Wren and Selina have claws (laminette) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2012-10-10 14:25:00 |
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Entry tags: | catwoman |
Who: Wren
What: A teensy narrative
Where: Willows
When: The morning after this
Warnings/Rating: None
It was harmless, really.
Gus was running around with Luke's work pants on his head, and Wren was too caught up in all the charity documentation Evie had given her to do anything about it right away. Anyway, they could always buy new pants if Finch tore a leg off, as he was so diligently trying to do while Gus screamed and fled, only to eventually end up in a crumple of boy and dog and black fabric.
She looked up from the papers and laughed, before going back to scribbling things in the margins. This was going to be a lot of work, she realized, worrying her lip and only half paying attention to the squeals and happy barks across the living room, which looked like a small tornado had come through recently. She was so engrossed that she didn't hear Gus until he was in front of her, his tiny feet too quiet to break her from her reverie until he was right there, dog in tow.
"What's this?" Gus asked, his little boy lisp finally starting to resolve itself a little. He repeated the question in French, and Wren smiled and looked up to see what he was asking about.
In his fingers, Gus held a napkin with writing on it, and Wren looked at it for a second before tugging it gently from his grip. "Just a napkin, bebe. Where was it?"
Gus held up one of the trailing pantlegs from Luke's work pants. "In the pocket."
Wren looked down at the cocktail napkin, which had obviously come from a bar somewhere, given a beer stain in the corner and the sweet scent of booze and smoke still clinging to the white. The handwriting was, Wren thought, female. Maybe it was paranoia on her part, since it was hard to determine gender from numbers written on a bar napkin, but her maman had always told her to trust her gut, and her gut told her the script belonged to a woman.
She didn't crumple the napkin up, and she didn't call the number, but she did jot it down on the back of one of the papers in front of her, before handing it back to Gus. "Put it back in the pocket, and hang Luke's pants up where you found them," she said, a smile and her voice calmer than she felt.
Gus pouted, but he did as he was told. She didn't think to call out to him until he was across the living room. "We'll make whatever you like for lunch if you hurry," she tempted, before running her fingers over the numbers she'd written down moments earlier. It was probably nothing, right? But if it was some random woman, then why did he keep it? She shook her head, and she closed the folder containing all the documents. No, she wasn't going to ask, and she wasn't going to demand. Luke might still come home and tell her about it. He worked late the night before, and maybe he was just too tired. Maybe. He wouldn't lie about working late, not Luke. Right?
She just managed a smile when Gus came back out to the living room.