Thomas/Justine log
Based on this post and before the conversation with Maggie. Private, player knowledge only, etc. etc., I think you know this bit ;)
Justine: Since Thomas was spending time at the Chateau, or around other places where she could attend on Lara, Justine was glad for any opportunity to be in the same room as him.
It was hard, to be unable to touch. To know that she was causing him pain... harm, with something as simple as a caress. Not to mention things so yearned for as kisses. Or more. But so it was. Because of what she'd done, and what he'd done too. And she knew if she had a chance, she'd not hesitate laying her life for him again.
And being close, hearing his voice was still infinitely better than being away. Catching his glance as he was talking with somebody and she entered a room, and seeing those gray eyes soften. Feeling his arm around her, though clothes, and smelling him when he was that close.
Talking with him.
She did spend as much time around him as her duties with the lady of the family allowed.
Some of the time she was just listening as he was doing what he was best at - accomplishing something while doing something else. She was making a note of what he led people to say, trying to think if something she'd learned on her own might be relevant, or connected, to something they said. She'd not withhold information from him, but maybe she'd forgotten to mention something, and it could matter...
Some of the time, they were talking while in the company of others - he was, as announced, there to check on her too. And she knew he was listening at that time, for maybe somebody would say something to somebody else, and...
And some of the time, they were alone together. Some of that time, she didn't even have to pretend she was loony. Well, loonier than she was.
Her first question, even if they saw each other every day, whether they were alone when they met at the big residence or elsewhere, or not - though the way she asked varied depending on the audience - was invariable. And not just a form either, she wanted to know.
"How are you?"
Thomas: He was acting there, always acting, putting on a show. By now, it was long-ingrained habit, he likely would have felt strange without a mask or three, naked. One does not stay alive in the White Court by being open about oneself, after all. It's expected that he play at his little games, do everything in as circuitous a fashion as he can. And he excels at it...when he puts forth the effort. He figures that, by now, Lara suspects he's up to something but she likely suspects that of him most of the time and he's doing his best to not do or say anything to arouse that suspicion any further. This doesn't involve her, after all, and he's quite determined that if she gets in his way, she'll discover just how not-docile little brother really is.
The strength of his desire to do something to help Maggie and keep her safe -- this time -- rivals that of his desire for Justine.
Of course, that desire is not as carnal as one might imagine, especially him being what he is. And, at least there, he doesn't have to pretend as much. Unless they were incredibly dense, no one would believe anymore that Justine was merely another doe in Thomas' eyes. Even broken as she was. Maybe especially so. He may not have to pretend how he feels, but he does have to pretend about what he knows. And that thought brought a smile to his lips, his Justine fooling everyone there. Even Lara. Impressive for anyone who wasn't 'just one of the kine'. Not that Thomas thought of her that way. Not that he could.
But here, they have enough privacy away from prying eyes and ears to talk even if they can't touch. Sometimes he thinks he'd chance it, just to feel her skin on his again but he resists the temptation. Mostly because he knows the result would harm her more than it would him. And at her question, he smiled a bright, warm smile meant for her and her alone, "I'm doing well enough, even if things seem to be getting interesting again." He paused, and the smile faded to be replaced more with a look of concern, "how are you?" If things weren't going well, if she thought Lara might be getting suspicious, if anything, he have her out of there in a heartbeat. She only had to say the word. Even if it would make his life even more interesting than it was currently shaping up to be.
Justine: It could be an endless cycle - what hurts him, hurts her, and then her hurting hurts him in turn, repeat unto eternity. Sometimes it was just that, in her mind, before the next dose of the medications kicked in. It was probably irrational that when he was there, even though she wouldn't make any difference, she felt less alarmed. As if I could help with anything coming at him... But at least he wouldn't worry about her coming to harm while he wasn't there?
It wasn't that difficult to pretend. Between the medicines and Thomas' absence, she sometimes felt disinclined to speak unless spoken to, and that decreased the chance of saying something to give herself away. And she definitely had enough experience with being addle-brained to be able to not just seem so, but almost feel so. Except some things were highlighted in startling clarity at times... she missed the feeling of being soothed down that... that she wasn't going to feel again, probably. So better not dwell on it.
She smiled back, because the way his face lit, the way he looked at her - had not changed. And she loved it no less.
She loved him no less. And she didn't quite need to hide it now.
