"...Ah. A hell unicorn." Helen tests the mere idea of it on her lips. Then she tilts her head with her eyebrows raised, shrugging slightly. Why not? He has had enough in her life that is certainly odd enough. Hell is a dimension she has long let him deal with and explain.
A laugh. "Now, if only the Prime Minister and King Edward had seen it that way."
There's a playful roll of her eyes. If only that meeting with the Prime Minister had gone over so keenly. It was rather the opposite. Threats, really. Nigel and Druitt had records of their own that the police could of used. James had been the only one in good standing. As for herself? Well, they had pretended to turn an eye away from the Sanctuary because it worked within the realm of public security. Though they were willing to shut it down if they hadn't co-operated with them.
His question makes her expression soften and a small smile tug at her mouth. A right old pair indeed. A pair that is never quite honest with their feelings or intentions. Which leaves her feeling rather guilty at times like this. She returns to him, folding her skirt under her legs in order to sit across from him on the coffee table. That in itself is rather odd, given how much of a stickler she is for proper manners and etiquette. Her hands fold in her lap as small sigh leaves her.
If he's to get up and run off, she supposes it might as well be now.
"John..." her lips press together. One would think that after a hundred and fifty years, she'd be far better at this. "I am more than aware that this sort of festivity is far outside what you consider comfortable. You have my gratitude for soldiering on through it for my sake. As well as an explanation."
Her gaze drops. She prides herself on being so put together and emotions tucked away as they need to be. The picture perfect ideal of Keep Calm and Carry On. Stiff upper lip of English tradition. It's times like this that truly show how out of time she is. Vulnerability is hardly something that comes natural.
"It used to be that several of the residents would help decorate the Sanctuary," she practically forces herself to say. "Then, when I had Ashley... it became our tradition. Even when she became a teenager? She'd always look forward to at least decorating my office with the family ornaments. This year... I suppose I simply needed some company to keep the tradition going."
Her adopted family were all with their own families or other acquaintances this particular day. Helen hardly had the heart to find a reason to keep any of them present in the building to indulge her loneliness of the season. So, she had reached out to John, with every expectation he'd say 'No thank you, love, I don't do the holidays.'
He certainly finds ways to surprise her every time.
no subject
A laugh. "Now, if only the Prime Minister and King Edward had seen it that way."
There's a playful roll of her eyes. If only that meeting with the Prime Minister had gone over so keenly. It was rather the opposite. Threats, really. Nigel and Druitt had records of their own that the police could of used. James had been the only one in good standing. As for herself? Well, they had pretended to turn an eye away from the Sanctuary because it worked within the realm of public security. Though they were willing to shut it down if they hadn't co-operated with them.
His question makes her expression soften and a small smile tug at her mouth. A right old pair indeed. A pair that is never quite honest with their feelings or intentions. Which leaves her feeling rather guilty at times like this. She returns to him, folding her skirt under her legs in order to sit across from him on the coffee table. That in itself is rather odd, given how much of a stickler she is for proper manners and etiquette. Her hands fold in her lap as small sigh leaves her.
If he's to get up and run off, she supposes it might as well be now.
"John..." her lips press together. One would think that after a hundred and fifty years, she'd be far better at this. "I am more than aware that this sort of festivity is far outside what you consider comfortable. You have my gratitude for soldiering on through it for my sake. As well as an explanation."
Her gaze drops. She prides herself on being so put together and emotions tucked away as they need to be. The picture perfect ideal of Keep Calm and Carry On. Stiff upper lip of English tradition. It's times like this that truly show how out of time she is. Vulnerability is hardly something that comes natural.
"It used to be that several of the residents would help decorate the Sanctuary," she practically forces herself to say. "Then, when I had Ashley... it became our tradition. Even when she became a teenager? She'd always look forward to at least decorating my office with the family ornaments. This year... I suppose I simply needed some company to keep the tradition going."
Her adopted family were all with their own families or other acquaintances this particular day. Helen hardly had the heart to find a reason to keep any of them present in the building to indulge her loneliness of the season. So, she had reached out to John, with every expectation he'd say 'No thank you, love, I don't do the holidays.'
He certainly finds ways to surprise her every time.