Chapter Text
“So,” Holliday clapped her hands together. “Go through the motions again.”
“I don’t talk until she does,” she said haltingly. “And I stand up when she comes into the room.”
“Yes…?”
Morrigan straightened her shoulders, “No swearing, no slang, avoid contractions, and-” she laced her fingers together. “I forgot.”
Holliday pressed her fingers to the sides of her face, “No touching your face, try to keep your hands at your sides, unless she wants to shake your hand.”
“Right,” she said. “Right. It’s just… quite hard to remember everything in the moment but-”
“Tea?” Martha popped her head in the door. “I have biscuits too, if you’d like, Miss Morrigan.”
She was ready to die for a nice cup of tea with a biscuit but she looked over at Holliday instead, who was looking at Martha, her head tilted slightly to the sides, her eyes narrowing, “Martha, was it?”
“Yes,” she opened the door fully, pushing in the tea trolley, smiling prettily, at Morrigan, and then at Holliday. Holliday didn’t exactly smile back, but she looked her up and down, slowly, rolling the muscles in her neck until Morrigan heard little pop pop pop sounds, and she noticed for the first time, that while she had acrylic nails on, all painted plum to match her suit and makeup, on her right hand, the three middle fingernails ended at the tip of her finger, which was a style she had never seen before.
Martha seemed to notice too, her face flushing, but she gave them tea.
“Are you busy right now?” Holliday asked. “I would hate to be a hindrance on your time.”
That was funny, she thought, given that she never cared if she was being a hindrance on Morrigan’s time. In fact, she seemed to almost relish taking up as much of it as possible. But that could be the bitterness talking, she supposed.
“What do you need?” Martha asked, over casual. Her hands folded over each other again and again, like a bored child’s game.
“Oh, don’t do that,” Holliday touched Martha’s hands gently, moving them to her sides. “We just need a stand-in for Queen Caledonia, that’s all. Five minutes, I promise.”
She looked at her cautiously, and Morrigan suddenly had the feeling that both of them had managed to forget she was in the room too. She wondered if she ought to cough as a reminder.
“Alright then,” Martha said. “What do you want me to do?”
“So,” Charlie knew his face was bright red but he forced his mouth to open, forced himself to keep going, “I was wondering, if you were, I mean, if you might be, ahem, available for dinner tonight, with me?”
“Oh,” Martha said, and his heart sank immediately. They weren’t… exclusive but they had been going on dates casually for a while, whenever one of them got the nerve up to ask. “Ah, Charlie, I actually have plans for tonight, sorry.”
“Ah, right,” he straightened up. “That’s- well that’s completely- I’m sorry.” He mentally binned his ideas about wandering around the cobbled streets of Old Town with ice cream and holding hands, and all that nonsense. It was stupid anyway.
Her eyes softened, and she smoothed over his lapels for him, “Another night, okay?”
“Who is it?” he asked, trying to regain some confidence. “If you want to tell me, I mean. If you don't, that's completely fine.”
“A new friend,” she said, but she was smiling, her eyes suddenly far away. Her index finger picked at the cuticle on her thumb.
“Have fun.” He tried not to choke on his disappointment.
They got off shift at the same time, and his routine was to head out into Old Town for a bit and enjoy the evening, especially since he had no plans anymore, but he spotted Martha on the steps of the hotel, getting into a shiny black car he’d seen earlier that day, with a smartly dressed driver, whom he had been talking to earlier.
“Did you guys know Martha is friends with Holliday Wu?” he asked Kedgeree, and Chef Honeycutt, who had been discussing the menu changes to Kedgeree, like they did every Friday evening, when he headed back inside, the tips of his fingers ice cold.
“She’s what?”
“Sure, I saw her getting picked up by her driver. I think she was in the car too.”
Chef Honeycutt raised their eyebrows at Kedgeree, who momentarily scowled, “That’s certainly interesting. Ms Wu seems… like she wouldn’t exactly be Martha’s type, if I may say.”
Charlie felt his nostrils flare, “I said they were friends.”
“For now,” they said, looking meaningfully at Kedgeree, who started patting his pockets. “Perhaps.” They turned back to Kedgeree, “What do you think about the pistachio tiramisu?”
“Delicious,” he said. “If you have any left over at the end of the night, let me know.”
“Of course.”
“Morning, Martha,” Jupiter rubbed his face. “Long night?”
She blushed a little, turning up the collar of her uniform, “Ah, yes. But I’m ready for work now, sir.”
There was a pink cloud around her head, dusted lightly with yellow. Affection and attraction. He didn’t need to be a Witness to see that she was tired, that she had probably been in some bar or nightclub for most of the night, but to her credit she didn’t smell like alcohol or smoke and it was just her gait, and the dark circles under her eyes that gave her away.
