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Post by David Young Henning on Jan 6, 2011 15:08:40 GMT -8
"Mmm," Henning said, the warmth of her lips lingering on his. "Penance..."
He stopped, frowning. Where had he seen that word before? It must have been during his first day in town. He tried to remember what he had done... The A&G Diner parking lot floated into his mind, and he stowed the image away in a mental drawer for later perusal. Reaching over, he retrieved Charlotte's notebook and Polly's photo album from the side table and laid them out between them.
"Charlotte, I spent the morning talking with an individual whom I thought might be involved with this whole Smoking Man business. It was a dead end on that account, but I did find out that he has information that could save lives... If he wasn't withholding it in the attempt to protect someone else."
There was a meaningful pause. "If I didn't care about you, if I were still acting in the fullest capacity of my profession, I'd have to demand the full truth by any means possible. And I can't do that, not to you. I guess I'm making the same mistake; I'm suspending information from the Bureau about our relationship, to preserve what we have... But there may come a moment when we are going to have to tell York what we know, and I can't protect you if I don't have the answers. And you, perhaps everyone here in Greenvale, is in need of protection."
He lowered his eyes to where he had taken her hand in his, and nodded at Polly's photo album, filled with newspaper clippings about Anna Graham's murder. Charlotte's notebook lay on top of it, its contents still unknown to him.
"There's a killer on the loose, Charlotte. Secrets are never worth the price of other people's lives."
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Post by Charlotte Jacobs on Jan 6, 2011 15:46:35 GMT -8
Charlotte frowned thoughtfully. Her eyes flicked down to the two items now resting between them. One was her notepad, the inside filled with Mister Stewart’s neat handwriting. The other... looked like a scrapbook of some kind. Interesting. Weird, but definitely interesting.
The words following the meaningful pause caused her stomach to knot and twist around itself. He was doing that for her. Guilt had her grabbing her towel and untangling her legs from his, instead folding them underneath her.
“I would never have asked you to do that... not for me. I know how important your job is to you,” she told him softly. As sweet as it was that he wanted to protect her she didn’t want him to do that by endangering himself. Or his job. And there are some things he can’t protect me from... And those were the things she had sworn to protect HIM from. If there was any way for her to do so. She was aware that she couldn’t be everywhere. Let alone with him all the time. But she could try.
But for now she had to worry about whether or not to tell David that it was Mister Stewart that she was protecting. It would come out soon enough that he had been the one to give her the information she wanted to share. But this? She suspected that it would send him straight to the door of the mansion.
She was too stationary. The urge to pace, to move, to do SOMEthing other than sit there, had her scrambling off the bed in a tangle of limbs. Momentum carried her towards the couch. Away from the bed... Away from David and the still-present desire to kiss him senseless. Now was not the time, no matter how much she wished it were.
Fuck fuck FUCK.
“Somehow I don’t think my protecting someone is a secret that will get anyone killed. And he’s been through enough.” She was being torn apart. Between her desire to tell David everything, and wanting to keep Mister Stewart’s name out of it. Charlotte circled, the couch, her pacing growing faster as she headed towards the kitchen. Tea. Maybe I should make tea...
“Believe me... I want to tell you. The idea of keeping something from you doesn’t sit well...” she said, back towards him as she fiddled one-handed with her electric tea pot. It was rather awkward, but she couldn't exactly LET GO of the towel, now, could she. “Fuck...” she muttered softly. I’ll make tea later.
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Post by David Young Henning on Jan 8, 2011 10:29:27 GMT -8
Henning felt a desultory twinge in his chest as Charlotte sprang up off the bed. He knew it wasn't to get away from him... But it felt like the notebook and album had come between them, in more ways than one. He rolled over on his back and stared at the ceiling while Charlotte paced. Then something she said made him rise up on his elbows and stare at her.
"Been through enough? There's a dead girl in town and someone tried to kill you! This mystery person must really have his share of problems to top that..."
He stopped and shook his head. "I'm sorry, Charlotte, now I'm just being cruel. And impatient. Again, traits that might have served me better if this were a proper interrogation room and you were some kind of... I don't know... hardened criminal. I'm going to assume you aren't."
He got up and put his hands gently on her shoulders, as much to reinstate contact as to stop her from wandering so restlessly around the room. "If neither of us feel comfortable with reiterating our day just yet, we could always check out that camera of yours. Maybe there's some clues in the pictures you shot?"
