" [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]

"Lovely," says Susan, with considerable warmth. She takes another sip of her tea. "I believe that leaves us agreed that we shan't invite Apollo to feature in the calendar, save as a last resort?"

[sagramore]

"Absolutely not. We're in accord."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Right. They've reached a point where Susan doesn't trust her flimsy memory to retain all their decisions. She leans over to retrieve her notebook and pen from her satchel and starts noting down their decisions -- who to include, that sort of thing.

"It shan't be difficult to make the calendar pages themselves," she says, contemplative, tapping the tip of her pen against the page after she's jotted down NOT Apollo. "I can get those made rather quickly. The difficulty, beyond securing agreements, shall be in photograph layout... perhaps Janet has got a spell to assist." And possibly make copies? That mightn't be out of order. "But I suppose we needn't worry about that yet."

[sagramore]

"Right. The first order of business is making my rounds, which I'll get started with immediately, and perhaps you should talk with Janet and find out what she needs, just in case."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Yes, of course." Susan hesitates. "I shall broach the subject with Lancelot, though I imagine he'd benefit from you speaking with him as well. Is there anyone else you'd rather I speak to?"

[sagramore]

"No, no, I can manage everyone else."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Lovely." Susan knocks back the rest of her tea, then gives Sagramore a disproportionately intent look. "Thank you."

[sagramore]

Well, that's an alarming look, but Sagramore just smiles. "Thank you. I'm glad to be working together."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan nods once, firmly, as much to herself as it is to what he's just said. "I was - rather wrong about you, as it turns out," she says; it does come out sounding businesslike in that way she gets when she really means something.

Likely it shan't be a surprise to him, but it does seem the sort of thing she ought to acknowledge. Ever so much has changed since the day she met Szarka and they decided to start from scratch; it seem perhaps a good deal has changed, too, since their first summit meeting. Encountering those alternate versions of him has been rather - 'transformational' feels like rather a big claim, but they did provide somewhat of a nudge. She finds herself, in this moment, considerably less certain that he dislikes her, and while that - as ever - doesn't hold weight in her own regard for him, she finds, to her own mild surprise, that she's pleased at the prospect just the same.

"I'm glad to have had the opportunity to recalibrate," she adds, with a pleasant little smile that goes miles towards mitigating the intensity of her penetrating gaze. "And I'm terribly grateful for your help with this project. I believe it shall yield... tremendous results."

[sagramore]

"Oh!" caught wholly off-guard; he had more or less given up on anything but a certain level of discomfort around Susan, an expectation that they would never be quite on the same page, and he'd been trying to acclimatize himself to it, to be at peace with the idea of not everyone liking him. He certainly hadn't expected something akin to an apology.

He brushes his surprise aside and smiles at her. "It's my pleasure, truly. I suspect the results will be...quite substantial, as you say."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Her lips quirk, and she huffs out a laugh. "One does hope so," she says. "Right. I shall start to sort out a studio space, a camera for the photographs and the calendar itself, and speak to Lancelot and Janet. Perhaps we ought to touch base after you've got the opportunity to have some of these conversations so we can determine a schedule, appropriate props, that sort of thing?"

[sagramore]

"Yes, that's very sensible. Ah-- a few weeks?"

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"Lovely," says Susan. She makes a few more notes about their decision, then closes her notebook. Perhaps they've turned a corner - she certainly has - but she shouldn't want to overstay her welcome, and she suspects she's taken up enough of his day. "Pleasure doing business with you, Sagramore. I do hope you enjoy your coffee and-" she will absolutely not be attempting the pronunciation of a Hungarian dish without hearing it said first "-the rolls."

[sagramore]

"Thank you," he says, warmly. "I'm looking forward to all of it."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

"I shan't keep you from your day any longer," she says, rising from her seat, and indeed, she can hear voices starting to draw closer - she can't make out words, they're not close enough, but she can detect Sunny's excited babble, Laertes's low murmur, the deeply annoying tones of Magnus likely bragging about something or another. "I do thank you for the tea, and for hearing me out."

[sagramore]

"Of course. Until next time."