| Details for Playing Nice |
| Summary: | Keenan and Rue are minding the shop for the afternoon when Sloan stops by for some supplies. Sloan and Rue play nice. |
| Date: | 16 September, 1939 |
| Location: | MacDiarmada Apothecary |
| Related: | — |
| Characters |
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With Niamh gone, the O'Shea's have been pitching in to run the store until such time as they are able to figure out what they want to do with it. Keenan has managed to work in an afternoon off here and there to give Sorcha some time to herself, usually joined by a certain raven haired witch to go over the books.
This day he's hurrying along Diagon Alley with a tell tale bag in one hand, the curlicues of the 'Tasseo' lettering catching the light with their gilded ink. He barely acknowledges the pedestrians as his long strides eat up the cobblestones, his loose robes fluttering behind him. Finally, there's a little ring of a bell as he opens the door and ducks into the shop quickly, his free hand finishing with the ties on his robe so that he can shed it as he walks down the aisle to the counter at the back of the store, looking for the newest O'Shea.
It's been a while since Veruca got here and sent Sorcha packing to do her own thing for the afternoon, a canceled meeting affording her the extra time. She's used it wisely, going over the books, finding everything diligently in order. So this afternoon, she won't have to work on that, she can just concentrate on keeping her husband company. The books have been put aside already, and she's got a pot of tea brewing in anticipation of Keenan's arrival. When the bell rings she leans to see who's arriving, a smile coming to her lips when she gets a look at the familiar red hair. "Good afternoon, Mister O'Shea."
"And a lovely afternoon it is, Mrs. O'Shea," Keenan responds with a twinkle to his green eyes as he drops the Tasseo bag next to the tea tray and leans his head to finish his greeting with a kiss. "I stopped fer a little somethin' teh go with our tea." The healer robes are draped over the newel at the bottom of the stairs that lead up to Ni- he corrects himself as he thinks it, Sorcha's flat. Glancing around to see if there are any customers at the moment, he steps behind her and wraps his arms around her waist, watching over her shoulder as she finishes brewing the tea.
The kiss is returned warmly, but attention goes right back to the task at hand. Veruca moves easily in the space, already fairly acquainted with it from the time they've spent here lately. And, officially being one of the family now does also put her a little more at ease in the 'family business' space. "Well, aren't you the thoughtful one?" she asks lightly. "What did you bring to brighten up our afternoon?"
"I've heard that if one's goin' tae be late, 'tis best teh show up with somethin' teh placate tha wife," he grins, enjoying the way his wife is at ease in her life with him and his family. "I stopped in fer some lemon remoulade, but tha peach and cardamom tarts caught my eye, so I added a couple of those teh tha bag."
"I'm lucky to have married such a smart man," Veruca muses, twisting in Keenan's arms and giving him a quick kiss. "Tea's ready. I'll pour while you get out the lovely gifts you've brought?"
Since the bell hasn't rung, indicating that they're still alone in the store, Keenan takes advantage of the moment when she turns around to wrap his arms tighter around the small of her back and taste of her lips before tea. They may be back in London, but it seems he's still on a honeymoon time… until the bell /does/ ring and he lets her go to shift to straighten his hair, gold glittering through ginger locks as his left hand tries to rake it in order. One last wink of a green eyes towards Veruca, and then he turns toward the door, greeting the middle-aged witch who enters.
Veruca certainly isn't going to be quick to break the moment unless it becomes a necessity. The honeymoon was a wonderful romp, spending time alone together, not a moment spent bored. It was nearly tragic to have to return to the world after the peace they had. As Keenan lets her go a little suddenly, Veruca giggles, reminded of a boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar. She murmurs softly, "Cad." Then she gets to pouring the tea and setting out the sweets herself while Keenan sees to business.
There's a short little chuckle from the man, but he is all cordial business by the time he needs to help Mrs. Minnerty find a burn salve and lavendar/lemon sachets for her drawers. Somehow, he manages to chat pleasantly with the woman so that she doesn't feel rushed when he ushers her out the door after her purchases are rung up and wrapped. It doesn't take him long to return to his tea, wand at the ready should his tea need a charm to rewarm it. "Now, Mrs. O'Shea, I suppose we need to discuss tha business side o'tha store an' get that outta tha way…" he tilts his head towards the books already closed and finished. Setting his tea and little plate on the counter, he gives the slight hop that sees him sitting on the counter in the customary spot where he always took tea when chatting with his sister. "Everythin' is in order?"
