A night at the art gallery; Hope and Doug

[x-trance.livejournal.com]

Having been tutored by Doug for a couple of weeks now, Doug decides to throw a few tests her way.

After a month or so of discussions and examples and small, controlled environments, Doug had decided that Hope was finally ready for a real-world test of some of the things he'd been teaching her.  He'd picked an art opening - because of his connections in the Hellfire Club, he didn't want to take her to anything where he'd be recognized and his favor courted.  This little practical exercise wasn't about him.  So it was a mid-scale artist, opening at a mid-scale gallery, someplace he could still blend in.

He'd sent the information about the opening to Hope, and told her that he would meet her in the mansion garage to drive into the city.  But he'd deliberately not said anything about clothing - test number one: preparation.  And so he was leaning against one of the number of sedans the Professor kept around for general use, waiting to see what Hope would do.

Hope carefully pulled her wrap around her and took a last glance in the mirror in the hall before opening the front door to the mansion and stepping out. The invite Doug had handed her said cocktail attire and in the winter Hope would have gone for a LBD, but with it being in the middle of the summer, that had not worked. So instead she had settled on a white cocktail dress with a dark blue overlay, still fairly demure. Hair put in a loose bun with silver strappy heels and dangling earrings made the look complete.

Tucking the invitation in her handbag, Hope gave him a smile and tilted her head. "I'd say I am ready to go."  

Doug appraised Hope's outfit at a glance.  Not exactly trying to look older, but definitely not looking like a high school student.  It would do.  He helped her into the car, then got in and started their drive into New York.  "So, this evening is a bit of a chance to put some of the things we've been working on together in a real-world setting.  I'll give you a few different things to do over the course of the night, and probably pitch a few curve balls your way in the process."  Seeing how she handled distractions and complications was one of his goals for the evening.

She titled her head at him and smiled. "That sounds like an interesting challenge." And it was. The last few weeks she had learned a lot. And without the threat of Goose hanging over her shoulder she found she enjoyed it.  

"Life is all about challenges."  Doug grinned.  "At least, if you want your life to be at all interesting."  He kept the conversation light for a while as they drove, letting Hope wonder what he had in mind for the evening.  As they approached the city, he returned to the main topic.  "Okay.  Your main goal this evening is to find out everything you can about the artist hosting the opening.  And I don't mean the generic stuff they put in the program for the event.  Personal things."

"Personal things. Hmmm..." Might be a good thing then that she at least googled the artist and read an interview or two. It would give her a place to start looking for things. "An interesting challenge indeed..." Smiling mischievously she asked: "And I am assuming correctly you will try hinder me in achieving that goal if you can? Throw some bumps in my way, so to speak"  

A dry chuckle was Doug's response.  "I said as much, didn't I?  And in a general sense, yes.  I mean, I won't be actually walking up to you myself and shoving you away from people.  But distractions, a few unexpected twists..."  They parked the car near the gallery and walked in, presenting their invitations to the person at the door.  "Twist number one," he murmured as they wandered out into the main part of the gallery floor, and nodded toward the small bar set off to one side.  "Go get yourself a drink.  An -alcoholic- drink," he emphasized.

Hope hardly noticed Doug slipping into the crowd. He did present her with an interesting twist there, but that did not stop her from doing what she had decided upon as her first step: take in the room, see who moved where... just take a few moments to observe. Finally she moved her attention to the bar area, seeking for something in particular. Someone who had also arrived alone and searching for someone to converse with.

Finally she spotted someone lingering near the bar, though he looked more bored then anything as his gaze wandered around and he even glanced at his watch twice. Pulling out her program, she slowly wandered over to him and when he looked at her, she gave him a smile. "Please don't tell me you got stood up as well? You look like you are waiting for someone." She wasn't sure where those words came from, but she decided just to run with it.

It was a classic opener, but it worked - the man was indeed expecting someone who hadn't showed up.  And being approached by a good-looking young woman was always good for the male ego.  Fifteen minutes or so of small talk ensued, becoming more animated and easy-going, so when Hope's conversational partner was left with nothing except ice cubes in the bottom of his glass, it was the most natural thing in the world for him to ask "Can I get you anything?" to her.

And now the trick was to remain matter of fact and if it was the most normal case in the world. "Now that you ask it, a glass of wine would be good. A Chardonnay if they have it, but anything is fine."  

The man nodded and moved to the bar proper, catching the server's attention and making his order.  A short while later he returned, his own drink refreshed, and a wine glass in his other hand, which he handed to Hope with a smile.

