Haller, Sooraya, Arthur | Shared Space
May. 13th, 2024 09:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
xp_longshot posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
xp_logsHaller returns to volunteering at the District X Community Centre, and things do not go as planned as his makeshift office is quickly crowded.
*****
Davey appears to expertly not handle the issue of unread emails. Arthur arrives with Felix and a selection of lost and found items.
Davey didn't recognize this office. It wasn't anywhere at the mansion or Muir, and it didn't seem to be a hospital or anything either. It was super generic, too, like an office set up for anybody to use. That was weird, but even though coming back from Muir always threw off their system it'd never been so disruptive he'd come out someplace that wasn't safe. Plus Jim's laptop had been set up, and he'd been halfway through a cup of coffee, so wherever they were they belonged.
Davey had glanced at what Jim had been working on, but it was just emails. Lots of emails, dating back months and months. Adult stuff that had nothing to do with him. Bored, Davey pulled out his phone and ended up on a chain of videos about giant hornet nest removal. He didn't think they had those in New York, which was too bad because the mansion did have chickens, and there was something weirdly satisfying about watching some guy feed his the larvae-filled combs.
This important business was interrupted by a soft knock on the door.
Whoever it was, they didn't wait for a reply before a familiar mop of blond hair and a ready smile appeared in the doorway. "Hey," was offered in greeting as the lean man sat half in and half out of the office, leaving just enough space in the door for another mess of golden fur to stick his nose as well. "Almost finished with the readings, but Felix could use a break I think."
Arthur squatted down to both unhook the aforementioned dog's leash and give the golden an affectionate ruffle. He quickly returned to his previous position — leaning with one elbow propped relaxedly against the doorframe as his other arm cradled a box helpfully labeled "DXCC Lost & Found" in enthusiastically hand drawn bubble letters. Haller got a flash of a smile before Arthur's attention turned back out the door to offer a muffled hello and muted smalltalk to some passerby.
Felix, however, made a beeline for the dark-haired man on his phone.
"Arthur!" The young alter was out of his chair in an instant, tossing the phone onto the desk with a clatter that did a lot to explain the cracked screen protector despite the heavy duty phone case. He started to make for the other man, then slapped a hand over his mouth. Depending on who Arthur was talking to, drawing attention to himself might mean Davey would have to step back again. Guiltily, the boy dropped into a crouch and redirected his attention to Felix.
"Felix-time, Felix-time, every time is Felix-time," Davey sing-songed under his breath as he scuffled the elder golden's soft ruff. His blue eyes cut back to Arthur at the door, waiting for the all-clear.
That announcement drew Arthur's immediate attention, and the man leaned backward through the doorway with an expression like he just got an unexpected and delightful present. Davey got a quick wink before the blond's focus moved to politely shuffling whoever was in the open hallway along.
Felix's tail gave a soft pitter patter as it thumped happily.
The click of the door shutting signaled that the two were alone, and Arthur's smile had grown into a full grin.
"Davey!" This was accompanied with the thump of the lost and found box being deposited on the nearest open surface to be immediately forgotten as he crossed the room to put a hand on Haller's shoulder. "How wonderful."
Davey surged to his feet and wrapped Arthur in the same sort of hug a boy would have given his favorite uncle, spoiled only slightly by the fact the boy in this case was taller by several inches.
"I missed you!" Davey cried, his face somewhere near Arthur's ear. "I wanted to talk to you sooner, but moving makes things kind of screwy and sometimes we just stay Jim for a while. Also, I don't know where this place is. Where are we?"
His hug was returned fiercely, even if it was like hugging a reed. Davey was given a couple little pats on the back before Arthur pulled away to answer.
"We're in an office," he said helpfully, "and they share those here since there isn't much space, but I think the idea really adds community into 'community center.'" Arthur put a hand to his chin as if to properly consider. "But . . . Jim had said he wanted to 'properly prepare for a return to work,' but that could mean anything. We all have a process."
