He was old enough to be their father, or even grandfather in some cases, they all knew the day would come eventually. But they never could have been prepared, especially not one man.
Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs
Length: 2,344 words
Pairings: None
Ao3 Link
He lay quietly, his eyes closed and breathing shallow. Silent figures filled the space around him, some seated in chairs, some on the floor, and others standing various places around the room. The room itself echoed with nothing more than an uneasy silence paired with the quiet rhythmic beeping from one of the many machines surrounding the bed, an uncomfortable tension lingering in the air until the soft click of the door took its place.
All eyes turned to watch the blond man who stumbled inside, winded and out of breath, his hair windswept in several directions. “Is he…?”
“He’s still alive. For the moment anyway.” Hawthorne was leaning against the far wall, one arm crossed over his chest, the other propped up and holding open the small book he was presently engrossed in, or at least pretending to be.
“Thank god.” Tossing his coat and briefcase to the side, Francis knelt next to the bed, taking the older man’s hand in his own. “How’s he doing?”
“Well, he’s not hurting.” Louisa bit her lip from where she sat in the chair beside the bed, “The doctor said it likely won’t be long now though.” She shied away at the look of horror that crossed his face. “I…I’m sorry! It’s just…” She hesitated and looked away. “H…he’s old. He can’t last forever.”
Francis opened his mouth to say something when a weak cough caught his attention, and he looked back to see Herman watching him through half closed eyes. Gently he squeezed the man’s hand. “How are you doing, Old Sport?”
Herman raised an eyebrow. “I thought you were supposed to be in a meeting right now.” He glanced around the room. “In fact, I’m almost sure there’s somewhere else all of you should be.”
Francis waved him off. “Yes well, things came up you know. We had to reschedule. It’ll all be there for us to handle tomorrow.” While you might not be. The unspoken words hung overhead like an impending dark cloud, and he cleared his throat uneasily. “Anyways, Zelda stopped by over lunch. She asked me to invite you over for dinner this Saturday. It’s been a while since you’ve been over and she’s dying to see you.” He froze as several of the others around him shifted uncomfortably. Cue another uneasy clearing of his throat. “S…so what do you say, Old Sport?”
Herman chuckled. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to decline your invitation.”
Francis shifted uncomfortably. “Why so?”
“I think we both know I won’t be around that long.”
Francis felt his blood run cold and he chuckled nervously. “N…now come on Old Sport, don’t say things like that. Surely you can hang around just a little-”
“Francis.” He stopped abruptly at the sound of his name, but he couldn’t bring himself to meet Herman’s eyes.
“You survived the fall inside a giant metal whale, can’t you hang on just a little longer now?”
“That event isn’t really comparable with the current situat-”
“I don’t give a damn!” Francis slammed his fist against the wall, interrupting the soft-spoken voice from elsewhere in the room. Poe jumped several feet in the air before hurriedly ducking behind John’s chair to avoid any other retaliation. But none came, as Francis just buried his face in his hands and drew in a deep breath. Meanwhile Louisa slowly rose to her feet, several of the others following her example.
“We’ll just step outside for a minute, give you two a little space.”
Through the gaps in his fingers he saw Herman nod. “That sounds like a good idea. Go get a drink and take a walk, I’ll be here until you come back.” Francis listened as they quietly filed out of the room, waiting until the door clicked shut to finally lower his hands from his face. Herman just smiled. “So.”
“So what?” He scowled. “So you’re just going to leave me. Like she did.”
“Francis.”
He could feel himself tearing up. “Does it make you happy? Knowing I just got over her and now I have to deal with this?”
“I couldn’t have planned that.”
“Bull.” He buried his face in his hands again. “I just don’t get it. How can you be so calm about all this?”
Herman sighed, still watching him. “Everything has its time.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Francis glared at him through the space between his fingers, “Because it doesn’t.”
“It’ll make you feel however it makes you feel, but that doesn’t change the fact that it still happens.” He smiled. “I’ve lived a long life, and done many things with many people. I have no fear about death.”
“Well just because you’ve accepted it doesn’t mean that I have to.” Francis crossed his arms over his chest with a scowl but Herman just shook his head.
“We’ve talked about this; there are some things in life you just have to accept.”
“Bull.”
“You always have been stubborn.” Herman sighed and looked the other way, his gaze staring out the window towards the sea on the horizon. “I can’t make you do anything, especially not after I’m gone. But I will ask that you think about what happened last time, and whether you really want to go through all that again.” Francis didn’t reply, instead staring down at his hands in an attempt to pretend they weren’t having this conversation.
Of course he didn’t want things to turn out like last time, but this wasn’t something that he could just give up on. He scowled again, at least until he heard Herman give a gentle sigh.
Glancing back up, he felt his heart stop in his chest at how still the man seemed, how pale he looked, and how his chest suddenly didn’t look like it was moving. His voice came out choked and panicked. “Herman!?”
The door behind him slammed open and the others rushed back in, though it went almost unnoticed as he watched in fear and rising panic until Herman’s eyes slowly opened again. “Not to worry, just resting my eyes.”
A collective sigh rang through the group, and Francis fell back against the bed as the others quietly took up places around the room again. Though some of the younger members especially looked a bit shaken.
“Don’t do things like that.” Mark frowned from where he sat next to John’s chair, nervously running his hand through his hair. “You freak us out when you do things like that.”
Herman stared over at him curiously. “I wasn’t aware that sleeping was suddenly something to be afraid of.”
“More like I’m afraid of you not waking up again after.” The young man bit his lip and buried his face in his arms as John stared down at him sympathetically from above.
Herman just smiled, that far too common patient smile. “I’ll never really be gone, you know; you’ll always have the memories.”
“Memories can’t stop us from making stupid mistakes in the future.” Lucy was staring off into the corner.
