" [closed post]

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan prevaricates for several days about whether to approach Sagramore. She's a little lost with respect to her feelings about him, particularly after the one-two punch of being charmed by his teenaged self and then having her own eight-year-old self being so thoroughly taken by him. (And isn't that queer, to remember it after the fact? She'd been so convinced he wouldn't remember their encounter in the kitchen, but... what if, like her, he has?)

Sagramore is a good man, which she's known for a while now. He doesn't like her, which is fine, because while she hasn't disliked him for months, she hasn't exactly given him reason to change his mind about her outside of a few awkward conversations. She thinks, perhaps, that there might be a world in which they get along. It isn't this one, clearly, but - the possibility is there, in some alternate dimension; perhaps one day the mansion's nonsense will bring it to bear for a few short hours and in its aftermath they will be none the wiser.

Regardless, she finds that she likes that they've got a truce, and not just because they've got people in common. He's an asset to the community, and Susan likes to keep close inventory of assets.

It's a hot day, and the queerness of the month is in full effect. Perhaps that's why Susan decides, in the midst of a fit of research, that Sagramore - who is ever so well-connected - might make a good co-conspirator for her newest project. (It is also - though Susan doesn't realize it - exactly one Earth-year since their ill-advised assignation. In truth, she's placed that encounter almost fully out of her mind, and while she does make a close study of her days here, she's merely noticed that she's known Lancelot for a year now, and refrained from considering the rest.)

And so she prepares her bribes offerings. She makes coffee the way Sagramore's teenage self taught her: with the grounds and the spices and the sugar and the water, boiled three times and decanted into a thermos. (She's also made tea for herself. She knows better than to pretend she's going to try the coffee again.) The thermos itself is a gift; it's a kitschy little affair that reads If found, return to Dad, and part of a number of queerly-labeled items that she's found populating her parlor (which is now attached to her room by a door next to her closet) since Rainbows began. While savory bakes aren't her forte in the same way sweet ones are, she also prepares hagymás tekercs, with the hopes that they're to his taste. Once she's got everything - coffee, tea, and rolls - packaged up, she places them carefully away in a satchel along with her notebook, a pen, and several samples of the focus of her true agenda. This time she hasn't got a list of conversational topics. She rather thinks she shan't need one.

To her relief, as she makes her way to his cottage, she sees that Sunny is off playing in Crowley's automobile, and Laertes is walking along the forest's edge with Magnus, seemingly deep in conversation. While it wouldn't matter if either were home, their absence shall make this discussion easier.

As before, she squares her shoulders. Then she knocks firmly on the door.

Comments

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan has got her thermos in her satchel, but perhaps she ought to allow his hospitality. "If it shan't be too much trouble, it's always weather for tea," she says, in tones of faintest self-deprecation. "And I've got - here." She withdraws the container of coffee and the packet of rolls and offers them to him.

[sagramore]

"Of course. --Is that coffee?" He dries his hands on his apron and ushers her into the kitchen, taking the thermos and rolls as he does. "That's very kind of you."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"It is. I do hope I got it right, I've-" a fleetingly wry expression- "only just learned how."

[sagramore]

"Oh! From when I was--?"

[quote_gentle_unquote]

So either he does also remember, or someone has told him. "Yes, from your teenaged self."

[sagramore]

Damn. He remembers putting a great deal of sugar in that coffee. "I do think you'd have made a better seneschal than Kay," he says, lightly.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"I should hope so! Kay sounded dreadful."

[sagramore]

Sagramore shrugs and puts the thermos down on the counter. "I was probably fairly dreadful too. He did get me out of a quarrel once."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"I assume that would have happened a little later, then?"

[sagramore]

"About twenty years later, yes."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Ah. So just a little while, then."

[sagramore]

"The mere blink of an eye." He's making the tea Turkish-style again, because that's the sort of teapot they have.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan is watching curiously! "I trust you've been well, nonsense aside?"

[sagramore]

"We have been." He nods at the picture Sunny drew, tacked to a cabinet. "We know Sunny survives at least to seven years old."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

She refrains from asking if that was ever in question. "That must be rather reassuring to have sorted clearly out."

[sagramore]

He laughs. "It is reassuring. She turns out so well."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Oh, how lovely," says Susan. "I'm afraid I didn't meet her, though I believe I must have met every other person who changed. I'm not surprised, though, of course; you seemed marvelously good with children."

[sagramore]

At that, he looks surprised, and genuinely touched. "Do you think so? I'm very fond of them, of course, but--"

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Sunny is a fine girl, and you did quite well with me, as well. I assume those aren't unique cases."

[sagramore]

"Thank you." He hesitates -- he's not sure whether this will seem condescending or impertinent. "I thought you were terribly charming."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Both of the other versions of Sagramore Susan has met seemed to be fairly forthright, so since she's been using them to understand him better already, she chooses to take this at face value, and laughs. "I believe you might be the first to think that," she says, unbothered.

[sagramore]

Sagramore laughs. "I like imperious children."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"In that case, you're welcome," Susan says, amusement still written over her generally-muted face. "I told Crowley he ought to find the chore chart and contribute more."

[sagramore]

"And he should!" with a bark of laughter.

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"I do wonder if he's still looking for one. I ought to put him out of his misery," Susan says, and purses her lips. "Though I suppose I also might craft a fake chore chart, just to see if he starts following it... no," shaking her head. "I oughtn't."