fresh coffee at sunrise, warm my lips against the cup

[light_of_the_world]

The deal was all but done. The unimpressive little shop with crystals and pointless little herbal concoctions had gone into something called bankruptcy. The man selling the shop -- a real estate broker -- had explained that meant the business had no money and so, to pay off some of the people owed, the shop had to be sold.

For cheap. Cheaper, at least, than any other shopfronts on the market, which were few.

Hild had thought handing over money would be enough. She had already gone to the bank and learned what a loan was, had applied, had done the math and been sure she could make the payments, provided the business did well.

But then there were things called escrow and deeds and taxes. There were rules for how to run a business, rules set by the city for what she could sell and how the building must be kept and how she must pay and treat her employees. They all came together in a vague pattern that Hild thought she could understand, but it was a painfully slow process to stop and look up the meaning of every phrase or concept she did not understand.

She could have gone to Luke. She had already asked questions of him, learned from watching and doing. But she hadn't realized the sheer number of laws that dictated his actions. All of his actions simply made sense.

She could have gone to Luke. She could have gone to Derek. But she wanted to go to Spencer. They saw each other often; at the very least, Hild could expect to see him whenever she had a shift at the bookstore. But they had not sat down and had a proper talk, with coffee, just by themselves, in some time.

So she placed her folder full of papers, two coffees (Spencer's favorite blend, made as he liked it), and a plate filled with pastry on the table of the coffee shop, and waited for Spencer to arrive.

Comments

[light_of_the_world]

Though Spencer seemed burdened by his worries and concerns about the wedding, Hild felt nothing but certainty. Spencer and Luke fit, like a key to a lock or a tight weave to a beautiful pattern. (Perhaps that would be her wedding present to them. The memory was awful in its association, but Hild thought they of the blanket thrown over the bed of Edwin's former queen, bright poppy orange and calf-eye brown spun in a sweeping pattern. It would take her a few months to make, if she recruited Eowyn to help.)

Whatever happened, however many cakes or fonts or whatever they had to wade through, at the end of it all was their wedding, the ceremony, and all they had to do was speak a few words, make promises to each other that they had already made. All would be well. Nothing would upend that.

"I'm used to people hating me," Hild replied with a careless shrug. "But I do worry a little that she may work against me and drag her feet. She waved sage at me. Unburned, even." She lifted a brow and gave Spencer a sidelong look. The herb had many uses that Hild employed in her salves and tinctures. Though she never practiced burning and 'smudging' sage to cleanse a place before, she had learned of the practice during her studies. That the woman couldn't even be bothered to light the sage to ward Hild away was a bit insulting, even if Hild dismissed the practice as useless.

"So, escrow is good. I can see the use of it." She nodded. "But I want to begin soon. I hoped to somehow..." Licking her lips, she sighed. "Shit, I can't remember the name of it now. I want to build a small space, made of windows? Where I can place plants so they can have the sunlight but not the cold of winter. Having fresh herbs in winter would be a great help. The broker said something about.. ordinances though. That I would have to check the ordinances."

[youfeelluckypunk]

Reid arches a brow at that, but he doesn't comment on the statement because Hild doesn't appear to be looking for validation or sympathy. It's not like he's a stranger to being disliked himself, he knows people can find him off-putting for various reasons, and he'd learned to stop letting it bother him because dwelling on it had always seemed so pointless. Besides, he'd had an excellent group of teammates who'd found him valuable enough, even if they did like to tease him every now and then.

"A greenhouse," he tells her, "and the broker is right. I can help you read up on the ordinances, Darrow's list might not align with what I would've known where I'm from. We'll have to figure out the size restrictions because depending on how large you want to make yours, there might be permits required. You're within city limits, and I'm almost positive there's not going to be any issue with zoning regulations but we'll make sure."

There's a lot that goes into running a business, which Reid knows Hild is aware of, especially watching Luke manage the bookstore. It isn't an easy thing, taking on so much, but Reid admires Hild for the efforts she's already made. When they'd met, this likely wouldn't have been a feasible option for her for a lot of reasons, but she hasn't backed down from the challenge. He doubts there's a challenge she'd ever back down from, frankly.

"I know it probably feels like it's going a long time, but it does take some patience," Reid tells her, his tone slightly apologetic. "It'll be worth it in the end, though, I'm sure of it."

[light_of_the_world]

Her eyes lit up with recognition of the word, and, nodding, she mouthed it quietly, committing it to memory. Made of windows, yes, but full of greenery, as she wanted. A greenhouse.

Her mouth tightened around the edges as Spencer explained restrictions and permits, limits and zoning and regulations. So many things to worry about. She wasn't used to so many rules governing what she could and could not do, what she could build and where she could build. The king had been her only rein before -- and herself. Nothing would have stopped her from building a greenhouse at every castle and keep in Northumbria, save the scarcity of glass of course. Now rules written by men she had never met, probably men long dead, kept her from doing what she wished and for what cause?

At times, she hated writing. This would never had happened in her time, when a king made the rules and could change his mind, and the new king after him was not bound by those rules at all.

"But it's my land," she complained weakly. The sigh that followed was resigned, however, to her fate, and she tore a piece of her croissant off to eat. The principle was what bothered her, even if Spencer seemed convinced she would have no problem.

