Work Text:
Part One -- What's Nu?
[In which Quinn places a call on a Friday afternoon in late June to Jocasta's Rare Books & Donuts in New Anoat, Massachusetts and talks with Benjamin Nu, Jocasta's son....]
"I'm looking for 'The Firebrand Alight' by O.B.W. Kenobi, please. It was published by Organa House, I believe." Quinn leaned back into the chair in his home office as he talked on the phone. He didn't get an answer immediately and could all but hear the silent consternation on the other end of the line, especially with his Force-enhanced senses.
"You're the second person who's asked me about Kenobi in the last few days," Ben said in the same tone he'd used when his Qui had brought up the subject to begin with. "And no one's ever mentioned him to me before this week." He sounded aggrieved, as if he held Quinn personally responsible for this affront. Then he took Quinn's name, address, and phone number with the utmost reluctance.
"Great minds..." Quinn trailed off, somehow sensing the frown all the way from Massachusetts. His Jedi telepathy kicked in, as he thought he heard a whispered, "Take a hike," but Benjamin Nu actually said something quite different, the words polite but the delivery bordering on rude.
"I'll let you know if I can find it, sir," said Ben in a frosty dismissal and hung up.
Quinn muttered, "Friendly fellow," and Ian chuckled from his perch on the desk, in kissing distance from Quinn's chair.
"Says the Master Diplomat of our family," Ian teased, kicking his sneakers against the bottom drawer in a rhythmic accompaniment to his words.
Giving Ian his best bow, Quinn said airily, "I'm off for the summer."
"Not according to Case, you're not," said Ian wryly. The chairman of the English Department at Luke had a 24-7 management style.
"Well, that's exactly why I need some quality entertainment in July, to fill the scant time I do have off for fun," Quinn said. "And I've heard all sorts of good things about 'The Firebrand Alight'."
Ian said, "Yes, Kenobi's a wonderfully quirky author -- you've got to be to come up with a pseudonym like that." He winked at his husband. "Can you imagine using Q.G. Jinn as a pen name?" He gave out a merry laugh.
Quinn winked back. "Actually, it would shake up the editorial staff at some of those stuffy academic journals, I imagine. It has a maverick ring to it."
"That it does," said Ian. "I love it." His sneakers drummed into the desk in agreement.
"And what would happen if someone were to submit a Master's thesis written by one Q.G. Jinn?" Quinn couldn't suppress a laugh.
"All of the professors on his committee would go wild, especially the hardcore Star Wars fans," Ian said knowingly.
"And speaking of Star Wars," Quinn said, an impish smile gracing his face as he looked straight at Ian. "Benjamin Nu seems to be channeling O.B.W. Kenobi; the Force of his personality comes through loud and clear over the phone."
Ian grinned. "Yeah, I've ordered books from him before; he's an expert negotiator. I always end up paying a little more than I intended to before I spoke with him, even though I'm not too shabby myself when it comes to hammering out a deal." He blew on his fingernails playfully. "But Nu is great at locating out-of-print books. He found a 1953 edition of 'The Charioteer' in good condition for me, after the pages started falling out of my old one."
This book by Mary Renault was one of their favorites, and they'd both published monographs on her writings, just as they had with Tolkien. They'd also presented papers on Ralph Lanyon, the most fascinating character in the story, at a symposium on 'The Charioteer' at Princeton University, back in 2007.
Quinn nodded. "For some reason, there seem to be more copies available of the 1959 Pantheon edition."
"Probably because Pantheon had a bigger press run. And it's an American publishing company, versus Longman's, a British publisher." Ian sighed. "I don't like the 1959 version as much, because so many excellent paragraphs were taken out in Renault's revision," said Ian.
"Too true," Quinn said, regret evident in his voice. "We should buy a copy of the Virago Press reprint from 2014."
Ian nodded. "Can't have too many editions of one of our favorite books. Just look at how many copies of 'The Hobbit' and 'The Lord of the Rings' we have."
"Enough to fill up an entire shelf." Quinn smiled. "And when you add 'The Silmarillion' and the other books edited by Christopher Tolkien, it's more like a bookcase full."
Ian looked up at Quinn's framed print of 'The Unexpected Party' by the Hildebrandt Brothers, which was hanging on the wall in front of him. Somehow, he always grinned at this scene from 'The Hobbit', when Gandalf and all of the dwarves descended upon Bag End on one memorable night in May, when an epic adventure was about to start.
"Well, let's hope Mr. Nu can help us find 'The Firebrand Alight'," Quinn said. "Organa House Publishing is no longer in business, though I read in last week's Book Review section in 'The New York Times' that the Organas' daughter Leah is trying to raise the capital for another go at it next year."
"That's good news," Ian said, then continued, "But in the meantime, you'll probably be able to buy the book within the week this way. Benjamin Nu's a reliable sort, even though he can be a wee bit prickly sometimes, especially when he breaks a tea cup." He grinned. "I had the misfortune to be on the phone with him when that happened a couple of months ago."
"Your timing is impeccable, lad," drawled Quinn. "As is mine -- he was certainly 'teed off' at me today."
Ian mock-groaned in delight. "You're giving me more and more competition in the pun department," he said merrily.
Quinn answered, "You've always been a good influence on me, laddie mine."