“Neither can people if you don’t let them. You may not believe me, but memories can help a lot more than you realize, should you give them the chance.” The girl nodded glumly but didn’t reply.
Sighing, Herman carefully folded his hands over his chest. “None of you understand it now, but someday you’ll see death as nothing more than a natural step to the next phase.” He gazed around the room at their faces. “Whatever you believe that may be.” Smiling he closed his eyes, “Just do your best with the time you have, and in the end you’ll see that’s all that matters.”
His calm rhythmic breathing and peaceful expression caused a lump to form in the back of Francis’s throat and he slowly reached forward, wrapping his hand around Herman’s own. The man’s smile seemed a little bigger as Francis felt his gentle squeeze. Then his grip went slack and the steady beeping abruptly turned into a shrill whine.
All around him he could hear voices and panic. The yells for doctors mixed with cries of horror and sobs. But all he could do was stare at the small translucent rainbow whale who rose from the smiling man laying still on the bed. Tears ran down his face, unnoticed, as he watched it circle the room once before floating out the window and out towards the sea.
It was silent all for the quiet voice of the middle-aged minister directed towards the small crowd, who stood before him. He spoke for several minutes, his voice firm until the last couple sentences, when it finally faltered as a single tear rolled down his cheek. As he finished talking and stepped back, a teary eyed woman attached herself to his arm without a word, as a pair of young men slowly lowered the casket into the ground. All the while no one paid any mind to the old man standing next to a nearby gravestone a few feet away.
As the small crowd started to disperse, his gaze lingered on the last couple to leave. They stayed for several minutes, silently watching, but finally the woman took her husband’s hand and squeezed it gently before moving away. He watched the lone man still standing at the gravestone, until a soft voice from behind caught him off guard.
“Do you think he’s going to be alright?”
Herman didn’t say anything at first, watching from the corner of his eye as a little girl came up beside him, taking a seat on the gravestone. The two watched silently as Francis finally turned away. He was slow at first, brushing the tears away from his reddened eyes as he started back towards the road. Every couple of steps he would stop and look back over his shoulder for a moment, as though trying to convince himself it was all real. “It’s hard to say.”
The girl looked up at him again, concerned, but Herman didn’t look away from the broken man before him. He’d seen this man before, many years ago, after another, more tragic, loss. And he’d seen what’d happened afterward.
Grief was a powerful emotion; without something to keep it in check, it could bring even the strongest to do something they might regret later. He’d done his best to keep Francis on the best path he could last time, but he couldn’t do everything. Even back then he’d gone along with Francis’s bizarre scheme, if for no other reason than to prevent the man from taking a more drastic option. He’d come a long way since then, of course; though the pain was still there, both he and Zelda had managed to heal, the others playing no small role in that development. But to heal from that wound had taken too many years as it was, even with his own guidance, and if history were to repeat itself now…
He paused mid-thought, distracted by the sight of Lucy pushing her way through the small crowd still waiting by the cars. Francis was still a good distance, away but Herman saw her hesitate for only a moment before breaking into a run and throwing herself at him, immediately burying her face in his shirt. The man froze for a split second before he dropped to his knees and pulled her closer, both of them crying again. He watched Zelda, leaning against Louisa, dab at her watering eyes before passing the handkerchief to the other woman, who did the same.
Mark was beginning to tear up again, trembling and attaching himself to the nearest person, who just happened to be Hawthorne. The minister stood stoically even with a teary Mark on one arm and Margaret on the other, but Herman could feel the emotions hidden away, and he didn’t miss the way the man seemed to pull both of them closer. Poe stood off beside John, his face partly buried in the fur of the raccoon he held in his arms. Herman took in the whole scene and felt his heart sink. He felt his fears slowly returning, but then it happened.
Wordless, Herman watched as John broke away from the group and approached Francis, silently offering his hand to the man who was still stroking Lucy’s hair as she sobbed into his shoulder. The two exchanged some sort of unspoken understanding before Francis slowly stood up, holding tight to Lucy in one hand and taking John’s offered hand with the other.
He watched as Zelda and Louisa approached, Zelda wrapping her free arm around Lucy’s shoulders and pulling the girl closer, as Louisa spoke softly from the other side.
He watched as the others slowly moved over until all present had formed a chain of connection, with Francis close to the center. And then he knew.
Reaching over, he stroked the golden hair of the little girl sitting beside him, her head slowly tipping upwards until he was staring down into her bright blue eyes. “What do you think?”
Those curious blue eyes turned back for a moment, before she looked up at him with a smile. “I think he’ll be alright; he’s not alone this time.”
“No.” Herman looked back with a smile. “No he’s not.”
They watched the group for another minute before Herman turned away. “We should go.” Silence was his only reply, and he looked back to see the girl still perched on the gravestone. Moving back over, he placed his hand gently on her shoulder. “He’ll be fine. And you’ll see him again before you know it.”
“You think so?”
“I know it, and until then we’ll just have to wait for him together.”
Nodding, the girl jumped off the gravestone, taking his offered hand with a smile. “Do you think someday I can meet his other friends too?”
Herman chuckled. “I think they’d love that.”
The girl leaned against him with a relieved sigh. “I’ve missed you, Mr. Herman.”
Poe was never one for love poems, Louisa always felt differently.
Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs
Length: 2,268 words
Pairing: Louisa May Alcott/Edgar Allen Poe
AO3 Link
Written for BSD Rarepair Week Day 5
“I’m just saying it would have been less predictable if they hadn’t made the red herring so obvious.” He huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, the performance hall vanishing into the distance behind them and the green of the nearby park and waters of the bay stretched out in front of them.
Alcott walked beside him, looking rather striking in her red dress. “Well I didn’t see it coming.”
He turned to look at her curiously, his annoyance suddenly forgotten. “Really?”
Alcott nodded. “Perhaps you’re just more familiar with the genre. This is the sort of thing you write yes?”