"Oh, work," Davey said dismissively. He glanced around the office and made a face. "Even the places Jim goes to work are boring. Hey, what's that for?" His attention had fallen on the box of abandoned items Arthur had set down when he'd come in.
Arthur's eyes lit up — only metaphorically this time — with far more interest than displayed before. "Oh, something I do to help!" He wiggled the fingers on a free hand. "I try to read who left what with my psychometry." The man was at the box in an instant, helpfully gesturing and holding up items as he explained. "Although there's been more than usual with last year’s flood and riots and," he paused there, pivoting right past the Horseman, "you should have seen how much there was. Getting folks back the things they care about feels right."
"That's so cool!" Davey paced over to join Arthur, a tail-wagging Felix following after him. "If I had a power I'd want a cool one like that, not telepathy or something. I don't wanna know what anybody else is thinking. How do you find the people they go to? Do you get their addresses and stuff too?"
"See," Arthur said as he put a finger to his nose, "that would make it too easy. I only see people's strongest memories, so it is like a puzzle. Figure out who it is by putting all of the clues together." His eyes drifted over to clipboard stashed over in the side of the box, where a scribbly doodle of a bored looking Felix stared mournfully at half-hearted list of notes. "And what do you mean? Telepathy is great for this. Jim can help me solve things much faster."
The alter gave him a dubious look as he bent over to rub the real Felix's ears.. "How? He's not even a detective." In just three syllables the boy managed to communicate that of the two adults in the room only one of them had a job worth talking about, and he, Davey, was unlucky enough to be sharing a body with the other.
There was a pause as Arthur considered. "I'd say that I see things, but Jim's better at understanding them." His expression crept into a slow smile, like a ripple across a pond. "Every Sherlock needs a sidekick, right? We’re a team."
The expression didn't escape Davey's notice. He felt a small surge of jealousy. "I could be your sidekick," he said, a little sulkily. "I can throw knives. Felix and I can be your backup. He can be a melee fighter and I can be long-range."
Arthur's smile crooked into a grin. "Together we'd solve crime by fighting crime? I love this image. Tell me more."
"You know, like if when you catch the bad guys they try to fight back, and everyone knows you shouldn't call the cops. Cyndi always says All Cops Are B-" the alter stumbled, and caught himself just in time, "uh, bad. Anyway," he continued, rallying, "Jim already has a job. I should be able to have one if I want, too."
That got a laugh — the kind shared between friends, the vintage of bottled up joy that just bubbles over into sound. The sort loud enough to be heard through closed doors.
"A terrific trio. I could pay you in loose change and adventure," Arthur said, "but I'd never make you suffer the things that Quentin or Warren might worry about. Like taxes and paperwork." He shuddered at the thought. "Felix is already paid in treats, of course."
"Pay me in money! Then I can buy Felix treats if I want, too. I get my own credit card but it doesn't have very m . . ." Davey abruptly trailed off, as if the thought had suddenly slipped through his fingers, and the face that had been so animated just a second before went completely blank.
There was a knock.
*****
Sooraya arrives and Jim takes over. There's some light small talk until Arthur and Sooraya disagree, and Felix agrees that the vibes are off.
A perfunctory knock on the door sounded through the office and Sooraya pushed the door open, head buried in a small sheaf of papers. "Jim, I was thinking . . . oh, I'm so sorry." She had just looked up from her paperwork and froze in the door. "Looks like I'm interrupting something."
It took a few seconds for Sooraya's words to make it past Jim's ears and into his brain. The transition was not a fluid one; one moment he recalled being at the desk, feeling overwhelmed by the amount of unread emails in his inbox, and now he was . . . not. Instinctively the telepath took a quick inventory of his surroundings, groping for context clues that might provide him with something to cover his confusion. Still in the office. Sooraya at the door, puzzled, and next to him —
"Arthur." Instantly, Jim felt his muscles untense. He put a palm to his forehead and shook his head, almost light-headed with relief. "Sorry. I wasn't here. Were we . . . was I talking to you, or . . ."
