Who: Martine, Gatsby, open What: Broody and Moody When: Thursday, April 14th Where: A scruffy little cafe that Martine's grown to love Status: Technically complete, but can be open for any who want to join in.
Martine noticed a spot of tea on the plastic table cover in front of her and she trailed a fingertip in it idly, pushing it around and forming it into a small face. At least, it was supposed to be face. There wasn't enough tea for that, however, and it ended up being a relatively small "o" instead. The rest she'd have to leave to imagination.
She was still worried about Dr. Ferguson. She was worried for him on a personal basis, naturally. The doctor wasn't exactly effusively friendly, but she thought him an intrinsically good man and she desperately hoped nothing had happened to him. There'd been no word yet, at least none that had got back to her, and that should be a positive thing, if anything. After all, if he was dead then the news would definitely get out. If he was being questioned anywhere, or had given cause for suspicion then the Military would we everywhere in swarms. Martine hadn't noticed any marked increase in their presence, however.
Which was also a good good thing. Aidan was still in her place, although plans were in motion to move him elsewhere soon. Long term, it was hoped that he could restart his workshop somewhere. Feelers for possible places were certainly being put out, but it was difficult to find somewhere safe enough for him while being large enough for his needs. Still, Martine was sure that somewhere would be found. After all, Noah was helping with the search, and while he was more than good about Aidan being in her place - maybe even liked the man - Martine knew he wasn't happy about the situation and nobody would be happier than him when Aidan was finally - safely - ensconced somewhere away from her.
Martine liked to amuse herself by thinking Noah was a little jealous.
She finished her tea and gazed into the empty mug briefly. Then she pushed her chair back from the table with a sigh, and a winced apology to the cafe owner when the chair's feet dragged and screeched over the floor tiles. To show her remorse she took her mug back over to the counter and left a tip on the cracked white saucer. Then she smiled and nodded slightly, muttered a "goodbye" and left the place. She refused to dwell on the thought that Noah would soon be off on his travels again, taking something she didn't know about to somewhere she had no idea of. One day he wouldn't come back, and she wouldn't even know where to start looking for him.
No. Let's dwell on the jealousy again. That was fun.