“Mhm.” Running his hand through his hair, Poe paused, his gaze drifting out towards the bay, but not focusing on anything in particular. “Yes I suppose.” Maybe she had a point. He was familiar with the genre, it’s possible he read right through the story. But if that was the case then it wasn’t that there was anything wrong with the story; it was just overshadowed by his knowledge of already knowing where it was going. Which meant that it actually fit the form quite well! He scrambled for the notebook in his bag; he needed to write this down.
Plopping down against the brick wall, behind him he furiously started scribbling. He needed to make note of everything while it was still fresh in his mind; the murder, the motive, that red herring he’d hated so much just a moment ago. He was writing so furiously that he didn’t notice Alcott leaning over until her breath was warm on his ear.
Losing his grip on his pencil and jumping with a start, he slammed his head against the bricks, and doubled over as the pain spread. “Ow! Ah that hurt.”
She recoiled quickly, “I’m sorry!”
Clutching his head he sat up, waving vigorously at her to come back as she moved further away, “No. No you’re fine. You just startled me.”
“You’re sure?” He nodded with a grimace and very slowly she inched back over. This time she carefully took a seat on the brick wall, her legs dangling down next to him. “Sorry.”
He ran his hand through the hair at the back of his head, feeling for any sort of bump or cut, but found nothing. It seemed pain was all he’d gotten from that encounter. “You’re fine.” Leaning back again, he sighed in relief as the pain seemed to dull.
“Is that a poem?” He followed her gaze and went rigid; sometime during the chaos his notebook must have flipped to a different page. Quickly he slammed it shut.
“No!” He hoped his face wasn’t turning as red as it felt like it was. Or if it was, he hoped it wasn’t as noticeable under his hair.
“Are you sure?”
“Perfectly!”
“Alright then.” She turned her gaze out towards the harbor while Poe cautiously looked up at her. The wind pulled on her hair and carried it back towards the trees behind them, showing off the full shape and contour of her face. He had to admit she looked rather striking in the moonlight.
Averting his gaze again he bit his lip. “You… uh… do you like poems?”
She smiled, “Oh yes. Especially…” She paused and cut herself off, earning a frown from Poe.
“Especially what?”
Burying her head in her hands she muttered something that he couldn’t make out.
“I didn’t quite catch that.”
“Love poems.” She peered at him through the gaps in her fingers, her cheeks brushed slightly in pink.
“Love… poe… oh.” His own face went pink and he looked away; that would explain those books he always found on the living room tables then. The ones that earned those soft smiles he caught from the corner of his eye when he passed by the sitting room and she didn’t notice. Once or twice when she wasn’t aware, he’d sneak peaks at the books that lay discarded on table while she retreated to her room to write plans. He’d never realized just how much they seemed to mean to her until now. So sweet and romantic. So, so… well, nothing like he’d ever write. “You probably wouldn’t like mine then.”
“Why’s that?”
“They’re darker.” He stared out at the water. “Madness, inner demons, that sort of thing. Certainly nothing like love poems.”
“I see.”
He could hear the sounds of her shifting, and after a moment she plopped down next to him, adjusting the fabric of her skirt around her knees. “Have you ever thought about writing one?”
“Love poems?” He snorted. “No. Those sorts of things are silly.”
“I don’t think so.”
He rolled his eyes. “True love doesn’t exist. And love in general is just a mess no matter how you look at it. It’s never as simple as those poems make them. It’s not all sunshine and rainbows and anyone who writes it as such is just silly.”
“Maybe sometimes we need silly things then.” She shifted so her hand rested over his. “Just give it a chance sometime. Maybe you’ll like it.”
Flinching, Poe pulled away, burying his hands deep in his coat pockets. “Not right now. I have a story to write. I must have it ready for when I face him again.”
He didn’t miss the way her face fell at those words. “Of course.” She was averting her gaze now. “That story would be most important right now.”
Biting the inside of his cheek he sighed; this wasn’t supposed to be how the night ended. The one night they’d had off was for them to have a good time. And now he’d messed it up. “I- I’ll consider writing one. But no promises. And it probably won’t be any good. You’ve been warned.”
She smiled and looked back over. “Until you do, can I read the ones you have?”
He sighed. “Fine, but not here.”
“Fair enough.” She stood up, staring out at the water for a moment before offering him her hand.
He glanced up at her with a concealed raised eyebrow and a frown but she persisted. “Come on, I want to show you something.”
Sighing, he stood up and allowed her to lead him down to the waterfront. The water lapped against the stones of the artificial riverbank and he watched her carefully remove her shoes before stepping into the water.
“I am not getting my feet wet.”
“Please?”
Scowling he pulled off his socks and stuffed them into his shoes. Two months. Two months and he would be facing off against his rival in Japan and getting his revenge. But for now he was splashing around in a river. Ranpo would probably laugh if he could see him now. Stepping out he cringed as the cold water soaked the bottom of his pants and they stuck to his legs. Lovely.
Nonetheless he trudged out after her, feeling the smooth stones against the bottom of his feet. Alright, maybe this wasn’t quite so bad.
Alcott stood further out, as far as she could go before the rock barrier gave way to the deeper water of the bay itself. The wind was playing with her hair again, pulling it back away from her face, but this time the moonlight glinted off her glasses and obscured her eyes from his view.
“So what did you bring me out here for?”
“This.” She gestured out at the water in front of them, and as Poe looked closer he felt the cold harsh wind blow against him and take his breath away.
The full moon glowed overhead, but the water captured its shape almost perfectly below. Except for a single brown rock that stood at the far end of the reflection.
And while the second moon seemed to shimmer with the movement of the waves the rock remained where it was, the waves crashing and breaking around it. The rest of the dark water seemed to sparkle and it took Poe a moment to realize that the night was also reflecting the stars. He crossed the distance between them and stopped next to Alcott, neither of them speaking, just staring silently out at the scene.
