Penpals
Chapter 3: Breakfast And A Page
Fandom: Shoot From The Hip Sketches; Never Give Annabelle A Gun & We Love Poetry
Rating: General
Word count: 3715
Tags: @threepigeonsinasuitcase
AO3
Chapter List
Notes: And we're back with chapter three! Wanted to make sure I had this out before I went way for a couple days. Not sure what the updates for this will look like (I originally was going to stop after two chapters-) but chapter four will happen eventually, maybe soon? We'll see. Hope you like this one! I had fun getting to focus a bit more on Percy, as well as Butch.
Percy hadn't slept very well that night. Seemed to only stay asleep for less than an hour before waking again. That went on all night, until Percy finally gave up and got out of bed. Franklin had already gotten up, and had left an outfit out waiting form him as always. A habit Percy couldn't remember when his partner start, but one he found very touching.
He found Franklin in the kitchen with Elissa, a maid, the two preparing breakfast.
"Good morning, sir," Elissa greeted whilst chopping an onion.
"Good morning, Elissa, Franklin."
"Good morning."
Percy walked up behind Franklin, draping an arm around him and kissing his neck softly.
"What did I say about making out in my kitchen?" Elissa reminded, making both men laugh.
Elissa had been the first staff Percy ever hired, when he hardly knew what having a maid even meant. She was in her late fifty, and had raised what she referred to as "five rowdy children already." Therefore, she had a low tolerance for any 'nonsenses' in her kitchen. That was even more so true when Franklin and Percy's relationship was made public to the other staff.
"Perhaps you could see if the guests are ready for breakfast, sir," Elissa suggested, sliding the diced onions into a bowl.
"That I can do." Percy left the kitchen and made his way back upstairs and down the hall to the spare bedroom Annabelle and Butch were staying in. He didn't even get the chance to raise his hand to knock when Annabelle pulled the door open.
"Percy, good morning!" She greeted with a small laugh.
"Good morning Annabelle. Are you both ready for breakfast?" Percy asked.
"I would love some breakfast. Butch's still asleep, think she's still a bit off from yesterday so I don't want to wake her," Annabelle explained as she stepped out of the room and quietly closed the door. "Sure she'll be up shortly though."
Percy nodded, leading Annabelle towards the kitchen. He couldn't blame Butch for being tired after their long day yesterday. He himself would have loved a few more hours of sleep if his brain would have allowed for it, and he hadn't just spent several days on a boat.
Franklin greeted Annabelle the moment Percy and her walked in, drying his hands with a towel while Elissa was plating food.
"Three of you go sit," she insisted with a wave of her hand. "Will your partner be joining us, Ms Parker?"
"No, not yet no," Annabelle replied. "She's still asleep."
"Alright then, three servings it is. Off with you all."
Percy chuckled as Franklin lead the way to the same outside table they'd sat at yesterday evening.
"Is Butch alright, Annabelle?" Franklin asked as the three of the sat down.
"Oh yes, she's just a bit off from yesterday still I believe," Annabelle explained. "The boat travel and all of yesterday's excitement took it out of her a bit."
"Well that's understandable."
Elissa soon brought out three plates of sausage, eggs and toast, another maid bringing a pitcher of orange juice and glasses.
Percy thanked them both before they returned inside, leaving the three of them to enjoy their meal with the warm morning breeze.
Percy slowly nibbled on bits of his food, his mind trailing off as his eyes looked out over the garden. Annabelle and Franklin's conversation turned into a buzz of muffled background noise as Percy thought about yesterday again.
Even though everything had worked out much better than the countless possibilities Percy had imagined, that feeling of dread hadn't fully left his stomach. Like a lingering guilt he could shake.
He knew things were fine, that he hadn't horribly offended Annabelle and she wasn't mad at him for anything — no one was. And Perry really did know that. But logic didn't change how he felt inside. Didn't matter that he knew it wasn't all wasn't true, something in his mind was just still holding onto all that panic and worry and just wouldn't let go.
Not a new situation, something he dealt with plenty of times before. Didn't make it any less mentally exhausting.
"Percy?"
Franklin's voice brought Percy out of his own head, face going slightly red as he realized both were now staring at him.
"Ah — yes?"
"Are you quite alright?" Franklin inquired, resting his hand on Percy's leg.
"Yes, yes, I'm fine. Just a bit of thinking," Percy brushed off with what he hoped was a convincing smile.
Annabelle seemed to be studying him from across the table, and he could feel Franklin's doing the same beside him. Neither seemed to believed him, that was quite clear. Percy tried again to move past it.
