Alter/Native
Title: Headed to Auction
Word Count: 435
Crossposted: HERE at runaway-tales
"Well, that solves that, then," Kestrel announced, dropping into the leather armchair across from Matthew. She tossed a paper bag containing some sort of sugary scone-like creation onto his lap, startling him enough that he sloshed his coffee on himself. "How fast do you thing you can drive to Indershire Academy?"
"The prepatory school?" he asked, bewildered, as he tried to sop coffee off the knee of his slacks. "I don't know, why?"
"Matty, we didn't hire you so you could answer 'I don't know' to all of my questions. That's not what field agents do."
"Actually, I was hired to do research, and you -"
"Even more reason to not say 'I don't know' to everything," she pointed out.
"- just took it upon yourself to commandeer me like you do laptops and parking passes." He tossed his sodden napkins onto the table between them, then peered warily into the bag on his lap, poking at the scone-thing with his long fingers. "And you know I can't eat this." Kestrel's eyes flicked up to him from her tablet long enough to roll dramatically in their sockets.
"A couple bites won't kill you," she mentioned. "How are you ever going to acclimate to human food if you don't eat it?"
"You don't just acclimate yourself to poison, Kes."
"Sure you do. Bad guys do it in the movies all the time."
He opened his mouth to issue a correction as she flipped through screens on her tablet, but found himself more concerned with what her attention was focused on. To say that Kestrel had the attention span of a gnat wasn't entirely correct - first off, a gnat likely had considerably more focus, and secondly, Kestrel's constant distraction and 'switching of tracks' had a lot to do with her remarkable knack for a specific type of clairvoyance, one that zeroed in on a particular type of event, creature, and person.
Matthew still wasn't sure how he factored into the whole thing. He guessed it was because he could drive a car. And perhaps because he actually had people skills.
"What's at Indershire?"
"Orphan auction," she said distractedly, studying her screen with unnerving intensity.
"The auction?"
"Yep."
"Isn't it invite only?" he asked. She glanced up again, and turned the tablet around just briefly so that he could see the coded e-invites on the screen. "Wait, how did you -"
"Long story," she said, which was code for 'long story involving threats, bribery, and perhaps a murder or two'.
"And we're going there to...?"
"Mama needs a new psychometrist," she said with a grin.
Word Count: 435
Crossposted: HERE at runaway-tales
"Well, that solves that, then," Kestrel announced, dropping into the leather armchair across from Matthew. She tossed a paper bag containing some sort of sugary scone-like creation onto his lap, startling him enough that he sloshed his coffee on himself. "How fast do you thing you can drive to Indershire Academy?"
"The prepatory school?" he asked, bewildered, as he tried to sop coffee off the knee of his slacks. "I don't know, why?"
"Matty, we didn't hire you so you could answer 'I don't know' to all of my questions. That's not what field agents do."
"Actually, I was hired to do research, and you -"
"Even more reason to not say 'I don't know' to everything," she pointed out.
"- just took it upon yourself to commandeer me like you do laptops and parking passes." He tossed his sodden napkins onto the table between them, then peered warily into the bag on his lap, poking at the scone-thing with his long fingers. "And you know I can't eat this." Kestrel's eyes flicked up to him from her tablet long enough to roll dramatically in their sockets.
"A couple bites won't kill you," she mentioned. "How are you ever going to acclimate to human food if you don't eat it?"
"You don't just acclimate yourself to poison, Kes."
"Sure you do. Bad guys do it in the movies all the time."
He opened his mouth to issue a correction as she flipped through screens on her tablet, but found himself more concerned with what her attention was focused on. To say that Kestrel had the attention span of a gnat wasn't entirely correct - first off, a gnat likely had considerably more focus, and secondly, Kestrel's constant distraction and 'switching of tracks' had a lot to do with her remarkable knack for a specific type of clairvoyance, one that zeroed in on a particular type of event, creature, and person.
Matthew still wasn't sure how he factored into the whole thing. He guessed it was because he could drive a car. And perhaps because he actually had people skills.
"What's at Indershire?"
"Orphan auction," she said distractedly, studying her screen with unnerving intensity.
"The auction?"
"Yep."
"Isn't it invite only?" he asked. She glanced up again, and turned the tablet around just briefly so that he could see the coded e-invites on the screen. "Wait, how did you -"
"Long story," she said, which was code for 'long story involving threats, bribery, and perhaps a murder or two'.
"And we're going there to...?"
"Mama needs a new psychometrist," she said with a grin.