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Tweak says, "OMG I so pwn the universe!!!!!"

Amelia Drake (howlingred) wrote in oceancove,
@ 2011-06-14 18:09:00

Current mood:	calm
Current music:	"Warrior" Disturbed.
Entry tags:	c: amelia drake, c: hugh cadigan

Who: Amelia Drake, Hugh Cadigan
When: Evening
Where: Amelia's council office.
What: A reunion of sorts (round two.)
Rating:
Status: Ongoing and in progress.

The head of security at the council offices was a frail fey who everyone called Chuck. The only reason Amelia was able to be at her office without an entourage of eight or more wolves was because of Chuck-- and his hands of power. Amelia had seen the frail figure shatter, giving way to something darkly beautiful and utterly destructive. She nor Chuck ever spoke of the times she saw him use his abilities, and she didn't like to think on those times too often. They tended to bring nightmares. The offices were quiet, only a few representatives worked into the evening. She had stopped by Henry's office, to find that he hadn't arrived, or had already left. It was late enough that the vampire could move around comfortably.

Amelia preferred the quiet. She hadn't been in the offices since she had healed, and she liked that she could hear if someone approached. Someone- she had a hunch Chuck, had also installed a video surveillance system in her office and she could watch who wandered the halls. When she had taken her place on the council, she had gutted the office, fashioning it more to her taste. This office too, had dark woods, deeper colors and over-sized furniture. Decidedly masculine, though there were slight feminine touches.

She had been in the office for a few hours, gotten half way through old request forms when there was a knock at the door. Keigo Casimie, one of the humans who worked with the council and often ran the meetings let himself in. Work was set aside for polite conversation and the assurance that she would in fact be at the next meeting, and no they didn't have to worry about Eamon or Rammsteiner sitting in her stead. (Though, she figured they didn't want either of the wolves there for very different reasons.)

Nearly forty-five minutes later, and four ever present clove cigarettes, Casimie reached across her desk, shook her hand and took his leave. She could almost taste his want to ask what happened to Lida's body, or if she knew anything more than the small amount of information they had sated the press with.

She came across the file on Hugh that McKinnon's office had brought by. With a grin, she settled in to flip through it. Naturally, her thoughts turned to the other wolf, the abrupt call back to Budapest and her. Amelia's lip curled on reflex, annoyed at how Hugh was pulled back and forth. She wanted to keep a close eye on Hugh, her reasoning more personal than she'd like to admit.

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fuzzydiplomat
2011-06-15 09:24 pm UTC (link)

There was one name that all air travelers had come to fear over the last month or so. Eyjafjallajökull. Since the volcano had blown its top back in April, air traffic had become even more of a nightmare than usual. The ash cloud -- probably the biggest thing to come out of Iceland since Björk -- had cancelled flights all over Western Europe and had, for a period of time, fundamentally changed the conversation in airport terminals: "Where were you headed before the last eruption?" became a commonly grumbled question between passengers.

Hugh had been grounded in various places in Eastern Europe for nearly a week, shuffled between the former bloc countries like a kid between two divorcing parents. He'd even spent an eventful few days in a hotel in Slovenia, where he and a dressage team of Lipizzaner stallion riders had crossed paths, and where Hugh had remembered -- after a fall -- that he had no real talent for riding.

"Thank Christ" was his response when the airline lifted the hold on flights to the States. He boarded he next available red eye and touched down the following morning, sliding off the plane and into a rental car for the drive back to the Cove. His time in Budapest had been productive, if not outright rigorous. He had been well used. His initial report, though far from complete, was received positively. It wasn't sneered at, at least. And they had done their best to charm him: dinner at Gresham Palace, a private reception at Királyi Vár, and a personal guarantee from his employer that, should his objective go well, he would be handsomely rewarded. Hugh did not know what the White Lady meant by "handsomely," but he was pretty sure it would be better than a box of steaks or a couple of lotto tickets.

Returning to the Cove was, in some ways, like coming home. He felt comfortable here and that troubled him.

It was a little after six o'clock when he made it to the council office. Afterhours Cadigan: dressed down in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt bearing a logo that had been fuzzed out by multiple washings. His satchel slung across his shoulder, he nodded 'hello' to old Chuck (who eyed him suspiciously and asked to see I.D. twice) and pressed forward into the hallway. 'Little bar of light beneath Amelia's door. The muscle in his chest did a quick set of calisthenic exercises.

He thought, Why not?, and rapped his knuckles on the door frame.

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howlingred
2011-06-15 09:44 pm UTC (link)

With the knock, Amelia jumped in her seat, a quick glance to the screen set into her desk, hidden from the casual observer. She stared at the screen for a few minutes, taking in the fuzzy outline of Hugh. She shoved the file into a desk drawer, locked it, tucked away the key. Smoothing her hands though her hair, pulling it away from her face, wanting to do something with it rather than letting it hang there.

She got up from the desk, opened the office door, grinning at the other wolf. Her hands, once again went to her hair, a nervous habit. "Come in." Held the door open so he could come in. She took in the worn t-shirt and the fact that his jeans were probably as old as he was.

Anything but professional. The bit of worry that had entered her thoughts when she saw him faded. "Have a nice flight?" Carefully questioning, testing the waters about his trip.

	fuzzydiplomat 2011-06-17 12:05 am UTC (link)
	"Fuzzy slippers and boxed wine?" he ventured. (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	howlingred 2011-06-17 12:14 am UTC (link)
	"So you were worried." Amelia smirked. "Don't worry. You're safe. He doesn't like sheep." (Reply to this) (Parent)

	fuzzydiplomat 2011-06-17 12:26 am UTC (link)
	"That --" he slipped a finger from the side of his glass and aimed it at her, smirking "-- is hurtful. You've been spending too much time with your second." Beat. "Did you send him the pictures?" (Reply to this) (Thread)

	howlingred 2011-06-17 12:40 am UTC (link)
	"I sent him lots of pictures." Avoidance once more. "Aww, I hurt you your feelings. Want me to kiss it better, Cadigan?" (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)