Five Times Coreen Fennel Didn't Kiss Henry Fitzroy (And One Time She Did) ~ 2/6
Title: Five Times Coreen Fennel Didn't Kiss Henry Fitzroy (And One Time She Did)
Author: WiliQueen
Pairing: n/a
Rating: T
Bookverse or TVverse: TV
Spoiler: n/a
Disclaimer: None of these people, places, or things belong to me. I promise to return them in more or less the condition I found them, with no money of any kind changing hands.
Warnings: n/a
Summary: A sampler platter of scenes from a friendship.
[If you missed it: Part 1]
2: All Hallows Eve
Henry answered Coreen's knock at his door with a pencil tucked behind his ear and an amused smirk. "Well, if it isn't the fairest of them all."
She picked up a fold of her costume's full skirt and attempted a curtsey. It came out a little awkward, but not too bad for someone with a satchel full of books in her other hand and a good eight years since her last ballet recital.
"Snow White was legitimate," he pointed out with a chuckle. "You should have waited for me to defer to you." There couldn't be much occasion to bow these days, but he sure didn't look out of practice.
Okay, so maybe she had been more than a little awkward. "I can't imagine keeping track of that stuff all the time."
"Do you remember learning to say 'please' and 'thank you,' or to look both ways before crossing the street? It really wasn't much different." He crossed his arms and leaned on the doorframe. "I'm afraid I don't have any treats. So what's the trick?"
Coreen winced. "I know, you're supposed to be working. I heard Vicki promise not to pull you into this case so you could make your deadline."
"And Vicki is...?"
"Right this minute? Probably rifling Gilbert Darby's file cabinets."
"I see. And you are...?"
"The messenger who doesn't want to be shot?" she answered with what she hoped was a disarming smile. Henry's courtesy toward her was generally tinged with either amusement or annoyance. If those were her choices, she would much rather have the amusement. She wasn't sure which one it was right now, but at least he stepped back from the door to let her in.
"I spent half the day online, and the other half in the U library, and I'm coming up empty. Very frustrating. I really didn't want to bother you, but Vicki's right, you might at least know something that'll give me a starting point. They sort of look like one of the Linear scripts, but they're not. I don't think they're anything occult, but they're definitely old, and -- "
"Coreen." That was unmistakably on the annoyed side.
"And you have no idea what I'm talking about. Sorry." She leaned over the back of his couch to plunk her satchel on it and pulled out the file folder. Flipping it open, she spread the photos across it on top of the couch. "Vicki told you about the shipment that went missing, and then un-missing, except for the one crate, right?" When he nodded, she went on, "Well, it turned up this morning, on a supermarket loading dock out in Etobicoke. Don't ask, I have no idea. But it is the right crate, with the manifest still sealed in the pocket on the outside and everything. Except all the lab equipment that's supposed to be in it is missing, and instead there are these little rocks with symbols carved on them, spread all through the packing material."
Henry frowned at the photos. "Some sort of practical joke?"
With a shrug, Coreen admitted, "Makes as much sense as anything we've come up with. I mean, if the point was to get the stuff that's supposed to be in the crate, why go to that trouble?"
"Unless the stones mean something."
"Right. But I have no idea what. I'm pretty sure it's just coincidence that they look like Linear A or B, just because there are only so many different marks you can make with a sharp point scratching on stone."
He looked up at her about halfway through the last sentence. "That sounds familiar."
She followed him over to a bookcase, watching him run a finger along the spines. "Really? Because I'm totally guessing."
"A news article I read not too long ago," he said. "About small stones like that found at a number of Neolithic sites in Europe, and a theory that they represent a sort of proto-writing, native to the area long before writing is known to have spread from Mesopotamia. But I believe the prevailing theory is still that they have ritual significance -- "
"When in doubt, huh?"
" -- and I recognized them from some much older references." Stepping back, he muttered, "No, that's not it. Where was it...?"
Coreen looked around the room. Was that more bookcases, behind that partition? "Hey, what about over here?" she asked, already on her way to check them out.
"Stop."
The single word seemed to take hold of her with physical force, rooting her to the spot. It wasn't loud, but it resonated far deeper than his normal voice, with an edge of... not anger. Fear?
Then he was in front of her, fathomless black eyes locked on hers, pushing everything else to the edges of her perception. "There is nothing of interest on those shelves." She felt more than heard the whisper threading through her mind, until it blended into the fabric of her thoughts and there was no telling the difference. "You will not ask me about them again."
Coreen caught herself staring at the edge of a partition and shook her head, turning back to face Henry, who stood behind the couch, leafing through one of her library books. "And now I'm just wandering aimlessly around the room. That's constructive."
"I assumed it was to help you think," he noted mildly, not looking up from the book.
