thisbluespirit (
thisbluespirit) wrote in
rainbowfic2020-09-27 09:35 pm
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Ecru #4 [Divide and Rule]
Name: Guilty Little Secret
Story: Divide & Rule/Heroes of the Revolution
Colors: Ecru #4 (talk)
Supplies and Styles: Eraser + Pastels (also for
genprompt_bingo square “Virtue and Vice”) + Novelty Beads (Birthday Prompt The louder a man tells you he’s honest, the harder you must hold onto your purse. - Wheel of Time, from
shadowsong26) + Graffiti (for September Secrets)
Word Count: 976
Rating: PG
Warnings: None.
Notes: Crime/detective AU (from the giant list). Edward Iveson/Julia Graves.
Summary: “Fancy meeting you here, Inspector. Such a coincidence.”
***
“Fancy meeting you here, Inspector,” said Miss Graves, arriving at Edward’s side as if out of nowhere. She was wearing a long, satin grey evening dress, trimmed with silver sequins. She cast a mischievous glance upward at him, before turning aside to study her champagne glass. “Such a coincidence. I wouldn’t have thought this was your scene.”
Edward frowned out over the ballroom where the cream of the county were busy dancing under light of the glass chandeliers. “It is when we’ve reason to fear a crime may be committed. What’s stranger is that, somehow, wherever you are, there’s also a robbery.”
“The same could be said of you,” she observed, standing close enough for him to feel her arm brushing against the sleeve of his dinner jacket. “Anyway, unless you have actual evidence on your side this time, shall we skip the usual accusations and dance?”
“I am on duty.”
Miss Graves raised her eyebrows and looked up and down at his dress suit and bow tie. “Undercover, though, surely? And one must be so careful to make a disguise truly convincing.” She held out her hand. “Allow me to assist.”
“Are you trying to distract me?”
Miss Graves smiled. “Gosh. Do you mean I could?”
Always, he thought, and turned to grasp her hand. She couldn’t entirely hide her response, an uncertain tremor passing through her.
“Shall we find out?” He shifted his grasp on her hand, her kid-gloved fingers tightening on his, as he led her out onto the dance floor. “I warn you,” he went on, “whatever it is you’re planning, we’re ready for you.” He kept his voice low as they moved through the steps of the dance.
Miss Graves looked up at him, widening her blue eyes in faux-innocence. “Me? Planning something? Who do you think I am, Inspector?”
He had her now, one hand holding hers, the other at her waist but he was beginning to feel that was an unwise move. She was still elusive, all silk and satin, impossible to hold onto. “Let’s not dress it up. I know you’re a thief.”
“You think I’m to blame for these burglaries?” said Miss Graves, her forehead furrowing. “How daring you must think me! Still, I suppose when the real culprit keeps eluding you, it must be tempting to blame someone else. Especially –” she smiled at him – “someone so close to hand.”
“Miss Graves.”
“I do hope you’re not on somebody’s payroll and aiding and abetting the real thief.”
Edward could not contain a quiver of annoyance, much as he tried to stifle it. “No, I am not, and that is a most outrageous accusation.”
“You called me a thief,” she reminded him. “Mind you,” she added, with the faintest curve to her lips, “I can understand why someone would want to part Lord Howe from his jewels. Have you ever seen someone so deserving of it? A vile man, who I’m sure has any number of people on his payroll who shouldn’t be. I’m glad to hear you’re not one of them.”
“Thank you.”
“It would be doing society a favour, really, redistributing his wealth to people who would use it for better things.” The steps of the dance brought her closer before she pulled away again. “Of course, I wouldn’t know where to begin. I’m only a guest, nothing more.”
Edward tightened his grip on her, perhaps a little too hard. “It’s still theft. You know that. You know better.”
“Oh, and Lord Howe isn’t a criminal?” she countered, inarguably. “I hear he’s committed libel, fraud and blackmail as well as sharp practice. If someone wants to get away with his belongings, I say good luck to them!”
“You’ll get caught.”
The music swelled to its climax and they stopped in front of each other, by now barely aware of anyone else in the ballroom.
Miss Graves widened her gaze. “By you, Inspector? How thrilling!”
“Not by me,” he said in an undertone, tucking his arm through hers as he led her away to the side of the room. He’d liked to have believed he would do it, but it wasn’t true. He would always be glad to find no evidence of her crimes. He wished with all his heart she’d stop these games – if only it didn’t mean never seeing her again. “Be careful, damn you. I’m warning you.”
She glanced aside, her expression sobering before she grasped his jacket and stretched up to kiss him on the cheek. For one tantalising moment, his senses were full of her: the light touch of her lips against his skin, the smell of the expensive rose-hinted scent she wore, the rustle of silk as she moved and then she let go, stepping back.
“I don’t know what I’d do if I stopped,” she murmured. “It really is no use.”
Edward blamed the unconventional setting, his undercover trappings – he’d never have been this foolish wearing his tweed work suit. He caught lightly at her wrist and, keeping her there for one last moment, “I could offer you the full protection of the law.”
“If I were anything but an innocent citizen who has never broken a law in her life,” said Julia, “I might even take you up on that. But as it is –” She gave a shrug, and slipped away from him, through the groups of people talking, and on, out through the French windows and vanishing into the night.