"Now than, is there anything you particularly want to do while you're here in London, Annabelle?"
"Nothing I've given much thought to," Annabelle admitted. "Only things I really know about London is what you've wrote about, and what little about mama use to talk about. Suppose spending a little bit of time in the city would be nice."
"I have to head out for some shopping soon," Franklin noted, checking Percy's pocket-watch. "In an hour or so. It might not be the most exciting, but I'm sure we could take a more scenic route if you would like to come along."
"That does sound quite nice," Annabelle remarked. "Just not sure how much of new places and crowds Butch will be up for today…"
"Can't say I am in the mood for the city either," Percy said. "But I'm sure Butch and I can keep each other company while you're gone."
Annabelle considered the offer for a few seconds while sipping her drink.
"Suppose that would be fine. I'll go see if Butch is awake and ask her about it."
Franklin waited till Annabelle's footsteps faded into the house before questioning Percy again.
"Are you sure you're alright?"
"Fine, Franklin," Percy insisted again, somehow even less convincingly. "Tired, I think."
"I could wait to do the shopping for at least another day if you'd rather—"
"It's quite alright," he interjected. "No need to mess up the schedule that works, and Annabelle seems eager to see more of London. I am just fine Franklin,"
Franklin once again studied Percy, as if the truth was written somewhere on his face.
"Percy, please just tell me what's bothering you."
Maybe it was.
Percy gave a small sigh as he picked up his glass, using the drink to give him a few extra seconds to think of a reply.
"It's really nothing to serious Franklin. Worrying myself over things that won't even happen. I'm sure the feeling will go away before noon."
Wishful thinking.
That answer seemed to satisfy Franklin's concern. He slid Percy's hair back gently before leaning in for a kiss.
"Sure you're alright with me and Annabelle going?"
"Perfectly fine," Percy insisted again. "You needn't worry about me."
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
Annabelle had made her way upstairs to find her partner sitting on the edge of the large bed they had shared. Annabelle greeted her with a kiss on the cheek as she sat down beside her.
"Feeling any better, love?"
"A little," Butch replied as she slid her arm around Annabelle. While Butch did look better than yesterday, Annabelle could tell she was still tired at the least.
"Franklin invited me to join him on a trip into the city. I didn't think that's something you'd be up for, but Percy isn't planning on going either. If you're alright with staying here with him…"
"I don't mind at all," Butch insisted quickly. "You don't gotta worry about me, do what it is you want Annabelle. It's your trip we're on."
"Still gonna make sure you're enjoying our time here too Butch," Annabelle remarked.
"And I certainly am."
Annabelle gave her a warm smile and another kiss before checking to she if she'd brought "a fancier outfit" she could wear while out.
Butch watched her go through their cases from the bed, smile of her own still lingering. Part of her was relieved Annabelle hadn't asked her to join her and Franklin, only because she did still feel a bit unwell from yesterday. That strange mix of motion sicknesses and all the overwhelming that a new place brought hadn't quite left her even after a night of sleep.
Thankfully, Annabelle seemed aware of this and already assumed Butch wouldn't be up to going. It was sweet the way Annabelle knew her so well. Despite that, Butch did still feel a little bad for not offering to join her still. But, she knew it was for the best. If she did offer, Annabelle would only tell her that she didn't want Butch to force herself to do something she's not going to like just for her. And while Butch didn't always listen to that, she would this time.
Percy's manor was huge enough as it is, she couldn't imagine trying to take in a whole new city. Least not today. There was plenty enough for her to do here, surely. Maybe another conversation with Percy. She thought they got along quite well yesterday. More than she first assumed at least. Once they got talking, Percy wasn't nearly as intimidating as she'd thought.
"I think Percy and Franklin are still on the back porch if you want to go join them," Annabelle said. "Still some food on my plate as well if you don't want to ask for some yourself."
She really did know her so well.
Butch got herself dressed, giving Annabelle one last kiss while the other girl was deciding between two different dresses before leaving. Now she just had to hope she remembered the way to the garden.
Finding the stairs that brought her back to the main floor was easy enough, however as soon as she was down there Butch already felt turned around. She went the direction she thought would lead her to the entry way, only to end up outside an unfamiliar sitting room of some sorts.
Backtracking wasn't any help either, she couldn't even find the stairs again. Now she felt like she was just hopelessly wandering halls that all looked the same. She was thankful when a maid poked her head out of one of the doorways, even if it did scare her at first.
"Hello! You must Ms. Parker's companion, I assume?"
