fandomtownies | The Perk, Tuesday Afternoon

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The Perk, Tuesday Afternoon

A feeling Marc was going to chalk up to restlessness had him doing a walk around the island with no particular goal in mind other than to walk around the island.

Once the path brought him by the Perk, he figured what the hell. Grab a coffee and maybe a box of something to leave in the boarding house kitchen for whoever wanted anything.

Marc wasn't examining that instinct too closely either.

(Obviously he would get something for Watts and Steven too. That part went without saying.)

He was in no rush, though, so he grabbed a coffee and a muffin for himself and took a seat at a table by the windows. Then, long as he was taking a load off, he got out his phone to text Crawley to see how things were back home.

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Henry was in something resembling a good mood. Sure, the arts and crafts in class today hadn't really been her kind of art, but it was still creating something.

So Marc got a nod and maybe even a hint of a smile as she went up to the counter to order her drink.

"Hey," Marc said. He gestured towards the currently untouched box of ~~moddable~~ baked goods on the table beside him. "Got this for everybody back at Midnight. Can call dibs on shit now if you want."

Which he figured was a discreet way of saying she could save some money on food if she'd been planning on buying any. And needed to save money. He wasn't gonna pry.

It was probably best not to ask how she was able to afford things like new art supplies. Or clothes. Or... any of that.

So yeah, she appreciated that Marc did not pry.

"Sweet," she said, not needing more of an invitation to go poking through the box. "Oooh, cruller."

It wasn't like Marc was gonna judge. He might want to find a way to give her some cash if he could do it without making a thing about it, but that was neither here nor there. Especially since that sounded suspiciously like the actions of someone who gave a shit about people.

Or at least some people. His people.

Look, progress was progress.

Marc gestured for her to take a seat if she wanted. If that meant she could easily help herself to more from the box, surely that was coincidence. "How's it going?"

Henry didn't need more of an invitation than that, flopping down in to the offered seat with all the grace of... something that wasn't all that graceful.

A small cloud of glitter puffed up as she sat down and she grimaced, waving a hand in an attempt to clear the air.

Marc noticed the glitter.

"...why?" he asked. Perhaps pointlessly, considering the island they lived on.

"Art project," Henry offered. "For class."

Had she, personally, made use of any glitter? No. Did that stop it from creeping in to her project, and thus getting stuck on her clothes, anyway? Also no.

"We don't have enough on this island?" Marc asked.

Not blaming her. More the concept of glitter.

"Art?" Henry said, maybe deliberately misinterpreting around a mouthful of cruller. "Could always use more art."

"Glitter," Marc said, giving her a look like she knew very well what he'd meant. "Art I don't give a shit about."

In the parlance of Marc that meant he didn't mind it, not that he didn't care about it.

"Do I look like I know anything about how this fucking place works?" Henry asked pointedly.

"You're a teenager, you're supposed to know everything," Marc told her.

Ever the wise ass.

That did not get a verbal response, but it did get a massive eyeroll as Henry reached for a muffin now that she'd polished off that cruller.

"It wasn't that long ago," Marc said. "I remember some things."

He wasn't serious. Marc was aware that once you hit 40 you might as well be a thousand to someone around Henry's age.

Please, Henry was a very adult eight- nineteen.

"Be nice if I did," she said. "Know everything. Make a bunch of shit easier for sure."

"Ignorance isn't bliss?" Marc asked. He had his own opinions there but was leaving it open ended for whatever she might wanna say about it.

"Not when you're stuck between a rock and a hard place, no," Henry said. "Metaphorically speaking."

"Something happen?" Marc asked. Not pushing, just putting the question out there.

"Nah," Henry shrugged. And it was true to a point, as nothing had happened recently anyway. "Just, you know. Thinking out loud."

"Anybody in particular holding out on you or is it life in general?" Marc asked. Again not pushing, just giving her the floor if she wanted.

"Life," Henry said, picking at the muffin she'd taken.

"Harder to hit life," Marc said. With sympathy, because hey: been there.

Was there. Constantly.

Anyway...

"Anything I can help with?" he asked. Figured couldn't hurt to check.

"Depends." She gave him a wry look. "Can you do time travel?"

"Left my time machine in my other pants," Marc said. The comment was dry enough that he followed it up with a drink of his coffee. "Why? Going forward or back?"

"Back," Henry said decisively.

"Before you made a mistake or someone else did?" Marc asked.

Henry's gaze dropped down to the table as she thought about Marc's question.

If she'd just never gotten into Clay Boone's stupid fucking truck...

"Me."

"Those suck," Marc said, with sympathy. "Nobody to be angry at except yourself. I hate that."

"Yeah," Henry slumped down into her chair. "Sorry to be such a fucking downer," she grumbled.

"You're talking to me, not Steven," Marc pointed out. "And even if you were talking to him he'd understand. He keeps the happy for most people."

Restlessness was a good reason to be walking and ending up with coffee. Or a good excuse, at least.

Stark just liked fancy sugary coffees. He did not need an excuse.

"Hello, Marc."

"Stark," Marc replied. He indicated a free chair at his table if Stark wanted to join him. "How's it going?"

"Going all right," Stark said once he'd gotten his gingerbread flavored coffee with truly impressive amounts of whipped cream.

"And you?"

"Can't complain," Marc said. He indicated his phone. "Some kids Watts and I helped are still out of trouble. I'll take it."

"Kids here?" Stark asked. "Or from when you were all on your trip?"

"Back in London," Marc said. "I've got some - "

Friends wasn't the word. This was Marc.

"Associates there."

Stark tilted his head a little at that then nodded.

"And they needed help. So you helped while you were there. Good trip then?"

"Watts did too." Marc wasn't going to get into all the details about the whys and hows of it all. Since that involved, yanno, talking. But Marc did want to make sure he wasn't claiming all the credit for himself.

"Everyone's fine now," Marc said. Because what more information was needed? People had not been fine and now they were. The end.

Marc looked Stark over. "You doing ok?"

"I'm fine," Stark said. "Really fine not just fine because that's what you say when people ask how you are. Nothing terrible happening. Nothing wonderful either. Just...things happening as usual, for here."

"That's good for you though, right?" Marc said. "Not dying or kidnapped by beavers or something?"

It was raccoons, Marc, come on now.

"I was only executed the one time," Stark said. "I dont make a habit of dying. And no beavers. I don't know that I've ever met one and the raccoons have been very quiet..."

Hmmm. Probably that thought should not have been voiced. Too late now!

"I've only done it like twice," Marc said.

Then had to amend, "That I remember."

Because personal death counts was so the point here.

Fandom had extremely skewed deaths per capita statistics.

"Hopefully no more than that," Stark said. "But now you have me wondering if I ought to be wary of beavers."

"I'm not gonna tell you what you should be into in your free time," Marc told him.

Hey: none of his business. Provided Stark wasn't getting hurt of course.

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The Perk, Tuesday Afternoon

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