"Thank you, Eric." She took a sip from the glass, then frowned at her purse. "I am so sorry, but my phone keeps buzzing." Tossing a quick glance at the screen, she frowned even more. "It is my supposed date... I think I have a few things to say to him, but maybe I can come find you afterwards?" She quickly made an exit, moving into the direction of the cloak room.

As she headed that direction, Doug sidled up to her once she had cleared the bar area.  "Not bad," he told her.  "Full marks for accomplishing the goal without assistance."  His eyes flicked back to where he could see a disappointed Eric looking around the bar a bit forlornly.  "And bonus points for disengaging without having to give him your number or anything like that.  A few points off for the indirect approach taking a while, but overall, I'd say a solid B for the assignment, Miss Abbott."  He chuckled, the classroom terminology was a bit incongruous given the situation and the things he was teaching her.

"I'd rather go slow and steady and succeed, then fail because of a hasty approach." Hope quipped back, slightly elated at her first success. Besides, it was not like she had been unable to do anything while talking with him. Plenty of stolen moments to observe the rest of the people. "So, what is next, oh teacher of mine?"

"A pop quiz."  Doug steered her around the floor, looking for all the world like two young people taking in the art.  "How many exits from the building?"

"Four, if you include the stairs to the storage room." She made an innocent seeming gesture towards the discretely placed stairs.

"And the skylight?" Doug asked, his eyes going upwards toward the ceiling, and the very small catwalk that led toward it. Hope studied it for s moment. "I would count it more as a place for sudden entry. Even with the catwalk, it looks pretty hard to reach without equipment or special talent..."

Hope studied it for a moment. "I would count it more as a place for sudden entry. Even with the catwalk, it looks pretty hard to reach without equipment or special talent..."

Doug shrugged.  "Reasonable."  They continued to wander through the exhibit, pausing here and there.  "Okay, next question.  Say you wanted to get something a little more illicit than alcohol.  What would you do?"

That one had her pretty stumped. Not something she has ever thought about. "Here... at the opening?"

Doug nodded.  He hadn't really expected Hope to be looking for something like that.  But he'd spotted at least one or two people who probably would know how to get something 'recreational' for the right price.

"You want me to..." Hope fell silent for a bit. Going for a glass of alcohol, that was one thing. But drugs were something entirely different. "You want me to buy... here... I mean?"

"No, just to see if you can spot who might be selling."  Doug certainly didn't expect Hope to be able to execute an undetected drug deal.  Besides, while he was fairly live-and-let-live about their use, as long as it wasn't hurting anyone, he had no interest in them himself.

That calmed her a little and she let her eyes slide over the crowd, considering what she could look for. "I am guessing they would like more private place... but not linger there. That might be noticed." She slowly reasoned. "And they would probably be as watchful as we are, but try to blend in?" She tilted her head, looking at Doug to see how she was doing so far.

"You're on the right track."  There was a reason the trope of the deal in the bathroom existed - because it was usually the most private place in a public venue like this.  "Who out there looks like a player?"

Hope snagged a canape from a passing tray and nibbled it as she scanned the crowd again. Her eye was drawn to the stairs again. Together with a potted large plant or two, they formed one of the most private places of the room. She focused her attention on the people who lingered nearby. It would not only be his attention on other people that gave him away. He had his wares to protect. So perhaps...

"There, the man with red beard near the potted plant. He is not only scanning the crowd most of the time, but he keeps his hand near one of his pockets." She titled her head as she noticed something else and confirmed it with a quick glance. "His shoes are pretty scuffed. Everyone else... their shoes are polished, as if for an event. His are not."

"He's had to make a run for it more than once," Doug agreed.  "A very likely candidate."  He looked around the rest of the floor.  "As a general rule, at this sort of party, if the bartender isn't dealing, he'll know who is."  He made a little shooing motion.  "Go find out more about the artist.  I'll be around."

"I will see you later." Hope nodded and slipped back in the crowd. Passing by the bar to pick up a tonic, she approached the area where the artist and a small number of his friends or family congregated. She selected a fairly abstract artwork and studied it, tilting her head and looking in the program for the title. "Age of Dreams." She repeated softly to herself. "I wonder which dreams he was thinking about..." as she moved to study the work from another angle.

"I know what sort of dreams it makes me think of," a woman murmured as she walked up to stand next to Hope.  It was fairly clear from the way she was looking more at the young woman than the artwork what had piqued her interest.

"Excuse me?" A faint blush colored Hope's cheeks as she looked to the side. The woman's frank look made her interest quite clear and her blush deepened a little.