"Uh — yeah. I am," Butch confirmed.
"I'm Mary, one of Lord Cunningsworth's maids," she greeted with a large smile, offering a hand out to Butch.
"Nice to meet you," Butch said politely as she took her hand. "My name's Butch."
"Oooo, that's quite fun," Mary commented. "Have you come down for breakfast? There is plenty of food in the kitchen. And I believe Lord Cunningsworth, Franklin and Ms. Parker were out on the back deck."
"I was tryin' to find my way there actually," Butch admitted with a small laugh. "But I got a bit turned around, I think."
"Don't worry to much, this place is quite big," Mary reassured politely. "I can show you the way, just follow me."
Butch was happy to follow her lead through the kitchen and out to the garden. Percy and Franklin were still sat at the table, both greeted Butch as she joined them.
"Thank you, Mary," she said again as she took a seat.
"It's no problem, I'll be right back with some food for you." Mary was already back inside before Butch could decline the offer.
"I'm assuming Annabelle told you of the plans for the day?" Percy said.
"Yeah, she did." Butch nodded. "Sounds good to me. Can't say I'm up for the city, but if you don't mind me staying here while she's out."
"Not at all," Percy insisted. "You are both my guests, after all."
Mary returned as promised with a full breakfast plate for Butch, who thanked her yet again before she could disappear back into the manor.
Franklin did most of talking between the three of them, Butch was just fine listening with occasional input when she could. Percy didn't seem to mind either, it looked to Butch that he was in a world of his own as he stared off into the garden and slowly picked at his own food. He remained like that until Annabelle returned, now in a different dress.
Butch wasn't sure if it was any 'nicer' than the one she was wearing before, suppose it would depend on what you thought made a dress 'nicer' than another. She looked just as beautiful as before to Butch. And Annabelle could make anything look good in her eyes.
Franklin and Annabelle seemed to slip right back into a conversation they must have been having before Annabelle left. Butch wasn't sure how long that had lasted before the two of them were getting ready to head into the city.
She gave Annabelle a kiss as they said there goodbyes, asking her partner to be safe out there.
"Don't worry Butch, promise I'll stick by Franklin," Annabelle insisted. "He knows his way around."
Franklin gave Butch a reassuring smile, a silent promise he would make sure Annabelle didn't get lost in the unfamiliar city. Something she greatly appreciated.
With final goodbyes to their partners sorted, Annabelle and Franklin followed Louis out the large front doors to the waiting carriage, leaving Percy and Butch standing in the entry.
"Tea?" Percy offered to break the awkward silence setting in.
"Yeah, sure," Butch agreed quickly.
"Wonderful, I'll go find Mary and meet you in my study."
Butch didn't get a chance to admit she wasn't sure she knew the way before Percy was gone. People seemed really good at doing that to her today. That was fine though, she had a rough idea where she needed to go.
Hopefully.
Butch started down the hallway she hoped was right, feeling a little more confident at the sight of what was possibly a plant she recognized. Regardless if she was going the right way or not, the walls around her felt a little less overwhelming than yesterday. That was some amount of progress.
She took her time, walking slowly as if that would make it less likely for her to get lost again, and more time to take in the busy world around her. Even after spending a day here, getting to know Percy, Franklin and the other staff — who were nothing but kind to her — she still felt so out of place amongst the pristine, well decorated halls that still managed to make her feel small in comparison.
The large open fields on the farm she called home were by all means bigger than the manor, in terms of actual space. But they were open. You could see one end from to the other, if your eyesight was good enough, and didn't have to worry about getting lost unless you were shorter than the grass. Even in the dark, the single porch light from the small house would guide your way back no problem.
Butch shook her head at the thoughts of home. Wasn't gonna do her much help now.
Well, maybe it had, as she managed to find the study on her first try.
She hadn't had the chance to really take in the room yesterday. Most of the walls were lined with towering bookshelves, some filled to the brim with books that seem to cross decades. Others were much emptier, one shelf only held a few precariously stack books that appeared in rough condition, really standing out from the ordered, well cared for books on the surrounding shelves.
The wall opposite the door housed a large window facing out towards the garden with a small round table and chairs in front of it. She imagined the sun came through nicely in the afternoon. Even now, the glow from outside did really warm up the space.
There were other cabinets and such, holding what might have been awards or keepsakes, but none caught Butch's eye quite like the desk. The desk was to the left of the door when you entered, clearly organized at one point but now taken over by dozen loose papers and books left open.
