sixwordstories | (no subject)

*She's squinting at her computer screen, trying to fix a particularly annoying Excel cell.*

Surely I don't have to tell you it's not polite to stare.

[Please pay no attention to the redhead trying to put books away at the bookstore. Really. She's unimportant, nothing special and certainly not side-eyeing you with...

well...

mild amusement.]

Edited 2012-12-22 15:35 (UTC)

*He doesn't mean to stare, it just sort of happened and he quickly catches himself again, looking down into the mug of tea in his hands instead.*

My apologizes. Are you having trouble with that?

*Oh he's certainly paying attention to her. Even when caught looking, it doesn't make him shy away. He smirks a bit, he can see her amusement.

He finally walks over to her* Perhaps you could help me. I'm looking for a few books, but notably something for my little girl. She loves ponies and I'm at a loss, I'm afraid. Is there anything you could recommend?

*She smiles a bit, just because it's fun to wind him up, even when she's in the middle of a frustrating task.*

It's fine. Just the usual technology rhubarb. *She swivels in her seat to face him then, lest she herself comes off as impolite. And that is definitely not her intention.*

I'm actually surprised you're here. I'd have thought you and your family would have already taken off for the holidays.

I've never quite associated rhubarb with technology, but if you say so.

*He aims to distract and entertain, at least at times. He smiles as she turns to face him.*

My family is already out of the city, I have a few more things to take care of at the office before I go join them. But you're here late yourself.

That I am. *She should feel a bit downtrodden by this fact, as she's all caught up on her tasks, and whatever she's working on now can certainly wait until after New Year's. But...she doesn't.*

But see, plebeians such as myself are here to work late so that distinguished officers such as yourself don't have to. Therefore, you being here is completely against protocol. *She's playing with him. Against protocol...*

What do you want pal? [Aaron's being rude as per usual]

*And they would never go against protocol, would they.*

Which makes me in your debt, I suppose. I've never been good with your end of it. *He smirks a bit over the edge of his mug and then sips the tea* On that note, I've never been good at following protocol either.

Holiday plans for yourself, Miss Vincent?

*It's less of an attractive note and more of a business note. He wants to see what the kid is up to. He's just good at making it look like something else.*

Why do you assume I want something?

[The only thing he has been doing for the past minutes is loading the car with spare parts for the garage. He always gets angered when people stare at him. He just want to get on with his life without the constant gossiping in the village or people in town. Being gay may have increased his awareness as people might attack him.]

'Cos you have been starting at me for the past 10 minutes pal. So either you want me something or you better get your jog on.

We're gathering at my sister's house in Kent on Christmas day, then after that, it's just me and Mr. Finch.

*Her cat. Because she's nothing if she's not fulfilling the 'single woman over 30' stereotype. Meanwhile, all this talk of the holiday reminds her...*

Before I forget... *She glides her chair over to the left side of her desk and opens the bottom drawer. After some sifting, she produces a white envelope with his name and a candy cane taped to the front.*

Don't feel too special; I gave one to everybody, but...this is for you.

*Maybe not everybody, exactly...*

Sounds nice. *He means it though. Of course Christmas is good with his girls, but family is always complicated.*

*But he's more than surprised at the envelope.* Thank you. I'm afraid I don't have anything in return. *Oh, but there's the charming smile making a return.* But I could make it up to you. You're here just before Christmas and you deserve it, just name it.

*He slides his hands into his pockets casually, not phased much by the young man's attitude, or at least not physically.*

And who's to say I might not be seeing what you're doing here?

[Max can feel it prickling the back of his neck. He's hyper-aware of people at all times. It takes about five minutes of staring before he's looking around for the source.]

You should take a god damn picture and stare at that.

*And it's that charming smile that's going to be the death of her. She can never really look at him when he's smiling at her like that, which makes her feel rather stupid and childish. Even worse is him smiling at her while he's telling her to make a wish because she deserves a prize. She's flattered, and it probably shows.*

You don't have to get me anything, really. Really. Although...*She hesitantly looks up at him through half a squint, only because she wonders just how inappropriate it is to actually cash in a Lord's offer. Whatever the answer may be, ultimately, it doesn't stop her.*

Maybe you could suggest a good place for me to pick up a quick bite once I leave here? I already know my usual spots won't be open.