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Post by Charlotte Jacobs on Jan 8, 2011 10:59:03 GMT -8
Charlotte leaned forward and rested her head against the cupboards. She fervently wished that the two of them could have a moment where they could just BE. No puzzle, no mystery to solve. Just Charlotte, and David. You can always drop the towel, chimed in that cheeky part of her. Or just seduce him! She gave herself a mental shake. This was SO not the time...
His surprise at her saying that Mister Stewart (though he didn’t know it was Mister Stewart, of course. Not yet) had been through enough almost made her laugh. If you only knew... She fervently wished she could tell him. Though the notebook might do it for her.
She couldn’t help but smirk over her shoulder at him when he said he assumed she wasn’t a hardened criminal.
“Thank you for that. And you’re not being cruel. A little impatient, but not cruel. Just... business-like, maybe?” She shrugged. “Or something.”
David put his hands on her shoulders, and she was hard-pressed not to lean back into him. As it was she still did, a little (before she stopped herself). She sighed softly, and turned around so she was facing him. He was very very close... Without thinking she rose up and kissed him gently. The desire to let the towel pool on the floor and tangle her fingers in his hair burned in her. After a very long moment she ended the kiss, brushing her fingertips lightly down his neck.
“I told you everything that happened today. I promise. The only thing I haven’t shared is the name of the person who I thought was in danger. That’s all.” There was nothing more for her to tell beyond that. “We could indeed. It shouldn’t take too terribly long, either.” She glanced down at her towel, then back up at him with a lop-sided, amused smile. “I would, however, need to put on some clothes. Can’t very well run around the hotel in a towel.”
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Post by David Young Henning on Jan 8, 2011 16:42:23 GMT -8
No law saying you can't.... Henning almost said out loud, but then he remembered Polly Oxford and wondered if maybe there was. He kissed her back and watched as she disappeared into the bathroom... Almost immediately his thoughts went to the little notebook still lying on the bed. He turned to look at it and could almost feel a physical pull towards it. Could there be anything of importance within its pages? Perhaps the name of the mysterious Mr. X who seemed to have earned Charlotte's silence?
She'd said she'd told him everything except for that one detail, but somehow the freshly-changed gauze on her fingertips struck him as oddly incongruent with her claim... He'd be deliberately violating her confidence if he looked... It might be important... It might save lives if he knew...
Instead of thinking about it further, he went into the kitchen and started fiddling with things. "Did you want me to make some tea?" he called over his shoulder, hoping she could hear him from the bathroom. "I can start boiling some water or something... I mean, I haven't checked your cupboards or anything, but I recall making you some Earl Grey when we met last year and that was, uh, you seemed to enjoy... that."
His head thunked against the cupboard, coincidentally in the exact same place Charlotte's head had rested moments before. At least he'd succeeded in making himself forget about the notebook.
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Post by Charlotte Jacobs on Jan 8, 2011 17:08:41 GMT -8
Charlotte closed the bathroom door behind her and sagged against it, her head thudding against the wood. She let the bundle of clothes fall to the floor, and she closed her eyes and tried very hard not to go back out and thoroughly snog him. With or without the towel. Growling in frustration she quickly began going about getting dressed.
In the act of putting on her jeans, she heard him say something about making tea. Tea... would be good. Granted, a stiff drink might also be nice, but for now tea would have to do.
“Tea would be wonderful, she called back. Then she quickly finished pulling on her jeans and threw on a camisole. Staring at her reflection in the mirror for a moment, Charlotte scrubbed a hand through her hair and headed out to rejoin David.
He was in the kitchen, looking like he was about to begin tea preparation. Oh, to hell with it. The tea wasn't going anywhere, nor was the roll of film and notebook. She crossed the space between them and took a hold of his tie, gently pulling him around to face her...
Then she tugged him into a fervent kiss.
Letting the kiss trail off (though she did not want to. At ALL), Charlotte released his tie, and went to grab the roll of film. Reaching the door, she turned back.
"Coming?"
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Post by David Young Henning on Jan 8, 2011 20:13:13 GMT -8
"I'm getting mixed messages here," Henning said as he followed Charlotte out the door, his expression that of a man who has just been knocked for a loop. "But I'm guessing the tea can wait until after we get that film developed. Speaking of which, I'm going to warn you right now that I don't know the first thing about photography. I'm going to be about as much help to you as a... man who doesn't know the first thing about photography."
