fandomtownies | The Park, Saturday afternoon

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The Park, Saturday afternoon

Ichabod sat down on a bench by the pond, already exhausted from guiding his father around Fandom. Celia must have done a brilliant job of creating illusions for the older mr Crane, as he so far hadn't paid much attention to being in the wrong century. Now they faced the ultimate test, however, which was meeting with Celia and her father (and Ichabod has promised himself not to make things worse for Celia by saying what he truly felt to him).

"Please, father, have a seat. They will be here shortly."

[Ichabod and his father are here for Celia and Hector, but the park is open for your park needs. If you want to say hello that will happen before Celia shows up. Also, Mr Crane the older isn't seeing what is truly there, as Celia is creating illusions for him so as to not freak him out.]

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Celia, who was once again dressed in one of her better gowns and feeling nervous, was leading her father into the park with her arm looped through his.

"What are you making me do?" Hector asked, irritably.

"I want you to meet my friend, Papa," Celia said, patiently. As nervous as she was about this, she was also incredibly practiced at this.

Ichabod didn't know whether to feel relieved or more worried when Celia arrived with her father. He rose from the bench and approached them, his father following him. Ichabod was guessing the expression on his face wasn't entirely pleased, as he up until now hadn't mentioned that the friend they were about to meet was a young lady.

"Celia," he said, giving her a warm smile, then adding: "Mr Bowen, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

He didn't sound as if it was a pleasure.

"Ichabod?" Mr Crane said, frowning. Why was his son addressing a pretty young lady with her first name? Probably not for any reason he would approva of.

"Celia?" prompted Hector, eyeing the boy who had used his daughter's first name so freely.

He had a feeling as to why. She was wasting her time here, he'd known it.

But there was no need to be rude in front of these strangers. He would deal with his daughter, later. "It's a pleasure," he retuned with a charming smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"You must be Mr. Crane," Celia said with a shy smile, ignoring her own father for the moment. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, sir. Your son has told me so much about you."

There was no way this could end well.

Disapproving of his son's activities didn't mean forgoing manners. Mr Crane inclined his head slightly.

"The pleasure is mine, Miss...?"

If that last question was a little pointed, who could blame him?

No, there was no way this would end well. Ichabod nervously fidgeted with his fingers behind his back, gaze moving between Celia, her father and his own.

"Bowen," Celia supplied, her smile staying firmly in place. "Celia Bowen. And this is my father, Hector."

She turned to look at her father, adding, "Ichabod and his father are from Oxford, Papa."

"I traveled here from London, myself," Hector contributed, his tone bright enough even as he cautiously eyed the two men before them. He didn't like either of them, instinctively, and particularly didn't enjoy the implications evident between his daughter and this clearly non-gifted boy. "Oxford's beautiful country, though. Bit dull for me, but pretty enough. We prefer cities, my little Celia and I."

She was going to hear about this for quite some time, yes.

"Miss Bowen, Mr Bowen. Yes, I am a professor at Merton College. Ichabod is here to prepare for entering university himself."

Just to make clear that there was no way his son would be allowed to indulge in fantasies about alliances with pretty young girls he'd just met.

Ichabod, feeling he should add something to the conversation, but unsure about what, since what came to mind would be insulting to Hector Bowen, said:

"Celia is also here to improve her education, father."

"Celia," Hector interjected, a little sharply, "is here to learn the skills she will need to follow in her father's footsteps as well. She has quite the career ahead of her. Very little room for distractions."

Celia, for her part, was giving Ichabod a look that she felt would communicate how terrible an idea this had been, even if telepathy wasn't one of her gifts.

At least the two fathers could agree on one thing: that neither Ichabod nor Celia had time for whatever friendship they had going on.

"So, both are children are busy learning for the future, and yet we are all here today."

"Father, I assure you my friendship with Celia does not interfere with my studies in any way. In fact, we often share conversations on..."

His father just waved a hand. "Ichabod, please, none of this." He looked at Celia. "No offence, Miss Bowen, you seem to be an accomplished young lady. But if my son has made any promises I assure you they are not his to make."

Celia raised one dark brow -- considering that she had been using her accomplishments to keep him from seeing things right in front of his face, she wasn't exactly thrilled with being dismissed quite so quickly.

"You don't know anything about me," she said quietly, but firmly. "You don't know whether I'm accomplished or not. But thank you for speaking for Ichabod and clearing up that up for me."

Edited 2014-09-27 23:34 (UTC)

"Celia," Hector snapped, actually seizing her sharply by the arm as he turned to address the other two men. "I apologize," he said, his voice soft and silky, "for my daughter. Her tongue gets ahead of her manners, from time to time. We'll have to work on that, won't we?"

His grip tightened on her arm, and Celia winced, almost imperceptibly.

Mr Crane decided not to answer the impertinent young lady, and gave a nod in response to her father. "It seems that we agree that our children have better things to concentrate on than friendships."

Ichabod stared at Hector Bowen, the expression on his face hiding nothing of what he felt about how the man treated his daughter.

"Clearly this was a mistake," he snapped.

"Clearly," Hector agreed, though he didn't much like agreeing with this young man who both obviously knew his daughter intimately, and who was glaring daggers at him in such a way that made him wonder what Celia had told him.

He turned his attention to the elder Mr. Crane, adding, "It was a pleasure to meet you and your son, sir. I apologize that the circumstances weren't what either of us thought."

His grip on Celia's arm was iron, still, lest she decide to add anything else. She very well knew the consequences that awaited her already, for being impertinent -- not to mention wasting her time with boys.

"It was wonderful to meet you," Celia said, softly, to Ichabod's father, tucking one foot behind the other to dip a slight curtsy. She wasn't apologizing -- she wouldn't, because it wouldn't make a damn difference, anyway, this whole thing had been doomed from the start -- but she could be polite and stand her ground.

She flicked her gaze to Ichabod, trying to control her features enough that she wouldn't get him in any more trouble than she already had, even though the way his father had so summarily dismissed her hurt more than her own father's grip on her arm. "And I'll...see you in class on Monday, Ichabod."

She wasn't going to apologize for using his given name, either.

"I will see you then," Ichabod replied, feeling awkward and angry at the same time. a glance at his father gave away that he would most likely get a lecture about priorities in life once Celia and Hector had left.

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The Park, Saturday afternoon

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