inbox.

[unshut]

(crystal | written | action)

Comments

[bouchonne]

My dear Fitcher.

[unshut]

Why, if it isn't our esteemed Ambassador.

[bouchonne]

Would you have a drink with me, dear Fitcher?

[ that question is funny. ]

[unshut]

[He can't see her big dark doe eyes, but there is something in the sound of her voice which implies them.]

Happily. Where would you like me?

[bouchonne]

You are a pleasure no matter where you are. But perhaps the Frog and Firkin?

[unshut]

I've business in Kirkwall to see to at sunset, but I'll meet you there an hour after.

[bouchonne]

Oh ho. What sort of business?

[unshut]

The most clandestine sort.

[Such mystery, such intrigue!]

I'm seeing my tailor. I'll show you my new shirt when we meet if you like.

[bouchonne]

Ah, I should be most pleased. And I should think you should look quite fine in a tailored shirt, rather than a dress.

[unshut]

[She tsks at him, an easy sound.]

I will see what can be done about wearing it out then, and so eagerly await your final verdict on the subject.

[bouchonne]

How kind you are, to weight my judgment in such a manner!

[unshut]

I'm very fond of a compliment, and make a point of soliciting them whenever possible.

[bouchonne]

I do know this about you. It's why we get on so well; I love giving them.

Till later, dear Fitcher.

[unshut]

[Later then: the Frog and the Firkin. There is a woman in a lovely pale blue silk shirt and close cut dark trousers, the

all of her thick and slightly coarse hair descending across one shoulder where she sits in wait at some discreet corner table. There is a bottle of wine (something decent, but not rich; she has balanced her accounts for the new year and has yet to swing her ledger either in the direction of either very poor or very flush with spending money) and two glasses.]