That smile from before was back as Arthur placed a hand, again, on Jim's shoulder, except this time he squeezed just a little to reassure. "Hey, hey. Davey and I were talking. He was here when I came in about five minutes ago."
Felix had already crossed the room to greet Sooraya. He did not jump or squeeze into the door, but instead sat himself patiently while waiting for attention.
Arthur turned only after assuring Jim was okay, and his smile spread into something more general and welcoming. He did not move away from Haller. "Sooraya! Come on in. Plenty of room." A sympathetic grimace was aimed at everything she carried. "That's a serious case of paperwork there. I'm sorry."
Sooraya simply glanced at the paperwork and, without much thought, dropped it on the nearest chair before crouching down and petting Felix. "Hi Arthur." She greeted him with a quick nod. "And I am sorry for startling Davey. I didn't know he was around. Will you ask Jack to tell him for me, Jim?"
"Sure," Jim replied distractedly, equal parts trying to get his brain back up to speed and guilt that Sooraya's kind facilitation of this volunteer shift had turned into nothing but a new opportunity for Davey to screw around. "He shouldn't have been out here anyway," he continued as he tried to kick his embarrassment under the closest emotional rug, "but sometimes things get upset around transitional periods. I guess it's better than holding entire conversations that never get written to memory."
The blond in the room squinted as he followed the conversation, starting and failing to vocalize a response several times in the course of Jim's speech. "Writing things down does help," was what Arthur finally went with, but he said it like a question. His follow up of "I hope I'm not interrupting something" was a lot more confident.
"You're not interrupting anything . . . I'm thinking I might be interrupting more. I just had a bit of an idea I wanted to get Jim's input on, but it's nothing urgent." She gestured at the stack of papers. Sooraya's eyes narrowed a little as she shifted her attention back to Jim. "And Jim, Davey is welcome here. I am guessing it's kinda embarrassing when it happens, but I don't think it would harm anyone." Reaching out, she gave his shoulder a quick squeeze.
"So, yeah," Arthur said as he tried to find somewhere to sit that wasn't one of the two chairs in this quickly tightening space. He settled on half sitting against the top of a low file cabinet, and his expression was caught somewhere between the beginning of a grimace and really trying to not do that. This left the man with a kind of confused, pleading wince. Felix went to intertwine himself between Arthur's legs, and the two waited for someone else to fill the silence.
There were any number of people gifted at filling a silence, and not one of them was David Haller. "Um, yeah," Jim said, wondering how it was possible to feel like both he and Sooraya had just interrupted a private conversation. He attempted to ignore the awkwardness slowly piling up around them and get back on track. "Yeah, I can talk. I was probably just feeling a little overwhelmed, but I'll be fine. I was . . ." The Lost and Found box caught Jim's eye, and finally the morning's text chain came back to him. He straightened a little and turned back to Arthur. "Oh, right, the readings. Did you end up needing my help?"
"What?" The man's eyes followed Jim's, and it was like he'd completely forgotten about the box of assorted knick knacks. He blinked. "Oh. Right!" With a clap of his hands, Arthur was back to his usual ease. "Most of them were easy, but you know how it goes: sort through the items that have strong vibes, don't touch what has too many vibes. The usual. There was just a lot left over from early in the year. Good practice."
Arthur refocused on Sooraya, "Jim helps me with harder readings that aren't as clear," he said with a gesture at the decently full box, "and that's what is left of what was in the basement."
"You know, I heard you helped with that. But I never really registered what that meant." Sooraya eyed the box with its contents curiously, papers forgotten on the chair. "So what's the strangest reading you've had?"
"Huh, now that's a question. Today or ever?" The blond's eyes narrowed immediately, though, as his expression turned sly. "Except there's the coat."
Jim coughed. That mention had the same effect on his lingering disorientation as a cup of hot coffee. Poured directly into his lap. "Arthur, don't explain the coat. Some of us don't work for Warren."
