Poppy (to Winchester): Thank you very much for the information, Chess. Do you think you can get this to my husband in West Piedmont? I'll make it worth your while.
Winchester (to Poppy): Dear Miss Poppy, you know your money is no good here. I'll deliver the message myself. Besides, I've heard so much about your husband that I just have to meet him.
Poppy (to Winchester): Honey, I would give good money just to see what happens when you two meet, but alas, I have work to do here. Thank you again.
Winchester (to Poppy): You are very welcome. Give my regards to the rest of your merry rebels.
In the kitchen, at Renfield's, West Piedmont:
River (to Nathaniel): The prodigal son returns! How you feeling?
Nathaniel (to River): Prodigal son? You have no fucking idea. I'm alright. Thanks. I've been through worse. What do you need help with?
River (to Nathaniel): We've got bearclaws in the oven that probably need to come out in a minute. And, I haven't made the soup of the day, yet. So, take your pick... Also, you missed the opening of Mars' show and there was a write up in the paper. You're famous. :-)
Nathaniel (to River): I can start the soup. Looks like potato leek, right? *I'm* famous? Shit. All I did was stand around with my shirt off. Mars is the one with actual fucking talent. How's she taken her new found fame?
River (to Nathaniel): Heh. Hiding, mostly. Someone put in an offer for the triptych and she's been having a panic attack about it for the days. Oh. The fresh vegetables are in the crate over there. Just to warn you, they probably need to be washed. Emma's trying a new farm. Apparently, they don't believe in rinsing them first. It's fucking annoying.
Nathaniel (to River): Holy shit! Yeah they fucking do! Did they roll them in extra dirt or what? Christ. I hate washing fucking leeks. There's not washing them, and including half the damn field in the crate. Look at all that fucking dirt in the bottom. Lemme start a bath for theses bitches... So how come Mars is stressing? I thought she was up for selling it.
River (to Nathaniel): She was up for selling it. I just don't think she was expecting it to happen so quickly.
Nathaniel (to River): How're things going with Mars? She still inviting gay boys along when you try to take her on a date? :-P
River (to Nathaniel): Heh... She actually had Zoe tagalong the other night & Oliver came out with us when Zoe couldn't because of rehearsal. It's fine.
Nathaniel (to River): Well, she's not saying no, so that's something.
River (to Nathaniel): Heh. I know I deserve it. I was total dick. So, if this is what I have to do to earn her trust again, I'll do it.
Nathaniel (to River): Good to know. Alright, I think I got this shit washed enough to be edible. That didn't take fucking forever at all.
River (to Nathaniel): Good. I gotta get this stuff out to the front before Oliver has a fit.
Nathaniel (to River): Alright. I'll be in here chopping. Holler if you need anything.
River (to Nathaniel): Will do.
A short time later:
Oliver (to Nathaniel): Nate! Welcome back. You were missed. Are the brownies cool enough to be cut yet? I've had a couple of requests for them.
Nathaniel (to Oliver): Heh. Yeah. I'm sure y'all were pining for me. Gimme about five more minutes to get this soup simmering, and I'll bring them up.
Oliver (to Nathaniel): Thanks! How are you feeling?
Nathaniel (to Oliver): Uh, alright. Thanks.
A moment later:
Nathaniel: I swear to baby Jesus, if one more person asks how I am...
Mouse (to Nathaniel): Nate, I'm glad to see you! You might want to stir the soup a little more. You don't want it to scald.
Nathaniel (to Mouse): Oh shit! Got it. Sorry.
Mouse (to Nathaniel): ... What? Why are you making that face? (to River) River, where did you put that catering order? The customer is here to pick it up.
River (to Mouse): 'll grab it & bring it out to her. Mrs. Randall was my third grade teacher, I'd like to say hello.
Nathaniel (to Mouse): I was making a face? Uh... Sorry. I dunno. I think I'm just sick of people asking how I'm doing. Which is stupid. I know.
Mouse (to River): Great! Thanks. (to Nathaniel) Heh. Which is why I didn't ask.
Nathaniel (to Mouse): Heh. Thanks. I know it's dumb to be upset that people worried about you, but I just wanna... I dunno. Be normal right now. Thanks for giving me the time off.
Mouse (to Nathaniel): No problem. I totally get it. I've had to take some time off from normal a few times in my life. I'm glad you're feeling better. Now, go get that soup out front before the lunch rush starts.
Nathaniel (to Mouse): Thanks. Yes, ma'am.
Several hours later, at Poppy & Vincent's apartment, West Piedmont:
Winchester (to Vincent): Greetings, Captain Potter! I bear news from your darling wife... Could you please put the rapier down?
Vincent (to Winchester): Believe me, hun, I'd love to, but I really am going to have to insist that you to give me a very good reason.
Winchester (to Vincent): Your wife asked me to deliver this packet & to tell you that the Russians' test was successful and that we need to get our 'ducklings in a row', whatever that means.
Vincent (to Winchester): Really? Excellent! I hope you'll forgive my prior boorish behavior. Can I get you anything?
Winchester (to Vincent): I'd love a cup of tea before I go back. Is there anything you'd like me to tell the lovely Poppy?
Vincent (to Winchester): Hee hee. Nothing fit to be passed along by a third party. What kind of tea would you like? We have earl gray, green, and... Ooo. Best not chance whatever this is. We have earl gray and green.
Winchester (to Vincent): Earl Gray, if you please.
Vincent (to Winchester): Of course. I should have suspected. So? What is it you'd like to ask? Or do you generally scowl at everyone who tries to maim you with a sword? I am sorry about that, incidentally.
Winchester (to Vincent): Oh? And, here I was thinking, scowling at a potential maiming was quite a normal reaction.
Vincent (to Winchester): I've always found smiling works so much better. It unnerves people.
Winchester (to Vincent): I'm sorry to be peevish towards you, Mister Potter. I just spent the last two days with a group of scientists... They have no sense of humor... Or at the very least, a dry sense of humor.
Vincent (to Winchester): Hee hee. That's an understatement if I ever heard one. If that's the case, you have my deepest sympathies as well.
Winchester (to Vincent): Heh. Well, thank you for that & the tea. I should head back to New London. I have a meeting with Madame Rosalind that I can't be late for. You know, how she is.
Vincent (to Winchester): Good heavens. Do I ever. Watch your derriere. Last time I saw her, she'd broken it off with that strong man of hers, and she was in a pinching mood. It was very nice meeting you, Mr. Fox. If you would do me the favor, please tell my wife that I've been keeping my shirts clean. I would appreciate it.
Winchester (to Vincent): Well, then I have to thank you again for the advice! I'll make sure she gets the message regarding the state of your laundry.
Vincent (to Winchester): Thanks, hun.
