Who: Audrey and Thomas What: Driving to the first day of work, and hair dyeing trauma. Where: Aubade, then the car. When: Sometime in the last few days. Warnings: None.
The night before Audrey was supposed to show up at Thomas Inc. for her first day of work, she dyed her hair brown. She cried. She wouldn’t tell anyone that on pain of death, but she did. Having her hair whatever color she wanted it was part of her personality, part of what made her...her, really. Dying it back to brown felt like she was just making herself plain, becoming ordinary and unremarkable, bowing to conformity. She reminded herself that this wasn’t up to her - Thomas needed her help. It didn’t make her feel much better.
She arrived at Aubade the next morning to go with Thomas to work. She wasn’t willing to make complete concessions on her wardrobe, so the gray skirt had red argyle panels inside the pleats and was too short, and the sweater was tight and red. Her hair was pulled back in a short ponytail, like that might make it less brown, but she still carried the same bag as always - nothing could make her leave it behind.
In the hallway outside Aubade, Thomas was the epitome of modern acceptable business in a designer suit in rich charcoal gray. His blank eyes were very blue and mild, and utterly comfortable in this familiar space, he waited until Audrey was near enough for him to hear the familiar clunk of the bag against her leg. She looked strange--or rather, the blur looked strange--without the color, but he nodded approval. “I almost didn’t recognize you.” It was impossible to tell whether it was a compliment or not, and Thomas didn’t think to inquiry about the rest of her clothing, moving toward the elevators. He didn’t have anything in hand, no briefcase or paperwork, as his phone was in his jacket pocket and he didn’t have a need to carry anything else around with him.
Audrey just kept herself from reacting. She would have strongly preferred that he didn't mention it at all, because the idea that he almost didn't recognize her and he was blind had to mean she had become completely plain. She stayed close beside him, following him into the elevators. "So, what's the plan?"
“I need your perspective. Impressions on people and things. And... it will probably be deadly boring, but I need you to help me skim things to get to the important parts. Messages, contracts... problems with lawyers... that kind of thing. I’m also trying to avoid making it obvious that there’s something off with... me. Distraction, whatever we need to pretend it to be.” He swept a palm over the wall and stabbed at the down button with a finger.
Audrey nodded, watching him feel for the button. She looked back up at him. "I have to admit, I don't really get it," she said. "Why the big secret? Wouldn't it be easier to just tell everyone?"
“No. Business is very personal, regardless of what anyone tells you. They need to take me seriously, and if they think I’m vulnerable, I lose that. It’s important, Audrey.”
"I believe you," she said, climbing into the elevator with him. "I guess I just don't really get business." She waited for the elevator door to close before leaning against the wall opposite him. "So...how long do you plan on keeping this up?" That was the real question. She didn't know exactly what she'd signed up for, really, or for how long.
"It can't be that long. I'm hoping for at least another month. Two weeks, we'll be lucky for three." Meetings that required his personal presence had either been rescheduled or moved to conference calls. The office had been restricted to minimum trusted staff. "Correspondence is building up, and even with several hours listening to it, I'm not catching up."
“That’s what I’m here for,” she said. The doors opened, and she walked out, close at his side. “So...you’re going to have to help me out here. What sort of correspondence is it? I don’t think I really even fully understand what you do.”
Thomas leaned ever so slightly into her, moving as she did, using only the slightest contact on her elbow and otherwise looking straight and casual. It took more coordination than it looked like on the surface. "I'll give you some names but mostly I need you to read off the nouns and verbs in sentences to see what people are saying. I need... to get to where I need to be without obviously stumbling. The car is waiting."
"I can do that," she said. Then, "Not to harp on a point, or anything, but my hair hasn't been a natural color in about six years, so I'm absolutely expecting something drastic to happen. Like I'll literally turn into part of the wallpaper and find out I have powers of invisibility once we get there." She offered the driver a faint smile before climbing in, sliding all the way over.
The driver was a military man, and Audrey would recognize the shoulders and the buzz cut even though he was long out of the marines. He nodded slightly at her and watched Thomas closely to make sure he was in and able before closing the door and moving around to the driver’s side. “I have no doubt you might surprise yourself,” Thomas said, allowing her a slight smile.
“With my powers of invisibility,” she finished. She leaned her head against the window, watching him. “How are you doing?” Her tone softened with the question. She wondered if Max had told him about the pictures, what she’d said about them, and tried to put that particular worry out of her head as quickly as it had come.
“I meant,” Thomas said, politely, “that you don’t need color to be noticed positively.” He was looking straight ahead, eyes slightly closed so he could rest them. It was tiring to pretend to focus constantly, and he was doing his remaining vision no favors. He was hardly going to tell anyone that. “I’m... adjusting.” It was a shockingly honest answer.
She smiled faintly, which he couldn't see of course. It was more than that, but it was sweet of him to say, so she said, "Thanks." His answer made her focus in on him more sharply. "You're doing a pretty damn good job on that front, as far as I can tell," she offered. "A lot of people would have just lain down and taken it as an excuse to stop doing anything."
“I couldn’t do that.” He said it flat, without reaction, just unadorned truth. “I’ve never been able to do that. I can’t just... I can’t stop. Doing things.” He dropped his chin, ever so slightly. “In the current situation, with... I mean, Max and I, it’s almost a character failing.”
"How's that?" she asked. It was funny - she'd only known Thomas for a short while before he lost his sight, but it was easy to tell that he was more expressive now that he had. "I'd think it would help it, not hurt it."
“It distracts me from the things that should be more important.” He turned his face away from her, and it was clear he was uncomfortable, even ashamed. It was like he was admitting to be a drug addict.
"Can't you do both?" She glanced toward the driver, wondering if he was listening. He seemed too well-trained to listen, really. She didn't understand where that shame reaction came from, so she pushed for more. "You know, do things, work, and be with Max at the same time?"
“...No. Not this work.” His hands had curled at some time, hidden on his other side. “I can’t be at two places at once.” The only reason he’d even been able to sustain this part of his life, legal and illegal, was because his ability made it so he only needed a few hours of sleep every couple days.
She studied his face. "And you can't...pass some of the work on to someone else?" The suggestion was hesitant, but serious. "This is kind of an indelicate thing to say, but you're rich as sin. If you want to work on something productive, you could do something different that'll take less time. Run a charity, or something, and let someone else do the dirty work at the company. You'd have more time to spend with Max. It doesn't have to be this hard."
Thomas didn’t reply in words. He just shook his head slowly, claiming it impossible, and kept his face averted, as if she could not see it. No, he couldn’t stop anything he was doing. He had tried, and hadn’t even made it while he was in the hospital and practically immobile.
"Think about it," she said, quietly. "Some things are worth re-arranging your life for, you know?"
The car was slowing to a stop, then, and she glanced outside. She'd completely stopped paying attention to where they were going. "We're just about there."
Thomas glanced up, as if out of a trance. “Ah,” he said. “We didn’t stop at the fifth light after the turn.” As if this explained his surprise properly, he made a slight move toward the door as the driver stepped out to open it. “You’ll check in at security and then we will take this slowly. Alright?” He couldn’t see her expression.
"No problem," she said, determined to sound more sure about all of this than she felt. Her expression was a little more nervous than her voice. She had zero qualifications to do something like this, but she tried to reassure herself. She was a pretty damn good bluffer, and none of what Thomas had stipulated sounded too difficult. How bad could it possibly be?