"There's a girl who works there now. She sells pot on the side." Hild looked curiously at Spencer. "Can I keep her? Or is there a rule about... stealing employees?"

[youfeelluckypunk]

"It's not yours yet," Reid reminders her cheerfully, reaching for another pastry.

He understands why Hild would be so eager, taking on something like this is a huge responsibility but it's also surely immensely satisfying. Reid has never owned a business of his own, but he sees how happy it makes Luke, and he's at least aware of how good it makes him feel to know he excels at his chosen profession. Under no circumstances can Reid see Hild doing anything but succeeding in her venture, and he's told her before that if she ever needs help then he'd be happy to come in on his days off.

"And there are rules about stealing employees, it's called poaching, but I somehow doubt that if the business she's working for now is going bankrupt that you'll have very many problems. If she's looking for a new job now that her current one is coming to an end, it might as well be with you." He pauses, narrowing his eyes. "If you want to retain her for her marijuana, though, just make sure you've got your license to sell ready. It isn't illegal, but it is still controlled. It's supposed to be, anyway."

[light_of_the_world]

She narrowed her eyes playfully in response to Spencer's too chipper reminder. She wondered if it was because she never knew her father, had no memory of him that could be considered and called true, that she saw Fursey in her male friends, the ones older than her that cared for her as Spencer and Luke did. Fursey was the closest thing she could claim to a father, in spirit, but even he, with his wine-sodden ways, was a far cry from what any child would wish to see in her father. But what he lacked in paternal traits, he made up for with a sharp mind, sharp tongue and an uncanny ability to make Hild see the error of her ways without making her feel too great a fool to learn from those mistakes.

Plucking a chocolate chip from the top of a pastry, Hild considered Spencer's words. It was his duty to keep the law, which she respected, but she wondered at those law themselves sometimes. Often times.

"She doesn't have a license," Hild said, pointing out the obvious. "And neither did the store owner before. Is it so very difficult to get a license that they took the risk without it?"

[youfeelluckypunk]

Reid arches a brow at that little revelation. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that, if only because investigating someone who's already filed for bankruptcy seems a little too cruel." The current owner is still violating the law but then again, Reid has a sneaking suspicion that Hild would try to get away with the very same thing, if she could. Besides that, the department is so short-staffed that wasting manpower on something that doesn't appear to be causing all too many problems (at least, not as far as he knows) seems rather pointless, especially since the owner is going out of business anyway.

"But no, it's not difficult at all. There might have been a lot of red tape if we weren't in Darrow but like I said, it is legal to sell here. So please, please, for me? Just get the license. And if you buy from the girl that doesn't have one for resale, just... leave that part out when you talk to me about how business is going."

[light_of_the_world]

In Hild's defense, they did not have officers of the law in her day. The king was the law, or as close as could be reckoned, using the standards of Darrow and the modern world. What the king said, was. What the king wanted, he was given. Those who tried to break the law, defy the king, were killed. Painfully. The idea that, in recompense for breaking the law, Hild only had to pay some money in most cases made the rules seem rather weak.

Spencer worked against murderers, rapists, thieves, against people who killed and took and broke for no reason but their own sick satisfaction or greed. Not honor, not self-defense, not to protect others. He helped bring their cruelties to light so that they could be punished. Not the way Hild would see them punished, but there was some kind of reckoning. There were, in Hild's estimation, leagues upon leagues separating what Spencer did from some man potentially writing her a flimsy ticket and asking her to stop selling weed until she'd filled out a form, thank you kindly.

All that being true, Hild did not have it in her to disappoint Spencer in any way, not if she could avoid it. She gave him a small smile, fond and warm enough that the roll of her eyes, to play at being forced to acquiesced, lost all strength.

"For you," she sighed. "Just because it's you." Turning her head to peruse the papers once more, she added, "For the record, I have never bought weed, illegally or otherwise." The few times she had used the herb, it had been provided to her. "I did buy alcohol for a minor once, but she needed it."

[youfeelluckypunk]

Reid opens his mouth to say something then closes it again, thinking better of it because honestly, it's not worth the argument. Besides, he trusts Hild's judgment, for the most part. Whether or not he believes alcohol is ever really "needed" is neither here nor there and in any case, the reasons for those particular beliefs are far more personal than he's willing to talk about with most people. In the end, Hild is an adult, she's her own person, and nothing Reid says or does is going to keep her from doing what she wants. Nor should it.

"Anyway," he says, deciding it's necessary to steer the conversation away from anything else that may be potentially incriminating, "you'll have my support. Luke's, too. I'll march up and down outside of City Hall handing out fliers if you need me to, I'm sure nobody would mind."

[light_of_the_world]

"No, I'm sure no one would mind the sight of either of you," Hild agreed with a fond smile. She had caught the sight of parted lips, that tension in the jaw before one began to speak something they were not sure of the reception of, but he had chosen not to put voice to the thoughts. Though she could guess and suppose at what Spencer would have said, she wanted to know in fact. Though she wished to hear him speak, however, she respected his choice not to. It probably would have spurred something more involved than either had time for, what with weddings and shops.

"But I hope word of mouth will do the trick. I have been selling things here and there, mostly at the festivals. They know my work. I must wait to see if they will buy it." She smirked faintly. "And they must, for I have to buy my friends a great gift for their wedding."