*He doesn't trust you, Max. He knows something's up when he sees it. But he smiles, laughing softly.*

My apologies. I didn't mean to offend you.

*She certainly has her own assets as he was demonstrating earlier. He doesn't come down to this department to see anyone but her; no one looks the way she does. She has that new and exciting feeling, and if he's quite honest with himself, he knows how to make the best of it.*

Hm. *He makes a show of thinking about it, tapping the side of his finger against his chin.* I don't imagine many places will be open at all. But why don't I do you one better and take you out instead?

*Yes. He does know how to work it.*

[Don't trust Max. It's a bad idea. He's a suspicious character even when he's not doing anything suspicious.]

Not offended. It's just fucking annoying.

*Jesus, this is dangerous territory. She really has no business going out anywhere with a married man who has the ability to, should he ever be so inclined, have her transferred out, if not full on sacked. But then, who says it's "going out"? She's human. He's human. They both have to eat, and people eat together all the time. No big deal.*

I don't see how I could possibly say no to that. *She smiles, and surprising, she feels a bit less foolish than she did before.* What did you have in mind? What kind of food, I mean. I've never been too picky in that regard.

*His intentions are definitely not work related, though it is the truth, he does have some power. But he likes her too much for that. He smiles wider when she accepts.*

Considering how late it is.. I'd say it would have to be Chinese, possibly the only place open anyway. Unless that's too informal for you?

*She laughs at that. Too informal? For her? He obviously doesn't know her very well at all. Then again, he wouldn't know her as anything but that woman from Data Analysis, so...he can get a pass on that one.*

Chinese sounds great. Maybe we can go in about half an hour or so? Give you some time to finish up those important tasks you've stayed late for. *Teasing again.*

*Stephen knows the type so very well.*

Of course. But I suppose I wouldn't have been looking if it wasn't worth my while, right?

*He really doesn't know her at all and he'd like to remedy that. But perhaps not in a friendly sort of way. After all, she wouldn't be the first woman he's picked up from his job.*

Oh yes, I'd forgotten about those. *Though his grin makes it obvious he's not real concerned with that anyway* I'll meet you back here in a half an hour then.

Why the 'eck would you be interested in what I do? Try focusing on your own life pal instead of mine.

[Max rubs the back of his neck. He's been having a bad week and he's taking it out on someone he doesn't know. Breathe in, breathe out and start again.]

What can I do for you, mate?

(OOC: I'm up for pressing on if you are. :D)

See you then. *And then she's swiveling back to her previous position, facing her computer before he can catch on to just how much she's smiling. Still, she isn't a "girl" about this sort of thing, and as such, she focuses on her work until she comes to a natural stopping point. The fact that she's finished her work, switched off equipment and gotten into her winter garb a full ten minutes before their half hour is up is indicative of nothing except how famished she is.*

*That's what she tells herself, anyway.*

You could take your own advice, you don't seem very pleased with your own life, do you?

It might not be about what you can do for me. Might be the other way around. What can I do for you, Max?

*So, Stephen might not be in the market to make that week any better. But then again, maybe he is.*

[There's a long pause which for Aaron means that he agrees.]

It's none of your business aye.

[Continues with what he was doing and lifts up a heavy engine part. He's shiver a little out of exhaustion. Not because he's weak but because he does not eat properly.]

*Stephen is exactly on time; it's a half hour later and he approaches her desk, wearing coat and scarf, and briefcase in hand. He looks like a regular businessman, not anything like an MI6 agent.

He smiles as he sees her again.* You look like you're ready to go.

