2014.01.06 - Special Delivery

After her little 'meeting' with the Trickster God, Loki, at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, Fern Fiddlehead immediately collected her coat, calling the company car on her cell. "Hey, Charlie.... yeah, it's kinda boring, wanna come around to the front and get me?" She didn't let on the real reason she was leaving so early, but instructed Charlie to take her directly to Justin's house by the fastest route possible. 
 
Fern had already intended to check in on her boss and see how he was feeling after the Museum affair, so she's just going to be earlier than she had expected. She called ahead, letting Hammer's house staff know she was going to arrive, leaving it up to them whether to disturb the man now, or just leave it to her when she gets there. 
 
As soon as the Town Car pulls up to the curb, Fern is reaching for the door handle, not waiting for Charlie to come around. He's grown used to that from her, and doesn't rush, never winning the game. "Thanks, Charlie. If you wouldn't mind being on call for a bit yet, I don't think I'll be very long." Holding her long gown up off the sidewalk, Fern hurries to the door, looking something akin to Cinderella, except with both shoes. 
The Monday after the holidays ended up being only a half day for the Hammer Industries CEO, who came down with a mild cold. However, if one were to ask him, he was dying from some terrible ailment that would surely wipe out humanity. As such, Justin's plans for attending the art museum exhibition opening with his PA Fern were canceled, and he had sent the young woman by herself with instructions to have a good time. He remained home, watching TV while laying on the couch covered in not one, but two blankets.
Jack, Hammer's sometimes assistant, sometimes butler and driver, had taken Fern's call and was waiting to buzz her into the house as soon as she arrived. The last thing he wanted was for her to have to wait in the bitter cold and end up sick herself. Once the young woman is safely inside the heated home, he greets her. "Good evening, Fern. How was the opening? Good, I hope."
Fern shrugs out of her coat, turning it over to the man, then, in a move not very Fern-like, adjusts the bodice of the gown she wears. "It was very interesting, Jack," she says diplomatically. Even though she's a little panicking inside, her demeanor shows none of that. Well, except for a slight flush in her cheeks. "Is he awake? Has he been taking the medicine I got at the drugstore?" She didn't have much time before she had to get ready for the museum event, but what time she had she fussed over the CEO. 
Jack takes Fern's coat, carefully placing it in the coat closet near the front entry. The color in the redhead's cheeks is dismissed as a side effect of the cold, and Jack thinks nothing of it. "Not sure, but I believe so. He's eaten probably half the bottle of the vitamin C and zinc tablets you brought over, at least." The butler-slash-driver motions toward the grand staircase. "He's in the living room, watching television. Go ahead and head up."
 
Again, in Cinderella fashion, Fern gathers up her skirt and hurries up the stairs, high heels clicking lightly, perhaps even warning Justin of her impending arrival. With just the two of them in the room, she doesn't have to hold onto the facade of calm, but she still doesn't broach the issue immediately. Her first concern, seeing Hammer under two blankets, is to move directly to him with a light frown. "How are you feeling, Justin?" she asks gently, back to first names as she's off the clock. Her skirt ruffles lightly as she crosses the room, looking like some sort of snowflake fairy in her ivory dress with the blue lace overlay. 
Even over the sound of the generic action flick, Justin manages to pick out the sound of heels on the hardwood floor. He sits up, pulling the blankets over his shoulders, and grabs the remote for the television off the coffee table. He mutes the TV, and looks toward Fern. He really doesn't look like he's all that sick, and truth be told he's barely running a fever, if he even had one. "Still feel like crap," he says, voice rougher than usual from coughing but not really /that/ bad. "How was the art opening?"
 
