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Library, Monday

As promised, Gabrielle arrived bright and early at the library on the first day of her new shift and before doing anything else (well, setting the scroll she was working on down at the front desk) got the first of two pots of coffee brewing. Nobody had ever told her how much coffee to use, and the instructions about scoops that she'd read on the back of the first can she'd looked at sometime early last semester were not terribly helpful when that can hadn't had a scoop in it, so . . . she used a lot, dumping the grounds straight from the can into the filter with what she thought was a fairly practiced eye by now.

There was something awfully fitting about starting off the first week of a new year -- by this era's standards, not hers at home -- and a new semester in the library, in her opinion.

And the smell of the coffee made it seem a little cozier, which was nice; it hadn't been cold at all while she'd been home for break.

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She is around all day, and does not have to skip out for class.

Bobby arrived sometime in the early afternoon, with a mission that was twofold: one, to visit Gabrielle. Two, to actually (gasp) check out a book or two.

"I was wondering," he said thoughtfully, as he approached the collections desk. "If the lovely library assistant could maybe, well... assist me?"

Gabrielle set her parchment and quill aside and stood, placing her hands flat on the desk and leaning forward. "It's possible she could. They do say flattery will get you everywhere . . . I'm not entirely sure about everywhere, but it can at least help you make inroads."

She liked to think she was clever. She was certainly perky, and she'd had half a pot of that coffee already.

"Now," she added, gesturing with her index finger, "if you happen to be talking about this particular library assistant, I can assure you she'd be more than happy to do that, flattery or not. Oh, but don't let that stop you if you're, say, having a hard time holding those compliments in."

"Lovely and generous!" Bobby exclaimed. "I may have hit the library-assistant-jackpot here."

Yeah, flattery could sometimes get you a long way ~~not dirty not dirty not dirty no rly~~ with Gabrielle, particularly if you happened to be a puppy-faced boy.

"How do you know I'm not making special exceptions just for you, Bobby?" she asked. Psst, Gabrielle, it's your job description. No, actually, she knew that.

"Well, if you were, the fact that you're willing to make exceptions would just make you more generous, right?" By some... convoluted thread of logic, sure.

"You make excellent points," Gabrielle said, grinning. "But I think we'll leave the answer to that a mystery for now. What kind of assistance did you need?"

"I need textbooks," he said, with the reluctant sigh of someone who was seeking such a thing out of necessity, not out of any great desire to expand his educational horizons.

"Bobby, we must have at least a thousand of those." Gabrielle wasn't complaining, really, more like teasing him, but honestly now. "Could you maybe be a little more specific? And enthused. Enthusiasm would help."

"It's kind of hard to be enthusiastic about accounting, Gabby," Bobby made a face.

"Why would you want to do that?" Gabrielle asked, making a face to match but mostly at the nickname. It wasn't as if she and Xena ever really had more than about 40 dinars to rub together at any given time.

Gabby, Bobby, it rhymed and had slipped out without him really thinking about it. He shrugged. "I don't, really, but it's the family business and what my dad wants for me." And right now it sounded a hell of a lot better than being a superhero.

"I've heard that before." The textbooks could wait a little while. Gabrielle narrowed her eyes and looked at him thoughtfully. "I don't doubt that your father only means well, Bobby, but what about what you want? If you're going to tell me that this is it, you'll need to sell it better than that."

"What I want is a normal life," he said, and that much, at least, he was pretty vehement about. "And something like this? It's just, you know. Part of that package."

A normal life was the last thing Gabrielle had wanted. It was why she'd run away from home, after all, but she had no trouble understanding why someone else would want that.

Normal was relative, anyhow.

"There has to be something else, though," she persisted. "Something you love. You can't just . . . just do what you're expected to do and be miserable in the process, or what's the point, and what do you mean, anyway? Your life doesn't seem that out of the ordinary to me."

"I'm good at math, though," Bobby admitted. "And my other talents? Well, there's nobody out there who's gonna pay me to use 'em, let me put it that way." Oh so neatly (or so he figured, anyway) sidestepping the question about the relative normality of his life.

"So you're going to let them go to waste?" This is what you get for talking to a stubborn idealist, Bobby. "Whatever they are? That doesn't seem right."

"I didn't say that!" Bobby said defensively. "It's just that... it's not a useful talent. I can't make a living off it. Doesn't mean I'm gonna ignore it." He couldn't ignore it, really, thank you weird biology.

"Being a bard isn't terribly profitable either," Gabrielle pointed out mildly, taking the empathy tack that always worked so well for her. "At least not for me. That doesn't mean it's not useful. You call it a talent -- that means it's useful by default. Even if it doesn't pay. The important part is putting it to use where it'll make a difference to someone."

Aw. Didn't you just want to pat her on the head?

Well, now she sounded like Scott.

"What if it's dangerous?" he asked. "This talent, I mean?" You know. Hypothetically.

. . . you're talking to the girl who runs around with the Warrior Princess, Bobby. Not that we expect you to know that.

"That's always a possibility." Gods knew she'd talked herself into trouble more times than she could count, and that was before she even factored in things like Xena's cut-off-the-flow-of-blood-to-your-brain neckpinch and mad chakram skills. "But that doesn't rule out the possibility that you can use it for good."

Gabrielle still believed everything could be used for good.

"Maybe," Bobby allowed grudgingly. "But good doesn't have to mean running around being a hero."

...Nobody said it did, Bobby. That's aaaaaaall you.

"No," Gabrielle conceded. "But what's wrong with that?"

Xena would disagree with the 'hero' assessment, but much to her frequent chagrin Gabrielle pinned it on her anyway, especially in her scrolls. "Personally, I think it's fun. Its own reward, too."

"Why am I not surprised?" Bobby said, cracking a smile at Gabrielle's assertion.

Gabrielle twirled her quill between her fingers and gave him an encouraging grin. "Am I really that predictable, Bobby?"

"Maaaaybe?" he drawled. "Is that a bad thing?"

"Only sometimes," she decided. Like when she was trying to sneak up on Tahiri, for example.

If you don't want to deal with the chatty bard.

For Henry, when he pings in!

Henry nodded a greeting at Gabrielle as he came in, then went back to his office to try to start sorting through the warren of paperwork. He was convinced he'd get the top of his desk clean by the end of his first week, if he didn't run away crying first.

The coffee was ... strong. Definitely strong. But drinkable, and warming in January. And, hey, he hadn't had to make it, so that was good.

I am clearly thinking far too much about my own coffee this morning. BLESSED CAFFEINATED BEANS.

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Library, Monday

Talk to Gabrielle

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Mod Thy Library Usage

Talk to the Librarian

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OOC