"With Warren! Not for," the other man offered like a well known fact before leaning forward conspiratorially. "So this pink lynx peacoat has been in my closet for years, but no one's sure where it came from. The only readings I can get for it are fuzzy in a very Hollywood way, but there's at least four former owners. An unsolved mystery."
"First of... promise me that this story does not include any of Warren's 'extracurricular activities'?" A vaguely horrified expression flashed over Sooraya's face. "Otherwise it already sounds pretty interesting, I've got to say."
"No, no, it isn't Warren's," Arthur said with a chuckle. "Warren-themed though — let's say if most of my readings are documentaries, the coat's way more arthouse. All a bunch of vignettes stitched together by that euphoria you get when . . ."
"You were big into the art scene in the 1980s," Jim finished, dryly.
Arthur's smile quirked into a grin. "Hard to see things through snow." He reached down to pet Felix, who had settled on the floor contentedly. "But yeah, Jim, I was hoping you could help with what's left. What I'm seeing is jumbled and panicked. A telepathetic remote control might be just what I need."
"Sure, we-" Jim's phone buzzed against the desk. Frowning, Jim scooped it up and glanced at the caller ID.
"Sorry, back in a minute," he said apologetically. The counselor excused himself, absently squeezing Arthur's shoulder on the way past.
The blond's head swivelled as David exited, fondly tracking the other man's movements out of the room like the dog beneath him. When Arthur turned back, however, it was to find himself staring directly at Sooraya.
Sooraya returned the stare without hesitation, her gaze hardening as she ran Arthur's earlier words through her mind. "Only back a little while ago and just starting to settle and you're already pulling him in?" She stated, her voice soft, but with a sharp edge of coldness and steel.
Arthur blinked, just a bit dazed, as her words rolled over him, but the best he could manage was an unsure, "I'm sorry. Say that again?"
"Telepathic remote control? I thought I just heard you mention those words." Sooraya clarified drily, images of Jim's worries and fears about his telepathy on Muir flashing through her mind.
"Yes," he said carefully, like Arthur was considering where to first step out across an icy lake, "that's what we do. I just see the memories, but Jim's able to use his gifts to help control them. It's brilliant, really — he can start, stop, and slow them down. Like a remote."
"That does come in handy . . ." Sooraya acknowledged, but she let that fall by the wayside as her eyes held Arthurs. "But Arthur, Jim is only just easing back in after everything. You might wanna step carefully here... so you don't set back his recovery."
"But he's recovered," Arthur said. "Charles said so, Moira said so, the entire island of Muir agreed. He's fine."
"Then you're seeing what your eyes want to see." Sooraya countered, one eyebrow rising. "Davey's appearance here should be a hint for that..."
Arthur's eyes narrowed, and suddenly his full attention was on the woman across from him. No more careful stepping. No more smile. "He doesn't need to be managed, Sooraya. Friends don't do that." There was an undercurrent there — some particular sensitivity — but whatever it was he didn't share.
The door to the hallway reopened, admitting a distracted Jim. The thin man was preoccupied with his phone, grimly scrolling through a list of contacts.
"Sorry, guys, I'm going to have to hop onto a conference call. One of my patients is . . ." The expressions on the faces of the other two registered. The telepath's forehead creased. "Is everything okay?"
"Everything is fine, Jim. Let me grab my papers and I'll let you get on that call." Sooraya quickly gathered her paperwork before turning to Arthur, quickly explaining in a low voice: "That's where you're wrong, Arthur. He isn't my friend, he is my brother."
"Fine," Arthur agreed. Or questioned. Hard to tell — that one word could have been a heavy bound volume. Yet his smile was back, and he stood. "Would you look at the vibes," he announced despite not wearing a watch and still checking his wrist, "I'll see us both out then. There's always later." The accompanying finger guns were held until he was, box of items in hand, holding the door open for Sooraya.
Felix, concerned, shot a puzzled look to Jim before he, mostly on account of a leash, left the office.
