[ficlet] Consulting a long-winded Oracle.
Title: Consulting a long-winded Oracle.
Fandom: None! This is original fic! :D
Rating: G-PG?
Warnings: None.
Pairings/Characters: Quentin Maines, The Assistant. (Andrew Cole is mentioned.)
Word Count: 669 words.
Summary: Maines doesn't want to ask him for advice, but he is the most reliable advice-giver he knows.
Note: This is the eleventh of my Christmas gift fics, and this one is a specific present to jabber_moose, who wouldn't give me a prompt. So I went for broke and used our OCs, and then Azzant got long-winded. I hope she likes it!
So. Yes. If you're reading this and you aren't jabber_moose then read this cautiously as it's lacking context. :)
---
Maines looked up, offering up a silent plea for sanity before he opened the door to the shop, the bell on the door tinkling merrily as he stepped inside.
"Ah, Mr. Quentin Maines, it is so very pleasing to see your cherubic face once again! I understand that you are here to ask me several questions regarding your employment and perhaps gain some advice regarding your long standing attraction on your immediate superior. Is that correct?"
Maines resisted the urge to pinch his nose and walk right out again, and instead approached the counter of the small shop warily, keeping a steady eye on the Assistant.
"Please," Maines said quietly. "I don't want this to get complicated."
"I understand the desire for a normal conversation and straight talking but I am afraid that I am unable to indulge your wishes. If you will kindly begin to ask me the questions you want answered I can begin to offer you semi-coherent answers that will solve any of your troubles should you apply the answers properly!"
The Assistant beamed at Maines before turning up two glasses of water from under the counter, then stood quietly, attentive and ready to speak again.
"Right..." Maines didn't pick up a glass and instead looked off to the side. "Do I have any chance at all with him?"
They both knew that Maines wanted a yes or no answer. What he got instead was this: "Will the course of true love ever run smoothly? My dear sir, considering that Andrew Cole wants rather desperately to get inside your pants for non-airport safety inspection reasons, you most definitely have a chance with him. However, as you are interested in more than a covert rendezvous in a dark back alley or in an illicit hotel, matters have just become that much more complicated. My master will not release Cole from his service any time soon, even if Cole wanted it (and he does not) and so not only is there the problem with workplace relationships, there is also the issue of showing any form of relational weakness before our dear leader, and even as Cole wants to ride off into the sunset with you on a motorcycle (that would be the ideal gift for him, speaking of courting) he must be aware that showing any emotion for you may get your into deep, painful trouble. Do not despair! You two are, of course, ideal leads in a romantic bodice-ripper and so I remain confident that you two will be perfectly capable of carving out a private niche where you can live out your lives without the risk of gunfire."
"...is that a yes or no?"
"That, dear Maines, is my answer." The Assistant beamed at him, hands clasped.
"You're not very good at giving straight answers," Maines said, stating the obvious.
"I am fully aware of this problem and have attempted numerous solutions for it, but alas the art of a short and straightforward answer eludes me unless in the presence of Mr. Dalliard."
"And there's no way I'm asking my questions with him here. Right."
"You will simply have to bear with me, Quentin Maines, and if you want, I can provide paper with which to take notes when consulting me."
"...no, no thank you." Maines sighed and turned to leave. "But...he is interested? In me?"
"Indubitably, dear boy! If I may, I suggest being yourself precisely and showing up at this fine address," The Assistant passed over a card,"at seven-forty-three in the evening and knocking lightly but firmly upon the door. If you time this correctly you will find him to be receptive to you, which I believe will solve this initial problem of first intimate contact."
Maines read the address printed on the card and looked at the Assistant. "Thanks," He said, meaning it.
Thankfully the Assistant only beamed at him and said nothing more as Maines turned and left, the bell on the door tinkling merrily once again as it closed behind him.
---
Fandom: None! This is original fic! :D
Rating: G-PG?
Warnings: None.
Pairings/Characters: Quentin Maines, The Assistant. (Andrew Cole is mentioned.)
Word Count: 669 words.
Summary: Maines doesn't want to ask him for advice, but he is the most reliable advice-giver he knows.
Note: This is the eleventh of my Christmas gift fics, and this one is a specific present to jabber_moose, who wouldn't give me a prompt. So I went for broke and used our OCs, and then Azzant got long-winded. I hope she likes it!
So. Yes. If you're reading this and you aren't jabber_moose then read this cautiously as it's lacking context. :)
---
Maines looked up, offering up a silent plea for sanity before he opened the door to the shop, the bell on the door tinkling merrily as he stepped inside.
"Ah, Mr. Quentin Maines, it is so very pleasing to see your cherubic face once again! I understand that you are here to ask me several questions regarding your employment and perhaps gain some advice regarding your long standing attraction on your immediate superior. Is that correct?"
Maines resisted the urge to pinch his nose and walk right out again, and instead approached the counter of the small shop warily, keeping a steady eye on the Assistant.
"Please," Maines said quietly. "I don't want this to get complicated."
"I understand the desire for a normal conversation and straight talking but I am afraid that I am unable to indulge your wishes. If you will kindly begin to ask me the questions you want answered I can begin to offer you semi-coherent answers that will solve any of your troubles should you apply the answers properly!"
The Assistant beamed at Maines before turning up two glasses of water from under the counter, then stood quietly, attentive and ready to speak again.
"Right..." Maines didn't pick up a glass and instead looked off to the side. "Do I have any chance at all with him?"
They both knew that Maines wanted a yes or no answer. What he got instead was this: "Will the course of true love ever run smoothly? My dear sir, considering that Andrew Cole wants rather desperately to get inside your pants for non-airport safety inspection reasons, you most definitely have a chance with him. However, as you are interested in more than a covert rendezvous in a dark back alley or in an illicit hotel, matters have just become that much more complicated. My master will not release Cole from his service any time soon, even if Cole wanted it (and he does not) and so not only is there the problem with workplace relationships, there is also the issue of showing any form of relational weakness before our dear leader, and even as Cole wants to ride off into the sunset with you on a motorcycle (that would be the ideal gift for him, speaking of courting) he must be aware that showing any emotion for you may get your into deep, painful trouble. Do not despair! You two are, of course, ideal leads in a romantic bodice-ripper and so I remain confident that you two will be perfectly capable of carving out a private niche where you can live out your lives without the risk of gunfire."
"...is that a yes or no?"
"That, dear Maines, is my answer." The Assistant beamed at him, hands clasped.
"You're not very good at giving straight answers," Maines said, stating the obvious.
"I am fully aware of this problem and have attempted numerous solutions for it, but alas the art of a short and straightforward answer eludes me unless in the presence of Mr. Dalliard."
"And there's no way I'm asking my questions with him here. Right."
"You will simply have to bear with me, Quentin Maines, and if you want, I can provide paper with which to take notes when consulting me."
"...no, no thank you." Maines sighed and turned to leave. "But...he is interested? In me?"
"Indubitably, dear boy! If I may, I suggest being yourself precisely and showing up at this fine address," The Assistant passed over a card,"at seven-forty-three in the evening and knocking lightly but firmly upon the door. If you time this correctly you will find him to be receptive to you, which I believe will solve this initial problem of first intimate contact."
Maines read the address printed on the card and looked at the Assistant. "Thanks," He said, meaning it.
Thankfully the Assistant only beamed at him and said nothing more as Maines turned and left, the bell on the door tinkling merrily once again as it closed behind him.
---