Veruca hits the tea for them both with a warming charm just before Keenan finishes his charming of Mrs. Minnerty, and it's ready when he returns. She leans, her hip against the worktable, pausing to take a sip from her tea before answering. "It all seems to be in fine shape," she says. "Nothing amiss in the least." She smiles at him over her cup. "There. Business done."
"Well, t'was easy enough," Keenan murmurs into his tea cup, taking a sip then cradling the cup in his lap while he reaches down to pick up the slice of remoulade. "I don't see why people think runnin' a business is so difficult when that's all there is to it."
Veruca sets her cup down placidly, then reaches over and has a light slap at Keenan's arm. "Don't be cheeky," she chides with good humor. It's like telling a river to stop flowing. "Just starting back up after being shut down for that long, there's really not much that can have gone wrong with the finances yet."
"Ah, but ye love my cheeky," Keenan reminds her as he hungches slightly at the slap, protecting his tea and then taking another sip. "With ye takin' care o'tha finances, I don't believe anythin' /will/ go wrong with them," he states with absolute confidence. It feels natural to sit here with his tea, the chartreuse robes hung up on the bannister, with a woman he loves… but with a different kind of love. A shadow flickers in his eyes as he looks to the stairs, but then, with the ease of long practice, he banishes it before he turns once more to Veruca. "Any new clents fer ye, love?"
Veruca sees that look pass quickly over Keenan's features, her own eyes softening in response, but she's also put that away by the time he looks over to her. With her teacup in one hand she lets the other rest lightly on Keenan's leg, just near his knee. "I picked up another one yesterday. Some of the old money families are a bit concerned about what the muggle war might do to our economy one day. Others are looking for ways to benefit from it."
Keenan nods and lets out a little sigh as he shifts his own tea cup to one hand, and covers hers with the other. "Things're going teh be tight for Ma an' me Da," he sighs. "O' course, Ma can still come teh Diagon Alley, but if they have too much more than their neighbors… the Aul Man's buildin' a chicken coop fer them in tha corner o'tha garden, an' they'll have eggs, an' maybe some chickens fer eatin' now an' then."
"Between us and your brothers, we'll make sure that they're well taken care of without being obvious about it." Veruca pauses, considering. "Perhaps we can find a way to make things easier on their community, as well." As the idea forms in her head, her eyes sharpen, business mode kicking in for a moment. "We could call it a foundation, set up by an anonymous source."
Swirling the tea in his cup, it takes a moment for the ginger to fully realize what Rue is saying. His head shifts, tilting thoughtfully to look down at her. It may have come unconsciously and seem like nothing to her, but for a man always with a foot in both worlds, and having been slighted at times because of it… Keenan sets his cup down on the counter next to him and slides off the counter, the better to thoroughly kiss her unsuspecting lips as she's off in business land. "If yer mother could hear ye she'd drop dead on tha spot… but I couldneh be more proud teh have ye as ma wife."
Rue is taken by surprise, delightfully so, and she's got a smile for her husband. "We can hope. Perhaps I'll send her an owl…" She lets the thought trail off with a soft laugh, and shrugs her shoulders in a 'can't blame a witch for trying' way. There's a bit of sobering with her next words. "We may not be able to do all that much, but we'll do what we can. If the rationing begins in earnest as everyone is predicting, anything we do will help." Quite a change from the Veruca of two years ago who wouldn't have paid any attention to the goings on in the muggle world.
The shop is currently empty, business seems to be slow for the moment, although from the gaze directed from the man to the woman in his arms, they might not have noticed if there was anyone else in the store besides them. It's not the googley-eyed teenage love, or honeymoon lust that can be seen in the Irish green of Keenan's eyes, it's a wondering pride in Veruca as she continues. He gives one shake of his head, "times like these I'm neh sure what I did teh deserve ye, mo thaisce. Ye've given up everythin' an' joined ma life completely, an' I haveneh had teh give up anything. It seems off balance."
Veruca brings one hand up to lightly stroke Keenan's cheek. "I've gotten much more than I've given up. So don't you worry your pretty little head about it," she teases lightly. "I'll look into the foundation idea, see how best to keep it private and protected." There's a pause, before she adds, "But yes. You are fantastically lucky."
Having entered through the back door, Sloan leans quietly on the door jamb leading into the store room. Flask in one hand, he watches the pair impassive for a long moment. Whatever his thoughts on the happy union of Keenan and Veruca, they're impossible to read on the Auror's face. letting them have their moment, Sloan lets his attention wander around the shop, the only sound he makes is a slight, tiny glug sound as he tips the flask to his lip.