Upstairs, somebody yelled, and an alarm began blaring. Edward resigned himself to the fact that she had no doubt already absconded with Lord Howe’s diamonds. He should, of course, run after her, but he had no proof she had been involved. He never did.
He ought to be sorry, but he wasn’t, although it was going to be damned difficult explaining this one to the Super.
***
Story: Divide & Rule/Heroes of the Revolution
Colors: Ecru #4 (talk)
Supplies and Styles: Eraser + Pastels (also for
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Word Count: 976
Rating: PG
Warnings: None.
Notes: Crime/detective AU (from the giant list). Edward Iveson/Julia Graves.
Summary: “Fancy meeting you here, Inspector. Such a coincidence.”
***
“Fancy meeting you here, Inspector,” said Miss Graves, arriving at Edward’s side as if out of nowhere. She was wearing a long, satin grey evening dress, trimmed with silver sequins. She cast a mischievous glance upward at him, before turning aside to study her champagne glass. “Such a coincidence. I wouldn’t have thought this was your scene.”
Edward frowned out over the ballroom where the cream of the county were busy dancing under light of the glass chandeliers. “It is when we’ve reason to fear a crime may be committed. What’s stranger is that, somehow, wherever you are, there’s also a robbery.”
“The same could be said of you,” she observed, standing close enough for him to feel her arm brushing against the sleeve of his dinner jacket. “Anyway, unless you have actual evidence on your side this time, shall we skip the usual accusations and dance?”
“I am on duty.”
Miss Graves raised her eyebrows and looked up and down at his dress suit and bow tie. “Undercover, though, surely? And one must be so careful to make a disguise truly convincing.” She held out her hand. “Allow me to assist.”
“Are you trying to distract me?”
Miss Graves smiled. “Gosh. Do you mean I could?”
Always, he thought, and turned to grasp her hand. She couldn’t entirely hide her response, an uncertain tremor passing through her.
“Shall we find out?” He shifted his grasp on her hand, her kid-gloved fingers tightening on his, as he led her out onto the dance floor. “I warn you,” he went on, “whatever it is you’re planning, we’re ready for you.” He kept his voice low as they moved through the steps of the dance.
Miss Graves looked up at him, widening her blue eyes in faux-innocence. “Me? Planning something? Who do you think I am, Inspector?”
He had her now, one hand holding hers, the other at her waist but he was beginning to feel that was an unwise move. She was still elusive, all silk and satin, impossible to hold onto. “Let’s not dress it up. I know you’re a thief.”
“You think I’m to blame for these burglaries?” said Miss Graves, her forehead furrowing. “How daring you must think me! Still, I suppose when the real culprit keeps eluding you, it must be tempting to blame someone else. Especially –” she smiled at him – “someone so close to hand.”
“Miss Graves.”
“I do hope you’re not on somebody’s payroll and aiding and abetting the real thief.”
Edward could not contain a quiver of annoyance, much as he tried to stifle it. “No, I am not, and that is a most outrageous accusation.”
“You called me a thief,” she reminded him. “Mind you,” she added, with the faintest curve to her lips, “I can understand why someone would want to part Lord Howe from his jewels. Have you ever seen someone so deserving of it? A vile man, who I’m sure has any number of people on his payroll who shouldn’t be. I’m glad to hear you’re not one of them.”
“Thank you.”
“It would be doing society a favour, really, redistributing his wealth to people who would use it for better things.” The steps of the dance brought her closer before she pulled away again. “Of course, I wouldn’t know where to begin. I’m only a guest, nothing more.”
Edward tightened his grip on her, perhaps a little too hard. “It’s still theft. You know that. You know better.”
“Oh, and Lord Howe isn’t a criminal?” she countered, inarguably. “I hear he’s committed libel, fraud and blackmail as well as sharp practice. If someone wants to get away with his belongings, I say good luck to them!”
“You’ll get caught.”
The music swelled to its climax and they stopped in front of each other, by now barely aware of anyone else in the ballroom.
Miss Graves widened her gaze. “By you, Inspector? How thrilling!”
“Not by me,” he said in an undertone, tucking his arm through hers as he led her away to the side of the room. He’d liked to have believed he would do it, but it wasn’t true. He would always be glad to find no evidence of her crimes. He wished with all his heart she’d stop these games – if only it didn’t mean never seeing her again. “Be careful, damn you. I’m warning you.”
She glanced aside, her expression sobering before she grasped his jacket and stretched up to kiss him on the cheek. For one tantalising moment, his senses were full of her: the light touch of her lips against his skin, the smell of the expensive rose-hinted scent she wore, the rustle of silk as she moved and then she let go, stepping back.
“I don’t know what I’d do if I stopped,” she murmured. “It really is no use.”
Edward blamed the unconventional setting, his undercover trappings – he’d never have been this foolish wearing his tweed work suit. He caught lightly at her wrist and, keeping her there for one last moment, “I could offer you the full protection of the law.”
“If I were anything but an innocent citizen who has never broken a law in her life,” said Julia, “I might even take you up on that. But as it is –” She gave a shrug, and slipped away from him, through the groups of people talking, and on, out through the French windows and vanishing into the night.
Upstairs, somebody yelled, and an alarm began blaring. Edward resigned himself to the fact that she had no doubt already absconded with Lord Howe’s diamonds. He should, of course, run after her, but he had no proof she had been involved. He never did.
He ought to be sorry, but he wasn’t, although it was going to be damned difficult explaining this one to the Super.
***
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