WHO: Charlie Quinn and Penelope Rulli WHEN: About ten years ago. WHERE: The Red Cloak. SUMMARY: Penelope and Charlie meet for the very first time - they're kind of awkward about it. WARNINGS: None STATUS: Fin.
Sometimes it felt as if she had never left home. And Penelope could never decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
Her flats made more sound than they should against the sidewalk as she bobbed and weaved through the foot traffic, in her rush toward the Red Cloak. Penelope was halfway toward the store when she realized that she had been urging herself to keep up with her aunt’s speed and intonation. Only able to catch every second word, at best, when the older woman spoke that quickly, it was clear to her that there was some sort of emergency. Or, so her aunt thought. Then again, the woman always wanted everything and everyone at her fingertips several weeks before she even considered it. Penelope knew better. And so she slowed her steps.
She should have let her voicemail take it as she usually did when her aunt or father called. The heavy sigh was stifled down her throat. Instead she provided the appropriate ‘hmms’, ‘of course’ (in Spanish), and Rioplatense colloquiums to satisfy her aunt.
She missed Woodsbridge. It felt as if the only moments she spent in town was by the college area or to visit the store, to visit her aunt. Meeting with her friends tended to happen elsewhere. So, a slower pace wasn’t a bad thing. It allowed her to pick up on any changes in the town. Even if it meant rapid fire on why she was “late”.
“Yes, aunt, of course. No. Yes. I am listening. I promise.” Penelope reassured, even going so far as waiting for aunt to pause her spiel before she switched her cellphone to her other ear. In doing so, and possibly rolling her eyes toward the Red Cloak’s sign, she missed someone else reaching for the door at the same time. “I’m sorry.” She murmured in English. “Yes, aunt. I am sorry.” She switched back to Spanish. Penelope wondered if it was petty to let her aunt continue her soliloquy and not inform the older woman that she was just outside. The presence of someone nearby was like a leash in keeping Penelope from rolling her eyes again. But it was a near thing.
She gave the other woman a small smile; one she resisted sliding off her face as something familiar niggled at the back of her mind. It was hard to focus on with her aunt in her ear.
“After you.” Penelope stated as she held the door open.
For a few stunned seconds Charlie had to remind herself not to stare. True, she’d come here to observe the woman who had just spoken to her, but she hadn’t expected to run into her immediately upon arriving at The Red Cloak.
“Thanks.” She flashed a quick smile before walking through, her mind was buzzing with -- well, she wasn’t sure what to call it. It was a bit like that feeling you got when suddenly, out of nowhere, you felt alive but that wasn’t it exactly.
She walked towards one of the displays, doing her best to pretend that she was here with a purpose. It was simultaneously easy and difficult. Shoppers all looked the same, but the solitary ones were harder to imitate. She was realizing too late that bringing a friend for cover would have been a wiser move. Charlie stared at a black dress as she tried not to look back at Penelope.
The option to register had scared her at first, it still did in a lot of ways, but it had enabled her to find a few of the fairies. Which had been a blessing and a curse. They were the only tale mates she would have cared to seek out, but the notion of saying anything about their shared story wasn’t a realistic one.
Penelope was a woman on a mission -- or more a woman looking to avoid a lecture at age twenty-three. Therefore, she didn’t really pause to contemplate that warm and delightful sensation one got in the presence of another Tale. At another moment, she might have actually sought out a brief conversation. Momentarily fooling herself into trying to guess if she was speaking with a Talemate. Penelope could never tell, of course. But she liked to say, at least to herself, she could feel something. Because she believed one should.
Yet, for now, the new customer was placed out of her mind.
She headed to the backroom but one of the cashiers called her attention. Her aunt apparently had just stepped out. And she would be back shortly. In Penelope’s opinion, Emilia Rulli’s perception of “shortly” followed no sensible consideration for time.
A measured huff both slowly eked out Pen’s irritation and kept it at bay. She murmured her thank you and hesitated before deciding to head toward the displays. There was nothing she wanted. However, she liked to wander the store. Penelope liked to see what of her grandfather she could still find. Her aunt liked to occasionally change things and it felt like pieces of his store were being overshadowed by her vision. Understandable. But Penelope didn’t get to see him much since he moved to Florida. Properly visiting through the store tied with calling him.
However, she pretended she was looking at the clothing. It made the employees less jumpy. These ones had been bred under her aunt's thumb (her grandfather’s had an ease about them because he supported that kind of attitude) and deserved a few moments of breathing. Plus, it was less weird.
Yet her eyes drifted back toward the store’s solitary customer. There was something familiar about her. Not in a Tale sense, but in a familiar face one. Penelope debated asking but decided against it.
Except what was the harm in one question? Unless she really didn’t want to be disturbed. And besides, it wasn’t even that big of a deal. She would let it go.
Just say something or leave. Just say something or leave. Just say something ---
Charlie returned to the black dress she’d first been looking at when she’d entered the store, found her size on the rack and approached the other woman at a leisurely pace. “Hi,” she smiled in what she knew to be friendly but not overly friendly way. “Does this happen to come in any other colors?”
