Irene looked at the latest comment and smiled. Meeting the father - well, mother in reality, in this world at least - of science fiction for tea would be a wonderful way to spend the afternoon. She had been considering extending her time with this client, but Ms Wells won out. Replying to let Wells know that she would there within half an hour, she put her phone down and picked up a tiny key instead.
"So, my dear. We have established that you have been very, very naughty. But you're in luck today; I have a pressing appointment, which means I'll have to postpone the rest of your punishment until next week. I assume you will be available to attend, hmmm?"
She smirked, watching the man try to talk through the ball gag and inevitably failing horribly, instead simply nodding. "Good boy!" She patted him on the head in a condescending fashion and unlocked the shackles keeping him upright. "Now, get dressed, and get out. You don't want to raise my ire in advance of tomorrow by being slow, do you?" She ignored his mumbled agreement as he removed the gag, and exited the room. He'd leave quickly - they always did, the true devotees, when she ordered them to.
Within twenty minutes she had left her apartment and was almost at the cafe. She'd chosen a rather demure white dress to wear, and she stopped before entering to ensure it was straight. Although she wasn't admitting it to herself, she was mildly nervous about meeting Ms Wells. Irene might be a character in a novel, but Helena (if what she said was true, and considering the rest of the insanity in this world she doubted it wasn't) was one of the greatest innovators of her time. And Irene found herself caring about whether they got on, which was rare for her.
Walking into the building, she spotted H.G. immediately and smiled, joining her at the table. "Ms Wells - it is a genuine pleasure to meet you in the flesh." She extended a hand before she sat, courteous as always.