With no greater insight than the golden retriever, Jim stared after two of the most easy-going people he knew as they carried their tension into the hall. He blinked.
"Okay . . . what the hell was that?"
Davey appears to expertly not handle the issue of unread emails. Arthur arrives with Felix and a selection of lost and found items.
Davey didn't recognize this office. It wasn't anywhere at the mansion or Muir, and it didn't seem to be a hospital or anything either. It was super generic, too, like an office set up for anybody to use. That was weird, but even though coming back from Muir always threw off their system it'd never been so disruptive he'd come out someplace that wasn't safe. Plus Jim's laptop had been set up, and he'd been halfway through a cup of coffee, so wherever they were they belonged.
Davey had glanced at what Jim had been working on, but it was just emails. Lots of emails, dating back months and months. Adult stuff that had nothing to do with him. Bored, Davey pulled out his phone and ended up on a chain of videos about giant hornet nest removal. He didn't think they had those in New York, which was too bad because the mansion did have chickens, and there was something weirdly satisfying about watching some guy feed his the larvae-filled combs.
This important business was interrupted by a soft knock on the door.
Whoever it was, they didn't wait for a reply before a familiar mop of blond hair and a ready smile appeared in the doorway. "Hey," was offered in greeting as the lean man sat half in and half out of the office, leaving just enough space in the door for another mess of golden fur to stick his nose as well. "Almost finished with the readings, but Felix could use a break I think."
Arthur squatted down to both unhook the aforementioned dog's leash and give the golden an affectionate ruffle. He quickly returned to his previous position — leaning with one elbow propped relaxedly against the doorframe as his other arm cradled a box helpfully labeled "DXCC Lost & Found" in enthusiastically hand drawn bubble letters. Haller got a flash of a smile before Arthur's attention turned back out the door to offer a muffled hello and muted smalltalk to some passerby.
Felix, however, made a beeline for the dark-haired man on his phone.
"Arthur!" The young alter was out of his chair in an instant, tossing the phone onto the desk with a clatter that did a lot to explain the cracked screen protector despite the heavy duty phone case. He started to make for the other man, then slapped a hand over his mouth. Depending on who Arthur was talking to, drawing attention to himself might mean Davey would have to step back again. Guiltily, the boy dropped into a crouch and redirected his attention to Felix.
"Felix-time, Felix-time, every time is Felix-time," Davey sing-songed under his breath as he scuffled the elder golden's soft ruff. His blue eyes cut back to Arthur at the door, waiting for the all-clear.
That announcement drew Arthur's immediate attention, and the man leaned backward through the doorway with an expression like he just got an unexpected and delightful present. Davey got a quick wink before the blond's focus moved to politely shuffling whoever was in the open hallway along.
Felix's tail gave a soft pitter patter as it thumped happily.
The click of the door shutting signaled that the two were alone, and Arthur's smile had grown into a full grin.
"Davey!" This was accompanied with the thump of the lost and found box being deposited on the nearest open surface to be immediately forgotten as he crossed the room to put a hand on Haller's shoulder. "How wonderful."
Davey surged to his feet and wrapped Arthur in the same sort of hug a boy would have given his favorite uncle, spoiled only slightly by the fact the boy in this case was taller by several inches.
"I missed you!" Davey cried, his face somewhere near Arthur's ear. "I wanted to talk to you sooner, but moving makes things kind of screwy and sometimes we just stay Jim for a while. Also, I don't know where this place is. Where are we?"
His hug was returned fiercely, even if it was like hugging a reed. Davey was given a couple little pats on the back before Arthur pulled away to answer.
"We're in an office," he said helpfully, "and they share those here since there isn't much space, but I think the idea really adds community into 'community center.'" Arthur put a hand to his chin as if to properly consider. "But . . . Jim had said he wanted to 'properly prepare for a return to work,' but that could mean anything. We all have a process."
"Oh, work," Davey said dismissively. He glanced around the office and made a face. "Even the places Jim goes to work are boring. Hey, what's that for?" His attention had fallen on the box of abandoned items Arthur had set down when he'd come in.
