No Monopoly on Frigidity
I am going to have to take steps, aren't I?
Text Message to Bahir
Let's talk about the Rook. Breakfast tomorrow.
SS.
To: "Clay Ashton"
From: "S. Shaw"
Subject: Appointment
Call Harper's people. Set up a dinner date with Harper in a few days - someplace nice, don't schedule anything afterwards. Cancel on Emily or Zoe if it's needed.
SS
Wednesday morning threatens to turn into Wednesday afternoon before Sal Harper approaches the door to Shaw's office, dressed simply (elegantly, not sexily) in a pair of light grey slacks and jacket. Her blouse is cinnamon, and it picks out the highlights in her hair as she knocks, steadfastly ignoring the growing knot of tension in her stomach as she awaits the door's answer.
Slow shuffling and then Shaw answers the door, clearly having padded through from his room. Despite the hour, he not dressed and not at work - only in his robe, looking blinking and bleary-eyed. "Harper," he grunts. At least he's brushed his teeth. "Morning."
"Shaw," Sal answers back, tone clearly professional despite Shaw's state of undress. "Did your little poppet keep you awake all night?"
"Who," Shaw says, "Emily?" He pauses. "I sent her away," he says. "I..." A shake of his head. "I slept. It was good," comes stilted conversation, and he turns away from the door to pad back into his office. "Coffee," he says. "Coffee?"
"I already had a cup. And ate. You said you wanted to see me, Shaw." If anything, Sal's voice is growing slightly peevish by the time she stops talking and settles into a chair.
"I did?" Shaw says. "Yeah - last night," he says, shaking his head. "You looked nice." He goes to the coffee machine in the corner of the office, pouring himself a cup, and then puts a dash of whiskey in before he begins to stir.
"I did," Sal answers with a lift of her head, and the casual arrogance of someone who knows she's undeniably hot. "You were going to tell me why we traded Percy for a trinket."
"A telepath dampener is not a trinket, Sal - and I had two bishops tell me that, distasteful as it was, this was the right thing to do." Shaw shakes his head. "I'm not happy. But I also do not intend on letting her keep Percy, if I can avoid it."
Sal's eyebrows rachet upward. "And how do you propose that? His loyalty is not a thing to be bought, and after the last circle meeting ..." She just shakes her head.
"Bahir is working on it," Shaw says, raising his coffee to sip at it. "And then there's you," he murmurs. "You have some friendly feelings for him, do you not? And he for you?"
"Bahir is working on it," Sal parrots back with a shake of her head. "Do you really think his loyalty lies in the color of the man he's sleeping with? We're neighbors," she does not /quite/ answer. "We are occasionally neighborly."
"I think his loyalty lies in his friends and associates," Shaw replies. "And more than that, I think Emma's trust in him lies in separating him from those friends - if his associations are with Black, she can't afford to keep him." Another sip. "So it behooves us to strengthen those associations, whatever color his cockade."
"And so I should ... associate more with Percy, to try to win him back over to our side?" Sal asks consideringly. "We are not exactly /friends/, Shaw."
"This hostility is unbecoming," Shaw says urbanely. "I don't make decisions about my pieces' personal lives, not unless they are intertwined with mine." He smiles. "I am merely telling you I haven't given up on Percival Talhurst - and offering my hopes, perhaps, that you don't either."
Sal inclines her head. "I won't give up hope, then. If that is all that you are saying. Are we done, here?"
Shaw eyes Sal for a moment. "That's all I get?" he says.
Sal raises her eyebrows. "Were you expecting something in particular?"
"It was Emma who dressed as the Ice Queen," Shaw replies calmly, and he sips at his coffee one more time. "We're done."
"Interesting, isn't that?" Sal muses, then stands. "Good day, Shaw." With that, she's gone.
Text Message to Bahir
Let's talk about the Rook. Breakfast tomorrow.
SS.
To: "Clay Ashton"
From: "S. Shaw"
Subject: Appointment
Call Harper's people. Set up a dinner date with Harper in a few days - someplace nice, don't schedule anything afterwards. Cancel on Emily or Zoe if it's needed.
SS
Wednesday morning threatens to turn into Wednesday afternoon before Sal Harper approaches the door to Shaw's office, dressed simply (elegantly, not sexily) in a pair of light grey slacks and jacket. Her blouse is cinnamon, and it picks out the highlights in her hair as she knocks, steadfastly ignoring the growing knot of tension in her stomach as she awaits the door's answer.
Slow shuffling and then Shaw answers the door, clearly having padded through from his room. Despite the hour, he not dressed and not at work - only in his robe, looking blinking and bleary-eyed. "Harper," he grunts. At least he's brushed his teeth. "Morning."
"Shaw," Sal answers back, tone clearly professional despite Shaw's state of undress. "Did your little poppet keep you awake all night?"
"Who," Shaw says, "Emily?" He pauses. "I sent her away," he says. "I..." A shake of his head. "I slept. It was good," comes stilted conversation, and he turns away from the door to pad back into his office. "Coffee," he says. "Coffee?"
"I already had a cup. And ate. You said you wanted to see me, Shaw." If anything, Sal's voice is growing slightly peevish by the time she stops talking and settles into a chair.
"I did?" Shaw says. "Yeah - last night," he says, shaking his head. "You looked nice." He goes to the coffee machine in the corner of the office, pouring himself a cup, and then puts a dash of whiskey in before he begins to stir.
"I did," Sal answers with a lift of her head, and the casual arrogance of someone who knows she's undeniably hot. "You were going to tell me why we traded Percy for a trinket."
"A telepath dampener is not a trinket, Sal - and I had two bishops tell me that, distasteful as it was, this was the right thing to do." Shaw shakes his head. "I'm not happy. But I also do not intend on letting her keep Percy, if I can avoid it."
Sal's eyebrows rachet upward. "And how do you propose that? His loyalty is not a thing to be bought, and after the last circle meeting ..." She just shakes her head.
"Bahir is working on it," Shaw says, raising his coffee to sip at it. "And then there's you," he murmurs. "You have some friendly feelings for him, do you not? And he for you?"
"Bahir is working on it," Sal parrots back with a shake of her head. "Do you really think his loyalty lies in the color of the man he's sleeping with? We're neighbors," she does not /quite/ answer. "We are occasionally neighborly."
"I think his loyalty lies in his friends and associates," Shaw replies. "And more than that, I think Emma's trust in him lies in separating him from those friends - if his associations are with Black, she can't afford to keep him." Another sip. "So it behooves us to strengthen those associations, whatever color his cockade."
"And so I should ... associate more with Percy, to try to win him back over to our side?" Sal asks consideringly. "We are not exactly /friends/, Shaw."
"This hostility is unbecoming," Shaw says urbanely. "I don't make decisions about my pieces' personal lives, not unless they are intertwined with mine." He smiles. "I am merely telling you I haven't given up on Percival Talhurst - and offering my hopes, perhaps, that you don't either."
Sal inclines her head. "I won't give up hope, then. If that is all that you are saying. Are we done, here?"
Shaw eyes Sal for a moment. "That's all I get?" he says.
Sal raises her eyebrows. "Were you expecting something in particular?"
"It was Emma who dressed as the Ice Queen," Shaw replies calmly, and he sips at his coffee one more time. "We're done."
"Interesting, isn't that?" Sal muses, then stands. "Good day, Shaw." With that, she's gone.