Magdalene Grace Garcia (
talesuntold) wrote in
triangularity2015-10-08 04:36 pm
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for Stefan
Maggie spends the first part of the evening on her laptop, liveblogging in one chat window and using the other half of the screen to monitor threads on her section of the After the End Times forum. Maggie's good with people. She never minds a turn on forum duty, and as a beta on the site, she pays her dues just like everyone else who isn't a department head. It's a refreshing change, actually, to have an entirely merit-based system where her last name doesn't mean a thing.
As the first movie winds down, Maggie sets aside the computer, standing up and stretching. She did look around enough to take stock of the room. Almost everyone here is a regular. She knows all of their food and drink preferences, and she fully expects a couple to stay for half the week.
So of course it's the newcomer who caught her attention. He seemed amused by the movie, and she agreed with him on this one. Funny how a horror movies aren't scary at all when the world has turned into one.
Whoever invited him probably pointed her out to Stefan. Maggie got his name from the security scans at the door, but she isn't especially worried about strangers in her house either way. She tosses the remote to another Fictional, letting him take over and set up the next movie.
Stefan's the only one who needs to tell her what he wants, which makes him the logical choice for help fetching it. Maggie makes her way across the room, leans over one arm of the couch, and and introduces herself, probably unnecessarily. "I'm Maggie. Help me carry snacks from the kitchen?"
As the first movie winds down, Maggie sets aside the computer, standing up and stretching. She did look around enough to take stock of the room. Almost everyone here is a regular. She knows all of their food and drink preferences, and she fully expects a couple to stay for half the week.
So of course it's the newcomer who caught her attention. He seemed amused by the movie, and she agreed with him on this one. Funny how a horror movies aren't scary at all when the world has turned into one.
Whoever invited him probably pointed her out to Stefan. Maggie got his name from the security scans at the door, but she isn't especially worried about strangers in her house either way. She tosses the remote to another Fictional, letting him take over and set up the next movie.
Stefan's the only one who needs to tell her what he wants, which makes him the logical choice for help fetching it. Maggie makes her way across the room, leans over one arm of the couch, and and introduces herself, probably unnecessarily. "I'm Maggie. Help me carry snacks from the kitchen?"
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He remembers when these films first premiered, and watching them in the dark of a theater surrounded by crowds. The crowd's different here: more vulnerable. He could almost smell the fear - but the movie was far more amusing than he remembered, and he has to put a hand to his mouth to keep from laughing at inappropriate moments.
"Uh, sure," He says, blinking back surprise as he looks at her. "I'm Stefan. Zara's family and I go way back."
By which he means, he was friends not only with Zara but also her mother, her grandmother, and quite possibly every maternal ancestor that girl had for the past couple of centuries. Rising to his feet, he glances towards the door. "How long do these festivals usually last, by the way?"
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Her dogs are well trained and all respond to their names, which is a blessing, because there's no real getting away from them in Maggie's house.
"I know everyone else's favorites, which is why you get to help. What would you like? The kitchen's stocked with pretty much everything, though I like a little notice for elaborate requests." Anything that takes more than fifteen or twenty minutes of active prep time, Maggie prefers to have done before people show up for movie nights.
Maggie had the coffeemaker and the teakettle set on timers, so there's fresh coffee and hot water now. The kitchen smells like coffee and popcorn, because she has some of the latter left from her first batch. Wine bottles are visible in a rack on one wall, and the cabinet she opens to prepare tea has a lot more containers than can be counted at a glance. (Not the five hundred kinds she's been accused of having, but a lot.) She pulls three of them down without stopping to browse, though she leaves the cabinet open in case Stefan wants to. Maggie has mugs on the counter with three kinds of tea steeping in them in infusers before she turns back to Stefan.
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Film festivals've changed a lot, Stefan thinks as he glances down at one of the bulldogs. But then again, the whole world's changed too - it would make sense that the festivals too would morph to suit the needs of the people. He nods, glancing back at some of the guests (and his family friend, already half-asleep) before following her towards the kitchen.
"Coffee's fine. If there's milk, I'll take that too," he says, though his eye catches the wine bottles first. As much as he drinks these days, there're still some instances where caffeine'll stave off the hunger better.
Already, he reaches for a tray to better carry the mugs they'll inevitably bring back to everyone. After a moment of hesitation, he has to ask, "You know everyone's exact order? No bringing extra milk or sugar in?"
