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Harry Dresden (dresdensluck) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2013-05-18 11:51:00

Do you have five cents? Give it to me. Trust me.
Who: Harry and Mary
Where: The beach
What: Harry acts as lawyer, but mostly as listener; Mary tells him her secret
When: Recently
Warnings/Rating: PG-13 for mentions of sex and npc death
Status complete


Since Mary didn’t work at her internship every day, she had more than ample time for the beach, which was still the only thing about California that didn’t bore her. Unfortunately, since her sister was still in school, she usually went alone. Most of the time, she didn’t mind it. She didn’t like the idea of building a social group in a place she was only supposed to be briefly visiting. Soon she’d go home and things would go back to normal...

But would they? Beneath Mary’s sunglasses, there were bags under her eyes. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d gotten a restful night’s sleep. Every night, it was the same dream: a few minutes of pleasure traded for a lifetime of regret. Wasn’t it bad enough she was living this nightmare on a daily basis? Did she have to actually dream about it, too?

She brought gossip magazines to the beach and read about other people’s problems, trying to forget her own. But the pages in her hands were spotted with her tears.

Harry was a man who operated on instinct a lot of the time. As a lawyer, a private investigator, and a wizard, he relied on that a great deal, and it served him well. Today, however, it led him to a crying woman. He couldn’t help but notice one, if one was around. He had always had a weak spot for damsels in distress and today was no difference.

Walking down the beach, he stopped at the beach area where she sat and read, and cried and sat on the lounge chair next to her. And he handed over tissues.

Mary came from a world where people tried to stay out of one another’s problems, the world of English high society. So it made her very uncomfortable when the stranger, whom she assumed was an American, sat down beside her and, she felt, invaded her privacy. For a few seconds, she pretended not to see him. At length, she did take the tissues, but there was ice in her voice when she spoke. “Did you walk down the beach with these, hoping to find a crying girl?””

Harry didn’t hesitate to answer, his voice matter of fact, and a little gentle. “Nope. My girlfriend, though, tells me that I should always help someone in need. And my daughter, well, looking at her... I’ll never walk past someone who is crying. I couldn’t face her again, if I did so.”

Mary looked at him quizzically. She patted her eyes with the tissue and swallowed. In her heart, she believed him, but did that matter? Her heart had rarely steered her right before. "Thank you, I'm sure you mean well, but..." She choked. "God, I wouldn't know where to begin.”

“Then don’t. Just rest, and use the tissues. If you feel like talking, you can, but you don’t have to. I’ll sit here like a tall silent tree and just be young buck retardant.” He nodded, grinning slightly, and yet his eyes held his wish he could help.

In spite of what she said and the heaviness in her chest, Mary let out a brief laugh. It was choked and meager, but genuine nonetheless. She sniffled and wiped the bottom of her nose. “Yes well...” But the comment had no real ending. Mary took a breath and shook her head, unable to deny the loneliness she felt, nor the safety of confiding in a stranger.

“How old is your daughter?” she asked, to keep the conversation going, just in case.

Harry was glad to see and hear that laugh. “She is a very precocious eight, almost nine, and she has me rather firmly wrapped around her finger.” He had no problem admitting it. Cora was the apple of his eyes. She had smarts and strength, and he saw that she would be pretty already.

Mary’s smile lingered a little longer than before, though her eyes continued to glisten. “Well, I’m glad you’ll be able to face her tonight,” she said, referring to what the man had said before. She swallowed again, trying to keep her throat clear of tears. “My name is Mary, by the way.”

Harry smiled at her, then nodded. “She likes helping people, too, already.” He was very proud of Cora. At her naming herself, he smiled.

“I’m called Harry Dresden. Pleased to meet you, Mary.” And he offered her his hand.

Mary took his hand, but her grip was rather weak. She was more the sort of greet someone with a feminine nod or embrace. Pulling back, her dabbed her eyes again. “I feel like I should be apologizing for being so emotional,” he said. “Where I come from, we keep a stiff upper lift. I suppose you can understand that. I’ve only been in America for a few months.”

He gently squeezed her hand and eyed her, smiling softly. “Why? Something has you hurting. Don’t be sorry for what you feel, Mary. Be true to yourself. I can understand wanting to keep it in and controlled, but I’ve learned that this leads to people hurting more, in time.” He shook his head.

She laughed again, but this time is was a much more sickly sound. “Yes, well, in my case if the truth got out, it would be a scandal.” The light in her eyes changed suddenly. Some of the things her mother had warned her about, before shipping her off, had made her quite paranoid. Just because a man cared about his daughter, it didn’t mean he wasn’t also a member of the press.

Harry could feel her closing up and sighed, then hmmed. “Then the truth won't get out. Not from me.” Harry eyed her, then nodded. “Do you have five cents? Give it to me. Trust me.”

“A nickel?” Mary asked. But even though she was confused, she fished out out of her beach bag. There was a man’s face on it she didn’t know. Some former American president. She handed it to him.

Harry took it and nodded. “There, accepted. Now I’m on retainer. Harry Dresden, Lawyer and private investigator, on your nickel.” He nodded.

