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

[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?"

[u_can_have_it_4_a_song]

He gives her an approving smile. "Very good, Verity. It seems you know the lay of the land--lead on!"

[brave_heart_verity]

"A little." But she'll soak up the approval nonetheless. Off they go! It's a straight shot to Trafalgar Square, and then it's hard to miss the giant building on the other side of it. City traffic she can handle, although everything being on the wrong side of the road still confuses her sometimes.

[u_can_have_it_4_a_song]

Hard to miss, indeed. Inside said building, Schön introduces himself at the desk, and someone is called to come escort them--they'll be going behind the scenes today, and as they pass artworks stored away and yet to be displayed, Verity might catch the occasional yearning twitch in her companion's fingers.

[brave_heart_verity]

She's never been in the back areas of a museum before. The number of pieces in storage is baffling to her, and she's a little twitchy too. Not for the same reason, she only wants to look at them, to try and figure out why they aren't considered worth displaying. But don't think she hasn't noticed that reaction of his, and if it starts getting obvious she'll take his hand to help him hide it.

No reason to make anyone think he might be up to something.

"You know I don't know much about art," she murmurs to him as they walk. "Nobody's going to believe I'm some kind of expert."

[u_can_have_it_4_a_song]

"You find the fake," Schön assures her, "and I'll find the flaw."

And then they're turning out of the hallway and into a room where two virtually identical paintings stand on easels. An aging, friendly-looking woman stands between them, and smiles when she sees Schön; her graying hair is tied back in a bun, and her cream-colored blouse is loose and light. To one side stands a plump, red-faced man whose neck is a little too large for the collar of his very expensive suit, and whose hair can't decide whether it's blond or ginger, but is determined to stand up in one impertinent, curly tuft at the top of his forehead, a determined island against the encroaching bald spot.

"Schön," the woman greets, opening her arms. "Margaret," he replies, returning her embrace lightly and kissing her cheek. "Allow me to introduce Ms. Verity Willis, my expert on forgeries." That last prompts a bitter harrumph from Mr. Suit.

[brave_heart_verity]

The only delay in her knowing which one is which is that she's watching Schön greeting the woman, and keeping an eye on Mr. Suit. That hair. Poor man. She hangs back until introduced, when she quickly offers a hand for shaking to ward off anything requiring closer contact. "Nice to meet you. You might want to sit down."

[u_can_have_it_4_a_song]

Margaret gives her a puzzled look, but at a nod from Schön goes to lean against a table. Mr. Suit folds his arms across his chest, lifting his chin and glaring down his nose at Verity, daring her to... something.

Schön stays by Verity's side, casting her an inquiring glance. He'd very much like to hear her diagnosis.

[brave_heart_verity]

Once Margaret's settled, she turns to Schön with her own questioning look. "You told me one of them would be real," she hisses, like she's trying to keep it between them but knowing the others will hear it.

[u_can_have_it_4_a_song]

"No," he points out gently, quietly, "I said at least one was a--"

"PREPOSTEROUS!" Mr. Suit explodes, throwing up his meaty hands. "She hardly glanced at them! You can't mean to take the word of this, this child, after the most cursory examination? Margaret, you have been ill-used, and you, you, Mister Freund, your charlatanism is exposed at last."

Schön simply gives Verity a look that says without words, "you see why I wanted to embarrass this guy?"

[brave_heart_verity]

Well, fair enough, that is how he put it. She should have listened better.

Mr. Suit isn't making a great impression on her. He's getting one of those looks from her. With the eyebrows. "I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that there's been a lot of disagreement about which one of these is the 'real' one? Experts lining up on both sides?"

[u_can_have_it_4_a_song]

"There has," Mr. Suit confirms grumpily. He has apparently taken every disagreement personally. "I have been studying the Flemish masters my entire life--I could spot a fake when you were just a bottle of wine on in your father's pantry. What makes you so knowledgeable?"

At the slight against Verity, Schön's lips tighten, eyes narrowing. He's quite prepared to verbally flay the man, if Verity doesn't do it first.

[brave_heart_verity]

Oh, he did not just bring her father into this. Her eyes narrow and her tone is as ice-cold as the magic she's been studying when she replies, "The fact that I know what I'm talking about."

She continues to pin him with her look for a long moment before she turns and gives Margaret a perfectly pleasant smile. "They're very pretty. What are you going to do with them?"

[u_can_have_it_4_a_song]

Margaret is normally used to these little arguments between big-ego art experts, but this one got real personal, real fast, and her British manners are struggling to keep up. "Ah, the original we were going to feature as one of the centerpieces of our Flemish masters exhibit. You're quite certain they're really both...?" She seems more concerned that the museum may have been taken for a ride than doubting Verity's abilities.

[brave_heart_verity]

Poor Margaret. There's a reason Ver suggested she sit down. Her own work done, she moves to lean against the table beside Margaret while the gents duke it out. "I'm sorry, I know this must be a disappointment. I'm sure you'll find something else to put in the exhibit, apparently you've got quite a few choices back here."

[u_can_have_it_4_a_song]

Margaret sighs, but rallies admirably. "We can manage," she agrees.

"Marge, you can't mean you're going to listen to this--this child?!" the big man demands. "Schön just trots her in from nowhere, and that's it?"

[brave_heart_verity]

"I'm sure. I'd love to come see the exhibit when it opens. When's the big day?"

Yeah, the suit isn't even worth her attention anymore. Schön can handle it, he said so. She just needed to tell him if anything was real. "Do you end up with a lot of forgeries in storage? I've always wondered where they go when they've been found out."

[u_can_have_it_4_a_song]

Schön is, indeed, running interference on Mr. Suit, pricking his pride to get him to point out the details that make him say one painting is true, and the other false. With that laid out, he can find the faults in the other. It might be something subtle, like the non-contemporary wood grain in the wood on which the canvas was stretched, or something. It'll take a while.

Margaret, meanwhile, gives a nervous laugh. "Oh, I hope we don't have many forgeries in storage! They generally go to the police, so they can catch the people who made them, and sold them. We hope."