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"Almond, rice, soy, or non-dairy creamer?" Maggie asks. She doesn't have any meat or biproducts from mammals here, which makes regular milk in rather short supply. She's already taking two bottles out of the fridge, adding almond milk to one mug and soy to another. "We can, but I bet they won't use it. My memory's good. I don't like living alone, so I lure people in with movies and keep them here by being an excellent hostess."
She has two kinds of cookies baked too, and uncovers both of those plates.
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He leans against the counter, feeling like he should help a little bit more than he is - but he also isn't psychic. Or a longtime regular. Unless Maggie gives him a bit more direction, he's kind of the tag-along guy.
"It's a pretty devious plan, if I say so. Give them great movies and great food, and they'll be here as long as you want them."
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And a town that only exists because Maggie's parents put a lot of money into keeping it going after the Rising. The fisheries were a good incentive, but not enough of one. The Garcias own enough interest in the local businesses that Maggie isn't exaggerating when she says the grocery store will stock absolutely any food she requests, though she'll pay a lot for the rarer commodities.
"I am rather fond of it, as plans go. It helps that I can work from anywhere I have a laptop, as can the writers from my team. Sometimes I just put coworkers up here for a week or two instead of sending them back to their own homes." Newsies and Irwins have to go out and find or make the news. Fictionals? They just have to write, and preferably keep abreast of current events so their work is topical enough to gain an audience.
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He means it too. After all, a guy still requesting cow's milk in this day and age is a little bit of a sore thumb - and a guy like Stefan can't afford to stick out much.
"That's pretty convenient," he admits, with a hint of a smile on his face. "I've read some of your stuff, by the way. It's pretty impressive."
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In her own home, Maggie was relaxed and wholly sincere. Stepping back into the public eye as a representative of Garcia Pharmaceuticals is like stepping into a role. Her posture straightens. Her smile is more polite and fixed, though she does an excellent job at coming off as warm and interested. She pays close attention to everyone, analytically, judging their intentions and attitudes as much as their ideas and pitches. Maggie memorizes anything she thinks ought to be run past one of the research department heads, as close to word-for-word as she can. She's picked up enough terminology over the years that it isn't as hard as it could be.
The difference from her usual facial expressions is even more obvious when she catches sight of Stefan over someone's shoulder and breaks character with her first real smile of the day. She catches his eye and nods a greeting, hoping he'll wait a few minutes for her. Her smile only dims a little as she dutifully finishes listening to the summary of this doctor's research before making her escape.
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Stefan'll never earn a medical degree; it's too risky, with potential blood loss outing him to the rest of the world. No, he has a master's (and a Ph.D, although that was earned a few decades ago) and that's more than enough for him.
Once Maggie joins him, though, he can't quite help the smile tugging on his face. "Long time no see, Ms. Garcia. How's it going so far?"
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Rescue her, please. Some of the research she's heard about today actually sounds like exactly the sort of projects her family would want to back, for either positive impact on the medical field or financial reasons. She even likes several of the doctors personally, having run into them at any number of events over the years. She just needs a break. Short of going back to the hotel and ordering room service, breaks from scrutiny or people wanting things are in short supply for a Garcia.
It was such a relief to find someone who appreciates her writing, someone Maggie knows values her on her own merits and for her own work, rather than just as the Garcia heiress and a means to an end. She wasn't expecting the immediate lessening of tension in her shoulders.
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"Sure," he says, walking in-step with her. "I was getting pretty hungry myself."
Lies. Beautiful, blissful lies, because his family friend's giving him confused looks (and it's all he can do to mouth `I'll see you later`) as he follows Maggie into the cafeteria. Hazel Gilbert'll be fine. She has her mother's charm, and more importantly, her mother's family friends roaming around. She doesn't need a protector as much as Maggie seems to right now.
But he can't quite help teasing, "Speaking of funding and research and all that fun stuff, I'm giving one of the presentations tonight. If you're mysteriously free, you should drop by."
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He gets a grateful smile when he agrees and immediately turns to go with her. Maggie does notice him mouthing something to the woman he was with, though. "I hope I wasn't interrupting." Everyone here is here for a reason, after all, and Stefan wasn't alone.
Then he mentions his own work and Maggie laughs, low and warm. "I wouldn't miss it. Maybe I'll even let you give me the highlights now, once I have food in front of me."
Give her a few minutes to talk about anything but the family business, then she'll be back on track for the day. She had been wondering what Stefan was doing here anyway, and it's always nice to hear details in one-on-one conversation rather than big presentations.
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Stefan can't blame her for wanting a few minutes alone and away from medicine; it's on everyone's minds here. For good reason, since he assumes these people only meet up once a year (and then maybe more, if they're at other conferences). It's a chance for like-minded individuals to get feedback and learn and grow. Or get money. Whatever works.