It was Ian's turn to bow comically, his eyes sparkling. "Did you know that Benjamin Nu has a little shop in Massachusetts, right by the Atlantic Ocean, a short car ride up the coastline from Mace University?"
Mace was one of their favorite places in the whole galaxy, since they had fallen in love there during a symposium on Tolkien's wizards, back in 2003. Then, they had chosen to get married at Mace Chapel in 2005, just one year after marriage equality had become the law in Massachusetts. They'd even come back to Windover again in 2014, when their family took a cruise to New England on the QO2 to celebrate Kathy and Monty's 15th anniversary.
"Who knows? We might have time to visit Windover and New Anoat if we ever get out from under our research for the Forster paper," said Quinn, the gleam in his eye matching Ian's.
Ian's grin grew wider. "Oh, I'd like that."
"Like it? You'd probably want to live at Jocasta's, just like you seem to do at the Luke Bookstore," Quinn said with a chuckle.
"Have you forgotten what I said on the cruise so soon?" Ian flashed him a grin. "Our real paradise is right here at home."
Just as he had on their cruise to Bermuda, Quinn pulled his husband into his arms for a kiss. All conversation paused for at least an eon.
When Quinn resurfaced, he forced himself to consider their academic responsibilities. "We have to go over the Forster glosses soon," he said. "We'd better make time to visit the Manuscript Room at the Luke Library sometime this week."
Ian sighed. He'd been planning on working on the lecture notes for his Chaucer course next semester. "Okay. How 'bout Wednesday?"
After scrolling through his schedule, Quinn said, "That's fine." He ran his hands through his summer-long hair. "Don't know how we're going to make the MLA deadline of September 30th at the rate we're going."
Ian said ruefully, "Well, we've got to talk to Case about it. He's been keeping us so busy with advising, it's no wonder we haven't finished going through Forster's first draft of 'A Room with a View' yet."
"Good luck with that," Quinn said, all too familiar with their no-nonsense department chairman.
Ian gave him a sly grin. "Shouldn't it be 'May the Force be with you', Master Qui?"
"I daresay it should, Prentice mine. We'll need all the help we can get." Quinn could just not keep a straight face.
Part Two -- What Else is Nu?
[In which Benjamin Nu returns Quinn's phone call in his inimitable style.]
The professors had made what Ian called "a wee bit of progress" on their Forster paper by the time the phone rang on Saturday afternoon. Mr. Nu had good news for them -- he had found a used copy of 'The Firebrand Alight', and it would arrive in two business days, if Quinn wanted it. "I've marked it down to $ 11.38 because it's a bit worse for wear," Ben said, his obscure way of saying that Windu Cat had gnawed on it like a chew toy when it had the misfortune of being temporarily stored on the bookshelf by the window.
"As long as it won't fall apart while I'm still reading it, I'll take it," Quinn said.
There was an ominous silence on the other end of the line, then, "Maybe not the *first* time," said Ben drolly.
Of course, poor Quinn couldn't tell if he was joking or not. Kind of like Ian, sometimes. A bit of mischief got into Quinn, perhaps as a way to balance Ben's. "I'll buy it anyway," he said, "and perhaps you could include a dozen Boston Cream donuts with the order?"
The silence became even more ominous, some might say Sithly. "We're not *currently* offering donuts for sale," Ben said carefully, his tone as starchy as his shirt.
Quinn heard a deep male chuckle, quickly shushed, in the background on Ben's end of the line and sensed a story behind it, but he didn't push his luck. "Okay, that's fine. Thank you." A faint yowl seemed to answer him instead of Ben. Quinn paid for the book with his and Ian's joint MasterGuard, feeling a glow of satisfaction. After he rang off, Quinn said under his breath, "You think he would change the name of the bookshop if they don't even have donuts."
Ian called his herven into the kitchen, when he heard him hang up. "I can't offer you any donuts, either, because we're fresh out of them this afternoon. But what do you think about a slice of Violet's Key Lime pie with a vanilla latte for a snack?"
"Sounds grand, laddie." Quinn came over to give his lad a kiss at the counter, where the Gaggia cappuccino maker was bubbling along as it brewed their vanilla lattes.
Quinn's favorite green mug was already on the kitchen table, along with Ian's twin blue one, both of which Lelia had made for them in a pottery class three years ago. A dessert plate waited on each placemat, along with a fork and spoon on a sky-blue napkin.
Quinn got the pie out of the refrigerator, while Ian poured their lattes. They sat down at the table and smiled at each other over their mugs. Then Ian looked at Quinn as he angled the cake knife over the pie. Quinn put his hand over Ian's, as they had done in the cake-cutting ceremonies for both of their weddings. He steered Ian into giving him a huge slice, just as his husband had expected.
"So, against all odds, I just ordered a copy of 'The Firebrand Alight', thanks to Benjamin Nu's amazing detective skills." Quinn took a sip of his latte.
Ian said, "If it's as good as I've heard, I'll consider using it in my Modern Lit course over the spring semester."
Quinn was making short work of his pie. "You can read it first, darlin'." He chuckled. "And next time I call Mr. Nu, remind me to order a copy of O.B.W. Kenobi's 'A Patrician with Mud on His Boots'."