The squeal of delight was followed up by a brutal body slam as Opal wrapped both arms and legs around the man. Good thing he was used to the treatment and so managed, if just by a hair, to keep his feet, chuckling softly as he wrapped his arms around her waist. ?"ello there my little gem. The day finds you well?"
When she turned her face to look at him, he could see the extra makeup applied and a small swelling on her left cheekbone. "Course now that Ah"m w"you, yeah' Right' Right!" Her words held more of the thick accent than usual and he knew she'd be stubborn about any direct questioning of the obvious bruise on her face.
Circumspection, that was what the situation called for so he pulled out a bit he'd be saving. "Where are you from anyway, Opal. Every time I think I've pinned it down, you change it up."
More than willing to talk about something that wasn't the bruise on her face she pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before launching into the recanting of her past. "When I were but a pup I lived in Ireland, I'm thinking my words have suffered something terrible for the time there. There was time and eventually I was in London now weren't I?" He had met her in London so he knew that to be true. "Them there weren't so fond of the Irish so I got it in my head to adopt the language so they'd adopt me, you see" Sometimes when I'm tired or drinking a pint or three too many the Irish comes out fighting, all Irish are fighters you understand."
"A pup?" He moved, still holding Opal around the waist, and sat in a nearby chair, shifting her to a comfortable position.
"Yeah well, figure people treat me like a stray dog, don't they' Kick you when you're down, throw trash at you and tell you to git! Might as well embrace that, shouldn't I" Some people like them stray dogs, pander to them that might like you is how I figure things. Worked out some days now dinnit?"
It was a twisted kind of logic that he'd come to expect from Opal, she put on a brilliant show of being a poor, dumb street rat. If you paid enough attention, listened to the intent behind the broken words and watched her while she worked you couldn't help but know she was one smart cookie.
"Kick you, more like punch." His hand rose to cup her cheek, a thumb brushing over the swollen area. "Who did this?" His voice was soft, calm, willing her to open up to him, if just this once.
"Weren't it my fault this?" Said as she shied away from the touch, her makeup job was better than it looked, the bruise beneath was nasty and even the gentle touch stung. "Sure t"was. Was late. He only wanted to give me an opportunity to cogitate on my shortcomings so as I can make them longer. No need to worry, for I've done a fair "mount of cogitating on the matter and have seen the path to wisdom." Meaning she'd not be late again when it came to meetings with the same man.
"Opal..." Benedict was a man of few vices, Opal was one of them. They had an unusual relationship, one that defied defining.
"Don't be giving me my name in that tone, Ben. You'll be happy t'see me and help distract me from any more cogitating or I'll leave. Promise that, I do." She would, would be gone as quickly as she blew into his world and he could not allow that.
"Hungry?" It was more rhetorical than it sounded, as far as he could tell Opal was always hungry.
"Ah Ben, you know what I like, you do. Steak?" The word infused with a longing rarely heard when speaking about food.
"As you wish, my gem. Steak it is."
When she turned her face to look at him, he could see the extra makeup applied and a small swelling on her left cheekbone. "Course now that Ah"m w"you, yeah' Right' Right!" Her words held more of the thick accent than usual and he knew she'd be stubborn about any direct questioning of the obvious bruise on her face.
Circumspection, that was what the situation called for so he pulled out a bit he'd be saving. "Where are you from anyway, Opal. Every time I think I've pinned it down, you change it up."
More than willing to talk about something that wasn't the bruise on her face she pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before launching into the recanting of her past. "When I were but a pup I lived in Ireland, I'm thinking my words have suffered something terrible for the time there. There was time and eventually I was in London now weren't I?" He had met her in London so he knew that to be true. "Them there weren't so fond of the Irish so I got it in my head to adopt the language so they'd adopt me, you see" Sometimes when I'm tired or drinking a pint or three too many the Irish comes out fighting, all Irish are fighters you understand."
"A pup?" He moved, still holding Opal around the waist, and sat in a nearby chair, shifting her to a comfortable position.
"Yeah well, figure people treat me like a stray dog, don't they' Kick you when you're down, throw trash at you and tell you to git! Might as well embrace that, shouldn't I" Some people like them stray dogs, pander to them that might like you is how I figure things. Worked out some days now dinnit?"
It was a twisted kind of logic that he'd come to expect from Opal, she put on a brilliant show of being a poor, dumb street rat. If you paid enough attention, listened to the intent behind the broken words and watched her while she worked you couldn't help but know she was one smart cookie.
"Kick you, more like punch." His hand rose to cup her cheek, a thumb brushing over the swollen area. "Who did this?" His voice was soft, calm, willing her to open up to him, if just this once.
"Weren't it my fault this?" Said as she shied away from the touch, her makeup job was better than it looked, the bruise beneath was nasty and even the gentle touch stung. "Sure t"was. Was late. He only wanted to give me an opportunity to cogitate on my shortcomings so as I can make them longer. No need to worry, for I've done a fair "mount of cogitating on the matter and have seen the path to wisdom." Meaning she'd not be late again when it came to meetings with the same man.
"Opal..." Benedict was a man of few vices, Opal was one of them. They had an unusual relationship, one that defied defining.
"Don't be giving me my name in that tone, Ben. You'll be happy t'see me and help distract me from any more cogitating or I'll leave. Promise that, I do." She would, would be gone as quickly as she blew into his world and he could not allow that.
"Hungry?" It was more rhetorical than it sounded, as far as he could tell Opal was always hungry.
"Ah Ben, you know what I like, you do. Steak?" The word infused with a longing rarely heard when speaking about food.
"As you wish, my gem. Steak it is."