Arthur's eyes lit up — only metaphorically this time — with far more interest than displayed before. "Oh, something I do to help!" He wiggled the fingers on a free hand. "I try to read who left what with my psychometry." The man was at the box in an instant, helpfully gesturing and holding up items as he explained. "Although there's been more than usual with last year’s flood and riots and," he paused there, pivoting right past the Horseman, "you should have seen how much there was. Getting folks back the things they care about feels right."
"That's so cool!" Davey paced over to join Arthur, a tail-wagging Felix following after him. "If I had a power I'd want a cool one like that, not telepathy or something. I don't wanna know what anybody else is thinking. How do you find the people they go to? Do you get their addresses and stuff too?"
"See," Arthur said as he put a finger to his nose, "that would make it too easy. I only see people's strongest memories, so it is like a puzzle. Figure out who it is by putting all of the clues together." His eyes drifted over to clipboard stashed over in the side of the box, where a scribbly doodle of a bored looking Felix stared mournfully at half-hearted list of notes. "And what do you mean? Telepathy is great for this. Jim can help me solve things much faster."
The alter gave him a dubious look as he bent over to rub the real Felix's ears.. "How? He's not even a detective." In just three syllables the boy managed to communicate that of the two adults in the room only one of them had a job worth talking about, and he, Davey, was unlucky enough to be sharing a body with the other.
There was a pause as Arthur considered. "I'd say that I see things, but Jim's better at understanding them." His expression crept into a slow smile, like a ripple across a pond. "Every Sherlock needs a sidekick, right? We’re a team."
The expression didn't escape Davey's notice. He felt a small surge of jealousy. "I could be your sidekick," he said, a little sulkily. "I can throw knives. Felix and I can be your backup. He can be a melee fighter and I can be long-range."
Arthur's smile crooked into a grin. "Together we'd solve crime by fighting crime? I love this image. Tell me more."
"You know, like if when you catch the bad guys they try to fight back, and everyone knows you shouldn't call the cops. Cyndi always says All Cops Are B-" the alter stumbled, and caught himself just in time, "uh, bad. Anyway," he continued, rallying, "Jim already has a job. I should be able to have one if I want, too."
That got a laugh — the kind shared between friends, the vintage of bottled up joy that just bubbles over into sound. The sort loud enough to be heard through closed doors.
"A terrific trio. I could pay you in loose change and adventure," Arthur said, "but I'd never make you suffer the things that Quentin or Warren might worry about. Like taxes and paperwork." He shuddered at the thought. "Felix is already paid in treats, of course."
"Pay me in money! Then I can buy Felix treats if I want, too. I get my own credit card but it doesn't have very m . . ." Davey abruptly trailed off, as if the thought had suddenly slipped through his fingers, and the face that had been so animated just a second before went completely blank.
There was a knock.
Sooraya arrives and Jim takes over. There's some light small talk until Arthur and Sooraya disagree, and Felix agrees that the vibes are off.
A perfunctory knock on the door sounded through the office and Sooraya pushed the door open, head buried in a small sheaf of papers. "Jim, I was thinking . . . oh, I'm so sorry." She had just looked up from her paperwork and froze in the door. "Looks like I'm interrupting something."
It took a few seconds for Sooraya's words to make it past Jim's ears and into his brain. The transition was not a fluid one; one moment he recalled being at the desk, feeling overwhelmed by the amount of unread emails in his inbox, and now he was . . . not. Instinctively the telepath took a quick inventory of his surroundings, groping for context clues that might provide him with something to cover his confusion. Still in the office. Sooraya at the door, puzzled, and next to him —
"Arthur." Instantly, Jim felt his muscles untense. He put a palm to his forehead and shook his head, almost light-headed with relief. "Sorry. I wasn't here. Were we . . . was I talking to you, or . . ."