Her eyes traced over the desk as she walked around it, taking note of the rather beautiful hand-writing across each scattered page, very similar to the glimpse she'd get of the letters Annabelle loved to receive. Despite her better judgment and regard for one's personal belongings, Butch found herself picking up the page most center on the desk. Worse yet, she started reading;
Time moves like sand, flowing through glass
Time can be wasted, with how fast it can pass
Time is a valuable thing, worth so much more
Time doesn't wait, a ticking reminder of before
Before I got to know peace, when my heart wasn't quite whole
When time was just something that told me when to come and go
Everything seemed so simple then, ignorance felt bliss
But live a life without knowing, and a life you'll miss
Time moves on, whether ones ready or not
As does life, with or without careful thought
There's no stop, though you may try
Better just embrace it, and enjoy the ride
Percy came through the door, Butch dropped the poem in a panic as she attempted to put distance between herself and the desk. But what she had done was obvious in the guilt on her face and the page that took several agonizingly long seconds to fall back to the desk.
Butch began to sputter out an apology as Percy approached the desk, but he cut her off as he picked up the poem himself.
"Ah, a strange one this is. Still not quite sure how I feel about it. My message has a point, but I feel like it got away from me. What did you think?"
"Oh… well…" Butch hesitated, taken aback by the lack of anger from Percy. "I don't really know much 'bout poetry I'm afraid."
"That doesn't matter much here," Percy insisted quickly. "Sure, any other poet could tell me exactly what they thing should be changed with this, but that's not what I'm asking for. I'm asking what you, as a reader, thought about it."
He held the page out to her, Butch was once again hesitant as she took it, scanning over the words again. While she was revealed Percy wasn't mad with her for going through his stuff, she didn't have a clue what he was expecting from her now.
Your thoughts Butch. Just your thoughts…
"Suppose I agree with the message I think is here…" she said. "About time passing, how you can't stop it and just have to live with it."
"The original point I think I was trying to make," Percy confirmed. "I just don't think that it follows through to the end."
"I can see why," Butch agreed. "You kind of change topics in the middle, I think."
"Quite right. Definitely needs more work." He took the page back from Butch and set it on the desk. "Not my usually type of poetry, was trying something new. I sure hope that wasn't your first taste of my work."
"No — I've read some from the book you sent Annabelle," Butch reassured as she followed Percy to the table and chairs by the window. "Well, she'd read them to me."
"Any good poem will sound just as good when read aloud," Percy remarked. "If only that was something I was any good at."
Mary came through the still open door, holding a tray with a tea pot and two mugs. She set the tray on the table and began pouring into each cup. Percy and Butch both thanked her before she left, closing the door behind her.
"What do you mean by that? If you don't mind me asking," Butch inquired further.
"I am not one for public speaking," Percy explained. "Or crowds at all, really. Tried to do a public reading once, a few months back. Safe to say I made quite the fool of myself on that stage as I stumbled over all my words."
"Guess writing well doesn't always lead to speaking well," Butch remarked, hoping Percy would find the humor in her words. Thankfully, he responded with a small but genuine laugh.
"You're quite right with that. And why I'll stick to the written word, least for now."
Butch admired Percy's writing, even the piece he didn't seem all to proud of had definitely made her feel something. And while she didn't know much about poetry, she was pretty sure that was at least part of the point of it.
"You've written poems about love, haven't you?"
"… Yes I suppose I have. Especially after finding the right muse," Percy agreed. "Half the work in poetry, your inspiration."
"I tried to write Annabelle a poem once," Butch recalled, mostly just to keep the conversation going. "But I never finished it… or even really started. It was a lot harder than I though it'd be, I suppose."
"The first word is always the hardest," Percy said with a sip of his tea. "I think if you tried again, you might be surprised with what you can come up with."
"Well I don't know about that…"
Percy stood up abruptly, setting his tea cup down as he walked over to his desk. He returned to Butch, handing her a blank paper and rather fancy-looking fountain pen.
"No harm in trying, now is there?"
Butch accepted the pen and paper as Percy move the tea tray to make room on the table for her. She had no idea what to write, how to possibly express her feelings for Annabelle in words on a page the flowed together even half a nicely as Percy's poems did. He must have sensed her uncertainty, offering further advice.
"You don't have to start with a poem. Just write what you want the poem to tell a reader, or Annabelle specifically. A baseline to start from."
What she wanted to tell Annabelle. That might be something she could do. Suppose Percy was right, there was really no harm in just trying. Worse case, her page joined the scattering of them on his desk, likely to be discarded some other day.
