Post by Clark Davis on May 13, 2005 16:38:54 GMT -8
Wednesday Night, Vashon Island, Midnight.
Regan drove her car up the drive slowly; she turned the radio off when she pulled to a stop, sitting there for a moment before she sighed and turned off the engine, getting out of the car. Her hair was in it's customary pigtails, and she crunched through dewy, late night grass in her boots, tucking her keys into the front pocket of her leather jacket. She started slipping off the jacket when she opened the front door, lost in thought.
She didn't notice Angus pacing through the den, on his phone, stopping when he saw Regan.
"...Uh-huh... Good evening, counselor." He hung up, giving her a smile. "Hey, darlin."
She looked up at his words, giving him a quizzical look. "Hey sweetheart. Who was that?"
"Legal counsel for our cousin."
He watched her tired, uncomprehending look.
Angus smiled and chuckled. "...Sorry. Used to Ashland's phone paranoia. That was Kenneth."
She nodded, fingers twisting in one black pigtail. "Any good news?"
"I was just making sure a few loose threads were being taken care of." Angus walked up to her, putting an arm around her waist. "Making sure Scion gets the best case he can, with as many cards stacked in his favor as he can muster."
She nodded again, absentmindedly murmuring an affirmative noise.
"If he's forced to play their games, I intend to see him win."
"I hope he can."
He tilted her chin up and laid a soft kiss on her lips. "Evenin'."
She laid her hand on his cheek, briefly coming back to herself for a short, gentle kiss. "Evenin', darlin'."
His fingers ran lightly through the hair on the top of her head, pulled tight by her pigtails. "How's your's goin' tonight?"
"It's all right. Had a cup of coffee and a chat with a friend in town."
"How'd that go?"
"Pretty good. Had to wrap up in time for us to get back to our lives." She gave him a wry smile. "Why you askin', darlin'? Jealous?"
Angus scoffed a bit. "Jealous over just a friendly cup of coffee? Give me more credit." He grinned and winked. C'mon over." He pulled her lightly in the direction of the couch.
She gave an odd look, but followed. "What did Ashland have to say?"
Angus sat down, leaning back against the arm of the sofa. "Eh, nothing really new. Seemed slightly offended when I gave him some advice. I assured him I was simply looking out for everyone involved on our end."
She gave him a long look, eyebrows raised. "What kind of advice?"
"Status can go a long way if you play that game. I pointed out that there seems to be a discrepancy in how much is perceived in Scion up here against what I've heard about him."
She nods absentmindedly, gently biting her thumbnail.
"He seemed a little hurt when he perceived it as my questioning his abilities as Harpy..." Angus paused, reading the far-off, pensive look on her face. "...What's on your mind, darlin'?"
She murmured to herself, "That would be unwise to question." Her head pulled up. "On my mind?"
His head cocked a bit in listening.
"Nothin', Angus. Just got some stray thoughts. Flutterbies, that's all."
He stroked her cheek and his face grew inquisitive. "What about?"
"Just some things on my mind. Possibilities of things, I guess."
She shrugged, giving him a tired look. "This city's got a lot more too it then I ever imagined."
"What sort of possibilities?"
"Political, I guess." She tilted her head, pursing her lips. "It's nothin', I think."
"Political nothin', huh?" He pulled her closer to him on the couch and the tip of his nose grazed her forehead. "Tell me about political nothin'."
She laughs, softly. "I'm just scheming, darlin'."
Angus grinned. "I love schemes... You gonna make me beg?
Regan grinned back. "Maybe. They're not... thought all the way through, darlin'."
Angus draped an arm across her, letting his hand rest on her stomach. "Then maybe you can give me the gist. Tell me a story."
"A story." Her lips curved, slightly. "It's not very related, but you didn't say it had to be." She gave him a slightly distant, thoughtful look. "I don't think you'll mind, though."
He smiled and put his lips softly to hers for a brief moment. "I suppose not. As long as I eventually get to hear about this scheme, too."
"Of course." She settled against the couch.
