Simple Gifts

[ooeeooahah]

A: MacCready & Sons Law Office, Morning:

[ Switching from word processing to the typewriters at the office wasn’t that big of a stretch. The hardest part had been looking busy all day, until she started typing her research notes there. Considering she types the interviews of the long-time aware residents in the sme format as the depositions for

Comments

[velesdonnersen]

[He's walking down the hall with the Senior Partner -- a drone of very little brain and no great charm...if any charm at all. As the two amble down the way, Tarvek running on automatic, Mr. Brown stops, and sputters, saying, "Now she's at it again. What is it with that woman, never in the front offices, where she belongs? What does she think she's doing in the Law Library?" Tarvek, still on automatic, goes into yet another role, as is his habit. It's trained into him, and in Mayfield, with drones, his only real goal is to keep 'em placated till the next day, when much of their prior concern fades away, blurred around the edges

[ooeeooahah]

[ Her eye twitches at the head-pat, but she keeps under control until the drone leaves. When Tarvek scolds her for not being prepared, she boils over , hissing her anger at him. ]

Don't you think I know that? I'm covered by pulling reports for Mr. Howe, and YOU assume I haven't done the basic cover story?

[ She's managing to convey the anger of a screaming fit in a harsh whisper. ]

It's one thing to play the role, but when you start treating me like an idiot, maybe I think you're getting too deep in the garbage you're pitching!

[ Ilsa slaps the files against his chest. ]

Since I'm cast as the office idiot, you can explain I've gone home with a headache.

[ She heads out to get her purse from her desk. ]

[velesdonnersen]

[Follows, hurt, pissed, and at the same time guilty. But still pissed...and trapped, because she's just said things he can't respond to properly in-office -- and pulling reports doesn't cover her settling into the research tables the way she had. And.... And...]

[Icy, and frustrated as hell.]

Shall I call your husband to come give you a lift, Mrs. Anderson? Or I could take you home. Heaven forbid Brown, Brown, Brown and Jones fail to ensure its female employees are properly cared for. We take a paternal interest in our staff!

[And even as he says it he knows he's putting his foot in it, but between the rules of Mayfield/the 50s, the trap of office norms, and his own blazing anger and frustration, his attempt at offering her a lift has turned into more fight to come....

And, damn it, he's not the one who acted out of the norms, even if she does think her cover was sufficient. Women don't DO real research here; not during business hours, anyway....]

[ooeeooahah]

[ She had gotten careless, leaving the door open. That still doesn't help the anger, both hers and his. Her shields are not holding up at this point, and she recognizes the signs that she's going to be broadcasting indiscriminately soon. ]

I should be fine, sir. [ She can't help the edge to her voice, but she had to get out now, before she lost control. ] Both of us walked to work today. The air outside should help.

[ Trying very hard to keep out the emotions he's practically shoving at her, Ilsa leaves the office. ]

C

[catslooklikeme]

[Cue the dragon kitty in the window.]

Hey, classy lady.

[ooeeooahah]

Hey, Nall.

[ Not her usual bouncy self, she's not particularly enthusiastic about the dish she's assembling. ]

[catslooklikeme]

[Nall doesn't seem like his usual cheerful self today either. He's almost mellow in demeanor.]

How are you doing today? Whatcha cookin'?

[ooeeooahah]

[ She finishes the layering and puts the casserole in the oven. ]

Spinach strata. Something simple to go with the chicken.

[ She reaches out to skritch him behind the ears, with a ghost of a smile. ] So, what's new, not-a-cat?

C.

[hotfrombehind]

[Leans against the kitchen doorway.]

Usually I feel at least a little bit better when I come in here, but it just seems off today.

[He pushes off the door frame and moves to stand by the table.] You alright?

[ooeeooahah]

Just... not doing well today.

[ Slowly slicing vegetables, she seems to need more concentration than usual to keep her cuts even. ]

I was snooping around at the office today, in the archives, and got caught. Nothing serious, I think, but still means I was careless.

[hotfrombehind]

[He's quiet for a moment, watching her cut her vegetables.]

Yeah, I getcha. Still, everyone makes mistakes. God knows even I've been back stabbed by the fucking frog at least once or twice. I'm sure it couldn't've been a huge deal or whatever.

[ooeeooahah]

[ She seems to be about to say something else, and then shakes her head. ]

Not stabbed in the back so far, but I do feel a bit kicked around from it, mentally, that is.

C +

[velesdonnersen]

[He looked for her when he left work. He managed to miss her at the library. He failed to find her other places, and he wasn't sure he would be welcome in her home. So he went home, ate with his drone-kids, said a little to the flickering shadow of his not-wife passing. He paced, and sulked in his home office, went back to the living room and tried to laugh at The Honeymooners...but all it did was remind him of Kramden Street.]

[So now he's here. He stands in the back yard for a few minutes, in the dark, watching her move slowly in the dimly lit kitchen. At last he risks tapping, softly, at the back door.]

Ilsa?

It's me.

[ooeeooahah]

[ That knot of worry in her chest wasn't going away, and when she realized it was echoed in the garden, Ilsa hoped he would stay long enough for her to invite him in. She was just about finished with the nightly cleanup (and steeling herself to face him) when he knocked. ]

I know, come on in.

[ There's light from the fixture over the sink, enough to see that there is some paperwork on the kitchen table, where she sits. ]

[velesdonnersen]

[He slips in more quietly and gracefully than might seem probable, and leans back against the door, closing it and then just holding up the wall. His arms cross over his chest, and he seems intent on the linoleum.]

Smells good. We had franks and beans over at my place.

[ooeeooahah]

[ The spikes of worry, frustration and the needling of fear underneath it all push her to go straight to the point. ]

I lost my temper this morning. I'm sorry I argued with you.

B

[handytalent]

[ Having seen her around at the Law Office earlier, Tom approaches at the woman, indeed curious. Should you look over your shoulder you may notice he has been silently standing there for a while, and he gives a polite smile. ]

Afternoon, madam.

Re: B

[ooeeooahah]

Sir.

[ Cautiously keeping an eye on him without seeming to be hyper-vigilant. ]

Looking for something in particular?

B

[handytalent]

... Actually, I was hoping for something other than books of Law.

[ He says this glancing at the notes discretely. His polite smile doesn't wane. ]

[ooeeooahah]

[ The notes are rather dry lists of names gleaned from the telephone books in the reference section. ]

I'm afraid the library has a limited selection, but I hope you are able to find something that appeals to your taste.