EXCOLO

Delicate conversation needs delicate food, I think. And so we have pretty petits fours glacés (http://kitchenartthestoreforcooks.files.wordpress.com/2013/04/petit_feature2.jpg?w=636&h=310&crop=1) from Edmund's, and I have made some palmiers au pisto (http://www.750g.com/palmiers-au-pistou-r24782.htm) in case Mab's more in the mood for something savoury. I pick out a nice afternoon tea Alice brought home from work, and I bring the tray of things outside.

"Do you think these will lull her into a false sense of security?" I say to Hermia, raising my eyebrows gently as I set the tray down.

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"Probably not," I admit on a falling sigh. "Mab's instincts haven't changed; I'm certain she will be able to tell that we have ulterior motives to this invitation." I give Valmont's hand a small squeeze as soon as he's free of the tray, sharing comfort and drawing what little hope we can.

"But the palmiers look marvelous," I add, offering Valmont a slightly more hopeful smile. "And they smell just as good. Would it disrupt your arrangement if I had one now?"

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"You must eat whatever you like, darling," I say, "since you're eating for two." The new doctor in town said that that's a popular misconception, and that pregnant women should go on eating as before. Pfft! No baby of mine will be undernourished. I set a pastry on a plate and pass it to Hermia, then sit down myself. "I hope Mab's willing to listen, at least," I say. She was always willing to do so, but she's changed a good deal of late.

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"You must eat whatever you like, darling," I say, "since you're eating for two."

"Then I may have two palmiers," I toss back with a quick smile.

I ease myself down into the chair and slip my shoes off ever so slightly before turning eagerly to the pastry. It is lovely to have a husband who is such a good cook! And even if the new doctor scoffs at the idea of eating for two, I am quite happy to have a reason to eat more of Valmont's cooking!

"I hope Mab's willing to listen, at least."

"So do I," I say quietly, feeling my smile fade away. "I think if she will listen to anyone, she will listen to us. But…even that is uncertain, these days. If she does not…I am not certain what is left for us to do."

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I took great care with my appearance today. I always do when I know I'm going to see Hermia. Or Valmont, since he'll tell her if I look wrecked as soon as he gets home. Always make sure that I still look respectable- like I didn't just spend the night stalking around town and then woke up on my desk.

Even if it's what I've done for two weeks straight.

Jack's talking to me this week though, so that's something. I know he's disappointed in me, and I can't blame him. But he still stays, and he still takes his job seriously. But he always knows when I've had a bad string of days and it almost makes it worse when he's nice about it.
Push that to the back of my mind and take a final drag of my cigarette before I make my way around the building. Take a second before I come into their view to center myself before I step past Hermia's wards and into the calm of the garden.

"Is that Valmont's cooking I smell? Perhaps even baking?" My smile is mostly genuine.

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"I think if she will listen to anyone, she will listen to us. But…even that is uncertain, these days. If she does not…I am not certain what is left for us to do."

I reach down and squeeze Hermia's hand sympathetically, but there's no more time for discussion, as Mab is here. She's clean and tidy, which makes a difference from some of the ways I've seen her in town, but she looks tired behind her smile.

"I made some pastries," I say, smiling, "and there's cake from Edmund's - I don't try to compete with his creations." I usher her into a chair. "How are things? It's been a while since we've seen you."

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"Mab - it's good to see you." It is, truly. Apprehension flutters inside me at what we must do, but I still enjoy spending time with Mab.

Or, I enjoyed spending time with Mab as she was. There is less and less of the Mab as she was to spend time with these days.

She'll forgive me if I don't get up to greet her, but I offer a warm smile and wave from my chair as Valmont gets Mab settled.

"Is that Valmont's cooking I smell? Perhaps even baking?"
"I made some pastries," I say, smiling, "and there's cake from Edmund's - I don't try to compete with his creations."

"No, but you make your own variety of wonderful pastries," I agree with a proud grin.

"How are things? It's been a while since we've seen you."

"It must be busy at the sheriff's office," I echo. And then, more carefully, I venture, "You look tired."

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Time was, I'd have rushed over to Hermia to greet her. Maybe still on a very good day, but It feels more forced some days now, and she always knows. Better not to, and save the effort for when I say goodbye later.

Push the thought away and school my features into something nicer, happier. Snag on of the pastries Valmont has made, "Oh the usual. Late night bar fights, patrolling. The usual," pause for a second, "Well, a little more than usual. And the more folks are riled up, the more often I'm out all night."

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"Really?" I say mildly, pouring a cup of tea for Mab. "It's been busier, then? And I thought town had been quieter over the past few months. Certainly the Whitechapel has been." I take a seat next to Hermia and lift my own tea cup, sip from it. "I suppose the return of the carnival has ruffled a few feathers."

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Mab doesn't come over to hug me - or even to sit on the same side of the table. She hardly asks after us, and not after Luc at all. That's different too. How have we let all of these walls rise up between us?

One brick at a time, I suppose, so slowly that we hardly noticed them being built until suddenly we could not see over them.

Her voice is strained, her smile even more so, and her words are vague as she replies to me and Valmont.

"I'm sure that you and Jack have it all in hand. But being out all night so often…it must wear on you?" I offer gently.

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"I think the Carnival is a big factor, to be sure," I nod my thanks for the tea, and wrap my hands around it, "Nights aren't the worst. I've always preferred the legwork to the office watching. Jack's better at it than I am, any day."

Take a sip of my tea and glance around the whole garden for the first time as I realize that I haven't seen Luc yet, "So where's your little hellion, eh? Isn't he usually running loose around this time of day?"