“What time is it?” he yawned, trying to be casual. “I’ve been shut up in my study since midnight.”
“It’s ah-” she checked her wristwatch. “Five in the morning.”
“You’re not due to start until six,” he reminded her. “I’m off to make a pot of tea in the kitchens if you want to join me?”
“Shouldn’t you be getting to bed, sir,” she flushed. “With all due respect.”
He sighed, “Probably, but I have a gateway scheduled at seven forty five, too much to do, I’m afraid. Sleep will just have to wait.”
He scorched the tea leaves, but Martha didn’t complain, even though he could see that she could tell. At one point, while they were sitting in the low chairs on the table in the kitchens, she brushed her hand through her hair, like she was combing it with her fingers, and he spotted a string coming out of her fingers, drawing her to someone, “What do you think of Holliday Wu?” he asked.
She eyed him, “Never get anything past you, can I?”
“It could just be in general?”
“But it isn’t.”
“No,” he said. “I won’t ask for details, trust me, don’t want them, but you had fun?”
“It was nice,” she said. “No one’s ever bought me flowers before.”
“Holliday is very nice,” he said. “Just- be careful.”
She wetted her lips and stifled a yawn with her hand, “I know. Things haven’t always been the best- what she did to Morrigan was reprehensible.”
He wanted to ask her why did you go on a date with her then? but he managed to hold his tongue. Just about. It was a bit of a challenge.
“We’re not, ahem, she’s not my girlfriend or anything,” Martha said. “She says she’s not ready for anything serious right now, so we’re just… having fun, I suppose. If she wants to go out again, I mean.”
Jupiter rubbed his temples and drained his teacup, “It’s not my place to tell you if you should or shouldn’t be in a relationship, but talk to me if you need to.”
Martha looked at him carefully, his words being weighed up on her shoulders, “I’ll keep it in mind.”
Kedgeree tried not to raise his eyebrows at Martha as she smiled at the flowers delivered to her. And the notes. So many notes. All with Ms Wu’s perfume coming off of them. Being a concierge meant keeping his mouth shut and doing what the guests wanted him to do but Martha was his coworker, not a guest, and this seemed… out of character, if he was being honest.
And it completely ruined the betting pool he had had with Frank, Chef Honeycutt, Fenestra, and Dame Chanda. Not least because Chef Honeycutt, of all people, had said that if Charlie took much longer asking Martha out, she might be snatched up by someone else.
He now owed them 125 Kred, which was humiliating since he was the one who was supposed to predict what people wanted and what they were going to do. It was like he had wandered into the kitchens and earned his own Lightwing Spatulas in their facilities.
“What is it, Kedgeree?” she asked him.
He jumped, “Pardon, what did you say?”
She smiled at him, “You’ve been staring into the middle distance for about ten minutes. I asked you what was wrong.”
“Nothing,” he looked at her. Her hair had been done slightly differently. Still professional and tidy, but it was shinier, and glossy. She had new earrings in, little gold studs with pearls dotted around them. No prizes for guessing where those had come from, he supposed.
“Those are nice earrings,” he said.
She touched them, clearly trying not to smile, “Thank you. A friend gave them to me.”
“I wish my friends gave me nice jewellery,” he said, half joking.
Martha laughed, dissolving the tension in the room, before a guest came up to check out, and she had to leave to clean the rooms in the North Wing.
“Here’s the money,” he said, handing it over in an envelope. It was possibly ethically dubious to bet on his colleagues’ love lives but sometimes they got bored, and watching Martha and Charlie dance around each other had been fairly decent entertainment. And it was less migraine inducing than one of Frank’s… episodes.
“You’re a complete cow, Honeycutt,” Fen grumbled, passing on her own money.
“I honestly did not see this one coming,” Dame Chanda said.
“You don’t approve?” Kedgeree glanced at her.
“I wouldn’t say that,” she said. “It’s always… character building to indulge in a few ill-advised affairs in one’s youth. You know that as well as I do, Ree-ree.”
He felt his face heat up, but refused to lose his composure, “But Ms. Wu-”
“Martha is sensible enough,” she said. “But Holliday is an expert at what she does. I hope she keeps herself safe, is all. We don’t need another instance of what happened with Jupiter and that angel.”
Kedgeree did not groan remembering the mess his employer had attempted to hide from everyone a few years before Jack had moved in. It was tempting though, “Never again,” he declared.
“But Martha needs to make her own mistakes,” Fenestra said. “Even if they’re incredibly stupid.”
“Even then,” Chanda sighed.
“Twenty kred says that she’s crying about Wu by the end of the week,” Honeycutt held out their hand. “Any takers?”
“No,” Kedgeree sighed.
“Not yet,” said Fenestra.