Another cold breeze blew through and Alcott shivered, the sudden motion catching Poe’s attention. “Are you alright?”
She smiled, rubbing the goosebumps on her arms. “Just a little cold.”
Quickly Poe pulled off his jacket and offered it to her.
“Oh no! I couldn’t-”
“You’ll catch a cold otherwise.” She hesitated another moment, then turned and allowed Poe to drape it around her shoulders. Though shivering a bit himself, she seemed much warmer after the next gust of wind, much to Poe’s satisfaction. “We should head back.”
Nodding, Alcott followed him to shore where they grabbed their shoes, but instead of heading back towards the hall Poe took a seat in the grass. It was warmer back on land and he wasn’t quite ready to let go of that view yet.
Louisa seemed to share his thoughts as she sat down beside him, the pleasant silence between them returning. Time passed and he suddenly realized she had moved closer, and half asleep, her head was now resting on his shoulder.
Part of him wanted to pull away suddenly, but at the same time she looked so peaceful. Well maybe she was fine there for a bit. Instead he turned his attention back out towards the sea, listening to the water lapping against the rocks. Thinking about it, if he was ever going to find the inspiration for a love poem this moment probably would be it. Carefully he pulled out his notebook, receiving an ironic welcome by the pages of notes about his novel. Without another word he put it away.
He sat up on the roof of the agency building, listening to the chaotic noises of the office below mixed with the softer sounds of the night. The agency had taken a tough case and they were working late to make headway, or at least trying.
Normally if Ranpo worked later, Poe would have just headed home at their normal time and let someone else help the detective with the trains, but he hadn’t been in any hurry tonight, and the others would be worn out. He and Ranpo went to the same stop anyways, and it didn’t hurt him to stick around a little longer. So instead he’d sat around the office for the past few hours working on his latest book, but things had gotten too noisy and he’d retreated to the roof in an attempt to muffle out the arguments below. It wasn’t a complete fix, but it was better than listening to Kunikida or Yosano yell at the others at full volume.
Stretching out across the shingles, he could feel Karl pressed against his side, already deep asleep. It was late, as indicated by the full moon overhead in the sky. It was a clear night, the light of the moon round and bright and casting everything in an eerie, otherworldly glow.
Sighing he sat up, careful not to disturb Karl, and quietly reached for the small notebook that had been cast to the side. Flipping through the pages, he smiled. It was a testament to years of his work; scattered notes from many of his stories that were later translated into documents and pages on his computer, and then back to pages once more in the form of published books. But somewhere in the middle, it would have been about two years ago now, the poems had started again.
He used to write them when he was younger, but gave up the hobby when he began his fixation on Ranpo. They weren’t anything special really; many of the first ones were darker, and yet all read at request of a certain person. She’d hoped for something lighter, but Poe had never been very good with soft, much less the sappiness that came with a love poem.
He’d tried. He’d tried many times since his loss here in Japan, since all his other drive and desire had seemed to fade, but just like all his other things he couldn’t seem to find his muse.
Flipping through more of the pages, he paused on one of the poems, suddenly aware of a delicately hand scrawled note at the bottom of the page. Flipping to the next one, he noticed another. Pages turned as he suddenly took in all the little notes that he’d never noticed before. Notes of praise. Notes of criticism. Sometimes both. Then on the last one, the page before all his story notes had taken over, on the only real light poem he’d ever attempted, the note was longer.
An urge for him to keep writing, praising all the color and imagery in his words, and praise for this one that at the time he’d considered his greatest mistake. She’d asked him for more, urged him to keep going and get better even if it was just one now and then. And he’d never seen it until now.
Staring over the rooftops, he could make out the water sparkling in the distance, the white reflection of the moon on the water. He smiled and turned to the first blank page, ignoring all the notes that separated the sections.
Who knew when he might see her again. Maybe never. But he’d write them. For her. For himself. He was going to fill this notebook with poems.
And maybe. Maybe one day he’d work up the courage to write a love poem. And perhaps that’d be the day he saw her again.
It’ll probably just get eaten up by the tag, but I figure it wouldn’t hurt to post this over here as well. Enjoy~
Valentine's day has come and gone. Now comes the best part.
Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs
Length: 4,888 words
Pairings: None, minor Hawthorne/Margaret if you like
AO3 Link
Francis burst into the room, throwing open the doors and watching as the nine figures abruptly jerked upright at the sound of the wood colliding loudly with the walls. Well almost everyone. Lovecraft remained face-down on the carpet and didn’t so much as twitch. But then again Francis wasn’t sure even a bomb would wake that man.
A slight cough from Hawthorne caught his attention though, and dragged him back to the present. Eight pairs of eyes watched him as he grinned, “Get your coats now everyone, we’re going shopping.”
A unanimous groan echoed from the room as half of them fell back out of sigh behind furniture and the other half looked less than enthusiastic. Only Herman made any motion to get up, but Mark quickly grabbed his arm and yanked the man back down and flopped across his lap.
Herman turned as far as he could manage and shrugged apologetically, while Francis frowned, one hand taping in irritation against his arm. Well this wasn’t working, time to try something different. Sighing he adjusted his jacket and turned around, waving dismissively as he headed out of the room. “Fine then, I’ll just go buy the chocolate myself then.”
“Chocolate?” The question had been soft, but judging from the rustling behind him he’d gotten more than one of his employees’ attention.
Smirking he slyly glanced back over his shoulder to see five of them now watching him intently. Lucy and Mark made no move to hide it, both of them having sat up and leaning over the backs of their respective furniture pieces to watch him. Poe and John were a bit more subtle, each attempting to maintain a relatively neutral expression, but their eyes gave them away. Both the couch and Hawthorne’s shoulder obscured most of Margaret’s face but he could still feel her eyes, even if they were hidden under the shade of her hat. Now this was more like it.