"I think it's ... no worse. Lara was watching me more carefully after what happened in the Deep, because I fought there, but it was never overt, of course. Never applying pressure. Directly. I had... supposedly privately, a crying fit over one of your photos with the sword - and the attention slowly died out." She shrugged lightly. "I hope it led her to the conclusion - which isn't wrong - that my 'vivacity' was inspired by seeing you in danger. Occasionally following some instructions literally, rather than as intended, helps the illusion." She wasn't allowing herself to be careless, though. Even a small mistake could end up badly - weeks later.
Being useful, and avoiding forcing him to be aware of her, unreachable, all the time, made the efforts worth it though.
"No halfway-done work. She is probably still watching, but she's not cut me out from information, so until I slip - which I won't! - things should be fine." Justine sighed, looking down for a moment, almost reaching for his hand, and then blinked, distracted by a thought. Why hadn't she thought of that before, carrying around a pair of thin, but well-covering gloves, so they could hold hands, even indirectly...
Looking up again, she frowned. "Intrigues are always woven in and out of this place, and words are rarely honest or mean what they sound like. I don't think something particular is happening soon, though. Or recently. How... interesting is it, out there?" She wasn't supposed to worry for him. They'd covered that. Several times, over the years.
Thomas: He smiled again, and there was a certain sort of pride there in it. "As long as you're careful." That didn't mean he wouldn't worry. Nor would it stop him from wishing she could -- or would -- leave for somewhere safer even if that safe place wasn't with him. Then again, she was probably most safe right there in the middle of those who'd destroy her, given half a chance. Lara would protect her so long as she was useful. And Thomas would protect her always, as best as he was able.
He noted her aborted movement to take his hand though he didn't let any reaction show. Acting again, but only because it wouldn't help either of them for him to be so completely open. Vulnerable. But he does jump on the opportunity to push the conversation along past that moment, "a lot of it has been affecting other people more than me. I-..." He paused for a moment and collected his thoughts. "Someone worked some big mojo to bring someone close to Harry and me back from the dead. They seem to want to use her for...god only knows what." He shook his head. "Mostly it feels like that someone is gearing up for a showdown. I just want to be prepared."
Justine was clever, it probably wouldn't be too difficult for her to figure out who would be close to Harry and Thomas who was also supposed to be dead. But that just meant he didn't have to say it aloud.
Justine: It took her a moment or three, but then her eyes widened. "Oh god..." She stood very still for a bit. "It's not known who did it?" The unseen danger being the worst one. But all dangers were supposed to be unseen here. (And of course he was acting. He needed to keep his instincts and reflexes about that firmly in place. But he was sharing, and that was... giving her a thrill.) "Oh Thomas..."
They hadn't discussed absent family too much, neither from her end, nor his. But she knew how seldom was he ever without that pentagram around his neck. And she knew how getting to know Harry had affected him. And the appearance of the woman from that portrait - it must have been even harder.
"How long ago... have you been able to spend time with her?"
Thomas: Thomas shook his head, "they figured out who did it. I just want to know why and what they're planning." He smiled a patently artificial smile and leaned closer to her, "so if you happen to hear any little birdies cheeping anything about the Black Court, I'd love to know what they're saying." For a moment, he looked at her, his expression turning grave, "I should hope it goes without saying I don't mean for you to actively go looking for anything like that. It probably wouldn't end well. But if someone lets something slip...." well, that was completely different.
He leaned back, once more at a safer proximity. "She's been staying with me, mostly. Harry doesn't really have much room at his place for a second person." As Thomas found out and managed, somehow, to live through without Harry killing him.
Justine: Justine shivered at the proximity, and then again at the mention of the Black Court. She didn't have good memories about whom she had once encountered of the Black Court, even though Reds evoked much stronger emotion still. She dropped her gaze, trying to recall any recent mentions that may have been somewhat different, and exhaled slowly, then shook her head slightly and her eyes focused again on his face. "I haven't heard anything standing out." The corners of her mouth twitched up. "It wouldn't really do me any good, asking actively and everything, not here, would it? I'd probably get good lessons in anything from evasion to misleading. No, nothing direct. Or even indirectly pointed that way. Promise."
