" ... your two o'clock to four, so you should have plenty of time to prepare for the meeting," Bethany Hul'Garin was saying, reeling off the list of duties her employer, Mataru Frondaya, was expected to attend to during the day. The only problem there was, the drow man didn't seem to be with her.
Oh, he was with her, physically sitting at his desk, nodding absent-mindedly every time she paused to take a breath, but he wasn't with her. There was a faraway look in his red eyes, and he was thoughtlessly fingering the silk of his tie as he stared into the middle distance.
Just to check, Bethany added, "And the Rhy'Din School of Autonomous Thought would like you to head over in half an hour to give them a strip tease, followed by dessert served directly from your naked buttocks."
Mataru nodded slowly. "Mmhmm, I see." There was a pause. "Wait, what?"
Laughing, Bethany shook her head, laying down the diary from which she had been reading to give him her full attention, even if his was a little wayward today. "What's on your mind, Mataru? Something important?"
"On my mind?" He gave her a faraway look, blinked, and suddenly she was the focus of his stern gaze. "Why should you think there is anything on my mind?"
"Oh, I don't know," she shrugged. "Your agreement to serve pudding naked to a school that doesn't exist, maybe?"
Mataru scowled at her, but the expression had none of the force his temper could have given it. He shook his head, rolling his eyes.
"Bethany, you're a human woman," he said then, leaning forward to place his clasped hands on the desk between them. "How long would you expect a man to wait for you to call him?"
The Assistant Director of the Shambles Clinic blinked, momentarily dumbstruck by the query. "Uh," she said intelligently, before snapping her brain into gear. "That would depend on how much I liked him, how busy I was. No more than a couple of weeks, certainly. Why, how long has it been?"
The drow Director sighed, sounding almost miserable. "Almost nine months."
"Nine months?" Bethany was gobsmacked. "Why haven't you called her?"
He shrugged lightly. "I do not wish to appear as though I am being too forceful," he told her quietly. "She has her career, and I have my own responsibilities. I was under the impression human women liked to have their own space."
"Not that much space, Mataru," Bethany shook her head disapprovingly. "She probably thinks you've completely forgotten about her."
Mataru frowned, rubbing his hand over his dark brow. "What should I do?"
"Presents," his friend said in a firm voice. "You can't go wrong with presents. And an apology for waiting so long."
Three hours later, a courier was dispatched from the Shambles Clinic to travel across town to the offices of The Rhy'Din Post , bearing three boxes of varying size to be delivered directly to the desk of one Miss Ashley Weatherl. Upon opening her delivery, she would discover a bouquet of deep red roses, a silver snowflake hung on a delicate chain, and a glass paperweight enclosing an open geode of amethyst. A note was included with the roses, just two short lines in flowing handwritten script.
"Winter has been in my heart since last we spoke. Call me.
Mataru."
http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tWtGNWVDlTE/SR3Vy1DOF8I/AAAAAAAABfM/th2xfqrEKXU/s400/flowers-directory-12-red-rose-bouquet.jpghttp://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bnPgtEKxF9U/Sx2ZGPLt7_I/AAAAAAAAARs/ANhkW9zB3nM/s320/snowflake+necklace.jpg
http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jzafKiQXACk/R_yxW0gzL6I/AAAAAAAABPU/Xrg_fdh4ogM/s400/geode2.gif
Oh, he was with her, physically sitting at his desk, nodding absent-mindedly every time she paused to take a breath, but he wasn't with her. There was a faraway look in his red eyes, and he was thoughtlessly fingering the silk of his tie as he stared into the middle distance.
Just to check, Bethany added, "And the Rhy'Din School of Autonomous Thought would like you to head over in half an hour to give them a strip tease, followed by dessert served directly from your naked buttocks."
Mataru nodded slowly. "Mmhmm, I see." There was a pause. "Wait, what?"
Laughing, Bethany shook her head, laying down the diary from which she had been reading to give him her full attention, even if his was a little wayward today. "What's on your mind, Mataru? Something important?"
"On my mind?" He gave her a faraway look, blinked, and suddenly she was the focus of his stern gaze. "Why should you think there is anything on my mind?"
"Oh, I don't know," she shrugged. "Your agreement to serve pudding naked to a school that doesn't exist, maybe?"
Mataru scowled at her, but the expression had none of the force his temper could have given it. He shook his head, rolling his eyes.
"Bethany, you're a human woman," he said then, leaning forward to place his clasped hands on the desk between them. "How long would you expect a man to wait for you to call him?"
The Assistant Director of the Shambles Clinic blinked, momentarily dumbstruck by the query. "Uh," she said intelligently, before snapping her brain into gear. "That would depend on how much I liked him, how busy I was. No more than a couple of weeks, certainly. Why, how long has it been?"
The drow Director sighed, sounding almost miserable. "Almost nine months."
"Nine months?" Bethany was gobsmacked. "Why haven't you called her?"
He shrugged lightly. "I do not wish to appear as though I am being too forceful," he told her quietly. "She has her career, and I have my own responsibilities. I was under the impression human women liked to have their own space."
"Not that much space, Mataru," Bethany shook her head disapprovingly. "She probably thinks you've completely forgotten about her."
Mataru frowned, rubbing his hand over his dark brow. "What should I do?"
"Presents," his friend said in a firm voice. "You can't go wrong with presents. And an apology for waiting so long."
Three hours later, a courier was dispatched from the Shambles Clinic to travel across town to the offices of The Rhy'Din Post , bearing three boxes of varying size to be delivered directly to the desk of one Miss Ashley Weatherl. Upon opening her delivery, she would discover a bouquet of deep red roses, a silver snowflake hung on a delicate chain, and a glass paperweight enclosing an open geode of amethyst. A note was included with the roses, just two short lines in flowing handwritten script.
"Winter has been in my heart since last we spoke. Call me.
Mataru."
http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tWtGNWVDlTE/SR3Vy1DOF8I/AAAAAAAABfM/th2xfqrEKXU/s400/flowers-directory-12-red-rose-bouquet.jpghttp://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bnPgtEKxF9U/Sx2ZGPLt7_I/AAAAAAAAARs/ANhkW9zB3nM/s320/snowflake+necklace.jpg
http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jzafKiQXACk/R_yxW0gzL6I/AAAAAAAABPU/Xrg_fdh4ogM/s400/geode2.gif