There wasn't a cupboard around to bang his head against, so he settled for adding painfully, "You look nice, by the way," and willing for his shirt to hurry up and dry for God's sake.
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Post by Charlotte Jacobs on Jan 8, 2011 20:22:28 GMT -8
Charlotte blushed, drawing to a stop.
“Sorry. I... The tea’s not going anywhere, yeah? And depending on what we find... we may need the tea.” Or a strong drink. She grinned, grabbing his hand and intertwining her fingers with his. “No worries. I...” she trailed off for a moment, before finishing quietly, “enjoy your company.”
His saying that she looked nice made her face burn, and she ducked her head a little.
“Thank you...” She realised that his shirt was still wet from their embrace earlier. Without thinking she said, “I, ah... have a shirt that you could borrow. If you want. At least until your shirt, um, dries.”
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Post by David Young Henning on Jan 8, 2011 20:44:57 GMT -8
"It's okay," Henning said, wondering what shirts Charlotte could own that would both fit him and not make him look like a cross-dresser. "I'm fine. ...You know, I have a very distant recollection of wanting to get into photography when I was maybe thirteen or so, but I don't think my parents were very encouraging. You think we'd have still met if I had ended up working with a camera instead of the Bureau?"
They were standing outside what looked like a janitor's supply closet, hands still clasped together. Henning didn't exactly feel his enthusiasm for what the film roll might contain recede, but he did feel... torn. As if part of him simply wanted Charlotte to toss the roll in the trash so they could get on with their lives, untouched by the madness that had colored even their first meeting...
"Sorry, I'm not usually so whimsical," he said, letting go of her hand and opening the door. "After you, Charlotte."
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Post by Charlotte Jacobs on Jan 8, 2011 20:58:58 GMT -8
Charlotte smiled, a soft look in her eyes.
“I hope so,” she said quietly.
Then she slipped past him into the closet-turned-darkroom, pausing only to press a quick kiss to his lips. “Don’t be. Whimsy isn’t always a bad thing.” She started getting everything organized, making sure there was a clear path, and that the gallon jugs of developing chemicals were close to the sink where they were supposed to be. She laid out all the tools she would need, since she’d be using them in total darkness.
“Let’s get this started,” she said, filling the sink with hot water (checking the thermometer to ensure that it was hot enough) and picking up the jugs of chemicals and submerging them in it. “You’ll want to come inside and close the door. The total dark bit’s coming up next.
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Post by David Young Henning on Jan 8, 2011 23:36:09 GMT -8
"You know, they have digital cameras now," Henning said wonderingly, looking around at the tiny, cluttered space before closing the door. A vinagery smell, sharp but not unpleasant, reached his nostrils as Charlotte set about preparing the work station. "Seems like an awful lot of equipment just to develop a few photos."
He came up behind her and looked over her shoulder, his interest in her movements going beyond what the film roll might contain.
"You mean it's going to get even darker? Where should I stand so I don't get in your way? I don't want to trip you up and ruin everything..."
Without noticing, he'd put his arms around her middle. They fit cozily together, like two spoons in a drawer. It seemed so natural that it hardly occurred to Henning that he might eventually have to move.
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Post by Charlotte Jacobs on Jan 9, 2011 0:00:26 GMT -8
Charlotte grinned, most of her attention on the task at hand. But there was enough to spare a glance back over her shoulder.
“I know. I have several. But there’s something about the not knowing exactly how the photos will turn out until you develop them that’s just... exciting. Granted, I love shooting digital, and it’s ridiculously useful when I’m looking for a specific shot. But I don’t think I’ll ever quit using film. Not completely.”
His presence behind her was reassuring and warm. Steadying her against the very real possibility of there being something... unexpected on the roll of film.
“Just a little, yeah. Complete lack of light is a must. Not even red safety lights. There’s not a lot...” Charlotte trailed off as he wrapped his arms around her middle. She couldn’t help but smile. It felt... natural. Like they fit. “Not a whole lot of space, ergo, not a whole lot of possibility for me to get tripped up. You’re fine where you are.”
With that she flipped off the lights, and turned off the red safety lights, pitching the closet into total darkness. Unconsciously she started humming ‘Habanera’ from Bizet’s Carmen as she started working. Fingers trailing across the series of tools she’d laid out a moment ago until she found the bottle opener. Using that she popped open the film canister. Once that was taken care of came the fun task of loading the film onto the film reel and getting it into the developing tank.