"Only if you want," he says, completely meaning it. "Hazel and I've been continuing her mother's work, so it was important for me - for us - to bring it over here."
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wow this got lost in tag mountain
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Her hair is still down and straightened, but the dress she has on by the time Stefan gets to her hotel is soft and clinging and not a bit uptight and professional. Date clothes, if very comfortable ones.
She clears his arrival with the hotel staff rather than coming down to meet him in the lobby herself. This isn't the Agora, and privacy isn't as highly valued here. Maggie opens the door to her room with a warm smile and steps forward to hug him. "Hello, Stefan."
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Before knocking on her door, he exhales slowly. It's just a date. One night to forget about his medical work, one night to maybe feel human again, and one night to enjoy a special room service picnic with an equally special woman.
(Wealth has never been Stefan's concern, not when he had invested his family's fortune as wisely as he could - he didn't need the Garcia's power or influence, though he wouldn't outright deny it either.)
"Hey, Maggie," he says as he rushes into her arms. "Can I come in?"
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"Was the hug not welcome enough?" Maggie asks, and kisses Stefan on the cheek before stepping aside to let him past. "I think you'd better come in, now that you're here."
Luxury hotel suites are par for the course for Maggie. Stefan has seen her in her own, admittedly nice, but cluttered and comfortable, home. The room is huge, with a living room and bedroom and hot tub in it. She didn't request a small kitchen this time solely because she knew she wouldn't feel like cooking after long days at the conference.
Maggie heads straight for the couch, settling down in one corner and folding her legs under her.
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Notably, he doesn't take in the space beyond a cursory glance of where everything is. This is a man who isn't fazed by luxury; he might even be accustomed to it. (His own room back at the conference hotel is a lot smaller, on account of him preferring not to spend more if he can help it. He doesn't exactly compel himself into hotels unlike a certain older brother.)
Following her in, he kicks his shoes off and sits on the couch beside her.
“So this is where they've put you up,” he comments, pulling one leg up under him. “I think we've got room for an actual picnic.”
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"I usually do. My mother even claims I was conceived in a luxury hotel suite. Granted, I think she said it in hopes I'd never have sex in one, but..." Maggie grins mischievously and shrugs. "That ship sailed awhile ago."
She turns sideways, leaning against the arm of the couch to look at him. "How has your day been, Stefan?"
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"Day's been good. You know, same old, same old - giving presentations, listening to talks. This, right here? This is legitimately the highlight of my entire conference."
Stefan should've honestly expected her to attend, given the influence the Garcias had, but some small part of him had always thought they'd send a representative. Never, ever in a million years would he have guessed that Maggie herself would've deigned to visit.
"Next time you're going to one of these, you should tell me. I'll act as your translator."
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Tonight, Maggie and Stefan were ostensibly setting up for her next movie festival. Ostensibly, because in true Maggie fashion, she had dropped hints that she wanted him to spend the night, and Stefan couldn't deny his instincts any longer. He felt something for her, and maybe it was time he told her the truth. Before either of them fell in deeper. Before he couldn't ignore why he wasn't aging any further, let alone why he often moved and resettled.
As they're organizing the list of movies to play, he leans over her shoulder and murmurs, “If you're taking suggestions, maybe we should hold off on all the Sherlock films.”
When he's a living mystery, it becomes a lot less fun to solve someone else's.
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She takes a very tiny step backward, leaning into Stefan. "I don't always take suggestions, but that's easily managed. You aren't fond of mysteries, or is it Sherlock himself that you have an objection to?"
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So he relaxes into her touch, trying to fight the smile on his face. "A bit of both, I think." He pauses, for half a second. "But if it's that important, maybe you could convince me otherwise."
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"I don't feel any need to. Not tonight, anyway." Tonight she wants Stefan as happy and comfortable as possible. She shifts and turns her head to crane around for a kiss to his cheek.
"I wouldn't want to risk chasing you off or spoiling your night." She says it lightly enough that it at least seems like a joke, but she's also serious. Maggie knows it would take much more than a poor movie choice to make Stefan leave, but she wants this to be a very good night.
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Sure, they've had a few dates by now, and more than a few raunchy emails, but when he's with Maggie, he feels a safety and comfort he hasn't found anywhere else. He would know: he's scoured the entire country, before and after the Rising. Even his beloved Church can't still his heart like one of her kisses.
(He supposes, there are worse altars to worship than Maggie's.)
"In all seriousness, what theme should we stick to?"
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gif warning
Re: gif warning
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