That smile from before was back as Arthur placed a hand, again, on Jim's shoulder, except this time he squeezed just a little to reassure. "Hey, hey. Davey and I were talking. He was here when I came in about five minutes ago."
Felix had already crossed the room to greet Sooraya. He did not jump or squeeze into the door, but instead sat himself patiently while waiting for attention.
Arthur turned only after assuring Jim was okay, and his smile spread into something more general and welcoming. He did not move away from Haller. "Sooraya! Come on in. Plenty of room." A sympathetic grimace was aimed at everything she carried. "That's a serious case of paperwork there. I'm sorry."
Sooraya simply glanced at the paperwork and, without much thought, dropped it on the nearest chair before crouching down and petting Felix. "Hi Arthur." She greeted him with a quick nod. "And I am sorry for startling Davey. I didn't know he was around. Will you ask Jack to tell him for me, Jim?"
"Sure," Jim replied distractedly, equal parts trying to get his brain back up to speed and guilt that Sooraya's kind facilitation of this volunteer shift had turned into nothing but a new opportunity for Davey to screw around. "He shouldn't have been out here anyway," he continued as he tried to kick his embarrassment under the closest emotional rug, "but sometimes things get upset around transitional periods. I guess it's better than holding entire conversations that never get written to memory."
The blond in the room squinted as he followed the conversation, starting and failing to vocalize a response several times in the course of Jim's speech. "Writing things down does help," was what Arthur finally went with, but he said it like a question. His follow up of "I hope I'm not interrupting something" was a lot more confident.
"You're not interrupting anything . . . I'm thinking I might be interrupting more. I just had a bit of an idea I wanted to get Jim's input on, but it's nothing urgent." She gestured at the stack of papers. Sooraya's eyes narrowed a little as she shifted her attention back to Jim. "And Jim, Davey is welcome here. I am guessing it's kinda embarrassing when it happens, but I don't think it would harm anyone." Reaching out, she gave his shoulder a quick squeeze.
"So, yeah," Arthur said as he tried to find somewhere to sit that wasn't one of the two chairs in this quickly tightening space. He settled on half sitting against the top of a low file cabinet, and his expression was caught somewhere between the beginning of a grimace and really trying to not do that. This left the man with a kind of confused, pleading wince. Felix went to intertwine himself between Arthur's legs, and the two waited for someone else to fill the silence.
There were any number of people gifted at filling a silence, and not one of them was David Haller. "Um, yeah," Jim said, wondering how it was possible to feel like both he and Sooraya had just interrupted a private conversation. He attempted to ignore the awkwardness slowly piling up around them and get back on track. "Yeah, I can talk. I was probably just feeling a little overwhelmed, but I'll be fine. I was . . ." The Lost and Found box caught Jim's eye, and finally the morning's text chain came back to him. He straightened a little and turned back to Arthur. "Oh, right, the readings. Did you end up needing my help?"
"What?" The man's eyes followed Jim's, and it was like he'd completely forgotten about the box of assorted knick knacks. He blinked. "Oh. Right!" With a clap of his hands, Arthur was back to his usual ease. "Most of them were easy, but you know how it goes: sort through the items that have strong vibes, don't touch what has too many vibes. The usual. There was just a lot left over from early in the year. Good practice."
Arthur refocused on Sooraya, "Jim helps me with harder readings that aren't as clear," he said with a gesture at the decently full box, "and that's what is left of what was in the basement."
"You know, I heard you helped with that. But I never really registered what that meant." Sooraya eyed the box with its contents curiously, papers forgotten on the chair. "So what's the strangest reading you've had?"
"Huh, now that's a question. Today or ever?" The blond's eyes narrowed immediately, though, as his expression turned sly. "Except there's the coat."
Jim coughed. That mention had the same effect on his lingering disorientation as a cup of hot coffee. Poured directly into his lap. "Arthur, don't explain the coat. Some of us don't work for Warren."
"With Warren! Not for," the other man offered like a well known fact before leaning forward conspiratorially. "So this pink lynx peacoat has been in my closet for years, but no one's sure where it came from. The only readings I can get for it are fuzzy in a very Hollywood way, but there's at least four former owners. An unsolved mystery."
