Ephemeral Truths [Verity]

[u_can_have_it_4_a_song]

When Verity arrives for her daily shift, Schön's demeanor in answering the door suggests this might not be just another day at the office. "Ah, good morning. I wonder if you might feel like a small change in the routine?"

Comments

[brave_heart_verity]

And Verity hasn't even had time to take off her gloves when he asks, which only gives her more reason to pause mid-snow removing-stomp to give him a curious look. "Depends on the change. What's up?"

[u_can_have_it_4_a_song]

"A side trip," he explains, "to a museum. They have two pieces, at least one of which is a forgery, and I wondered whether your talents might be able to lend some insight."

[brave_heart_verity]

"Oh. Sure. That shouldn't take long. Where's the museum?" Maybe she should ask 'when' as well. Her business semi-casual look is on-point for her time and place, but it'd be scandalous in so many others.

[u_can_have_it_4_a_song]

As much as Schön enjoys creating the occasional scandal, "London, late 2000's."

[brave_heart_verity]

"Perfect." She straightens her coat and gives him a prompting look. She is ready to go--unless he'd like to warn her before she wears heavy winter gear into a summer heatwave or something.

[u_can_have_it_4_a_song]

Her attire is fine; his great concern was that she might not want to go out and deal with people, or go to a twenty-first century Earth (he took care to wait for this until the pieces in question weren't in New York).

Taking up his hat and cane, he extends an arm to her in escort for the brisk walk to the appropriate portal. "You've been well this holiday, I trust?"

[brave_heart_verity]

She's glad it's not in New York. London she can handle. Paris, LA, Bangkok. Anywhere but someplace too much like home.

He doesn't want a coat? It's freezing out. Maybe it's more fairy magic stuff. She'll take his arm and can keep up with a brisk pace. Unless it's particularly icy. "It's had its ups and downs," as he must have imagined would be the case. "It wasn't easy being alone on Christmas. I guess my mom's decision is more final than I wanted to admit."

[u_can_have_it_4_a_song]

There is a silver-and-sapphire ring glinting on his finger that wasn't there before. It seems especially bright amid the cold and snow. "Alone on Christmas? Tsk, where were those brothers of yours?" He'll stay off the topic of Verity's mother; as hard as her situation is, he isn't looking to make it worse.

[brave_heart_verity]

Ah. Magic. He's such a sneak. "Jim doesn't like the holidays, and Clint was with the Avengers. It's okay." It is what it is. She can't have them for everything all the time. "Is that a new ring, or a very seasonal one?"

[u_can_have_it_4_a_song]

"Ah," he concedes. Her question prompts him to grin, though--her observant nature always catches those little details. "Seasonal, and I'm pleased you noticed. It protects me from the cold, and keeps my footing steady on snow and ice." He doesn't like to brag, but he totally likes to brag.

[brave_heart_verity]

He doesn't even bother to humblebrag. She's almost impressed. "Fancy. You do have all the best toys, don't you?" And she's not going to feel bad about leaning on him whenever her own footing is less than ideal.

"So, tell me about this museum and the forgery. What's in it for you?"

[u_can_have_it_4_a_song]

"Well, fortune favors the prepared." Does he seem the sort to put a humble in his brag? Or his anywhere? Besides, he didn't tell her quite all about it. Meanwhile, he's perfectly content to be her support when the walk grows treacherous.

"Ah, the museum is doing a section on the Flemish masters, and this work is a recently-recovered, somewhat obscure piece that would be emblematic of the movement if it hadn't been missing for a good, long while. As for what's in it for me," he pauses to chuckle, "I get to make myself invaluable to a museum that will, in turn, be grateful. I get to perhaps discredit an authenticator whom I dislike and distrust. I get to learn a little bit more about your abilities. And I may also take up the trail of a forger skilled enough to pass off their work as that of a Flemish master."

[brave_heart_verity]

"That must be it." No humbles for him. Not even pies. It's sad he still feels the need to withhold things from her.