*She returns his smile and tries not to look too eager. As polished as he is, he looks warm and inviting, and she can't quite help linking her arm with his once she rises to her feet. It's a gesture she doesn't really think about too much as she starts toward the door.*

If I'm ready to go, I'm pretty certain it's because I'm hungry enough to eat both your meal and mine. That, and we've only got fifteen minutes to make it to the stop before we miss the last bus.

Turning a page of her book, brown eyes glance up at the empty tennis courts, seeming not to notice that a bit of paper with something written on it, one she was using as a bookmark, has fluttered to the ground under the bench. The novel, which she has been reading for about a half hour since arriving at Belgrave Square Garden, is tucked into her coat. Each day the scene plays out, every day the paper has been blank, but not today.

Gracefully rising, the Italian Consulate's secretary, one with connections to a wing of the Cosa Nostra as well as the House of Lords, takes the path out of the park back to the embassy.

*Stephen just watches, hands clasped behind his back, until he turns to the side, not particularly watching but still standing there.*

Your name is Aaron, isn't it? Perhaps I do want something. We should talk.

*Stephen is obviously fine with it; he doesn't mention it or try to pull away from her. It comes naturally, he leaves it alone and fishes his keys out of his jacket pocket with his other hand.*

If I'm taking you to dinner, darling, we are certainly not taking the bus. I do have a car, you know.

*In a city where more than half of the residents use public transportation, of course he has a car. None of this is surprising though, and really, with all the assignments tossed his way, he's probably the last person who has time to be bothered with bus schedules and tube maps. And then there's the fact that it's arctic cold outside at the moment, so far be it from her to complain about sitting pretty in his passenger seat. But nevertheless...*

There's nothing actually wrong with the bus, Sir. One of these days I'll have to bring you on my route. Might find that it'll do you a bit of good. *She's only teasing again. A bit.*

[Aaron almost drop a box of fan belts at that. He quicly places them to the side and slowly turns around. He then crosses his arms over his chest and leans towards the car with a scowl on his face. Aaron got a very chav inspired look. He got a white zip hoodie which at the moment is open and shows a blue t-shirt underneath. His pants are trackies which are stuck into his socks. The shoes are white trainees.]

How do you know my name? And why do you think I want to talk with complete strangers? I am not daft and I know how to use my fists.

[Did I mention he's fairly muscular too?]

Oh, me on a bus route? You think that'll work out?

*He leads her down to the parking garage instead. Stephen is much more high level, he gets priority and he obviously has the money to accompany it with the black Jaguar XKR that chirps unlocked when they approach.*

I have ridden buses. I just prefer not to when I can drive.

*But also the gentleman, he slips his arm away from hers and opens the door on the passenger's side for her first. Old fashioned, yes. But it's polite, and maybe a little more than that. Once she's in, he walks around to his side and climbs in, starting the car and pulling out of the garage with a nod to the guard at the front.*

*It takes every ounce of self-control Chris has not to say something insane about his vehicle. It's not that she hasn't seen nice cars before, but good Lord, could she even afford to look at a car like this? To say nothing of ride along in the passenger's seat? Certainly she had no business...

And yet, even as she feels completely out of her league, she still settles in quite comfortably.*

I must say, you definitely know how to treat a lady. Not that it comes as much of a surprise. *There's a hidden meaning behind that last statement, but she offers no hints.*

She is a gorgeous woman, and certainly the days of watching for the paper that actually has something written on it didn't feel wasted for that reason. Stephen has enjoyed watching her and for reasons of appreciation, not lust. That doesn't make him feel guilty. Not that it would have anyway.

Stephen walks past her toward the place where she had been sitting, meeting her eyes briefly and offering a polite smile and a simple, "Good morning." Enough time has passed that by the time he reaches the paper on the ground, she's not close enough that he can remind her that she dropped something. He glances at it and tucks it into his jacket pocket.

"Good afternoon," was quietly murmured, the brisk and precise accent softened and warmed by the Mediterranean sun. Confidently, heeled boots continued to the concrete sidewalk and did not turn to look back. A favorite of the Consul-General, she was at work early, only taking a short break in the middle of the day, straight to the park for a half hour read, unless it was raining and on those days she strolled through the pines, and then, returning back down the street she was back to the beck and call of the Consul-General.