She thought the last bit over. "No, not enough space." Then again, even the Chateau could seem not-enough space when tensions were rising. She missed the time when the most of the Raith family was around the world, and the residence was left almost entirely to Thomas and her, and... No, that wouldn't do. She focused. "Is yours comfortable enough? Are you... getting along?" Is she what you'd imagined her to be? Is she up to your expectations? I hope she doesn't let you down... I hope... How much questioning or solicitation were not-too-much in such a situation?
Stupid medications.
Thomas: He nodded. "We're getting along just fine. Better than fine, I guess." Even if he still sometimes didn't, quite, know what to make of her. He was slowly learning that having a flesh-and-blood mother was not quite the same thing as having a memory of one. Very slowly.
And they were fine. Even if he didn't approve of the farmer. Even if she was caught up in the Mavra thing. And whatever else. Just another day in the life, he figured. Crazier stuff had happened. And at least she was there. That Sunday a couple weeks ago with her and Harry was the first time Thomas had ever gotten close to feeling like he was part of an actual family. Well, at least since he was a child, before he found out everything he knew about being a Raith was a lie. He tended not to count that part so much.
Justine: She kept peering at his face, trying to see if there was something more odd than the entire odd thing, anything she could help with, but in the end smiled a little. "Maybe it will work out well in the end. Things have... in a way, so far. At least better than they looked at some point."
Thomas: Thomas couldn't argue with her there. And he wouldn't anyway. But he wasn't so certain about things working out even if he got her point. So he just offered up a small grin, "I guess we'll just have to wait and see. And hope. You're the one who's good at that."
Justine: "Within reason. Or try to procure help when that doesn't seem to go anywhere." Why yes, the smile was still on her face. She knew well enough that the exact number of people ... well, individuals, from those she lived among, who could be trusted to help him right now or in the foreseeable future were as many as had been in touch with him and provided help while he'd been cast away from the grace of the family. None. That didn't really change anything. He'd reached independence on his own. Then again, she thought that a lot of the residents and guests of the Chateau - not the lady, of course, but some - still underestimated him. It was safer that way.
She smiled, then sat so if he wanted - or had time - he could lay on her lap for a bit. If both were careful about touching, they could pretend for a bit that everything was as before.
Bittersweet.
But better than nothing.
Thomas: He kept up that illusion that he was to be underestimated. It was at least partly why he'd dragged the old Buffy t-shirt out to wear when he showed up here today. For the record.
He couldn't, really, stay much longer but...the invitation implicit in her sitting was a temptation he really didn't care to pass by. And so he did settle down beside her -- carefully! -- and rested his head on her lap. The way they used to even if they couldn't actually touch. Thomas smiled ruefully up at her, "people will start wondering where I am."
But he wasn't making any move to go. They had a few minutes, at least.
Justine: She smiled, her hand resting on his shoulder, over the t-shirt. Maybe she could cover some of the reading up as an I'm-rewatching-Buffy-and-obsessing phase. And reading was needed - there might be hints of some of the White Court who associated with Black Court, and that could be valuable information. "Let them wonder for a little bit. Then you can make a more spectacular entrance. You know, make sure nobody misses you walking in." What? Oblivious that he occasionally enjoyed people's attention? Justine? Impossible!
She knew this stolen time together was running out. So? It was still good. Fretting about that wouldn't improve it, after all. "You'll be careful, won't you?"
Thomas: Her comment made him laugh. "You make a very good point. Maybe I should put the French accent on too." He would do that. Mostly just to see the looks he got for it. Hah!
As to her question..."as careful as I can be. As careful as you are." It's a sort of deal. He'll be careful if she is.
Justine: Her laugh joined his, just because. "It will cement the high opinion of how serious and important player you are, in the household." Well, she did try for a bland tone, since a straight face was out of the question.
"I will be. And useful." That's why Lara kept her, after all. A pawn, a tool. Decorative and harmless. As long as she was that... it was safer here for her than out there for Thomas. What with the war and everything. On the other hand, she was aware he thought it was her in the more precarious situation...
The war. Black court. She didn't focus on that now, but she was going to be paying attention to hints and motions directed on White Court rejoining the war.
If there was something going on, she'd not leave any chances to get a whiff of it - passively! - uncovered.
A fleeting thought brought wonder if Thomas's mother would like her, and she smiled again, at herself. The chance of actually meeting her wasn't really great, was it. As things were currently, at least.