Turning around again he smile innocently, “I was just thinking that we could go shopping for chocolate now that it’s on sale. But if you don’t want to-”
“Don’t leave without me!” Mark shot over the back of the couch and past him through the doorway, down the hall before Francis could get in another word.
Lucy and Poe both quickly exited the room as well, on the hunt for jackets, though not as quickly as Mark had been. Herman stood up slowly, stretching his arms over his head before offering Louisa a hand. Meanwhile both John and Margaret were trying to pry their colleagues from their current tasks with minimal success.
John sat cross-legged next to Lovecraft’s shoulder, poking the man in the side repeated with little success. “Lovecraft, we need to get our coats. Don’t you want chocolate?”
The man lying face down on the carpet didn’t so much as twitch as John progressed his pokes to nudges. “I know you’re listening. Seriously, do you want Mark to dump water over you again?”
A few feet away near the couch Margaret’s luck wasn’t much better.
“Mr. Hawthorne.”
The man on the couch didn’t look up from his book, “Not interested thank you.”
Scowling she crossed her arms over her chest, “I wasn’t asking.”
Sighing he looked up at her over the top of his glasses, “I said I’ll pass.”
“Why are you being so difficult?”
“Why do you care? I didn’t think you’re interested in these sorts of things.”
She bit her lip and looked away, mumbling under her breath.
“I’m sorry I didn’t quite catch that.”
Francis watched as she spun back quickly, shooting Hawthorne a glare. “I said that exceptions are made for chocolate. Now you answer my question.”
“It’s simple really, I have no interest in leaving my current spot. I’m quite comfortable here.”
“Not even for chocolate?”
“No.”
Grumbling Margaret stood up and the corner of her eye seemed to twitch as she stormed around the couch, passed him, and out of the room. “I’ll be right back. Don’t let him go anywhere.”
“I don’t think he has any plans to leave.” Margaret was long gone as he spoke but both Louisa and Herman seemed mildly amused by his words. Meanwhile Hawthorne had returned to his book. Approaching the couch Francis leaned against the back, watching the other man. “You really should join us Old Sport.”
Hawthorne tensed, and slowly he lowered his book again. “Did you not just listen to the conversation I had with Ms. Mitchell?”
“I’ll pay you.”
He turned around slowly, still looking rather irritated, “Let me get this straight, you’ll pay me to come on this little trip?”
“In chocolate yes.”
He groaned, “I’m not getting out of this am I?”
“Considering I think Ms. Mitchell went to get your coat? Not likely no.” Herman joined them and Hawthorne finally set his book down with a scowl.
“Fine, but I won’t be enjoying this.”
Twenty minutes later with the help and hindrance of two cars, ten coats, six verbal disagreements from various parties, and one long struggle to keep Mark away from a bucket of water, they finally reached the mall, much to everyone’s excitement.
Stretching his arms over his head John sighed, “I still don’t see why I couldn’t have driven Rocinante.”
Beside him Hawthorne scowled. “Mr. Melville’s car can only hold five people, and there was no way your… camping trailer would have held the rest of us.”
The blond shrugged, “People could have ridden in the back. I’ve done it before.”
“I do believe this is a legal venture.”
“It’s only illegal if you get caught.”
Adjusting his glasses in frustration Hawthorne resisted his growing irritation, “That’s not how the law works.”
“Now now.” Francis stepped in between and draped his arms over both of them, earning disgusted looks from both men, “Let’s not start arguing. Gather round everyone, we need to establish some ground rules.” He grinned. “Miss Alcott?”
“M…me?” The young woman in question looked terrified at being called out on the spot, “Yes well. Um…” Her distress was obvious and Hawthorne glared at the man beside him. Couldn’t Francis see that he was just making her uncomfortable putting her on the spot like this?
Herman however, took charge of the situation rather quickly, after placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Our budget is a thousand dollars I believe.” Louisa nodded. “This is approximately one hundred dollars per person. I say approximately because although I’m sure Mr. Fitzgerald will be willing to cover some overflow, do try to stay on budget.”
“How much overflow is he willing to cover?” Mark stood across the circle wearing a mischievous grin that Hawthorne recognized far too well.
But Herman was having none of it. “There’s no exact number, but anything too far comes out of your paycheck, keep that in mind.” Mark continued to grin, but suddenly it looked a bit more forced, much to Hawthorne’s mild amusement.
“Any other questions?” Francis glanced around at all of them, “No? Alright, let’s get started then.”
At the tail end of the large group now headed towards the store, Hawthorne was about to give in to his fate when something caught his attention. “Mr. Poe?”
“Ahh. Yes?” The writer spun around quickly, caught off guard at the sudden attention. Karl lounged across his shoulders without a care in the world.
“Is it a good idea to go in like that?”
“Like wha-” Realization crossed Edgar’s face as Karl nudged his cheek. “Oh. Yes I suppose that’s a problem.”
“I can watch him for you if you’d like. I don’t have a strong desire to participate in all this.”
“Oh I wouldn’t want to bother you. I’ll just stay outside with him.”
“Nonsense.” Hawthorne held out his arm and Karl stared at him for a moment before chirping eagerly and crossing between them. “See? No problems.”
Poe looked relieved as he nodded and moved quickly to catch up with Louisa, the two continuing their conversation. However looking over he noticed Margaret shooting him a look. “What?”
“If you didn’t want to come so badly you should have just said so.”
He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, “I do believe I did.”
Approaching and wrapping his arm around his shoulder again Francis smiled, “Remember you two, we’re here to have a good time.”
Margaret scoffed. “I don’t know that Mr. Hawthorne is capable of having a good time.”
“I don’t see why this is necessary.” Cringing Hawthorne took a step away, putting some distance between himself and Francis. “St. Valentine’s Day has passed. Pardon me if I don’t see the appeal to all this.”
