Work Text:
“Hey, have you seen the…? Oh.”
Simon stops in the doorway and blinks a few times, as though it might change the view in front of him.
“You’re not Julia,” he says. Stupidly. Because the figure currently lurking behind Julia’s desk is very obviously not Simon’s female, middle-aged, chain-smoking, friendly-but-also-slightly-terrifying boss.
The Crown Prince, who for some reason is here, hiding behind the desk in Julia’s office instead of being in the shiny new main building where he’s supposed to be cutting a ribbon and unveiling a plaque right now, rises slowly to his feet, looking as shocked as Simon feels.
“No,” he says. “I’m not.”
There’s a long pause where they stare at each other, then they both start speaking at once.
“I was looking for my manager—”
“I’m sorry, I thought this building was empty—”
“I need to talk to her about a case, it’s—”
“I just stepped away for a minute, I didn’t mean to—”
“But I guess she went over for the ceremony—”
“I didn’t think there would be anyone here.”
They both grind to a halt, and an awkward silence descends again.
Wow, but he looks awful. The thought crosses Simon’s mind before he can stop it, but it’s true. Even under a visible layer of make-up, he’s shocked to see how pale and gaunt Prince Wilhelm appears this close up, sporting dark circles under red-rimmed eyes.
“Are you okay?” he can’t help but ask.
After a beat Wilhelm laughs, a short bark of laughter that makes Simon jump. Wiping his face with one perfectly tailored sleeve, he then walks around the desk so he can lean casually against it and give Simon a thoughtful look.
“Do you know,” he says slowly, “I think you’re the first person to ask me that in a very long time. Maybe ever.”
It’s an unexpected answer, and Simon finds himself flushing oddly under Wilhelm’s attention, intense eyes fixed on his. “I’m sure that can’t be true,” he says, not knowing what else to say.
“What’s your name?”
“Simon.”
The Prince nods, crossing his arms and looking strangely at ease for a man who not five minutes ago was crouched on the floor of someone else’s office. Possibly crying, almost certainly in some kind of distress, though Simon can’t be a hundred percent sure he saw what he thinks he saw.
“I’m Wilhelm. You didn’t want to meet me, Simon? Everyone else is over in the other building, desperate to meet me.”
“Then what are you doing here?” It was, maybe, a bold thing to say to one’s future monarch; but something tells him his instincts were right when Wilhelm doesn’t look offended by the question. On the contrary, he looks almost pleased.
“I’ll answer yours if you answer mine.”
“To be frank,” says Simon, bluntly honest because he’s tired, stressed, and doesn’t have time for this, “I’ve got more important things to do.”
He had actually intended to attend the opening ceremony for the new building this afternoon. They’d all been encouraged to do so. And whatever his personal feelings about the monarchy, he was still human and had to admit a certain curiosity to see the prince in person. But an urgent new case had landed on his desk this morning and he’d lost track of time.
“What is it you do, Simon?” Wilhelm’s not holding up his end of the bargain, asking another question instead of answering his own. But Simon humours him anyway, still in a mild state of shock.
“Social worker,” he says, grim-faced and kind of needing to vent to someone. Even if it is the most unlikely possible person. “I’ve got a family in crisis and siblings about to be split up and sent miles away from each other unless I can sort out a better solution by tonight. So I really don’t have time to spend the afternoon sipping cheap fizzy wine and making small talk.”
“Oh.” Whatever game Wilhelm was playing up to this point, Simon can see the exact moment it ends. For the first time since Simon entered the room, the mask slips away from Wilhelm's face, leaving him somehow looking younger and more vulnerable. More human. “That’s awful. Is there anything…?” He stops, and laughs, pushing a hand through his hair. “I was going to say, is there anything I can do, but that’s stupid, isn’t it? I’m of absolutely no use to anyone.”
It’s an odd way to phrase it, and it makes Simon frown; though, to be fair, it’s not far from his own personal feelings about the Royal Family. “Not in this case, no,” he says instead. “But in general, the care system could always do with more funding. You know, if there’s someone you can lean on…?”
Wilhelm shakes his head, looking haunted. “That’s political. I’m not allowed to do politics.”
What use are you, then? Simon thinks but doesn’t say. He gets the impression he wouldn’t be saying anything Wilhelm doesn’t already think about himself. Which is definitely intriguing.
“So, go on then,” says Simon. “I answered your question, but you haven’t answered mine. Why are you here if everyone is waiting to meet you over there?”
“Maybe…maybe I just wanted to talk to someone who is of use. Who makes an actual difference.”
“Pretty sure you just insulted all my colleagues there.”
Wilhelm looks almost comically horrified as his eyes bulge wide, and Simon just about manages to keep a straight face.
“Oh, shit, no, I didn’t mean… I just…” He stops, then relaxes, possibly realising Simon wasn’t entirely serious. “I just needed a minute alone, I guess. It gets overwhelming sometimes, all those people. I meet people all the time, but I don’t often get to talk to them, you know? Not like this.”
Simon doesn’t know, not really, but he nods anyway. It seems to be the right answer from the way Wilhelm smiles at him. A tiny, pleasurable shiver runs up Simon’s spine at the sight.
Interesting.
“I’d better go back before they call out the military. It was nice to meet you, Simon.” He holds out a hand which Simon shakes automatically. His fingers are cold but his grip is firm and steady as he looks Simon in the eye. And even though Simon knows on some level that he no doubt looks at everyone like that, like they matter, he’s probably been trained to do it since birth…
Even so, it’s still not exactly an unpleasant experience. There’s a few butterflies dancing in his stomach.
“You too,” he says. To his own surprise, he means it.
“I, uh…” Wilhelm takes a deep breath, squares his shoulders. “I’ll be at the drinks reception for a couple of hours or so. Meeting people,” he adds with a slight grimace. “If you get your family sorted out…well, I’d love to hear how it went…?”
“I can’t tell you the details,” says Simon automatically, years of training and a ruthless dedication to the confidentiality of his clients kicking in. “And it might take a lot longer than that anyway, I'll be working late into the evening on this.”
“Oh,” says Wilhelm, looking oddly disappointed.
Simon replays the last few minutes in his head, mentally kicks himself as the butterflies swirl and settle, and quickly adds, “But I could walk over with you now, if you want?”
“Yeah?”
The slow, delighted smile that spreads over Wilhelm’s face is unfairly attractive. At this point Simon could run some kind of butterfly farm from the fluttering in his belly.
He tries to sound nonchalant as he shrugs. “I’ve got to find my manager anyway. And at this point I’m just waiting for people to call me back.” He waves the mobile phone still clutched in his right hand. “No reason to miss your speech.”
There’s a definite wince that crosses Wilhelm’s face at the word ‘speech’, which possibly explains a few things. But he still sounds sincere as he smiles that devastating smile again and says,
“Well, then, Simon. Lead the way.”