I smile at that. I like Luc and his antics. Besides, he's an excellent distraction when Hermia starts looking concerned, which she's starting to.

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"There are few times of day when Luc isn't running around!" I laugh fondly, feeling my smile grow almost despite myself. "But he's napping now. Or he should be, at least!" I add with a sigh, and a roll of my eyes upwards at the window where I know that our son is not sleeping. "He'll be happy that you asked after him, though - he likes you a great deal."

I take another sip of tea, and press in again, still quiet, but a bit stronger, as I look up to meet Mab's eyes, "Mab, truly, are you all right?"

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"There are few times of day when Luc isn't running around!"
She laughs, and so do I, and it feels good. I haven't found myself having moments like this lately.

"Mab, truly, are you all right?"
Feel my smile freeze on my face, and almost crack. Manage to keep it fixed as I lean back in my chair and relax the muscles that her question have tensed. I'm totally prepared to wave aside her concerns. She's pregnant, and I want her to be happy, not worried about me. Isn't this protecting them?

"Not really. No," I shift in my chair, "I suppose things haven't been quite right in a while."

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A breath creeps out of me in a sigh, a breath that I did not realize I was holding. She's admitting it. She's talking about it. She isn't raging or denying or leaving. She's just…sad. And tired. So very tired, now that she lets herself show it.

I glance over at Valmont, exchanging a look of relief before I say, "I thought that might be the case." I lean forward a little - and then sideways, for there is only so far forward that I can lean at the moment! - and reach out towards Mab to take her hand. "What's wrong?" I ask simply, softly.

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I stay very still, cup of tea in hand. This seems like a quietly breathless sort of moment - one wrong move might frighten Mab away from explaining. She and I have never been close, for all I liked her and she stood as my second in that duel with Lysander - that feels so long ago now! - and so I stay quiet in case I distract her from the touch of Hermia's hand, the gentle concern in my wife's voice.

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I realize that Hermia's reaching toward me, so lean a bit and take her hand, "I'll try to explain. Can't promise it'll make the most sense, but I'll try," squeeze her fingers and collect my thoughts before I begin.

Describing it is strange, and I don't know it's hard despite our friendship, or because of it, "Before I came to Excolo I knew who I was and what my duties were. I knew what to do and when to do it, and no problem ever stopped me. And then I came here and everything just shifted on me. Suddenly I had more than just my duty," Drop my eyes and stare into my teacup, "I had friends and I didn't know how to care about them. Or take care of them. And I had problems that couldn't be easily solved. Crimes without evidence. Things I knew but couldn't prove. I couldn't arrest gods or demons and I certainly couldn't tell folk that was why I wasn't getting this done. Knowing who I was just wasn't enough anymore."

Look back up at her, "And then, all at once, I had a realization. Why did I have to prove anything? You remember when we had that terrible riot a couple years ago. The one that happened because we were giving the cannibal due- process? No one here wanted justice or reasons. They wanted safe and quiet and the bad guy stopped. I learned from that."

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I glance at Hermia. No one here wanted justice or reasons.

"The town may not," I say, very quietly, "but I think you do care about justice, Mab. How safe can any of us really be if we can't rely on receiving justice if we need it?" I sip my tea. "I've never," I confess, "been very interested in the due process of the law. I didn't grow up with it, and I've not seen it work in many places. Excolo was one of the first places I've been where the system tried to really work for the people, not just whoever was in charge - the king or the mayor or the wealthy citizens. And a lot of that is due to you and Jack."

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It would have been easier if it had been magic. A spell that I could break; a demon that needed to be slain; a legacy from her time with the Fae. But, no. It is simply human emotion - weariness, disillusionment, pain -and that is infinitely more difficult to fight.

"I never saw much of it either, before coming here," I agree, with a brief wry glance over at Valmont. Justice in Athens was a few rich men speaking to another few rich men, never to or for anyone else. "You showed us a different way. And if more people see that justice and reasons matter, then they'll learn. Some of them, at least," I have to admit, with a sour twist of my mouth. "Some never will - they won't want to listen, or look outside themselves. But some will. Those are the ones who wanted better elections, and who have been coming to you to help them find justice. Real justice, not just an easy answer. And…I think you still care about it, too," I venture, looking back up at Mab. "It wouldn't pain you so much if you didn't."

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Hermia flags for just a second when I explain. I'm sure she was wishing that it was some problem she could help me fight, not my own disillusionment.

I try to smile again, "I can't promise I'll go right back to being straight and narrow again. But I can try it. Everyone, the Town...me. We all deserve better than some of what I've been putting out there."

I finally pull my hand back for Hermia so I can sip my now-cooling tea, "Maybe it's a bit off, but I hadn't figured that anyone really noticed. You two are the first who've really questioned me on it. Guess I'm better at putting people off than I thought."

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"You do deserve better." I offer Mab a small smile, and squeeze her hand. "I can't imagine that it's a comfortable feeling, coming home every night - or morning - with the memories of what you've been doing. Trying is all that I'd ask. A feeling like the one you have…it can't be changed all at once."

I lean back as Mab pulls away - but it isn't a sharp, closed-off sort of pulling away, just the ordinary leaning back so that we can both get on with our tea. Relief is seeping back into me, taking the place of the tension - tension that has been there for much longer than I have realized, and that I only feel in its departure.

"We're not the first who have noticed," I admit quietly. "Only the first who have spoken up to you. Unless Jack has said something?" I think he must have. If I know him at all, he would have shown his unhappiness in some way, even if he did not come out and talk to Mab as we have done. "And…forgive me, please, for not having spoken up sooner. You deserve better than our silence, too. Our friendship does."

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