Her file said that Freya was the second child of a hereditary lord - the eldest groomed to take his father role - she traveled to Italy and fell in with the wrong people. Soon afterwards she was meeting the right kind of people for the wrong reasons, one of which was the very man she currently worked for, a gentleman who negotiated trade deals with the British government. A very perturbed and unhappy man who would shortly be out of a job and would no longer be receiving his customary bribes and kickbacks, as the EU and Singapore’s Free Trade negotiations just concluded on December 17th. All that they were waiting on was to sign the agreement after all translations and verifications were completed. The Cosa Nostra had made several attempts to end the negotiations, and it was unlikely they would cease their efforts, ones that had already become violent.

And the note? In blue ink was a neatly written address at Primrose Hill, one that backed onto the hill itself. At the bottom, added in black ink rather hastily was the time, 7:30 p.m.

(ooc: okay, that was a fun little research project and probably way more detailed than you might have been looking for...but I love the Sandbaggers (MI6) and then more recently MI5 and I couldn't help myself:)

Everyone talks with complete strangers one way or another. *Stephen is also not intimidated by him. He's notable for his cool demeanor under the face of, well, anything really.*

I just want to talk. Is there something that I should be here to talk to you about?

I know that but how do you know my name?

[He frowns a little at what the other man said next. It was less than a years since he last was in court but he got acquitted. Since then he hadn't done anything to cause trouble with the law. However losing Jackson had been tearing him apart lately and his head was all over the place. But he hadn't sought any help for it, trying to deal in his own way.]

Are you a cop? Look, I know my family isn't on the best terms with the law but I hadn't done anything.

*Stephen has had a lot of experience in the area, both on the job and off. He has a whispered reputation too and he makes no effort at all to contradict it, mostly because it's true.*

I suppose I know a thing or two. But everyone deserves to be treated every once in awhile, don't they? Perhaps even more than that.

(ooc: I don't mind at all if you don't mind me being slower than molasses. And definitely not as eloquent :D)

Freya had on their list for some time, though Stephen was new to the situation. A few weeks new at any rate. They had a sense something was going down, so they brought in the big guns, namely him. But he'd gotten what he had come for and he would be tonight. Her information had yet to lead them astray.

Checking out aerial photos on the address on Elsworthy Road gives a view of some expensive properties, ones unaffordable on Freya's salary, however pulling up the estate papers shows that the house is owned by her brother and the utilities are also in his name. That would indicated that this property is his city house. However the man, his wife and child, spent most of their time at the family's estate in the countryside training dogs to herd, and raising sturdy stocks of horses and sheep.

Upon further investigation, several evenings a week Freya has been spotted taking a private car across the river, it was assumed she out doing the bidding of her demanding boss. Instead it appears she was going here. Meeting with her father or someone else, perhaps? Interesting question, especially when some mornings she returned to work by the same vehicle early in the morning.

As you can see, I was not quick either. But I do love a good story and try to do what I can to make than happen:)

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Sorry for jumping in like it's the workplace, but I figure it's a decent enough setting. Maybe? :)

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works for me :) her workplace or do they work together?

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Together? It could make sense, with him being MI6. Though she's low-mid level in comparison, lol.

sounds good :D

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Stephen is a horrible person sometimes. most of the time >_>

Makes him interesting! Not everyone is shiny and perfect all the time. Where's the fun in that? X)

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pfft nope. Boring. It's the shady ones who are much more fun

I mean staring not starting FML

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Yep! I'm not sure if you wanted to continue with dinner or have it close here, but....

and I totally didn't notice. >_> carry on

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I would love to :D

Brilliant! :D Sorry for the delay. Was doing the holiday thing.

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That's okay, me too. Also illness. :|

Oh no! Well that's a crappy way to finish off the year. I hope you feel better soon. *hugs*

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thank you darling <3

<3

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Oh no! Well that's a crappy way to finish off the year. I hope you feel better soon. hugs