Thomas: "Oh yes," he agreed, perfectly straight-faced, "everyone will see just how much gravitas Thomas Raith has and be amazed by it."
He believed her when she said she'd be careful. It helped. Her sudden smile gets a curious look from him. "What?" It didn't seem quite like the amused smile that said she was picturing his appearance at his sister's father's afternoon court as Toe-moss so he had to assume something else had occurred to her.
Justine: She giggled. Couldn't help it really. It wouldn't be like in animated movie, eyes popping and such. But it would so cause ripples... aplenty.
Her fingers tightened on his shoulder for a moment. "Mmm. Had a moment of unaccustomed normalcy. I've heard it's supposed to be normal, to wo- wonder whether your mother would approve of me. A trifle irrelevant..." But normal.
Thomas: He grinned at her giggle. He did enjoy making her smile and it wasn't like there were opportunities aplenty for that to happen here.
His grin turned into a full-fledged smile made of warmth, "of course she would," he assured her, "how could she not?" Even if Thomas himself had his own problems with who Maggie seemed to be choosing for a partner.
Justine: Her smile? Wasn't going anywhere. Because the way his face lit right now, it just made her happy at his joy. Her voice was tinged with amusement too. "Well, one could find a reason or two, if picky. But I am not worrying, see?" She wasn't. If he said his mother would, then there was that.
Thomas: "You're right not to worry. She'd love you," he assured her while refraining from adding just like I do because that really couldn't end anywhere good, alas. He sighed and sat up. "And on that note...I should probably go put in an appearance." Even if he'd much rather just stay right where he was.
Justine: "Probably." She smiled again, a little lopsided smile that had developed only recently - and nobody but Thomas had had a chance to see it. One might almost call it a smile for him, and that wouldn't be wrong. Her hands adjusted his t-shirt - it was perfect, as only he could pull wearing a t-shirt off, but she couldn't help herself. Then she took a couple of deep breaths, composing her face into the one people outside the door always saw.
Thomas: He smiled at her once more as he stood and composed his own appearance to fit that of the part he planned on playing. The change was subtle, but it was definitely there in the lazy grin that curved his lips now and in the way he held his body. Just before he opened the door he muttered, "next time I'll have to bring fliers for the salon."
Justine: Since Thomas was spending time at the Chateau, or around other places where she could attend on Lara, Justine was glad for any opportunity to be in the same room as him.
It was hard, to be unable to touch. To know that she was causing him pain... harm, with something as simple as a caress. Not to mention things so yearned for as kisses. Or more. But so it was. Because of what she'd done, and what he'd done too. And she knew if she had a chance, she'd not hesitate laying her life for him again.
And being close, hearing his voice was still infinitely better than being away. Catching his glance as he was talking with somebody and she entered a room, and seeing those gray eyes soften. Feeling his arm around her, though clothes, and smelling him when he was that close.
Talking with him.
She did spend as much time around him as her duties with the lady of the family allowed.
Some of the time she was just listening as he was doing what he was best at - accomplishing something while doing something else. She was making a note of what he led people to say, trying to think if something she'd learned on her own might be relevant, or connected, to something they said. She'd not withhold information from him, but maybe she'd forgotten to mention something, and it could matter...
Some of the time, they were talking while in the company of others - he was, as announced, there to check on her too. And she knew he was listening at that time, for maybe somebody would say something to somebody else, and...
And some of the time, they were alone together. Some of that time, she didn't even have to pretend she was loony. Well, loonier than she was.
Her first question, even if they saw each other every day, whether they were alone when they met at the big residence or elsewhere, or not - though the way she asked varied depending on the audience - was invariable. And not just a form either, she wanted to know.
"How are you?"
Thomas: He was acting there, always acting, putting on a show. By now, it was long-ingrained habit, he likely would have felt strange without a mask or three, naked. One does not stay alive in the White Court by being open about oneself, after all. It's expected that he play at his little games, do everything in as circuitous a fashion as he can. And he excels at it...when he puts forth the effort. He figures that, by now, Lara suspects he's up to something but she likely suspects that of him most of the time and he's doing his best to not do or say anything to arouse that suspicion any further. This doesn't involve her, after all, and he's quite determined that if she gets in his way, she'll discover just how not-docile little brother really is.
The strength of his desire to do something to help Maggie and keep her safe -- this time -- rivals that of his desire for Justine.
