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girlsoloMischief managed before three o’clock and Kate is still bored. She’s still frustrated. She still wants to opt out and there’s still nowhere to go. Her skin’s too tight, like it’s going to split and peel off or it should but it won’t and she’s losing her damned mind.
If there were just a retrieval to do or someone to rescue from a renegade Abnormal or hell even weapons inventory to do, she’d be fine. There’s not. She’s not fine. But she can fake it.
People keep telling her she should settle down, accept her situation, find someplace to live. Well, Kate Freelander’s not going to do that, but Keya Shankar, Ravi’s wife, named for a monsoon flower, Keya can settle down. Calm, pretty Keya from a good family in Mumbai can wrap a length of flowered fabric around her like a sarong, neatly cover a jacket and tie in a pack on her lower back, and examine huts and homesteads in search of a home. Somewhere that won’t feel too lonely, for a young widow.
The Redman Boarding House, for example, where she’s seen a skinny, polished British-looking guy coming and going today already. On the second floor on the end, conveniently located next to a stairwell for easy access, and so that Keya can disappear if Kate needs to make a quick escape.
Keya knocks politely, or seems to, while Kate’s letting herself in to the room. Once in, she abandons Keya’s demure, delicate personality and hangs the jacket and tie behind the door on a hanger with a note that says to return to the tall blond guy who lives in New Bohemia next to Trixa. After that, she takes a tour around the tidy, clean room, no touching so there’ll be no prints, and she looks for what to borrow.
It’s strange, the little things that bug her on the island. Magnus’s hair being too long. Will wearing glasses. It gives him the whole sexy professor vibe, yeah, but he also looks like Harry Potter without the scar. And he doesn’t wear them at home. It just looks wrong and she trips over it mentally every time she sees them. Whether or not they’re splashed with milk from nursing the damn sloth.
That’s what she’s thinking when she pulls the gloves out of her bra and then tugs them on. That the case on the nightstand probably has glasses that this guy probably didn’t wear at home because he probably had contacts. She’s not sure why he wouldn’t be wearing them, but maybe he’s got both. Some people do.
She opens the case to find a pair of gold pince-nez. They’re so poncy they might almost be antiques or worth something on an antique market back home. Since she’s definitely going to take them, Kate tries them on. She expects a headache from the vision correction but there isn’t one. Headache or correction.
Vanity glasses? Oh hell yeah, she’s taking those. If the prescription was too strong, she wouldn’t have. Because of Auggie. If someone took his cane, she’d be pissed and she barely even knows him. If he gave her half a chance though, yeah, she’d definitely like to know him better. Maybe she’ll look for him later.
Later. Focus, Freelander.
Grinning to herself at the much more pleasant prospect, Kate takes the glasses but leaves the case. Since he doesn’t need them for anything, Kate doesn’t feel bad for not making it obvious. The suit jacket and tie on the back of the door are signal enough.
She should polish up the Keya persona for future use. Pretty up her hair and smize (come on, everyone’s seen America’s Next Top Model; Kate just prefers Project Runway) in the mirror. Keya should find someone to talk about available rooms just to keep Kate’s skills fresh.
Maybe she should, but Kate’s opting out of that, too.
She takes the back stairs and slips out.
If there were just a retrieval to do or someone to rescue from a renegade Abnormal or hell even weapons inventory to do, she’d be fine. There’s not. She’s not fine. But she can fake it.
People keep telling her she should settle down, accept her situation, find someplace to live. Well, Kate Freelander’s not going to do that, but Keya Shankar, Ravi’s wife, named for a monsoon flower, Keya can settle down. Calm, pretty Keya from a good family in Mumbai can wrap a length of flowered fabric around her like a sarong, neatly cover a jacket and tie in a pack on her lower back, and examine huts and homesteads in search of a home. Somewhere that won’t feel too lonely, for a young widow.
The Redman Boarding House, for example, where she’s seen a skinny, polished British-looking guy coming and going today already. On the second floor on the end, conveniently located next to a stairwell for easy access, and so that Keya can disappear if Kate needs to make a quick escape.
Keya knocks politely, or seems to, while Kate’s letting herself in to the room. Once in, she abandons Keya’s demure, delicate personality and hangs the jacket and tie behind the door on a hanger with a note that says to return to the tall blond guy who lives in New Bohemia next to Trixa. After that, she takes a tour around the tidy, clean room, no touching so there’ll be no prints, and she looks for what to borrow.
It’s strange, the little things that bug her on the island. Magnus’s hair being too long. Will wearing glasses. It gives him the whole sexy professor vibe, yeah, but he also looks like Harry Potter without the scar. And he doesn’t wear them at home. It just looks wrong and she trips over it mentally every time she sees them. Whether or not they’re splashed with milk from nursing the damn sloth.
That’s what she’s thinking when she pulls the gloves out of her bra and then tugs them on. That the case on the nightstand probably has glasses that this guy probably didn’t wear at home because he probably had contacts. She’s not sure why he wouldn’t be wearing them, but maybe he’s got both. Some people do.
She opens the case to find a pair of gold pince-nez. They’re so poncy they might almost be antiques or worth something on an antique market back home. Since she’s definitely going to take them, Kate tries them on. She expects a headache from the vision correction but there isn’t one. Headache or correction.
Vanity glasses? Oh hell yeah, she’s taking those. If the prescription was too strong, she wouldn’t have. Because of Auggie. If someone took his cane, she’d be pissed and she barely even knows him. If he gave her half a chance though, yeah, she’d definitely like to know him better. Maybe she’ll look for him later.
Later. Focus, Freelander.
Grinning to herself at the much more pleasant prospect, Kate takes the glasses but leaves the case. Since he doesn’t need them for anything, Kate doesn’t feel bad for not making it obvious. The suit jacket and tie on the back of the door are signal enough.
She should polish up the Keya persona for future use. Pretty up her hair and smize (come on, everyone’s seen America’s Next Top Model; Kate just prefers Project Runway) in the mirror. Keya should find someone to talk about available rooms just to keep Kate’s skills fresh.
Maybe she should, but Kate’s opting out of that, too.
She takes the back stairs and slips out.