“Well enjoy standing out here brooding about it then.” Margaret turned up her nose and headed towards the store.
“I think I will.” He yelled out at her, and though she didn’t turn around he saw her visibly twitch.
Francis regarded him silently for a moment before shrugging, “Suit yourself Old Sport, I’ll pick out some chocolate for you.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
Francis waved him off, “Take a walk or something though, it’s no good if you just stand there the whole time. I think I saw a flower cart down the row a bit.”
Rolling his eyes Hawthorne scoffed as Karl nestling himself around his neck. Why would he care about a flower cart? Valentine’s day was over. Besides, even if it wasn’t, it wasn’t like he had anyone to give flowers to. A walk might not hurt though, it would give him a chance to clear his head a bit before he had to deal with all the chaos again.
Tucking his hands in his pockets he waited for Karl to settle back into position before he meandered down the sidewalk. Yes, a walk couldn’t hurt.
“Should I go with single bars or the really big one?” John looked over to see Mark holding two different chocolate bars, a focused scowl on his face.
“How many servings is the big one?”
Mark looked confused, “Uh… One?”
John rolled his eyes and pointed to the nutrition label on the box he had in his own hands. “On the package idiot.”
“Oh!” He turned it over and squinted at the label, “Three?”
Returning the box to the shelf John scanned the products in front of him, “What are the prices?
“Small one’s a dollar and the other is two-fifty.”
“Go with the bigger one, you’ll get more for your money.”
“Yes sir.” Mark pulled down three more of the giant bars, dumping all four of them in his basket, “See this is why I brought you along.”
“Just remember that you’re going to have to help me carry that one when we’re done.” He gestured to the third shopping basket sitting on the ground, already half filled with chocolate.
Mark’s eyes bugged out of his head, and both of them looked down the aisle to see Lovecraft on his knees examining several products on eye level. “How the heck does he work so fast?”
John just shrugged, “Its Lovecraft, I just go along with it.” Selecting a couple of chocolate bars he added them to his basket.
“Dude.” He turned to see Mark staring at him.
“What?”
“Did you just put white chocolate in your basket?” John glanced down, the familiar label staring up at him.
“Yeah, what about it?”
“You eat white chocolate? Unironically?”
“A lot of people do, it’s not weird.”
“It’s not even real chocolate.”
John rolled his eyes, “It’s on sale, and it has chocolate in the name. I’m buying it.”
“Suit yourself.” Mark turned back to the shelves, “It’s still not chocolate.”
“Just means it’s safe from you.”
Mark seemed ready to retort but the sound of crinkling caught both their attentions. Exchanging confused looks they both eventually glanced down the aisle and while Mark almost dropped his basket John actually did. “Lovecraft no!”
The man looked over in confusion, an open chocolate bar sticking out of his mouth. “Hmm?”
John quickly positioned himself to block the view between Lovecraft and aisle, on the off-chance someone passed by. “What are you doing!?”
Chewing the bite in his mouth Lovecraft shrugged, looking around before tucking it in his coat. “I was hungry.”
“You can’t eat something when you haven’t paid for it.” He spoke in a hushed whisper but Lovecraft only looked more confused.
“But it’s mine.”
“Not yet!”
“It is. I had it yesterday.”
Yesterday, but- John paused, staring at his colleague in confusion. “That one is left over from the ones we got the other time isn’t it.”
“Yes.”
“Oh.” Turned away as he felt his face heat up, “Sorry about that then. But you still shouldn’t eat it here, people will think you took one.”
“I didn’t.”
“But it looks like the ones they have here.” Lovecraft still didn’t look convinced and he sighed. “Let’s just finish picking out our chocolate alright? I’ll explain it to you later.” He turned back towards his basket, spinning around at the last minute. “And don’t finish that in here. Please.”
Lovecraft grumbled but moved down the aisle without another word. Meanwhile John helped Mark pick up the last of the chocolate scattered across the floor before returning his attention to the shelves. “Thanks.”
The redhead just shook his head, “I don’t know how you deal with him most of the time. He’s so weird.”
John just shrugged, grabbing another bar and adding it to his basket. “It gets easier as you get to know him.”
“I don’t believe that, but I’ll take your word for it.”
“Shut up and pick your chocolate.”
“Umm… Edgar?” Poe looked up from the two chocolate hearts he was comparing to see Louisa watching him. “Could you help me reach something?”
Placing both boxes back on the shelf Poe nodded, rising to his feet. “I can try.”
He followed her down the aisle until she stopped abruptly, Poe barely catching himself from running into her. “The one on the top shelf.”
He looked up, catching sight of the box in question. “The chocolate rabbit?”
Louisa’s face turned slightly pink as she nodded, “It’s pushed back and I… I can’t reach it.”
Poe stood on his toes, reaching up for the box, “How many do you want?”
“Just one.” She hesitated, “Or actually, grab two if you don’t mind.”
Nodding Poe retrieved the boxes and passed them to her, “Anything else?”
“Not at the moment. Thank you.”
Nodding he returned to his own search, eventually putting another box back on the shelf with a sigh. Swinging the basket back and forth he headed further down the aisle, waving her off as Louisa looked up in concern. “Just going to look at non-cocoa options.”
She followed him after a minute, watching as he kneeled down and scanned through the sweet tarts and gummy hearts. “Not a chocolate fan?”
Brushing the bangs out of his eyes he examined the nutrition label in concentration. “Oh I am. I just don’t eat it much because of Karl.” She looked confused and he sighed, “Chocolate is poisonous to raccoons.”
Her eyes widened, “Oh! Oh I’m sorry, we probably seem so inconsiderate with this. You should have said-”
“No really its fine. This sort of thing happens more than you’d expect.” He added a couple of boxes of pure sugar to his basket. “Besides, Karl’s quite partial to other sweets, even if they aren’t very good for him.”