Of course, that desire is not as carnal as one might imagine, especially him being what he is. And, at least there, he doesn't have to pretend as much. Unless they were incredibly dense, no one would believe anymore that Justine was merely another doe in Thomas' eyes. Even broken as she was. Maybe especially so. He may not have to pretend how he feels, but he does have to pretend about what he knows. And that thought brought a smile to his lips, his Justine fooling everyone there. Even Lara. Impressive for anyone who wasn't 'just one of the kine'. Not that Thomas thought of her that way. Not that he could.
But here, they have enough privacy away from prying eyes and ears to talk even if they can't touch. Sometimes he thinks he'd chance it, just to feel her skin on his again but he resists the temptation. Mostly because he knows the result would harm her more than it would him. And at her question, he smiled a bright, warm smile meant for her and her alone, "I'm doing well enough, even if things seem to be getting interesting again." He paused, and the smile faded to be replaced more with a look of concern, "how are you?" If things weren't going well, if she thought Lara might be getting suspicious, if anything, he have her out of there in a heartbeat. She only had to say the word. Even if it would make his life even more interesting than it was currently shaping up to be.
Justine: It could be an endless cycle - what hurts him, hurts her, and then her hurting hurts him in turn, repeat unto eternity. Sometimes it was just that, in her mind, before the next dose of the medications kicked in. It was probably irrational that when he was there, even though she wouldn't make any difference, she felt less alarmed. As if I could help with anything coming at him... But at least he wouldn't worry about her coming to harm while he wasn't there?
It wasn't that difficult to pretend. Between the medicines and Thomas' absence, she sometimes felt disinclined to speak unless spoken to, and that decreased the chance of saying something to give herself away. And she definitely had enough experience with being addle-brained to be able to not just seem so, but almost feel so. Except some things were highlighted in startling clarity at times... she missed the feeling of being soothed down that... that she wasn't going to feel again, probably. So better not dwell on it.
She smiled back, because the way his face lit, the way he looked at her - had not changed. And she loved it no less.
She loved him no less. And she didn't quite need to hide it now.
"I think it's ... no worse. Lara was watching me more carefully after what happened in the Deep, because I fought there, but it was never overt, of course. Never applying pressure. Directly. I had... supposedly privately, a crying fit over one of your photos with the sword - and the attention slowly died out." She shrugged lightly. "I hope it led her to the conclusion - which isn't wrong - that my 'vivacity' was inspired by seeing you in danger. Occasionally following some instructions literally, rather than as intended, helps the illusion." She wasn't allowing herself to be careless, though. Even a small mistake could end up badly - weeks later.
Being useful, and avoiding forcing him to be aware of her, unreachable, all the time, made the efforts worth it though.
"No halfway-done work. She is probably still watching, but she's not cut me out from information, so until I slip - which I won't! - things should be fine." Justine sighed, looking down for a moment, almost reaching for his hand, and then blinked, distracted by a thought. Why hadn't she thought of that before, carrying around a pair of thin, but well-covering gloves, so they could hold hands, even indirectly...
Looking up again, she frowned. "Intrigues are always woven in and out of this place, and words are rarely honest or mean what they sound like. I don't think something particular is happening soon, though. Or recently. How... interesting is it, out there?" She wasn't supposed to worry for him. They'd covered that. Several times, over the years.
Thomas: He smiled again, and there was a certain sort of pride there in it. "As long as you're careful." That didn't mean he wouldn't worry. Nor would it stop him from wishing she could -- or would -- leave for somewhere safer even if that safe place wasn't with him. Then again, she was probably most safe right there in the middle of those who'd destroy her, given half a chance. Lara would protect her so long as she was useful. And Thomas would protect her always, as best as he was able.
He noted her aborted movement to take his hand though he didn't let any reaction show. Acting again, but only because it wouldn't help either of them for him to be so completely open. Vulnerable. But he does jump on the opportunity to push the conversation along past that moment, "a lot of it has been affecting other people more than me. I-..." He paused for a moment and collected his thoughts. "Someone worked some big mojo to bring someone close to Harry and me back from the dead. They seem to want to use her for...god only knows what." He shook his head. "Mostly it feels like that someone is gearing up for a showdown. I just want to be prepared."