"First of... promise me that this story does not include any of Warren's 'extracurricular activities'?" A vaguely horrified expression flashed over Sooraya's face. "Otherwise it already sounds pretty interesting, I've got to say."
"No, no, it isn't Warren's," Arthur said with a chuckle. "Warren-themed though — let's say if most of my readings are documentaries, the coat's way more arthouse. All a bunch of vignettes stitched together by that euphoria you get when . . ."
"You were big into the art scene in the 1980s," Jim finished, dryly.
Arthur's smile quirked into a grin. "Hard to see things through snow." He reached down to pet Felix, who had settled on the floor contentedly. "But yeah, Jim, I was hoping you could help with what's left. What I'm seeing is jumbled and panicked. A telepathetic remote control might be just what I need."
"Sure, we-" Jim's phone buzzed against the desk. Frowning, Jim scooped it up and glanced at the caller ID.
"Sorry, back in a minute," he said apologetically. The counselor excused himself, absently squeezing Arthur's shoulder on the way past.
The blond's head swivelled as David exited, fondly tracking the other man's movements out of the room like the dog beneath him. When Arthur turned back, however, it was to find himself staring directly at Sooraya.
Sooraya returned the stare without hesitation, her gaze hardening as she ran Arthur's earlier words through her mind. "Only back a little while ago and just starting to settle and you're already pulling him in?" She stated, her voice soft, but with a sharp edge of coldness and steel.
Arthur blinked, just a bit dazed, as her words rolled over him, but the best he could manage was an unsure, "I'm sorry. Say that again?"
"Telepathic remote control? I thought I just heard you mention those words." Sooraya clarified drily, images of Jim's worries and fears about his telepathy on Muir flashing through her mind.
"Yes," he said carefully, like Arthur was considering where to first step out across an icy lake, "that's what we do. I just see the memories, but Jim's able to use his gifts to help control them. It's brilliant, really — he can start, stop, and slow them down. Like a remote."
"That does come in handy . . ." Sooraya acknowledged, but she let that fall by the wayside as her eyes held Arthurs. "But Arthur, Jim is only just easing back in after everything. You might wanna step carefully here... so you don't set back his recovery."
"But he's recovered," Arthur said. "Charles said so, Moira said so, the entire island of Muir agreed. He's fine."
"Then you're seeing what your eyes want to see." Sooraya countered, one eyebrow rising. "Davey's appearance here should be a hint for that..."
Arthur's eyes narrowed, and suddenly his full attention was on the woman across from him. No more careful stepping. No more smile. "He doesn't need to be managed, Sooraya. Friends don't do that." There was an undercurrent there — some particular sensitivity — but whatever it was he didn't share.
The door to the hallway reopened, admitting a distracted Jim. The thin man was preoccupied with his phone, grimly scrolling through a list of contacts.
"Sorry, guys, I'm going to have to hop onto a conference call. One of my patients is . . ." The expressions on the faces of the other two registered. The telepath's forehead creased. "Is everything okay?"
"Everything is fine, Jim. Let me grab my papers and I'll let you get on that call." Sooraya quickly gathered her paperwork before turning to Arthur, quickly explaining in a low voice: "That's where you're wrong, Arthur. He isn't my friend, he is my brother."
"Fine," Arthur agreed. Or questioned. Hard to tell — that one word could have been a heavy bound volume. Yet his smile was back, and he stood. "Would you look at the vibes," he announced despite not wearing a watch and still checking his wrist, "I'll see us both out then. There's always later." The accompanying finger guns were held until he was, box of items in hand, holding the door open for Sooraya.
Felix, concerned, shot a puzzled look to Jim before he, mostly on account of a leash, left the office.
With no greater insight than the golden retriever, Jim stared after two of the most easy-going people he knew as they carried their tension into the hall. He blinked.
"Okay . . . what the hell was that?"