"Once upon a time, a not so sweet little country girl was spending her Christmas in the den of a very prominent man. Now, this young lady didn't have to worry too much, because there was a big masquerade goin' on, so her honor wasn't quite in jeopardy."
Angus slid down a bit, laying his head on her shoulder, the bridge of his nose touched lightly against the curve of her neck and his eyes closed as he listened.
"Now, as she walked up to this huge, impressive party, she was very aware she was... special, of all the lesser folk who had been invited. There were none present that night who walked the day, unknowing of her kin. Only her own kind and their day walking hands. It was one of those day walking hands who was trying to issue a warning to her as they approached the mansion of that prominent man, their host."
"But she did not listen. She left his side for a private moment with that prominent man, and he gave her the sweetest, most shocking gift he could give her. He said he loved her." Her voice grew flat, unaffected. "And offered her a drink of the sweetest, warmest wine she had tasted."
"And because she thought he loved her, she accepted."
Angus' lips, previously curved in a smile, begin to flatten into a frown.
Regan's eyes were unfocused, her hands limp in her lap as she continued. "She rejoined the company of her friends after. A knowing man who walked the day, and two who walked the nights like her."
"She fanned herself, she made her apologies, she traded sweet greetings of joy. But her friends sensed something off, something wrong. They had a hand as much in her welfare and her possible rise to prominence as the coal hearted man she loved. In the end it was the one who was fatherly towards her who gave her a gift."
She took a deep breath.
"A small, rusty cage, like the ones a girl might hang in a doll house, no bigger then her fist. He tried to keep an eye out for her, and he did as he could, crippled as he was. When her father came to see her, years later, it was he who told him his daughter was trapped in a cage, equal parts wine and rust."
She whispered as her eyes closed, "That cripple as much as her father was responsible for freeing her."
Angus nodded silently, pulling her close as he whispered in her ear. "...I love you, Regan. And I don't need wine or rust to show it, or secure it."
She turned her head to kiss his cheek, eyes unopened. "I know."
"One of these days, I'll have to find a way to thank Padre."
"I'm sure you'll think of something."
"I'm sure I will."
Regan drove her car up the drive slowly; she turned the radio off when she pulled to a stop, sitting there for a moment before she sighed and turned off the engine, getting out of the car. Her hair was in it's customary pigtails, and she crunched through dewy, late night grass in her boots, tucking her keys into the front pocket of her leather jacket. She started slipping off the jacket when she opened the front door, lost in thought.
She didn't notice Angus pacing through the den, on his phone, stopping when he saw Regan.
"...Uh-huh... Good evening, counselor." He hung up, giving her a smile. "Hey, darlin."
She looked up at his words, giving him a quizzical look. "Hey sweetheart. Who was that?"
"Legal counsel for our cousin."
He watched her tired, uncomprehending look.
Angus smiled and chuckled. "...Sorry. Used to Ashland's phone paranoia. That was Kenneth."
She nodded, fingers twisting in one black pigtail. "Any good news?"
"I was just making sure a few loose threads were being taken care of." Angus walked up to her, putting an arm around her waist. "Making sure Scion gets the best case he can, with as many cards stacked in his favor as he can muster."
She nodded again, absentmindedly murmuring an affirmative noise.
"If he's forced to play their games, I intend to see him win."
"I hope he can."
He tilted her chin up and laid a soft kiss on her lips. "Evenin'."
She laid her hand on his cheek, briefly coming back to herself for a short, gentle kiss. "Evenin', darlin'."
His fingers ran lightly through the hair on the top of her head, pulled tight by her pigtails. "How's your's goin' tonight?"
"It's all right. Had a cup of coffee and a chat with a friend in town."
"How'd that go?"
"Pretty good. Had to wrap up in time for us to get back to our lives." She gave him a wry smile. "Why you askin', darlin'? Jealous?"
Angus scoffed a bit. "Jealous over just a friendly cup of coffee? Give me more credit." He grinned and winked. C'mon over." He pulled her lightly in the direction of the couch.
She gave an odd look, but followed. "What did Ashland have to say?"