Justine was clever, it probably wouldn't be too difficult for her to figure out who would be close to Harry and Thomas who was also supposed to be dead. But that just meant he didn't have to say it aloud.
Justine: It took her a moment or three, but then her eyes widened. "Oh god..." She stood very still for a bit. "It's not known who did it?" The unseen danger being the worst one. But all dangers were supposed to be unseen here. (And of course he was acting. He needed to keep his instincts and reflexes about that firmly in place. But he was sharing, and that was... giving her a thrill.) "Oh Thomas..."
They hadn't discussed absent family too much, neither from her end, nor his. But she knew how seldom was he ever without that pentagram around his neck. And she knew how getting to know Harry had affected him. And the appearance of the woman from that portrait - it must have been even harder.
"How long ago... have you been able to spend time with her?"
Thomas: Thomas shook his head, "they figured out who did it. I just want to know why and what they're planning." He smiled a patently artificial smile and leaned closer to her, "so if you happen to hear any little birdies cheeping anything about the Black Court, I'd love to know what they're saying." For a moment, he looked at her, his expression turning grave, "I should hope it goes without saying I don't mean for you to actively go looking for anything like that. It probably wouldn't end well. But if someone lets something slip...." well, that was completely different.
He leaned back, once more at a safer proximity. "She's been staying with me, mostly. Harry doesn't really have much room at his place for a second person." As Thomas found out and managed, somehow, to live through without Harry killing him.
Justine: Justine shivered at the proximity, and then again at the mention of the Black Court. She didn't have good memories about whom she had once encountered of the Black Court, even though Reds evoked much stronger emotion still. She dropped her gaze, trying to recall any recent mentions that may have been somewhat different, and exhaled slowly, then shook her head slightly and her eyes focused again on his face. "I haven't heard anything standing out." The corners of her mouth twitched up. "It wouldn't really do me any good, asking actively and everything, not here, would it? I'd probably get good lessons in anything from evasion to misleading. No, nothing direct. Or even indirectly pointed that way. Promise."
She thought the last bit over. "No, not enough space." Then again, even the Chateau could seem not-enough space when tensions were rising. She missed the time when the most of the Raith family was around the world, and the residence was left almost entirely to Thomas and her, and... No, that wouldn't do. She focused. "Is yours comfortable enough? Are you... getting along?" Is she what you'd imagined her to be? Is she up to your expectations? I hope she doesn't let you down... I hope... How much questioning or solicitation were not-too-much in such a situation?
Stupid medications.
Thomas: He nodded. "We're getting along just fine. Better than fine, I guess." Even if he still sometimes didn't, quite, know what to make of her. He was slowly learning that having a flesh-and-blood mother was not quite the same thing as having a memory of one. Very slowly.
And they were fine. Even if he didn't approve of the farmer. Even if she was caught up in the Mavra thing. And whatever else. Just another day in the life, he figured. Crazier stuff had happened. And at least she was there. That Sunday a couple weeks ago with her and Harry was the first time Thomas had ever gotten close to feeling like he was part of an actual family. Well, at least since he was a child, before he found out everything he knew about being a Raith was a lie. He tended not to count that part so much.
Justine: She kept peering at his face, trying to see if there was something more odd than the entire odd thing, anything she could help with, but in the end smiled a little. "Maybe it will work out well in the end. Things have... in a way, so far. At least better than they looked at some point."
Thomas: Thomas couldn't argue with her there. And he wouldn't anyway. But he wasn't so certain about things working out even if he got her point. So he just offered up a small grin, "I guess we'll just have to wait and see. And hope. You're the one who's good at that."
Justine: "Within reason. Or try to procure help when that doesn't seem to go anywhere." Why yes, the smile was still on her face. She knew well enough that the exact number of people ... well, individuals, from those she lived among, who could be trusted to help him right now or in the foreseeable future were as many as had been in touch with him and provided help while he'd been cast away from the grace of the family. None. That didn't really change anything. He'd reached independence on his own. Then again, she thought that a lot of the residents and guests of the Chateau - not the lady, of course, but some - still underestimated him. It was safer that way.
She smiled, then sat so if he wanted - or had time - he could lay on her lap for a bit. If both were careful about touching, they could pretend for a bit that everything was as before.
Bittersweet.
But better than nothing.