Mary blinked. Another choked giggle escaped, again in spite of herself. She touched her forehead and sighed. “Oh, I did something very foolish back home. I... let my desires get the better of me.”

He nodded slowly, adjusting his thinking. She must come from rich money, or fame. “At all, or with someone who you weren’t supposed to be around?”

“A diplomat,” Mary said. There was an ache building up in her forehead. She hadn’t spoken about the incident to anyone aside from her mother. “He was staying in our home. And he was beautiful and... so unlike anyone I had ever met before... so alive. But... how was I or anyone supposed to know he had a heart condition?”

Harry nodded, listening, and felt compassion for her. Then he facepalmed. Of course. “And he died?” He paused and said it. “During?”

Her face twisted in pain and embarrassment. She covered her mouth and nodded, as her tears flowed fresh. But she couldn't manage to speak.

Harry hesitated, then he gently hugged her, slightly, so she could break away of she wanted, but letting her know she could just cry if she wanted. “Let it out, Mary. I won’t let anyone else see,” And he was big enough to enfold her and let her cry inside those arms.

Mary didn’t hug back. By now, it must have been very apparent that the way this man was behaving was so unfamiliar to her, that she didn’t know what to do. She let him hold her because she felt helpless and frozen. She was dazed.

He moved back then and smiled sadly. “I’m sorry. I wish there was something I could do to help you, miss.” He rubbed his nose and shook his head. “Just remember that what happened was not your fault, and that likely, you gave him the send off he would have wanted, if he could choose it. Compassion, warmth, a kind of love, even if only the physical sort. There is no shame in what you did.”

“Thank you,” she finally spoke, “But I’m afraid the story doesn’t end there. When a diplomat dies in your bed, there’s going to be a scandal no matter what. So... my mother decided it would be best to make sure he wasn’t in my bed, come the morning.”

“Oh, Ohhhh. I see. Where did she put him?” Wow, was that an indelicate move or what? He could see why someone would do it, even if he never would. Well, no, he would if he had to protect someone, but not to avoid scandal.

“We carried him back to his room.” With a shrug, Mary sounded almost matter-of-fact. That night was such a blur, but she could remember crying profusely and her mother trying her best to sound kind when she told her to be quiet. “We cleaned everything up. No examiners looked further than the heart attack... And then my mother sent me here to live with my aunt for the year.”

Harry nodded. “It has to have been quite a shock, having that happen. And being sent here, with no one to tell, no one to talk to about it, just knowing what happened and how you felt. I’m sorry, Mary.”

He wished he knew how to help her deal with it.

Mary felt the need to wipe her eyes again. She nodded, grateful that the man had gently forced it out of her. “This is the first time I’ve talked about it since it happened,” she said, clearing her throat and trying to put herself back together. She wasn’t sure if she felt relieved, but she didn’t feel as horrid as she had a few moments ago. The difference was still very slight, but just enough to notice.

“I’m sorry for that. My advice is to find someone you can trust and talk to them, and just enjoy not having to hold it in. We all need confidants, and we all need those we can just be ourselves around. No pretenses. Sometimes, it’s hard to be who we make ourselves into. We all need a time to rest.”

Harry spoke softly, but passionately, to her. ANd he hoped, if a daughter or son of his ever needed someone to talk to them, there would be someone there, like this.

"I've been trying to work up the nerve to tell my sister. She's here, too. Just to keep me company, really."

“I hope, soon, you will be able to. It’s a terrible thing not to be able to talk to your siblings.” He had never been able to talk to his parents, but his brother? That was going much better. He trusted and liked THomas.

She nodded. “It’s just that she’s so young, still in high school. She seems so smart and capable that sometimes I forget that she’s really only a child. But I should. I should tell her.”

“I think, if you tell her like you told me, and if you explain everything carefully, she will understand. You put it well, and anyone intelligent is going to know you did nothing wrong.” Unwise maybe, but not wrong, and who doesn’t do something unwise, now and then? Harry had done his share, that was for sure!

Mary quietly looked out to the ocean, while the tears in her eyes at last settled. She wasn’t so sure she believed him about not doing anything wrong. Doing something so foolish felt like the same thing.

“Thank you,” she said. “For forcing me to talk.”

“You’re welcome. Sometimes, we all need a helping nudge. And I was here anyway. I’ve needed help myself a time or two. It doesn’t hurt to pass it on.” Harry smiled to her. “Don’t beat yourself up too badly. Sometimes we’re just in the wrong place at the wrong time. I hope things will get better for you. And if not, here is my card.” He held it out to her. “I am, after all, on retainer.” His grin was warm.

Mary took the card and looked it over, pleased to see that the man's story checked out. At least, the name on the card matched. She smiled in spite of herself. "Yes, I paid a good American nickel for you."

Harry rose, then and tipped an imaginary hat to her. “Call me, if you need to talk. Or come by the office. I’m always open for those who need help.” With a nod to her, he smiled. “I’ll let you be, now, but I’ll be thinking good thoughts for you.”

He turned with that, and started off, whistling a tune under his breath as he went.

~fin~