fandomtownies | Fourth Dimension (formerly York) Gallery, Saturday

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Fourth Dimension (formerly York) Gallery, Saturday

The sign over the York Gallery had been taken down, and Sophie was now putting up the new one:

Fourth Dimension Gallery: Fine Arts & Antiques

It made a nice change from taking boxes up to the second floor.

[open!]

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"Knock knock," Max called as he walked in the door without actually knocking.

"Max!" Sophie grinned down at him, barely balancing correctly on her step-ladder. "Could you be a magician and keep this up here? I dropped a nail."

"It's probably a better idea if I just hold it for you," he grinned as he stepped over to do just that.

"Excellent," Sophie said, hopping off the ladder with a wobble, and scrabbling to retrieve the nail that had fallen. "Think you could complete the job, as long as you're up there?" She smirked at the sign. "What do you think of the name?"

"Sure." Max held out out his hand for the nail and a hammer. "And I'm not the sort of person to ask about names, I suspect. I mean, it looks good to me, but..."

"There's a quote, about art being a shock, something to push you into the fourth dimension," Sophie said, handing over the tools. "I rather liked it. Devereaux Gallery doesn't really stand out." And she really didn't need a neon sign advertising where she was. "Not to mention how strange this place is with time travel."

"In that case I have to say it seems most appropriate." He positioned the nail and glance down at Sophie. "Is this where you want it?"

"Mmm-hmmmm," Sophie said, smiling and standing back to admire him at work.

Max took a half second to pose, letting his stance show off his shoulders. Then with two quick strikes he drove the nail into place. "Still look good?"

"Splendid, even," Sophie teased him, then nodded. "Thank you, I appreciate that." She sighed and looked around. "Lord, I hate moving. Still. The new exhibit will be arriving tomorrow, they can hang things while I supervise then."

"Moving is so much work." Which was agreement. Max tried to avoid that sort of thing.

Sophie laughed at him internally, then asked, "So. Would you like the tour?" She pointed to the left. "North gallery." Right. "South gallery." Stairs. "My place."

"Efficient and thorough," Max laughed. "You're a woman of so many talents."

"The secret to success," Sophie said, throwing him a look over her shoulder as she headed to the stairs. "You really must see the view from up here."

Max made no attempt to hide the fact that he was totally checking her out as he followed her. "Considering the view from here, I can only imagine..."

Steve paused in his run, looked at the sign, and grinned at Sophie. "Career change, huh?"

"Yes," Sophie said with great satisfaction, stepping down from the small ladder. "Teaching was all very well for the summer. But I simply couldn't pass up the chance when Charlotte told me she was leaving."

"It's not for everyone," Steve agreed. "I'm not sure who I'm supposed to dispense advice to now, though," he added with a grin.

"The next green and confused and slightly shell-shocked new teacher to step onto the Island?" Sophie teased lightly. "You can bring them to my gallery, and give them iced tea, and then tell them about gremlins-- and I'll tell them I've never seen one yet."

"Count yourself lucky," Steve told her, unfondly remembering his own gremlin experience. "And knock on wood when you say that."

Sophie rapped her knuckles on the door-frame with a grin. "What happened when it was your turn?" she asked. "And what do you think of the name? I didn't think the Devereaux Gallery was enough of a change."

Steve studied the sign for a moment, then took the best guess he could, given his background. "Time?"

"Yes. Since this island seems to be rife with changes to it. And, a quote by Marc Chagall, about trying for a 'psychic shock.'" She tilted her head. "It would be too much to hope that all the exhibits here have that, but it's something to aspire to."

Steve grinned. "I'm sure you'll do your best. I like it."

He still hadn't answered that question about the gremlin.

He really hadn't.

So Sophie switched to another topic. "Did Mr. Stark like the photos we took?" And a smile. "And how would you like some lemonade before you complete your run?"

Steve blushed a little. "I really couldn't say, you know, I haven't spoken to him since I sent them. He's probably still making out with his lab. And I'd love some lemonade, thank you."

"Making out with his lab? What on earth does that mean?" Sophie wondered, going over to the sideboard and pouring him a tall glass of lemonade from where she'd left it. Handing it over, she said, "You could always call him."

"I might have to go down there and drag him out sooner or later," Steve said. "But, he was without modern technology for a while. Fandom time weirdness. And," he shrugged. "He's Tony Stark. So--oh! He's not actually making out with his lab!" he hurried to assure her when he realized he might've been taken literally. "Probably." He took the lemonade and added a, "Thank you."

"It's rather disturbing that it needs clarification here," Sophie said reflectively, "But I'm very glad you did so. Boys turning into girls, minds being kidnapped to another dimension; making out with his laboratory would only seem to be a matter of how many steps it would take." She shook her head, leaning against her doorframe. "And yet I'm voluntarily staying. I must be mad."

Give him time, Steve was sure he would figure it out. If he hadn't that weekend everybody's stuff turned human. "You're not mad," he told Sophie. "You just want to see what happens next."

"Oh, a hit, a palpable hit!" Sophie had to laugh. "I do believe you're right." She thought of Parker and Geoffrey, Max and the play. "Even if I weren't growing fond of some parts of it, for the rest-- if there was an invasion of fireflies or a volcano erupted, I'd hate to only hear about it later."

"You should knock on wood again," Steve said. "Or when the volcano blows I'm blaming you."

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Fourth Dimension (formerly York) Gallery, Saturday

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