sandwiches, mm?”
Reim shook his head, put on his glasses and brushed off his clothes.
“No. I’m not hungry any more, and I’ll tell you what, I don’t exactly feel safe at the moment, either.”
“Good thing you’re a lousy shot without your glasses, ah?”
As they walked back to where they were due to meet the carriage, Reim sneezed a few times.
“I do believe I’m coming down with a cold,” he said, wiping his nose on a handkerchief.
“I could knit you a scarf with this…” Break showed Reim the ball of Doldum threads.
“No, thank you,” he said, shivering. He took off his glasses and inspected them.
“Best not do that when you’re walking, hm?”
“What the hell is this smeary…” He took out his handkerchief to wipe them clean, and then groaned. “Oh NO!”
“What!” Break looked concerned.
“I cleaned my glasses with the wrong handkerchief!” Reim exclaimed. “The snotty one…”
Break burst out laughing, and laughed so hard and long he didn’t bother to try to say something witty or cutting.
They climbed into the carriage and sat down. Reim took off the satchel and felt the outside of it. He flipped it over and felt the other side of it, expecting to find two large tea-tin shaped lumps, but there were none. Finally he opened the satchel and peered inside, then reached through with his hand till it came out a large hole in the other end. He looked at Break, who was looking at the torn satchel, then looked up at Reim and raised an eyebrow.
“Pickpocket?” queried the white-haired man, suddenly affecting an ominous expression. “Or scissors-wielding sewer rat?”
“More likely your sword, when it cut those strings off me,” Reim muttered gravely.
“Well now, next time I’ll just leave you up on the puppet stage, and not bother freeing you,” Break said, cocking his head to one side and gripping his cane firmly.
“I’m grateful to you for saving me, Xerx, but the tea…it’s gone."
“We’ll just have to come back into town again next week!” Break put on his fake smile.
“Forget it,” Reim said, shaking his head. “Lord Barma will have to accept my story about how I got possessed by a chain as a gift instead. It’s information, he’ll like that.” He mumbled the last bit as if he were trying to convince himself.
Break held up his ruined hat to inspect it more closely.
“And I think I’ll turn this hat into a fan holder for Milady the Duchess. A few carefully placed ribbons - or perhaps these strings from Doldum as decoration - and it will be a thing of beauty.”
“So the trip wasn’t a waste after all.”
“It wasn’t.”
END
P.S. If you didn’t remember that Echo keeps a journal sometimes, check chapter 33! And if you didn’t realize that Break knows that Echo and Zwei are the same person, check chapter 41, page 31-32 (note the poison bottle, and how Break is suggesting that he felt bad for stabbing the hand that rescued the antidote for Sharon), and chapter 47, page 29 (the way that Break and Echo look at each other)