fandomhigh | Library, Monday [6/28]

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Library, Monday [6/28]

It was break week, yes, and maybe Gabrielle didn't have to be in the library today but she was, a piece of parchment in Xena's scrawling hand dangling from her fingers as she went about her morning chores. The parchment ended up spread out on the desk in front of her once she was done tidying and reshelving, but the preoccupied look of concern on Gabrielle's face didn't go away then.

Quite the opposite, in fact; she looked even more preoccupied and worried, the longer she read over the letter. And there was a lot of re-reading the letter interspersed with periods where she'd jump up from the desk, spend a few frantic minutes tidying some section of the stacks or checking on the coffee supplies, go back to the letter, then leap up to find something else to do.

And she hadn't even had any of the coffee this morning.

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Because at the rate she's going today, your odds of actually catching Gabrielle long enough to talk might not be great.

Spaztastic bard is spaztastic.

If he decided to come in during the break week!

Spaztastic me is also likely to be spaztastic today. Don't say I didn't warn you.

"Gabrielle," Henry greeted as he walked into the library. "I wasn't sure if anybody else would be here during break week. Having fun?"

"We meet again," Peter said as he walked up to Gabrielle's location. He didn't need help finding books, but he did want the chance to speak with her again.

"So," he said. "Any outbreaks of singing and dancing librettos? Action novels shooting off across the shelves?"

Gabrielle looked up from the parchment in front of her quickly, like someone had jerked her head up, and blinked a couple of times.

"Oh, hi, Mister De Tamble. I -- I'm actually getting a few things squared away here before I go home for a bit. It's Xena, I think she needs me. She won't say so, of course, but I know her. I can tell. I may be away for a while, and I didn't want to leave things a mess, and . . ."

Agitated, she trailed off. "I'm sorry. I'm just worried."

And babbly, but that was normal.

"Not today, not that I've noticed," Gabrielle said, still distracted; she definitely looked distracted when she finally looked up at him. "I think the library may be taking it easy today too . . . hi, Peter."

Henry blinked a bit -- at the worried tone, not at the babbling. "Take as long as you need," he said automatically, hands jammed into the pockets of his jeans. "Books'll stay here. Got any idea how long you'll be gone?"

"That's the problem, I never know," Gabrielle answered, unconsciously rolling the edge of the parchment up tightly, unrolling it, then rolling it back up again. "It could be a couple of days, or longer, and I don't know how much time will pass here while I'm there. Just to be on the safe side, though, I think I'd better say until the end of summer."

She thought she'd spent far too much time away from Xena as it was, and had better make up for it. There was nothing codependent about that friendship at all, really.

"Guess even libraries need a week off," Peter said. "Hi Gabrielle. I don't suppose you could answer a question I have about the special collections, could you?"

"Is it a question I can answer by saying 'don't go in there?'" Gabrielle asked, not as promptly as she might usually have picked up on that bit of banter.

Henry couldn't entirely stop a wince from rising to his eyes. He rolled with the punches, really he did, but losing a student for two months was not going to be fun. He'd have to make his own coffee.

"I see," he said. "Well, if your friend needs you, that's where you should be."

"Don't go in there?" Peter repeated, eyebrow raised. "Something tells me there's some history behind that declaration. Or one hell of a reverse psychology fake-out."

Considering the way Gabrielle tended to make coffee (which was to say somewhat haphazardly, ranging from mild-pick-me-up to industrial-paint-stripping), it might not be too stinging a loss?

"I'm really sorry," Gabrielle told him, earnestly. "I can't explain, really, I just have to."

The important thing, alas, was less the quality of the coffee and more its sheer presence.

"No, no, I understand that," Henry said, slouching a bit. "Stay safe and take care of your friend, and the books and I will await your return."

"I'm not sure what that means," Gabrielle told him, because if someone had inadvertently invented psychology in her time they had yet to put a name to it. "All I know is every now and then I think I hear some disturbing noises behind that door."

Oh. Well, then.

"You will?" Gabrielle hadn't yet gotten around to asking about that part; it'd been a concern, but on her list of priorities nothing was wrestling first place away from a certain reformed warlord. Possibly ever. Still, a little of the concern drained out of her expression. "That is, I mean, I hate to leave you short-handed, and I'd love to come back and work here again when I get back."

She looked down at the parchment, the rolled-up edge of it now about a breath away from being in absolute tatters, but managed a smile when she looked back up. "And . . . thank you, for understanding."

"Disturbing how?" Peter said. "Because right now you're just making me curious. Not curious enough to risk my life, but curious."

"Well, not exactly like a minotaur or a sea monster . . . maybe more like some trick of Sisyphus's," Gabrielle mused, not terribly helpfully. "Anyway, you'd need permission from a teacher to get in there. There's some really rare and . . . you had a question, didn't you?"

Yes, Gabrielle. Thanks for finally remembering.

"I've had to take some time off on short notice myself," Henry half-explained. "People were nice about it, so I always figured I'd pay it forward. Don't worry about it."

He glanced to the scrunched parchment. "... or about anything else, too much."

"It was actually about the sort of material in there," Peter said. "Whether you thought it'd be worth the hassle to get a permission slip to go exploring."

Gabrielle's forehead wrinkled in confusion for a moment before she looked at the parchment. "Well, I can't really help that, until I see for myself how she is. But -- that'll happen soon enough. For now I may as well do what I can to make sure this place is in order before the new kids show up." She laughed, self-consciously. "It'll give me something slightly more productive to do with my hands."

"Some of the stuff in there isn't the kind of stuff you want to just go poking at," Gabrielle cautioned; she loved an adventure as much as anyone, but Special Collections was, well . . . special. "You think the rest of the library has a mind of its own? Ha! Special Collections makes it look like . . . like a regular puppy next to Cerberus."

She sure seemed to like her mythological metaphors, Peter thought. But then again, he figured, that was probably the pop culture references of her time.

"So it's not only dangerous, it can bite you twice while still having an extra head to do whatever else it feels like doing," Peter said. "Got it. So better to have a real goal rather than just general research. Good to know."

"And did I mention people can get lost in there?" Gabrielle blustered on. "Literally. Someone got thrown in there months ago and we haven't seen him since. Of course, that was sort of the point, but . . ."

Peter opened his mouth. Then closed it. Then opened it again before finally saying. "The school threw someone in there like it was a prison?"

That was too weird. Just too freaking weird.

"That would be," Henry said, a touch of irony in his voice, "greatly appreciated. I'll be in my office if you need me."

"I'll stop in to say goodbye before I go," Gabrielle agreed, and pushed the parchment away with a guilty look, then stood to go take care of a little reshelving.

"That's what I was told. I'm not so sure I like the idea of him being in there with the books, but . . ." Gabrielle frowned. "Well, it seems to have worked so far."

"Yeah, the more I hear, the less I want to wander in there," Peter said. "So if your job is to keep people out, you're doing pretty well."

He shook his head. "So how have you been, any way?"

Gabrielle sighed. "I'm all right. At least, I have been. But I need to go home for a while, it looks like."

"You could always put a few bets on the Trojan war while you're there," Peter said. "Make a killing on the spread."

Oh, Peter.

"Too late for that," Gabrielle told him. "I was there at the end of it."

Peter snapped his fingers, an 'awww shucks' gesture. "Can't win them all, I guess," he said. Then his curiosity got the best of him. "So, did you volunteer to come in today, or are you just that driven to work?"

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Library, Monday [6/28]

Mod Your Library

Talk to Gabrielle

Talk to the Librarian

OOC [Library 6/28]

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