"Sounds like a good day for you. So you're taking me out for lunch after, right?" So demanding. Who does she think she is anyway? "Will we have time to see the exhibits, or is it all business?"

[u_can_have_it_4_a_song]

Humble pie is not good eats. Withholding things is, alas, second nature. Magicians and their tricks, and all. At least he told her everything he's getting out of her art authentication.

"There will certainly be time to see exhibits," he assures her, "and lunch wherever you like. Oh, I'll warn you, the portal there is a little bit onerous. You would not believe what I had to go through, working out the precise key sequence."

The comment in which I am evil.

[brave_heart_verity]

Secrets are his lifeblood as much as beauty. But she reserves the right to be sad that there will always be that wall between them.

"You know I'll believe you if it's the truth," she points out with a smirk. The idea of getting to enjoy the museum and a nice meal out makes the day sound better and better. Now if she can just keep from falling on her ass on the way there...

BOGDAMNIT YOU EVEN WARNED ME!

[u_can_have_it_4_a_song]

"Mm, well, consider what you're about to see, and you'll have some idea. This is our stop." The Nexus site he indicates is a tavern, with the hanging-together fragments of a smashed chair mounted over the door.

Inside, the lighting is dim, the floor is only nominally clean, and although it's the Nexus equivalent of midmorning, a good third of the seats are occupied by sullen, long-term barflies. All this Schön ignores to cross straight to the bar, where he orders three pints of lager. As he lines them up, the bartender asks, "takin' the train out, today, Mr. Freund?"

You're adorable when you get like that. :P

[brave_heart_verity]

"Oh... okay... This doesn't really look like your scene..." and she is seriously overdressed.

There aren't any simian librarians, are there? She's heard about him and the places he frequents. For now, she'll keep one hand in her pocket and another on her bag while her she watches whatever arcane ritual he's about to perform. And she'll wonder if she has to follow suit.

[u_can_have_it_4_a_song]

He doesn't seem to be directing her to. He also answers the bartender with a bare nod and a few coins on the bartop, which are swiftly whisked away. Bracing himself, he drinks the three pints as swiftly as can be reasonably managed. "Right. Now, before these hit my bloodstream, the portal. And understand, that was part of it."

Offering his arm, he escorts Verity toward the back, to a door marked with a crudely simple stick figure. "Don't look around, and breathe as little as possible," he advises, before opening the door and ushering her through. Closing it behind him, he pounds on it three times, shouts, "hurry up in there!", then opens it again, leading Verity out into...

...a station for the London Underground. The door by which they exited apparently belongs to a supply closet, when it's at home. Once the mercifully-undescribed tavern men's room is behind them, he breathes a sigh of relief. "There."

[brave_heart_verity]

Oh god oh god oh god why does he hate her. The relatively fresh air of the Underground is a mercy.

"...you know, sometimes it's okay to tell me I don't really want an answer to my questions."

[u_can_have_it_4_a_song]

"Noted." He pats her hand on his arm, adding, "need a moment?"

[brave_heart_verity]

"No, I'm okay. Nothing like sunshine to help." Please let them be going outside in the sun for at least a few minutes now, she needs to feel disinfected.

[u_can_have_it_4_a_song]

"Of course." There's a flight of stairs nearby, leading up, through the sidewalk, and to London! It looks almost just like it does on the BBC!

[brave_heart_verity]

Yeah, she's been to London before. Not that she knows what it looks like on the Beeb, but she knows better than most how that's not real. None of the sonic screwdrivers within a five-mile radius of them actually work; half of them probably don't even light up anymore.

Still, it's nice to look around. It's a charming city. "So... which museum?" Like she knows the way. He doesn't know, maybe she does.

[u_can_have_it_4_a_song]

He smirks, answering, "if I say 'the National Gallery,' will you be surprised?"

[brave_heart_verity]

"Mighta been the V&A," she points out innocently. "So that's..." There's a pause while she looks around, trying to figure out where they are. If those are the bridges she thinks... she turns and points. "That way?"