The blush was just carte blanche for the woman to nudge a bit closer into Hope's personal space.  "I think you understood just fine," she said in that same quiet but vaguely husky voice.  "I haven't seen you around these events before.  Are you new in town?"

Letting out a slow breath in the hope her blush would subside, Hope titled her head. "I think you never must have been looking well. Because I have been to an opening or two." This was obviously one of Doug's tests. She had just managed to talk with Eric to get herself a drink. This wasn't any different. She could do this. She hoped...

"No, I am certain I would remember you.  Especially with that pretty way you blush."  She smiled and offered her hand to Hope.  "Sarah," she introduced herself, her hand lingering in Hope's when the other woman took it, then fingertips brushing against Hope's palm when she finally drew her hand back.  "So what sort of dreams does it make you think of?"

Well... the blush was something she could not do much about, so she tried to rally as valiantly as possible: "From one angle the ones where you keep falling till you wake up. From another angle... I am not too sure. What do you think the artist was thinking of?" There, maybe she could channel it a little more businesslike?

"Difficult to say," Sarah replied, brushing her fingers along her neck, which was elegantly bared by her hair being up in a flattering twist.  "My own personal opinion about art is that while the artist may have a particular thing in mind creating it, that what is more important is the...reaction it elicits in the viewer."

"What do you make of it then? If it's about the reaction of the viewer, I am sure you have an opinion as well." Hope saw Doug glide by somewhere in the vicinity and she threw his a quick glare. This way she would never truly get around though gathering the info she need, though she had caught a few tiny bits and pieces.  

"It makes me think of the sort of dream that is so vivid, so enthralling, that you can't help but be pulled in, and once inside, you find you never want to wake up."  Sarah stayed half-turned to Hope, looking between both her and the artwork in question.  She reached and touched her fingers briefly to the back of Hope's hand.

Okay... this was a slightly more difficult situation to extract herself from. One, she had far less time to complete her assignment and second, she didn't have a quick excuse handy. Except being direct maybe... She tossed Doug another glare, before pulling up a slight smile.

Like the drink challenge, Doug was very intrigued to see how Hope would react, and how she would handle distractions and diversions.  She seemed very intent on her goal, but she didn't realize that the evening was less about what information she might glean, and more about her awareness of the environment around her and how she moved through it.  Layers within layers.  He tapped a finger against his pursed lips and raised a challenging eyebrow when Hope's eyes flicked toward him.

Hope stifled the sigh that wanted to escape and pulled up the smile again. "You have a very vivid sense of imagination, I am thinking. You see much in the art work."

The smile encouraged Sarah to turn more fully toward Hope, dazzling her with an answering smile of her own.  "I think that one's imagination is about possibilities, and being open.  The more closed off a person is, the less imagination they allow themselves.  But if a person is open to new...experiences," the slight pause gave the word a breathy sort of emphasis, "then there is no limit to what the mind can do."

"Being open is key here, you say?" Hope gestured to another nearby piece a combination of metal cubes and very fine silk threads... "I wonder what your... view would make of this, Sarah?" Her eyes finally started twinkling, the challenge darkening them a little.

Sarah was clearly a student of the arts, and enjoyed the honest attention from Hope.  "The threads...delicateness, softness.  The fragility of connections in a harsh world.  The cubes...trying to impose logic and rigidity on a fluid, chaotic world."  Her eyes twinkled in reply and her smile returned.  "And you?  What do you make of it?" she asked, fingers brushing against the back of Hope's hand again.

Tilting her head, Hope studied it for a moment more: "That even the tiniest things can keep thing trapped. See how the silk wraps around the metal? The metal is firm and strong, hard even. And yet it's kept leashed, kept in place by the threads only a little thicker then a hair... Held back potential..."

"Leashed?"  Sarah raised her eyebrow.  "An interesting choice of word.  Has someone tried to leash you and hold back your potential..."  She paused.  "I'm sorry, I don't know what to call you."

"Not exactly... Look at the title the artist gave it. 'An Empress' Heart. I would not be surprised if he was referring to Sissi." Hope gestured at the card, firmly sticking to the art work and not all the underlying layers. "And I am Hope."

"Interesting."  Sarah would not have immediately connected the art to the Austro-Hungarian empress Hope was referring to.  "You have quite the recollection of history, Hope."  The assurance the younger woman was displaying intrigued her even further.  "I like the way you see things."  The soft huskiness of her voice suggested that she was wishing Hope might want to see something else.