It wasn't a question she actually wanted an answer to but she’d come here to talk about anything that would let her get a feel for what Penelope might be like.
Penelope blinked. Caught in her mental back and forth - one where none of the options were the current scenario - she completely missed the other woman moving closer. Still, being caught off guard, didn’t stop Pen’s own smile. Small, but no less approachable. “Uh.” Her eyes darted to the employees - she didn’t know the answer to that question - and then back to the dress. “We should.” She stated before she looked back at the blonde. Penelope tried her best to hide the curiosity in her gaze. “I can go check for you? Let me go check. Please, wait and I’ll be back immediately.” And Penelope meant that. She might not know what was in stock (she probably should …), but she knew how ontop of things her aunt was.
Charlie realized her mistake too late, as the other woman’s eyes darted to the other people in the shop she tensed up a little. She should have gone with a question about what Penelope would wear with this dress, she should have tried the overly friendly with fellow shoppers route. “You … do you work here? I’m so sorry. I thought I’d seen you around before.” She backtracked.
Penelope paused mid-walk and turned around to face Charlie. “It’s fine. It’s an honest mistake. My, um, family. They own the store. That might be it? Or … do you, or did you, go to the Academy?” She was a little relieved, and slightly amused, that the question she had been pondering had been broached without her needing to be the one to do it. Nevertheless, she hesitated before she admitted with a sheepish smile, “Because I’ve been having the same feeling.” Penelope moved closer. The dress could wait for a moment. That is, if the other woman even really wanted it. “As if I’ve seen you before. I was thinking it had to have definitely been around campus.”
“I did go to the Academy,” Charlie nodded. For a few seconds she couldn’t tell if the other woman’s words were making her nervous because she had come here with ulterior motives or if it was the fact that she was still angry with herself for the stupid slip up. She inhaled deeply and tried to keep her expression pleasant. “I bet that’s it,” the smile that had started to form on her lips grew a fraction. “What did you study?” Maybe they actually had crossed paths there.
“Engineering.” Penelope stated brightly. She noticed, and couldn’t help but feel pleased, by the other woman’s smile. It was slight but Penelope felt herself returning a grin in return. It wavered slightly as it dawned on her that she might have been looking at her too intensely. Yet the feeling nagged. Maybe she was one of her - No, that didn’t make sense. For one, Penelope recalled all of the students she tutored.
Penelope’s gaze skipped away and fell on a design on the ceiling. The spiral of the wood trimming, though lovely, didn’t require such a thoughtful expression. She’s going to think I’m so weird, Penelope thought to herself, unaware of Charlie’s own inner chastising, and blowing the situation out of proportion. “Civil Engineering. I still tutor math there?” She offered. “What about you?” Pen asked as she looked back down at the other woman. They were about the same age. And the town wasn’t that large. Nevertheless, Penelope found she still wanted to hear the response.
“And I’m Penelope, by the way” It came a beat after her question, before it could be answered, and she held out her hand. “Sometimes I remember my manners.”
Engineering. Now would be the time to put some sort of clever escape plan into action before the other woman realized that the chances of that their paths might have crossed during college were slim. Then again, she could always point out the obvious reason that her face might be familiar to others. As she reminded herself of this, the needless inner panic faded.
Her eyes briefly followed Penelope’s to the ceiling before she started to answer the question. “Oh, I studied the arts,” she gave a dismissive hand wave, as if to say that college hadn’t been that interesting really. “I’m not doing much of anything currently, I guess you could say I’ve been taking a break from acting.” For a few years, at least.
The friendly megawatt smile was second nature, she held out a hand. “I’m Charlie, nice to meet you.”
Then it clicked. Yet it didn’t quite feel right. “Oh.” Oh, you’re the actress. Oh, you’re from the television show. Oh, Penelope was aware how … invasive it could feel when people “recognized” a celebrity - or, in her case, the child of one. Therefore, she returned Charlie’s grin - another one that felt so inclined to almost burst off her face - but hesitated, very briefly, before giving her a firm handshake. Slightly more firm than necessary to make up for that momentary pause. Because for a moment Penelope wondered if that Tale feeling was the Tale feeling. If that extra sense of familiarity was something more --- but she dismissed the thought even as her hopes skyrocketed. “It’s nice to meet you too!”
Her dad had always told her that a person couldn’t tell the difference. But maybe -- well, her dad had been wrong several times before. Especially about family.
Yet Penelope found her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth and she suddenly found herself overwhelmed with this very important prospect. As she continued to shake Charlie’s hand.
She let it go. “Sorry!”
“It’s fine,” Charlie withdrew her own hand as her eyes darted towards a movement somewhere behind Penelope. Charlie nodded in the direction of the woman approaching them. “I think your aunt might …”
Penelope looked behind her. Yes, her aunt very much did. “Just a minute” She stated apologetically as she turned back to Charlie with a small smile. “And I can ask her about the dress?” It didn’t hurt to ask.
“No. Don’t worry about it,” she’d accomplished what she’d come here to do. True, the conversation hadn’t gone according to plan but at least she’d met this woman. The Fairy with the Gift of Beauty. “I should go,” she added with an apologetic smile before turning and making her way out of the shop.