Work Text:
There was a fox that followed Alicia Wilkershire.
This wasn't the first time Beaford had noticed it. He still thought it was weird as fuck. "Hey," he said, eyeing it warily. "The fox is here."
"Ignore her," Alicia told him, curt and blunt.
"How do you know it's a her?" Beaford asked, as he had before, and probably would again, because Alicia was nothing if not avoidant.
"Just a feeling," Alicia dismissed predictably. "Do you want your ice cream or not?"
Beaford grumbled, but obliged, looking through the options. He settled on a lemon sherbet. The fox watched them. Beaford tried not to be creeped out. It wasn't working. He was very freaked out. Foxes weren't uncommon in Britain, especially around towns, but it was jarring to simply see one out and about in broad daylight following them around.
"It's the same one as last time," Beaford insisted as he dug his tiny spoon into his sherbet.
"Is that so," Alicia said, who had elected mint with chocolate chips, because she was something of a maniac. Beaford supposed it was better than her initial choice of plain vanilla. "And how do you know that?"
Beaford huffed. "It's more than just a feeling."
Alicia hummed inquisitively. Her shirt was buttoned all the way to the neck, as though the blistering heat of the sun couldn't touch her. Beaford didn't understand it. It was tantamount to climate change denial. "Is it?"
"Yeah."
Alicia shot him a sceptical look. She still hadn't touched her ice cream. It would melt before she ever did, at this rate. "Right."
"It is," Beaford insisted and scooped up some more sherbet. He waved his full spoon about before he remembered that it was full and thus an active spill risk. He stuffed it in his mouth, which delayed his response time by approximately five seconds. "But it sounds silly."
"Surprise," said Alicia drily, and Beaford glared half-heartedly.
"I'm not making it up," Beaford grumbled around another spoonful of sherbet.
"Okay," Alicia accepted, and kept on walking. Beaford stared at her meaningfully, which took her a long time to notice, and even longer to act on. "What? Oh. Okay. What is it?"
"The fox smells like lilies."
Alicia stopped suddenly. Beaford blinked, tripping over his ankles and hardly managing to catch himself in time to turn back and frown at her. Alicia was already walking ahead again by the time Beaford was stable again.
"What was that about?" Beaford asked quizzically.
"Thought I saw a spider," Alicia said. Alicia didn't tend to make a lot of eye contact when talking, especially not when talking while walking like this, and yet. And yet, Beaford had the strangest feeling that she was avoiding looking at him.
"Oh," Beaford said, deciding not to push. "Well. It's the weirdest thing. It smells so strongly of lilies. Which, I mean, it's a nice scent, but I don't think foxes go around rolling about in fields of lilies or whatever."
"Strange," Alicia agreed.
Beaford peered at her. "You know, you don't seem very surprised by this. Stalker foxes aren't actually normal, you know that, right?"
Alicia shrugged. "We're exorcists, Beaford. A fox sharing the same habitat as us is hardly reason to panic."
"Correction; you're an exorcist with dubious credentials. I'm your handy assistant. And the fox is weird. I mean, I'm no vet or wildlife specialist, but…"
Alicia just shrugged again.
It was still early in the night. Sleep didn't come easy to Beaford, especially not in unfamiliar spaces. He hadn't been living with Alicia long enough to be accustomed to the apartment yet. The couch was comfortable enough, but he didn't know it. Beaford slid off his headphones and sighed.
Alicia had gone out for a late evening walk and had yet to come back. The house was eerily quiet in her absence. He switched the TV off and stretched his arms over his head, trying his best not to think about whether the little apartment was haunted. He thought it would be rather ironic, the haunted home of the sceptical exorcist, but not something he wanted to deal with himself. One demonic possession was enough for him.
Slowly, he stood up. His back cracked when he twisted. Beaford wondered absently if he wasn't still too young for back pain. His unfortunate gaming habits probably did not help the matter.
Beaford meandered around the living room. Alicia's place wasn't especially interesting or special, no particular personal artifacts for Beaford to examine and/or judge, nothing beyond her fucking trophy cupboard in her office. It was a lonely place alone. Alicia wasn't the type to seek company. Beaford wondered if that was preference or habit, or a mix of the two.
Eventually, Beaford found himself at a window, one that overlooked the empty street alongside the building. It was summer, which meant that the sun was loathe to set, and so it was still fairly light outside, if a bit burnished in a lavender tint. Beaford blinked. He blinked again, wondering if he was seeing things.
The fox was outside. He couldn't smell the lilies from this far, but he had the feeling that it was the usual fox. This, he had come to expect. She was prone to staring after them with too-bright eyes and following with light steps. What was less expected was the fact that Alicia was outside, too, right there, right by the fox.
Alicia and the fox seemed to be having a quiet staring contest, though the same could be said for any of Alicia's interactions. Unblinking blankness was a way of life, and Alicia had long mastered it. It was the fox that moved first, lightly but not slowly, trotting up to Alicia until she could circle by her feet, round and round and round, a carousel of one with no rider. Beaford stifled a laugh. He hadn't taken Alicia to have an affinity for wildlife. It seemed like Alicia hadn't taken herself to have one either, because she looked down at the fox with what Beaford imagined was some surprise. She was too far for him to see her expression, and her head was tilted downwards besides.
Alicia, slowly but deliberately, crouched down, and the fox stopped, curling around to Alicia's front. Their staring contest picked back up again, until Alicia reached a hand out. Beaford squinted. He couldn't tell if she had held a palm out for the fox to sniff at like a dog, or if she was offering food of some kind. He wasn't sure Alicia would know how to feed an animal, even an omnivore like a fox. She didn't seem the nurturing type. Whatever it was, the fox nuzzled against Alicia's palm without prompting.
Beaford let out a soft laugh. His boss-slash-roommate was a Disney princess in disguise.