Playing somewhat obtuse seemed to work so far, only she had no idea how to extract herself from the situation. Unless... Hope gave a tiny shrug and lowered her eyes a little. "I only hope I interpret it all correct. It's the first time I have seen his work, so much is an educated guess. How about you, Sarah?"

"I think that with interpretation of art, there is never really a single 'correct' way to view things.  Art is so subjective, really."  The downcast eyes emboldened Sarah - she had been dancing around a more subtle flirtation, but she stepped closer and made her move.  "I think you're very interesting, Hope," she said, taking one of Hope's hands lightly in hers.  "I was wondering if you'd like to have coffee with me some time."

Okay, that avenue clearly didn't quite pay off. And the evening was proceeding pretty quickly and she still had found out very little. Sucking in a quick breath, she raised her head again: "I am flattered, Sarah, but..."

Doug had caught the slight air of panic in Hope's body language.  She'd carried herself reasonably well in the face of being flirted rather heavily with, but she clearly didn't have any idea on how to extricate herself gracefully from Sarah's web.  He stepped up behind her and put a reassuring hand on the small of Hope's back.  "Sarah, dear, let the poor girl be," he said with a smile.  At a questioning look from the other woman, he nodded fractionally, to which Sarah shrugged.  "If you change your mind, Hope, Doug knows how to find me."  And with that, she wandered off into the crowd.

"Well, you held up all right, but you need to work on how to get yourself free from unwanted attention," Doug observed to Hope.

Hope relaxed a little, but then muttered: "Next time I am putting a ring in my purse. Easy to slip on and an perfect excuse."

Doug nodded.  "Smart.  It won't stop everyone, but it will stop some."  He plucked a small silver band with an equally small diamond chip out of his pocket and held it between thumb and forefinger, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

Raising an eyebrow, Hope shook her head. "Why oh why are you carrying a ring? And one that seem to fit me as well..." With a quick movement she stole it from his hand and put it on her finger, before pulling out a cheeky smile. Deep inside, she was a little uneasy, since it was still getting later and later.  

Doug raised an eyebrow at Hope, taking in the nervousness.  "I may have brought along a few items that could help with the various challenges I've been sending your way this evening."  A driver’s license with Hope's face on it appeared in his hand, then disappeared back into his pocket.  "Granted, if you want to make use of any of them, you'd have to convince me.  Or offer something to trade for them."  He shrugged.  "But you've been doing reasonably well thus far."

"Or just steal it from you..." Hope held up her hand and wiggled her fingers, one eye already on the crowd.

Hope's audacity elicited a smirk from Doug.  "You're welcome to try if you like," he told her.  "I think unless you get some training in that direction, you won't get very far, though."  Pick pocketing wasn't his strength, but he knew the basics, enough to at least have a reasonable chance of success against the average person.  But more importantly, he knew how to keep his own things from being taken.  Hope had caught him off-guard with speed to take the ring, but he'd be ready the next time.

"Time will tell..." With those words, Hope slipped back in the crowd.

~*~

The drive back from the art opening was quiet as they left the city, Hope pretty clearly deep in thought.  "What's on your mind?" Doug asked.  "How do you think the evening went?"

She startled a little, then looked over to Doug. "I wasn't able to gather much information." Hope stated, summarizing things in one short sentence.

Doug smiled and shook his head.  "The purpose of the night wasn't really about gathering information," he told her.  "I mean, that was your task, but it was mostly just a way to frame the rest of the exercise - which was about how you handled distractions and complications in a busy public setting."

"Sneaky, very sneaky." She made a bit of a joke of it, but she could feel herself release tension she had not even thought she felt in her shoulders. "So how did I do?"

Doug noticed the shift in Hope's body, and reminded himself that her previous 'schooling' had been much harsher on failure.  He didn't know the details, but it was obvious in the way she didn't like to talk about it.  "Pretty well.  You got bogged down a bit with Sarah, but you adapted to sudden changes."

"Not exactly used to flirting with a woman..." Hope remarked briefly. "Erik was far easier in that regard. And there I had a far easier way of getting out."

"You could have used the exact same techniques on Sarah as you did on Erik," Doug told her.  "I think you just need to learn to assert yourself a bit more in situations where you aren't as comfortable."  He shrugged.  "In terms of that sort of flirtation, men and women are actually much more similar than those terrible gossip columns would have you think."

Hope nodded thoughtfully. "I understand what you mean." She relaxed a little more and suddenly couldn't quite stifle the yawn she felt coming on.

Doug grinned.  "Get some rest.  You've had a busy night."  His eyes twinkled.  "And more to come…”