"Well, in that case it's not working," she sighed, walking back over to him, "because I've completely lost my train of thought."
"Speaking of which, I do need to get back to work." He closed the book he was holding and put it on the coffee table. "I don't think your answer is here. There's someone I can call, but not until at least four o'clock our time." The interest that piqued must have been obvious on her face, because he added, "It would be inconsiderate."
"Oh." She tried not to sound too disappointed.
"In the meantime, I assume you have plans?"
"Of course. Halloween is huge at the Underground." Grinning proudly, she explained, "Lots of mundanes buy tickets to go slumming. Lexia lets me in free for doing a little ambassador duty."
And there was that amusement again. "I'm almost sorry to be missing the show."
"I know, I know, it must seem kind of silly to you that I still go there, after all the real stuff I've seen you guys deal with. And you being, y'know..." She waved a hand in his direction. "You. But there's more to it, really, and... well, they're my friends."
"Then you have nothing to explain." He nodded toward her satchel still on the couch. "Leave those here. I'll take a look if I have time, see if I recognize anything you missed. Once I've talked to my contact, I'll call Vicki and let her know if I have anything."
"Are you sure? Maybe I should -- "
"Coreen, you've been working on this all day. Taking a break to clear your head can only help. Even Vicki can't argue with that."
"You're kidding, right? There is nothing Vicki can't argue with." Henry acknowledged this with a rueful smile, and Coreen added, "In this case, though, she probably won't, since she said the same thing first."
"Good. Then you can go enjoy your evening." He didn't actually say and please leave me alone, but it came across clearly anyway. Including the please, somehow, which was pretty impressive.
It was almost enough to make her rethink the next thing that came out of her mouth. Almost. She clasped her hands behind her back, twisting a little as she stepped forward so her skirt swished around her ankles. Smiling up at him, she noted, "You do realize you're the only prince I know."
"You look pretty awake to me," he countered without missing a beat.
Damn. She'd thought that one was pretty inspired. At least he'd answered; usually he just pretended she hadn't said anything at all. "Okay. Well, then..." She paused a second on her way to the door, glancing over at the partition where she had been pacing before. Wasn't there something she was going to ask him? It couldn't be very important; she'd think of it later. "Thanks for taking a look at that. I hope I didn't throw you off too much by interrupting."
"I'll live." For a second, she thought she caught a flash of that worried look he gave her whenever she got excited about a new supernatural topic. He opened the door to show her out, adding just before he closed it behind her, "Don't take any apples from strangers."
[Complete story archived here.]
Author: WiliQueen
Pairing: n/a
Rating: T
Bookverse or TVverse: TV
Spoiler: n/a
Disclaimer: None of these people, places, or things belong to me. I promise to return them in more or less the condition I found them, with no money of any kind changing hands.
Warnings: n/a
Summary: A sampler platter of scenes from a friendship.
[If you missed it: Part 1]
2: All Hallows Eve
Henry answered Coreen's knock at his door with a pencil tucked behind his ear and an amused smirk. "Well, if it isn't the fairest of them all."
She picked up a fold of her costume's full skirt and attempted a curtsey. It came out a little awkward, but not too bad for someone with a satchel full of books in her other hand and a good eight years since her last ballet recital.
"Snow White was legitimate," he pointed out with a chuckle. "You should have waited for me to defer to you." There couldn't be much occasion to bow these days, but he sure didn't look out of practice.
Okay, so maybe she had been more than a little awkward. "I can't imagine keeping track of that stuff all the time."
"Do you remember learning to say 'please' and 'thank you,' or to look both ways before crossing the street? It really wasn't much different." He crossed his arms and leaned on the doorframe. "I'm afraid I don't have any treats. So what's the trick?"
Coreen winced. "I know, you're supposed to be working. I heard Vicki promise not to pull you into this case so you could make your deadline."
"And Vicki is...?"
"Right this minute? Probably rifling Gilbert Darby's file cabinets."
"I see. And you are...?"
"The messenger who doesn't want to be shot?" she answered with what she hoped was a disarming smile. Henry's courtesy toward her was generally tinged with either amusement or annoyance. If those were her choices, she would much rather have the amusement. She wasn't sure which one it was right now, but at least he stepped back from the door to let her in.
"I spent half the day online, and the other half in the U library, and I'm coming up empty. Very frustrating. I really didn't want to bother you, but Vicki's right, you might at least know something that'll give me a starting point. They sort of look like one of the Linear scripts, but they're not. I don't think they're anything occult, but they're definitely old, and -- "
"Coreen." That was unmistakably on the annoyed side.
