![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
indriSUMMARY: Giles and Ethan, the electric Kool-Aid funky Satan groove year, in the early seventies. Rated M. Spoilers to Band Candy. Acknowledgements and disclaimers.
16.
The next day, Dee and Randall took Ripper out for a meal. They caught the Tube down to Leicester Square and walked to a small ratty-looking coffee house near Covent Garden which nevertheless served a decent high tea. They sat at an outdoor table, watching the tourists watching them.
Randall insisted on paying for everything, which made Ripper feel as if he were being courted. Perhaps also, it was the odd formality of his companions' clothing: they were in full regalia, Dee in a long pink cardigan and white dress with a boa draped around her, and Randall in another of his long antique military-style coats. Ripper felt defiantly scruffy next to them in his jeans and leather jacket. He ate his cucumber sandwiches in a deliberately uncouth manner and wiped his mouth on his sleeve.
"We just wanted to thank you," Dee said, "for joining our game the other night."
"Fact is," said Randall, "we were impressed." He looked to Dee, who nodded emphatically. "And Adrienne told us you might be looking for a permanent place to stay."
"So we just wanted to let you know," said Dee, "that you're welcome to stay on as long as you like."
Ripper bit into Victoria sponge. "What's the rent?"
Dee and Randall laughed, but quietly and fairly politely. "Oh, none of us pay rent," said Dee.
"But we do ask," said Randall, "that we each put cash into the household kitty sometimes, for bills and liquor and to keep us in good cheer. But it's... What's the phrase?"
"From each according to his ability, to each according to his need," said Dee.
"So while you're looking for your big break, we'll take it easy."
"But when you make it, it'll be your round," Dee said.
Ripper leant back on his chair, stretching his legs out over the pavement. Pigeons pecked around his feet. Across the street, an old lady was having trouble with the door of a hairdresser's. There was a man standing nearby at the bus-stop, but he didn't move to help.
"You've only known me a week," Ripper said. "Are you sure?"
"We're confident of our judgement of character," Randall said.
The man at the bus-stop had been on the Tube with them from Camden. He must have followed them for streets. Ripper wondered when the surveillance had returned. Why couldn't they just leave him alone?
Randall said, "What do you say?"
"I'm in," said Ripper.
Randall reached out to give him a vigourous handshake. "Welcome aboard."
17.
Ethan spent the day practising spells to lock and unlock doors. He could do the household locks easily -- indeed, he seldom used his keys any more -- so instead he wandered around the neighbourhood, looking for things he could surreptitiously tamper with. Car doors and postboxes weren't any problem. A back door to a Post Office opened at his touch. Standing on the a railway platform, he managed to unlock the briefcase of the besuited man standing next to him. But he was not made sanguine by these small triumphs: if this was all that was needed, wouldn't a standard locksmith do? What would Adrienne's friend want?
He headed home a little after the time when she'd usually be back from dinner, but she wasn't there. He wanted to know whether she had a job for him at all. He checked the kitchen and her room, the drawing room and the attic.
"If you're looking for Adrienne," said Diedre, who was sitting reading in the attic, "she's gone out. Her man in a band is playing tonight."
"I thought that was Thursday," Ethan said.
"It is Thursday," she said. "And Ethan? He's agreed to stay here. We'll have an extra for spellcasting now."
"Well," he said, "that's good. And where is he playing tonight?"
Ethan knew The Cap, if only by reputation. It was only a few streets away, but it wasn't their local, so he seldom had any reason to be there. There was a poster up outside: "Tonight - Wave Two". The pub looked pretty busy inside and, bugger it, there was a cover charge. He did a trick with some coins and came away with more than he started with. He looked through the crowd, found Adrienne at a table near the front, and went to buy both of them beer. She smiled in thanks as he sat down next to her.
"How are they?" he asked when the band paused for the interval. "Any good?"
"The drummer's good, Ripper's good and the bass guitarist is OK. Their covers are great. But their original songs?" She shook her head. "They need some better song-writing."
"So the verdict is?"
"Good for weddings and pubs," she said.
"Ah," he said.
"You'll want to know about the job," she said. She slipped him a piece of paper with a telephone number on it.
"What do they want me to do?"
"Open a few doors. It's not top-security or anything. Just a government building."
"Should I know what it's for?"
"They want some documents on money that may have been transferred between the Home Office and a local firm that we think is a front for the South African government. You unlock the doors and then you get out."
"And if I decide not to call them?"
"Then they don't know your name or how to contact you, except through me. And I trust these people, Ethan. They're doing the right thing."
"I'll try to feel reassured," he said.
"Fifty pounds up front and fifty pounds if they get the documents."
"Right," he said. That was more than he'd hoped for.
The band came back on stage, holding half-drunk glasses of beer. Adrienne waved at Ripper, who waved back.
"You should stay for the rest of the show," she said.
"No, I'll get going. I haven't had anything to eat."
"Oh, Ethan? These people don't believe in magic, so take a screwdriver with you or something."
"Fantastic," he said. "So I'll be carrying around my bag of beads and candles for the hell of it?"
