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Angus has a rough few weeks his first month on the moonbase. It’s not exactly the new job, but his new life. Davenport could see it, in quiet meetings with the Director. He was isolated, he was just a child. Not that the rest of the Bureau employees didn’t take to him, but something was still missing under all of the paperwork and red tape. After a week of building up the energy, Davenport found himself in the library. Returning the proper books to the proper shelves, grabbing new tomes for peoples research and silently skimming the titles. Some titles seemed fuzzy while others were clear as day. He pulled out a book with a wavering title, and through the empty shelf, saw Angus. Elbow deep in research, eyes squinting behind his too large frames. The sound of his turning pages seemed to echo throughout the library, but he was focused on the words, surrounded by other books he must have done the same with.
The gnome wondered how long he’d been sitting there, and if this was routine. He was a kid, he shouldn’t be stuck studying all day. With a heavy sigh, he set down the rest of the books and walked over the table. Angus didn’t notice the light footsteps, encaptured in his reading. “Hey kid.” His voice was gravely with unuse. The book falls to the table with a light screech of the chair moving and Angus toppling to the ground. His glasses fell about a foot away, and Angus reached over the mess to grab them. “Oh I’m sorry sir, I was reading and I didn’t hear you come up and-” He places the frames back on. “Mr. Davenport sir? Did you just- sir did you just talk? I thought you can only say your name?” He gets on his knees and then stands up, taller then Davenport. “Davenport,” and then Davenport shook his head. There was a beat of silence as Angus watched Davenport struggle for a second. He tried again. “Do you like playing cards?”
Davenport isn’t sure how he knows these games, and Angus hasn’t heard of most of them, but it works. It turns into a weekly foray out of their usual schedules, both sitting down in the relative silence of the cafeteria. Playing there was always nice, it was way too big for two people, and Angus said his excuse was “oh it’s an automatic snack break sir!” Davenport knew the boy liked the familiarity and routine so he never questioned it. At first, the games are played in relative silence after Davenport explains them (after some time, but Angus is patient). Slowly, they begin to have conversations. Mainly Angus of course, Davenport either responding with shrugs or sighs, or smiles, or even the occasional “Davenport”.
The first time it slipped he froze. It felt like a step back. “Sir, if words are all that hard you don’t have to say them that much! I can talk plenty for both of us, and you really do convey a lot with just your name!” Angus said with so much optimism, he couldn’t help but feel better. “Davenport?” he tried. “Yeah really sir, I’m not the world’s best detective for nothing.” Davenport was able to match the kid’s grin, and they continued playing. He’s able to slowly build up one-word answers casually, then two, and sometimes there’s conversation and sometimes not. Angus is patient, and Davenport is grateful. The kid takes this time to talk about things he usually wouldn’t. A listening ear can do wonders. An odd friendship formed, and Davenport felt like this happened before. But he couldn’t remember.
The cards are shuffled as Angus starts the game off. It’s silent today, save for the small slips of cards being placed down. Davenport has a good poker face, almost like he’s been trained for it. Angus doesn’t and lets a smile show when he gets a good card. He quickly tries to negate this with an over the top frown. Davenport thought since he was such a good detective he’d have a better time hiding that, but he could tell he let his guard down around friends. Suddenly, Davenport placed down his hand. “Daven. Port”, he said smugly, as he crossed his arms. Angus sighed and handed him the chocolate muffin on his side of the table, “Why do I even bet anymore?” Davenport shrugged and took a victory bite of the muffin. The cards are gathered and Angus starts to reshuffle when a hand appeared on his shoulder. “Hey kid isn’t it your bedtime?” The hand belonged to a short man with a bureau uniform on. He looked new. Or maybe Davenport had just ignored his harassing presence and forgotten him.
“Sir, it’s only 6:45 and I work here,” Angus set the cards down carefully and the air grew tense as the man didn’t lift his hand from his shoulder. “What’s your name? Angus right? Mcdougle or whatever. I’m glad the director pitied you enough to get my job.” As he spoke he drew his face closer and Angus struggled not to shake. He glanced over to the seat across to find that Davenport was missing from his chair. A small gasp escaped him, and the man put his hand on his other shoulder. “Not even the idiot gnome can help you,” He leered. Angus felt his breathing quicken as he pondered. Did he really take his job? A hand was briefly removed from his shoulder and Angus felt frozen as the chair slid backwards. “Leave. The kid. The fuck. Alone.” The man whipped around, leaving Angus free. He shot up from the chair and ran in the other direction.
Davenport stood about two feet away, a wand drawn Angus was unaware he had. “You- you can talk?” The man stuttered, now more nervous than before. He reached for his own wand as Davenport flicked his wrist. “And you can bleed,” he nearly growled. Three bright red bolts of magic missile were fired from the tip of his wand, hitting the man one after the other. He collapsed to the floor with a heavy thud as the cafeteria fell once again into silence. Angus slowly walked back over to Davenport, who continued to stare motionless at the now bloodied man. Angus tugged on his sleeve and he met his eyes. “I was so scared you left and I can normally take care of myself but, i froze, and I thought you left and I didn’t realize I took this man’s job and-” Davenport cut him off by pulling him into a hug. “Davenport,” He said softly, and Angus continued to cry into his shoulder. Angus could hear what he meant. “I gotcha kid.”