“I think I saw strawberries up front, he likes those doesn’t he?”
“Oh he loves fruit.”
Her face lit up, “Let’s go look then.”
“Oh please, I don’t want to take you away from your shopping.”
“Oh no, I’d love to. I’m not actually as much of a sweets person myself.”
Frowning he looked back over. “You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
He threw a few more boxes in his basket for good measure before pulling himself back up, using the shelf for support. Wobbling as he returned to his face. “It would be a shame not to then.”
Awkwardly linking arms Louisa giggled sheepishly while Poe smiled slightly. Then together they headed up towards the front of the store.
“I just hope Karl isn’t causing Mr. Hawthorne any trouble.”
“Oh, I’m sure they’re fine.”
Milk chocolate or cookies and cream? She compared the chocolate on the shelf in front of her with a frown. Also she’d have to find the caramel ones. Not leaving without some of that.
“How goes the shopping?” Lucy looked up to see Francis grinning down at her.
Shrugging she turned back, “Fine I guess.”
“You don’t sound enthusiastic.”
“Chocolate is serious business Mr. Fitzgerald.”
Francis just laughed, “I’ll leave you to it then.”
He vanished out of view, and Lucy returned her attention to the shelves. But wasn’t more than a minute before he returned.
“Lucy!” She didn’t move at the sound of his voice, “Come over here for a minute.” Sighing loudly she stood up, placing her hands on her hips as she turned around.
“What?
“Just come here a minute.” Trudging down the aisle she rounded the corner, passing another couple of aisles only to find Francis in the third, holding a large fluffy white stuffed bunny with a heart.
“What’s that?”
“A rabbit. I thought it was cute.”
He held it out, Lucy carefully shouldering her basket and accepting it. Her frown melting as she pressed her face into the soft silky fluff. “It’s adorable.” She couldn’t see him, but she just knew he was grinning with all the deviousness of a Cheshire cat.
“So you like it then?”
She shifted and glared at him over top of the stuffed animal. “I’m not giving up my chocolate money to buy it if that’s what you’re implying.”
“No need, I’ll buy it for you.”
Lucy frowned, “Didn’t Mr. Melville say there was a spending cap for the trip?”
Grinning Francis leaned over, positioning one hand in front of his mouth as they both looked at the older man down the aisle. “I’m paying for all of this, not Mr. Melville. And I’ll pay for however much I want.” Nodding Lucy buried the lower half of her face back in the rabbit’s fluff. It was so soft. Smiling he turned to leave. “I’ll leave you to your chocolate hunt now, I have some things I need to hunt down myself. Like the caramel chocolate.”
He took off without waiting for a reply, but she caught up with him quickly, “I’ll come with you.”
He glanced back at her. “Pardon?”
She hugged the rabbit tighter against her chest and matched her pace with his, “I can’t find it either, we should look together.”
“No complaints with that.” He smiled as they ducked into the first aisle, “Let’s have a look around shall we?”
Nodding she brushed her nose against the rabbits ears with a slight smile, “Thank you Mr. Fitzgerald.”
She couldn’t explain it, but the smile that crossed his face seemed more emotional than normal, something almost genuinely happy. “No problem darling.”
She suppressed her frustrations under a scowl as she weaved through the crowds and made her way to the front of the store. Why were there so many people out right now? This is why she preferred to avoid stores like this, it was never worth it. Stepping off to the side near one of the closed registers she sighed and glanced down at her full basket. At least she wasn’t the one paying for all this. That was about the only consolation to this trip.
“Margaret!” Hearing her name she turned and glanced around before catching sight of John waving at her from a couple of aisles down. Adjusting her grip on her basket she moved to join him. “How’s it going?”
Shrugging she glanced around again, “Fine I suppose, though there are too many people here for my taste.”
John just grinned, “Believe me, this is nothing compared to some of my family gatherings.”
She grimaced, attempting to wipe the image of a huge crowd of people dressed in farm clothes from her mind. “Remind me never to come to your family gatherings then.” John just laughed and as she turned to the side at the sound of rustling, catching sight of Mark and Lovecraft kneeling near the checkout shelf. “What in the world?”
“They’re looking at the toys.” John followed her gaze, “Mark said he was going to try to hide some of them in his basket, and Lovecraft just got curious.” Upon closer inspection she determined it was indeed the case, as she noticed several small boxes already partially covered in Mark’s basket.
“How odd.”
“Not really.”
“There they are!” Both of them at the sound of Francis’s voice, John’s shoulders visibly dropping at the sight of the large group making their way towards them. Francis and Herman walked side by side with Poe and Louisa trailing a short distance behind. Lucy was walking beside Francis holding a-
“What is that?”
“It’s a rabbit.” Lucy hugged the large white stuffed animal cheerfully, “Mr. Fitzgerald is getting it for me. He’s very soft, feel.”
She held it out and cautiously Margaret ran her hand through the fluff, eyes widening and her frown fading. “That is rather nice.”
“I told you.”
“Alright, alright everyone bring your baskets up here. We’re going to pay for all of this at once.” Francis interrupted them loudly and slowly all of them funneled into a line. There was one minor setback that resulted in Herman almost physically dragging Mark away from the shelf, luckily Lovecraft realized it wasn’t near as interesting alone, and joined them of his own free will. When they were all through however, and as they collected their bags Margaret happened to overhear the conversation between Francis and a very flustered cashier.
“Y…you’re total will be $1,237.23.”
Francis just nodded, passing over his card, “Just put it on the card Old Sport.”
The teen moved quickly, swiping and passing back over the card before looking very relieved to serve his next customer. Meanwhile their large group started towards the doors, moving like a slow dysfunctional blob.