She made some sort of reply, but a guitar chord drowned it out. Ethan glanced up at Ripper, shook his head, and went home.
16.
The next day, Dee and Randall took Ripper out for a meal. They caught the Tube down to Leicester Square and walked to a small ratty-looking coffee house near Covent Garden which nevertheless served a decent high tea. They sat at an outdoor table, watching the tourists watching them.
Randall insisted on paying for everything, which made Ripper feel as if he were being courted. Perhaps also, it was the odd formality of his companions' clothing: they were in full regalia, Dee in a long pink cardigan and white dress with a boa draped around her, and Randall in another of his long antique military-style coats. Ripper felt defiantly scruffy next to them in his jeans and leather jacket. He ate his cucumber sandwiches in a deliberately uncouth manner and wiped his mouth on his sleeve.
"We just wanted to thank you," Dee said, "for joining our game the other night."
"Fact is," said Randall, "we were impressed." He looked to Dee, who nodded emphatically. "And Adrienne told us you might be looking for a permanent place to stay."
"So we just wanted to let you know," said Dee, "that you're welcome to stay on as long as you like."
Ripper bit into Victoria sponge. "What's the rent?"
Dee and Randall laughed, but quietly and fairly politely. "Oh, none of us pay rent," said Dee.
"But we do ask," said Randall, "that we each put cash into the household kitty sometimes, for bills and liquor and to keep us in good cheer. But it's... What's the phrase?"
"From each according to his ability, to each according to his need," said Dee.
"So while you're looking for your big break, we'll take it easy."
"But when you make it, it'll be your round," Dee said.
Ripper leant back on his chair, stretching his legs out over the pavement. Pigeons pecked around his feet. Across the street, an old lady was having trouble with the door of a hairdresser's. There was a man standing nearby at the bus-stop, but he didn't move to help.
"You've only known me a week," Ripper said. "Are you sure?"
"We're confident of our judgement of character," Randall said.
The man at the bus-stop had been on the Tube with them from Camden. He must have followed them for streets. Ripper wondered when the surveillance had returned. Why couldn't they just leave him alone?
Randall said, "What do you say?"
"I'm in," said Ripper.
Randall reached out to give him a vigourous handshake. "Welcome aboard."
17.
Ethan spent the day practising spells to lock and unlock doors. He could do the household locks easily -- indeed, he seldom used his keys any more -- so instead he wandered around the neighbourhood, looking for things he could surreptitiously tamper with. Car doors and postboxes weren't any problem. A back door to a Post Office opened at his touch. Standing on the a railway platform, he managed to unlock the briefcase of the besuited man standing next to him. But he was not made sanguine by these small triumphs: if this was all that was needed, wouldn't a standard locksmith do? What would Adrienne's friend want?
He headed home a little after the time when she'd usually be back from dinner, but she wasn't there. He wanted to know whether she had a job for him at all. He checked the kitchen and her room, the drawing room and the attic.
"If you're looking for Adrienne," said Diedre, who was sitting reading in the attic, "she's gone out. Her man in a band is playing tonight."
"I thought that was Thursday," Ethan said.
"It is Thursday," she said. "And Ethan? He's agreed to stay here. We'll have an extra for spellcasting now."
"Well," he said, "that's good. And where is he playing tonight?"
Ethan knew The Cap, if only by reputation. It was only a few streets away, but it wasn't their local, so he seldom had any reason to be there. There was a poster up outside: "Tonight - Wave Two". The pub looked pretty busy inside and, bugger it, there was a cover charge. He did a trick with some coins and came away with more than he started with. He looked through the crowd, found Adrienne at a table near the front, and went to buy both of them beer. She smiled in thanks as he sat down next to her.
"How are they?" he asked when the band paused for the interval. "Any good?"
"The drummer's good, Ripper's good and the bass guitarist is OK. Their covers are great. But their original songs?" She shook her head. "They need some better song-writing."
"So the verdict is?"
"Good for weddings and pubs," she said.
"Ah," he said.
"You'll want to know about the job," she said. She slipped him a piece of paper with a telephone number on it.
"What do they want me to do?"
"Open a few doors. It's not top-security or anything. Just a government building."
"Should I know what it's for?"
"They want some documents on money that may have been transferred between the Home Office and a local firm that we think is a front for the South African government. You unlock the doors and then you get out."
"And if I decide not to call them?"
"Then they don't know your name or how to contact you, except through me. And I trust these people, Ethan. They're doing the right thing."
"I'll try to feel reassured," he said.
"Fifty pounds up front and fifty pounds if they get the documents."
"Right," he said. That was more than he'd hoped for.
The band came back on stage, holding half-drunk glasses of beer. Adrienne waved at Ripper, who waved back.
"You should stay for the rest of the show," she said.
"No, I'll get going. I haven't had anything to eat."
"Oh, Ethan? These people don't believe in magic, so take a screwdriver with you or something."
"Fantastic," he said. "So I'll be carrying around my bag of beads and candles for the hell of it?"
She made some sort of reply, but a guitar chord drowned it out. Ethan glanced up at Ripper, shook his head, and went home.