"And you have no idea what I'm talking about. Sorry." She leaned over the back of his couch to plunk her satchel on it and pulled out the file folder. Flipping it open, she spread the photos across it on top of the couch. "Vicki told you about the shipment that went missing, and then un-missing, except for the one crate, right?" When he nodded, she went on, "Well, it turned up this morning, on a supermarket loading dock out in Etobicoke. Don't ask, I have no idea. But it is the right crate, with the manifest still sealed in the pocket on the outside and everything. Except all the lab equipment that's supposed to be in it is missing, and instead there are these little rocks with symbols carved on them, spread all through the packing material."
Henry frowned at the photos. "Some sort of practical joke?"
With a shrug, Coreen admitted, "Makes as much sense as anything we've come up with. I mean, if the point was to get the stuff that's supposed to be in the crate, why go to that trouble?"
"Unless the stones mean something."
"Right. But I have no idea what. I'm pretty sure it's just coincidence that they look like Linear A or B, just because there are only so many different marks you can make with a sharp point scratching on stone."
He looked up at her about halfway through the last sentence. "That sounds familiar."
She followed him over to a bookcase, watching him run a finger along the spines. "Really? Because I'm totally guessing."
"A news article I read not too long ago," he said. "About small stones like that found at a number of Neolithic sites in Europe, and a theory that they represent a sort of proto-writing, native to the area long before writing is known to have spread from Mesopotamia. But I believe the prevailing theory is still that they have ritual significance -- "
"When in doubt, huh?"
" -- and I recognized them from some much older references." Stepping back, he muttered, "No, that's not it. Where was it...?"
Coreen looked around the room. Was that more bookcases, behind that partition? "Hey, what about over here?" she asked, already on her way to check them out.
"Stop."
The single word seemed to take hold of her with physical force, rooting her to the spot. It wasn't loud, but it resonated far deeper than his normal voice, with an edge of... not anger. Fear?
Then he was in front of her, fathomless black eyes locked on hers, pushing everything else to the edges of her perception. "There is nothing of interest on those shelves." She felt more than heard the whisper threading through her mind, until it blended into the fabric of her thoughts and there was no telling the difference. "You will not ask me about them again."
Coreen caught herself staring at the edge of a partition and shook her head, turning back to face Henry, who stood behind the couch, leafing through one of her library books. "And now I'm just wandering aimlessly around the room. That's constructive."
"I assumed it was to help you think," he noted mildly, not looking up from the book.
"Well, in that case it's not working," she sighed, walking back over to him, "because I've completely lost my train of thought."
"Speaking of which, I do need to get back to work." He closed the book he was holding and put it on the coffee table. "I don't think your answer is here. There's someone I can call, but not until at least four o'clock our time." The interest that piqued must have been obvious on her face, because he added, "It would be inconsiderate."
"Oh." She tried not to sound too disappointed.
"In the meantime, I assume you have plans?"
"Of course. Halloween is huge at the Underground." Grinning proudly, she explained, "Lots of mundanes buy tickets to go slumming. Lexia lets me in free for doing a little ambassador duty."
And there was that amusement again. "I'm almost sorry to be missing the show."
"I know, I know, it must seem kind of silly to you that I still go there, after all the real stuff I've seen you guys deal with. And you being, y'know..." She waved a hand in his direction. "You. But there's more to it, really, and... well, they're my friends."
"Then you have nothing to explain." He nodded toward her satchel still on the couch. "Leave those here. I'll take a look if I have time, see if I recognize anything you missed. Once I've talked to my contact, I'll call Vicki and let her know if I have anything."
"Are you sure? Maybe I should -- "
"Coreen, you've been working on this all day. Taking a break to clear your head can only help. Even Vicki can't argue with that."
"You're kidding, right? There is nothing Vicki can't argue with." Henry acknowledged this with a rueful smile, and Coreen added, "In this case, though, she probably won't, since she said the same thing first."
"Good. Then you can go enjoy your evening." He didn't actually say and please leave me alone, but it came across clearly anyway. Including the please, somehow, which was pretty impressive.
It was almost enough to make her rethink the next thing that came out of her mouth. Almost. She clasped her hands behind her back, twisting a little as she stepped forward so her skirt swished around her ankles. Smiling up at him, she noted, "You do realize you're the only prince I know."
"You look pretty awake to me," he countered without missing a beat.
Damn. She'd thought that one was pretty inspired. At least he'd answered; usually he just pretended she hadn't said anything at all. "Okay. Well, then..." She paused a second on her way to the door, glancing over at the partition where she had been pacing before. Wasn't there something she was going to ask him? It couldn't be very important; she'd think of it later. "Thanks for taking a look at that. I hope I didn't throw you off too much by interrupting."
"I'll live." For a second, she thought she caught a flash of that worried look he gave her whenever she got excited about a new supernatural topic. He opened the door to show her out, adding just before he closed it behind her, "Don't take any apples from strangers."
[Complete story archived here.]