There's a chuckle from the man, but before he can answer, he ears the slight glug and turns to see the man standing there. "Sloan," he greets, the turn of his head becoming more curious than anything else. "I'd ask ye how long ye've been standin' there, except I doubt I'd receive anything more informative than, 'long enough'." His head tilts towards the tea, same old place as Niamh always laid it out. The one main difference is that there's a bag from Tasseo indicating the remoulade and fruit tarts are not homemade. "We've a couple hours, before closin', yet," the man raises his own tea to his lips, although he eyes the flask briefly.
Veruca shifts as Keenan does, her eyes finding the Auror as well. Aside from their 'moment' at the wedding, she still isn't quite sure what to make of Sloan. At least this entrance was far less noisy than their first time meeting upstairs in Keenan's flat. "Hello, Sloan," she says smoothly. "Let me pour you a cup." He can spike it, ignore it
Veruca shifts as Keenan does, her eyes finding the Auror as well. Aside from their 'moment' at the wedding, she still isn't quite sure what to make of Sloan. At least this entrance was far less noisy than their first time meeting upstairs in Keenan's flat. "Hello, Sloan," she says smoothly. "Let me pour you a cup." He can spike it, ignore it, whatever he pleases, but she'll make the gesture.
Pausing in the act of saying no thanks, Sloan shrugs inwardly and decides 'what the hell. may as well play nice' Pocketing the flask, he wraps a scarred and veiny hand around the cup. Repeatedly broken knuckles too thick to fit through the handle "Aye, Thanks." Offering a nod and something that almost, in the right light, if you were REALLY looking, might be an almost hint of a smile. Attention back to Keenan, he adds. "Lost m'watch lad, no clue how long I been here, aye? Long enough."
Keenan raises his eyebrows and tilts his head to indicate to Veruca, 'see what I mean', but there's no annoyance in the gesture. He does, however, recover his own tea and lean back against the counter in the way that he is accustomed, one arm crossing over to his other elbow while he watches Sloan take tea from his wife. "Are ye stayin'? Or just passin' through? Sorcha's out, since we gave her tha afternoon off."
Rue hands off the cup to Sloan, then steps back, her eyes cutting to Keenan with a smirk on her lips. Her attention turns to the bag and she draws out the rest of the pastry, setting it out so the men can help themselves to it. She has no problem letting Keenan do the talking, looking with no little interest to Sloan for his answers.
Offering a slight shrug, Sloan tilts the contents of the tea cup down his throat before carefully setting the cup aside. "I've no' decided yet. I'll not be intruding on ye're time for long. I'm sure ye've got married things tae be dealing wit'. Needin' a pound of Wolfsbane though. aye?"
Pushing easily away from the counter, then turning to set his tea down, Keenan nods as he moves down the aisle. "Aye, but tha best part about bein' married is we have all tha time in tha world teh be doing married things. Rue's becoming a fair cook, in her own right. She hasneh burned her hand once since we've been married." He reaches up on the shelf and pulls down a couple of the larger boxes of the requested herb.
"You should come by for dinner sometime, Sloan," Veruca says, putting the offer on the table. She moves as she talks, crossing to the spot where the store ledgers rest, putting them back in their places among other books.
Taking the herb quietly and stuffing it into his coat, revealing a threadbare and many time washed, but still faintly bloodstained shirt, Sloan leans on the door jamb once more. "Aye. all th' time in the world, but still with a hunger tae do more." at the offer of coming to dinner sometime, he adds. "I Dinnae eat much, but I'll be keepin' it tae mind Lass. Thank ye."
Out of habit, Keenan's eyes are drawn to the shirt, making sure the stain is faint, and not a new something that Sloan is trying to hide. There's a twinkle in his eye at the mention of hunger, and he lets his head dip to concede the point, "do scor". The bell rings to the front, and he turns to address customers. «your point»
Veruca inclines her head, responding softly, "You're welcome any time." Her eyes stay on him a moment before a half smile comes. "You should eat more." She turns then, gathering up teacups by the handles. "Keep him company, would you?" she asks Sloan. Well, technically it's somewhere between asking and expecting he will anyway if she were to clear out. While Keenan helps the customer, Veruca walks to the shop's front door, to go out and up to Keenan's…. actually, their flat with the dirty cups.
Offering a parting nod to Rue, Sloan remains silent as Keenan helps his customer, retreating like his Ghost namesake into the shadows just inside the storage room until the customer is finished.