Bared Bones: Taxidermists Since 1890.
[Nettlekettle (morwrach on A03) here, sharing a scene from my Work-In-Progress fic: an AU where Credence is a taxidermist who can communicate with the spirits of dead animals, and Graves is a lonely widower who works for the Government. ❤ More TBC!]. The exterior of the shop is old-fashioned and austere: tall windows of smoky glass with ‘Bared Bones: Taxidermists since 1890’ picked out in gold lettering. Tall potted palms are just visible through the window. Graves sucks in a steadying breath and pushes open the door, tucking the lumpy brown paper parcel more firmly under his arm. The bell peals out from the back of the door, chiming out tunefully. To his mild dismay, it’s the birdlike Chastity Barebone who comes to the desk, neat and severe in a lace-collared dress. The sharpness leaves her gaze as she recognises him, and her expression softens a little as she says quietly ”Mr Graves! We weren’t expecting you. Credence is in the back” She draws back the velvet curtain behind the desk, and Graves gratefully ducks through the doorway behind it. He half expects her to follow, but he’s left alone to walk quietly down the dusty corridor lined with shelves of boxes and uninhabited glass domes. The studio smells of lavender and preservatives and the vaguest hint of something unpleasantly organic – like the background odour of a butcher’s shop. Credence is leaning over a workbench, the skin of a large tawny owl spread out in front of him. He’s stroking one of the soft feathers with a gentle fingertip as Graves approaches, and the sight gives him a little pang in his chest. Credence’s black hair is tied up in his usual ponytail, a single escaped lock tracing the line of his perfect jaw. Graves feels like he could stand here forever, in this fragile moment, but then Credence looks up owlishly, and his brain kicks into gear. “Mr Graves!” he says brightly, wiping his fingers on his apron. Graves steps closer, and the words escape his mouth before he has a chance to think things through – “I’ve brought you a new friend.” He feels panicked and mortified once the words have left his mouth. Why did he have to go and say it like that?! Either way, there’s no way back now, not with Credence looking so bright-eyed and interested. He proffers the brown paper parcel and their fingers brush just so as Credence takes it from him. Credence unwraps the lumpy parcel so slowly that Graves can feel his heart beating in this throat. The young man gives a delighted little gasp as he peels the second layer of paper away to reveal the dead fox with his muddy paws. ”Percy,” he says a little brokenly, before cradling the fox in his arms like a baby, and stroking its ears, pressed close to his chest. ”Hello there,” he says softly, pressing a tiny kiss to the top of the fox’s head, which Graves is sure he should find revolting but is instead somehow intensely adorable. Credence finally tears his gaze away from the dead creature in his arms and lifts his face to meet Graves’ gaze. He’s smiling so widely, and his eyes are positively shining. He’s never looked so happy – or so beautiful. and Graves’ heart feels like it’s bursting. ”Thank-you, Percy, thank-you!”Credence is saying, over and over, with a hint of tears in his voice. He tentatively stretches a tender hand out in Graves’ direction, and then seems to think better of it, and move it back to his side. If only he knew how badly his visitor yearns for that touch which he bestows so freely upon the dead.