the lights don't come on when arthur waves his hand over the sensor, and he frowns a little before he shrugs and presses the button. they turn on then.
he drops his keys on the hallway table, shrugging off his jacket and undoing his tie and leaving them in a trail behind him as he goes to his study. he goes straight to the wet bar and pours himself a glass of whiskey, holding it up to the light to admire the play of it through the amber liquid. he takes a sip of it before he turns around.
and drops the glass.
it shatters on the hardwood floor, staining some of his extremely expensive imported oriental carpets. arthur doesn't even notice; the glass shatters even further under his heel as he steps forward and says disbelievingly, "caspian?"
caspian smiles a little, putting down the book he'd been leafing through when arthur came in. "i thought you'd be happier to see me," he says. "it's been, what, five years? six?"
"what," arthur says, "how -- cas, what are you -- where have you -- how did you get in here?" he has a top of the line security system. he has a top of the line security system and a personal bodyguard ever since the incidents in the sudan and also ohio.
"no one's called me cas in such a long time," caspian muses.
arthur hasn't seen caspian since harvard, not since he walked into the apartment they'd shared and found all of caspian's things gone. all the rumors that had flown around campus -- they'd both been interning at the same place in boston, and everybody at the company had been viciously, horribly glad that harvard had found out what caspian was doing and sent him packing.
first things first. arthur takes a couple of steps backwards, pours himself a second glass of brandy, and throws it back in one gulp. "how did you get in here?"
"i broke in," caspian says calmly. "which, incidentally, answers your second question, the one about where i've been." his smile is a little grim. "there aren't really all that many options available for employment when the one thing you know how to do gets ripped away from you at once."
arthur stares at him. "you're a thief," he says.
caspian grins. "precisely."
ISN'T IT JUST? and it's such a golden age narnia song, too. (look, my brain is kind of one-track.)
no subject
he drops his keys on the hallway table, shrugging off his jacket and undoing his tie and leaving them in a trail behind him as he goes to his study. he goes straight to the wet bar and pours himself a glass of whiskey, holding it up to the light to admire the play of it through the amber liquid. he takes a sip of it before he turns around.
and drops the glass.
it shatters on the hardwood floor, staining some of his extremely expensive imported oriental carpets. arthur doesn't even notice; the glass shatters even further under his heel as he steps forward and says disbelievingly, "caspian?"
caspian smiles a little, putting down the book he'd been leafing through when arthur came in. "i thought you'd be happier to see me," he says. "it's been, what, five years? six?"
"what," arthur says, "how -- cas, what are you -- where have you -- how did you get in here?" he has a top of the line security system. he has a top of the line security system and a personal bodyguard ever since the incidents in the sudan and also ohio.
"no one's called me cas in such a long time," caspian muses.
arthur hasn't seen caspian since harvard, not since he walked into the apartment they'd shared and found all of caspian's things gone. all the rumors that had flown around campus -- they'd both been interning at the same place in boston, and everybody at the company had been viciously, horribly glad that harvard had found out what caspian was doing and sent him packing.
first things first. arthur takes a couple of steps backwards, pours himself a second glass of brandy, and throws it back in one gulp. "how did you get in here?"
"i broke in," caspian says calmly. "which, incidentally, answers your second question, the one about where i've been." his smile is a little grim. "there aren't really all that many options available for employment when the one thing you know how to do gets ripped away from you at once."
arthur stares at him. "you're a thief," he says.
caspian grins. "precisely."
ISN'T IT JUST? and it's such a golden age narnia song, too. (look, my brain is kind of one-track.)