Thomas: He kept up that illusion that he was to be underestimated. It was at least partly why he'd dragged the old Buffy t-shirt out to wear when he showed up here today. For the record.
He couldn't, really, stay much longer but...the invitation implicit in her sitting was a temptation he really didn't care to pass by. And so he did settle down beside her -- carefully! -- and rested his head on her lap. The way they used to even if they couldn't actually touch. Thomas smiled ruefully up at her, "people will start wondering where I am."
But he wasn't making any move to go. They had a few minutes, at least.
Justine: She smiled, her hand resting on his shoulder, over the t-shirt. Maybe she could cover some of the reading up as an I'm-rewatching-Buffy-and-obsessing phase. And reading was needed - there might be hints of some of the White Court who associated with Black Court, and that could be valuable information. "Let them wonder for a little bit. Then you can make a more spectacular entrance. You know, make sure nobody misses you walking in." What? Oblivious that he occasionally enjoyed people's attention? Justine? Impossible!
She knew this stolen time together was running out. So? It was still good. Fretting about that wouldn't improve it, after all. "You'll be careful, won't you?"
Thomas: Her comment made him laugh. "You make a very good point. Maybe I should put the French accent on too." He would do that. Mostly just to see the looks he got for it. Hah!
As to her question..."as careful as I can be. As careful as you are." It's a sort of deal. He'll be careful if she is.
Justine: Her laugh joined his, just because. "It will cement the high opinion of how serious and important player you are, in the household." Well, she did try for a bland tone, since a straight face was out of the question.
"I will be. And useful." That's why Lara kept her, after all. A pawn, a tool. Decorative and harmless. As long as she was that... it was safer here for her than out there for Thomas. What with the war and everything. On the other hand, she was aware he thought it was her in the more precarious situation...
The war. Black court. She didn't focus on that now, but she was going to be paying attention to hints and motions directed on White Court rejoining the war.
If there was something going on, she'd not leave any chances to get a whiff of it - passively! - uncovered.
A fleeting thought brought wonder if Thomas's mother would like her, and she smiled again, at herself. The chance of actually meeting her wasn't really great, was it. As things were currently, at least.
Thomas: "Oh yes," he agreed, perfectly straight-faced, "everyone will see just how much gravitas Thomas Raith has and be amazed by it."
He believed her when she said she'd be careful. It helped. Her sudden smile gets a curious look from him. "What?" It didn't seem quite like the amused smile that said she was picturing his appearance at his sister's father's afternoon court as Toe-moss so he had to assume something else had occurred to her.
Justine: She giggled. Couldn't help it really. It wouldn't be like in animated movie, eyes popping and such. But it would so cause ripples... aplenty.
Her fingers tightened on his shoulder for a moment. "Mmm. Had a moment of unaccustomed normalcy. I've heard it's supposed to be normal, to wo- wonder whether your mother would approve of me. A trifle irrelevant..." But normal.
Thomas: He grinned at her giggle. He did enjoy making her smile and it wasn't like there were opportunities aplenty for that to happen here.
His grin turned into a full-fledged smile made of warmth, "of course she would," he assured her, "how could she not?" Even if Thomas himself had his own problems with who Maggie seemed to be choosing for a partner.
Justine: Her smile? Wasn't going anywhere. Because the way his face lit right now, it just made her happy at his joy. Her voice was tinged with amusement too. "Well, one could find a reason or two, if picky. But I am not worrying, see?" She wasn't. If he said his mother would, then there was that.
Thomas: "You're right not to worry. She'd love you," he assured her while refraining from adding just like I do because that really couldn't end anywhere good, alas. He sighed and sat up. "And on that note...I should probably go put in an appearance." Even if he'd much rather just stay right where he was.
Justine: "Probably." She smiled again, a little lopsided smile that had developed only recently - and nobody but Thomas had had a chance to see it. One might almost call it a smile for him, and that wouldn't be wrong. Her hands adjusted his t-shirt - it was perfect, as only he could pull wearing a t-shirt off, but she couldn't help herself. Then she took a couple of deep breaths, composing her face into the one people outside the door always saw.
Thomas: He smiled at her once more as he stood and composed his own appearance to fit that of the part he planned on playing. The change was subtle, but it was definitely there in the lazy grin that curved his lips now and in the way he held his body. Just before he opened the door he muttered, "next time I'll have to bring fliers for the salon."