Angus sat down, leaning back against the arm of the sofa. "Eh, nothing really new. Seemed slightly offended when I gave him some advice. I assured him I was simply looking out for everyone involved on our end."
She gave him a long look, eyebrows raised. "What kind of advice?"
"Status can go a long way if you play that game. I pointed out that there seems to be a discrepancy in how much is perceived in Scion up here against what I've heard about him."
She nods absentmindedly, gently biting her thumbnail.
"He seemed a little hurt when he perceived it as my questioning his abilities as Harpy..." Angus paused, reading the far-off, pensive look on her face. "...What's on your mind, darlin'?"
She murmured to herself, "That would be unwise to question." Her head pulled up. "On my mind?"
His head cocked a bit in listening.
"Nothin', Angus. Just got some stray thoughts. Flutterbies, that's all."
He stroked her cheek and his face grew inquisitive. "What about?"
"Just some things on my mind. Possibilities of things, I guess."
She shrugged, giving him a tired look. "This city's got a lot more too it then I ever imagined."
"What sort of possibilities?"
"Political, I guess." She tilted her head, pursing her lips. "It's nothin', I think."
"Political nothin', huh?" He pulled her closer to him on the couch and the tip of his nose grazed her forehead. "Tell me about political nothin'."
She laughs, softly. "I'm just scheming, darlin'."
Angus grinned. "I love schemes... You gonna make me beg?
Regan grinned back. "Maybe. They're not... thought all the way through, darlin'."
Angus draped an arm across her, letting his hand rest on her stomach. "Then maybe you can give me the gist. Tell me a story."
"A story." Her lips curved, slightly. "It's not very related, but you didn't say it had to be." She gave him a slightly distant, thoughtful look. "I don't think you'll mind, though."
He smiled and put his lips softly to hers for a brief moment. "I suppose not. As long as I eventually get to hear about this scheme, too."
"Of course." She settled against the couch.
"Once upon a time, a not so sweet little country girl was spending her Christmas in the den of a very prominent man. Now, this young lady didn't have to worry too much, because there was a big masquerade goin' on, so her honor wasn't quite in jeopardy."
Angus slid down a bit, laying his head on her shoulder, the bridge of his nose touched lightly against the curve of her neck and his eyes closed as he listened.
"Now, as she walked up to this huge, impressive party, she was very aware she was... special, of all the lesser folk who had been invited. There were none present that night who walked the day, unknowing of her kin. Only her own kind and their day walking hands. It was one of those day walking hands who was trying to issue a warning to her as they approached the mansion of that prominent man, their host."
"But she did not listen. She left his side for a private moment with that prominent man, and he gave her the sweetest, most shocking gift he could give her. He said he loved her." Her voice grew flat, unaffected. "And offered her a drink of the sweetest, warmest wine she had tasted."
"And because she thought he loved her, she accepted."
Angus' lips, previously curved in a smile, begin to flatten into a frown.
Regan's eyes were unfocused, her hands limp in her lap as she continued. "She rejoined the company of her friends after. A knowing man who walked the day, and two who walked the nights like her."
"She fanned herself, she made her apologies, she traded sweet greetings of joy. But her friends sensed something off, something wrong. They had a hand as much in her welfare and her possible rise to prominence as the coal hearted man she loved. In the end it was the one who was fatherly towards her who gave her a gift."
She took a deep breath.
"A small, rusty cage, like the ones a girl might hang in a doll house, no bigger then her fist. He tried to keep an eye out for her, and he did as he could, crippled as he was. When her father came to see her, years later, it was he who told him his daughter was trapped in a cage, equal parts wine and rust."
She whispered as her eyes closed, "That cripple as much as her father was responsible for freeing her."
Angus nodded silently, pulling her close as he whispered in her ear. "...I love you, Regan. And I don't need wine or rust to show it, or secure it."
She turned her head to kiss his cheek, eyes unopened. "I know."
"One of these days, I'll have to find a way to thank Padre."
"I'm sure you'll think of something."
"I'm sure I will."