Stepping outside a sudden gust of wind caught her hat and pulled it right off her head. Squeaking in surprise she wasted no time before chasing after it, ignore the others who headed on back to the cars. Managing to snag it just before it hit the ground she stood up and almost bumped into someone. “Excuse-”
“Ms. Mitchell?”
She stumbled back in surprise, placing her hat back on her head as she stared at the man in front of her. “Mr. Hawthorne. You’ve come back I see.”
“Yes, I was just going to see how the shopping was going.” He glanced down at the bags in her hand. “I see it went well.”
“Well enough I suppose.” She could hear someone coming up behind them, but she was more interested in what Hawthorne was hiding behind his back. “What do you have there?”
“I… uh…” He cleared his throat before drawing out a bouquet of red rose and offering them to her. “For you.” He seemed slightly flustered as he stood there, but not uncomfortable. Though he did look a bit odd with Karl perched on his head.
Glancing to the side Margaret didn’t miss the way Francis’s eyes seemed to light up with glee as he stood beside her. However he composed it quickly, tucking the bags of candy under one arm and offering the other to Karl, who accepted the invitation after catching sight of the marshmallow in his hand. As soon as the raccoon settled the man turned away, “Well I’m headed back to the cars. Take your time you two, we’re not in any hurry.”
Rolling her eyes Margaret glanced back over her shoulder. “Don’t eat all of it before we get back.”
He laughed, “I don’t think that’s possible Ms. Mitchell, but I will do my best.”
Turning back, she took in Nathaniel’s nervous expression once more before plucking the offered roses from his hand. Staring down at them and taking in the beautiful scent she stroked the soft petals. “What’s this about? I thought these sorts of things weren’t ‘necessary’ since Valentine’s day already passed.”
Standing up straight he composed himself, folding his hands behind his back, though his cheeks were still dusted with pink. “I… I suppose I might have discovered some appeal to the trip after all.”
“Oh really?” Smirking she removed one of the roses, attempting to tuck it in next to the orchid on her hat. Though without taking it off she couldn’t see exactly what she was doing, which made it difficult.
“Let me help you.” He moved and their fingers brushed as he took the rose from her. Stepping away after a minute, the corners of his mouth drifting upwards ever so slightly. “You look lovely.”
Margaret buried her face in the remaining roses and watched him from under the brim of her hat. “I always do.”
“I suppose you do yes, perhaps I just never noticed.”
Margaret tipped her head down further, hoping the combination of shadows, rose, and Nathaniel’s own flustered feelings would keep him from noticing her blush. “Thank you, I suppose. I wasn’t expecting anything like this.”
“Well I noticed none of you ladies got flowers, and it is customary.” Glancing over she noticed the pair of yellow roses hidden behind his back and she smiled.
“That was very thoughtful of you Nathaniel.”
“Yes well…” He cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses with his free hand, struggling his maintain his stoic composure, “We should go join the others, Mr. Fitzgerald will only be able to maintain order for so long I’d imagine.”
Still smiling at her flowers she fell into step beside him as they made their way back to the car. “Indeed.”
It was nostalgic really, watching something like this. Mark was munching on one of his chocolate bars while seated on the hood of the car, engaging in a mostly one-sided conversation with Louisa between bites of chocolate while Edgar stood off to the side, listening and feeding Karl strawberries. Though not doing much talking Louisa looked happy to just listen, her bags lying at her feet and a single yellow rose held close to her heart. An odd group the three of them, but at least they were enjoying themselves.
A short distance away Lovecraft was leaning against the side of the car, half asleep with his hoard of chocolate nestled in his lap. John was nearby, currently engaged in a conversation with Lucy. Well, it was more of a debate than an actual conversation, judging from the constant arm motions and occasional raised voices. Lucy’s rabbit leaned against her legs, another yellow rose curled around one of its ears.
Separated, but not too far off, Margaret and Nathaniel engaged in a conversation of their own, unusual smiles on both their faces. Smiles that would no doubt vanish if anyone else got too close. A bit of a reclusive pair, but Herman was glad that Nathaniel had found some sort of joy on the trip if nothing else.
“They’re all having a good time.” He glanced over to see Francis standing nearby.
“It would seem so.”
“I’m surprised you’re not involved in one of the conversations Old Sport. Something wrong?”
“Just thinking I suppose.”
“About?”
“Things from the past.” Francis snorted and Herman raised an eyebrow, “Is that a problem?”
“You have to let go of the past. Let go and look to the future.”
“That’s easier for a young man like you, but I’m ingrained in old habits.”
“I don’t buy into that one bit.” Francis grinned and the two stood in silence for several minutes, just watching.
Herman sighed as he glanced down at the receipt in his hand. “We should probably figure out who went over the limit.”
Francis responded with a scoff, “Consider it a bonus. For the big mission in the coming months.”
He frowned, “You’re still determined to do that then.”
“The book won’t just find itself.”
“Yes, I suppose you’re right.”
Francis turned on him with a scowl, “You seem awfully focused on the past and the future today Old Sport.”
“It comes with deep thinking.”
“Well stop it. We’re here to have a good time. Stop trying to kill the mood.” Herman chuckled slightly and after another minute Francis shoved a box of chocolate covered cherries in his hands before turning to leave. “I’m off to socialize. I recommend you do the same at some point. We’ll have plenty of time to think about this sort of thing later.”
Herman just smiled, watching Francis leave and jump into Margaret and Nathaniel’s conversation, thoroughly annoying both of the conversation’s members. Chuckling he popped a chocolate covered cherry in his mouth.
Francis was right of course, this all wouldn’t last forever. In a couple of months they would be headed off to Japan, and who knew what would happen after. But for the moment he was content to just enjoy the moment for what it was. It might not last forever, but they were making the most of it now and that was all that mattered.
Popping another cherry in his mouth he headed off to join Mark, Louisa, and Edgar near the car.