She blew an unseen strand of hair out of her eyes.
“Thrilling, isn’t it?” she asked with a soft laugh.
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Post by David Young Henning on Jan 9, 2011 1:58:37 GMT -8
"Really? You like not knowing how they're going to come out?" Henning pressed his face a little deeper into Charlotte's shoulder. "Mmm... I'm not big on surprises, and you already know how much I hate waiting. But watching you do this the old-fashioned way.... It's so technical, yet so, I don't know. Soothing, somehow. I haven't felt this calm in... years, I think. A very long time." He stood against her in the darkness, listening to her voice as she hummed away. He didn't know the name of the song, but it sounded familiar. The thought arrived, quietly and without fanfare, that he didn't want to know... Not knowing was okay. Here, with Charlotte, in this moment without past or future, the unknown was only a quiet, nameless melody, flowing softly through a lightless room. Nothing more. He closed his eyes and moved with Charlotte as she reached here and there, working blind yet with total confidence. "When we get out of here, I'm going to have to show you this odd thing given to me this afternoon by an even odder man," he murmured when she stopped humming. "It has nothing to do with anything else that happened today or yesterday, so I'm going to save it for when we have a moment to ourselves. I mean really to ourselves." His arms tightened around her waist. "So... Will we have to wait long, for whatever comes next?" [Happy 2000th post, SSRP. ]
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Post by Charlotte Jacobs on Jan 9, 2011 2:46:09 GMT -8
“It’s a surprise. A good one, though. I mean, you go in having an idea of what should be on the negative... But when you develop it, the photos... sort of have a character of their own.” Charlotte told him with a laugh. “It’s silly... but it’s sort of true, too.” She grinned, knowing he couldn’t see it but he could hear it. “I don’t know... I suspect I can come up with a surprise or two you might enjoy.”
She rested her head against his. It made her... rather goofily happy that something she enjoyed, and found soothing herself, could do the same for him. This was something that was important to her, and though the circumstances were less than ideal, she was glad to get to share it with him. There, in the darkness, the moment seemed to wrap itself around them and a warm sort of contentment washed over her.
“I’m curious, now.” Charlotte said, amused. She wondered who this 'even odder man' was. David would probably tell her; it sounded like there was a story behind the object, whatever it was. The butterflies in her stomach returned with a gentle flutter when he talked about them having a moment to themselves. Just being, without puzzles or questions, would be lovely.
“I rather look forward to that...” she murmured softly, still loading the film onto the reel. She made a soft sound of contentment as his arms tightened around her waist “Well...” she started, biting her lip for a moment as she finished getting said film into place. “I just have to get the film into the developing tank.” Charlotte felt carefully along the counter until she found it, depositing the film roll inside and screwing the lid back onto it so it was light-tight. “Ta da!” she crowed softly, reaching out to turn the red safety light on. Glancing at him, she grinned. "Let there be light!"
The next several steps passed quickly, and soon she was pouring the stabilizer out and washing all the chemicals off the film. She was nervous, and a little bit scared of what they might find. But with David there, arms warm around her waist and face pressed into her shoulder... it didn’t bother her.
She lifted the film reel out of the developing tank, shaking off any excess water. Twisting it apart, and removing the negatives she held it up in triumph. She could see images... So it looked like nothing had gone wrong in the developing process. And the beating that poor camera had taken didn’t seem to have caused much damage to the photos.
“And lo, the film was developed.” Charlotte laughed. “Of course... now they have to dry. Ideally, anyway."
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Post by David Young Henning on Jan 10, 2011 9:16:07 GMT -8
"That's a little bit ominous," Henning said as the light came up. "Does it have to be red?"
He watched as she held up the negatives, from which his eyes were currently unable to discern anything immediately horrific. He didn't know how long it would be until they were dry, so he decided to bring up the thing that was still percolating in the back of his head, tickling him irritably now that the private moment of calm had passed.
"This just occurred to me... I guess we were a little distracted back in the room, but we never got to show-and-tell the two books we'd brought," he said over her shoulder. "Polly Oxford, you probably met her, gave me one of her photo albums. There's newspaper clippings and whatnot in there too; I guess she's a bit of an amateur local historian. I borrowed the most recent one so I could learn a little more about what happened to Anna Graham, but I thought you might be interested in the photo work too."
He left off there, alternately hoping she'd say something about the contents of the notebook and feeling not too great about how dogged his mind was about pursuing this.
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