Perching next to Justin on the edge of the couch, Fern reaches one still cold hand to feel his forehead. Of course, he feels hot to her, but her hand might feel blessedly cool to him. "I think you have a fever." Then, with his question about how things went, she pauses, looking at his face. Something of a guilty looks steals over her features, although she didn't directly do something wrong, she's still a party to it. Without preamble she reaches up and carefully dips her fingers into the bodice of her dress, withdrawing several small items that she then holds out to Justin in the palm of her hand. A gold broach, a couple rings, cheap looking trinkets really by appearance, but the information she supplies with them contradicts that initial look. "Loki made me bring these to you. He wants you to test them and verify what the metal is." There's a pause before she adds, "He stole them from a display." 
There's a bit of a wince from Justin at Fern's cold touch. "Wow, you're cold... And I told you I was sick." The change in the woman's demeanor causes the CEO to frown, his own petty complaint temporarily forgotten. Before he can ask her what's wrong, he's presented with the items she produces from her dress. There's a blink, as that was anything but expected. "L-Loki?" Hammer stutters as he takes the offered pieces. "I, uh, yeah, I can do that... Wait, he stole them? From where, the museum?" Because he's been watching mindless movies, Justin hasn't seen the news, if the story has even aired yet.
Fern blinks quickly, suddenly on the verge of tears as what she's had to do hits home. She opens her mouth, but closes it quickly, not trusting her voice at this moment to not crack. Instead there's a nod, her head bobbing furiously. 
Justin looks down at the trinkets in his hand, turning the broach over a couple times. He knows Fern is upset, and he has no idea how to comfort her. Obviously, she's very upset about what happened. After a moment, he finally says, "Look, Fern, don't feel bad. I mean, the guy is a god, right? A trickster god. Like you could have told him no. Talking with Thor and Sif, I've gotten the impression the guy is kind of a psychopath and, if I may, not the type to be laughed off lightly. Really, what other choice was there?"
Justin may be at a loss, but Fern surely only makes the situation worse when she leans toward him, ducking her head as tears spill. There's no dramatics, no sobbing and rending of garments (with what this dress cost?? as if.), she's just quietly miserable for a moment. Finally, she sniffles, not lifting her head, and she says softly, "I thought he was nice, but he scared me. I don't want to go to jail for stealing these, Justin." Spoken in barely more than a whisper, her misery is clear. "And I can't let Leo know about this. It'll just make him start telling me I shouldn't be working for you again." 
...And that's just what Justin was afraid of. Now, on top of being sick and having been handed stolen goods, Fern is crying. He is not equipped to deal with this. "Trust me, you won't go to jail," he says, attempting to reassure his shaken PA. "I'll see to that. As for Loki, the guy has a silver tongue. Apparently he can make anyone do anything." Well, he actually doesn't know that for sure, but he's heard a few rumors and it's an easy enough conclusion to jump to. The comment about Leo makes him frown, but he doesn't respond, being saved by a brief coughing fit, which doesn't sound any worse than your average. Definitely not dying of the croup or something as he would have lead anyone who asked to believe.
Fern pulls back quickly, her own problem forgotten for a moment as Justin starts coughing. Thankfully, she wore waterproof mascara, so she doesn't look like a raccoon, but there are still tear streaks down her cheeks. She shifts, so she can rub his back lightly. "Do you need some cough syrup? When's the last time you had aspirin?" Without waiting for answers, eager to do something and not go back to worry about going to prison, she offers, "Can I make you some tea with honey?" 
Justin blinks at Fern's sudden change. Not that he's going to complain, if it keeps her from crying he's all for that. Plus, he's sick, and dammit, he's going to take all the care he can get. He gives Fern a light nod. "Yeah, tea I guess. I just took some stuff a little bit ago, guess it hasn't hit yet." He pulls the blankets a little closer.
 
Fern stands at once in a ruffle of skirt, hastily wiping the tears from her cheeks before bending to adjust the blankets that cover Hammer, tucking them around him warmly. "Alright, I'll make you some. I'll be back in a few minutes." She turns, the gown lightly flaring with the movement, and goes back downstairs. 
 
Being already well acquainted with the CEO's kitchen, Fern moves easily in the space, even in a formal gown, getting out a tray while the water heats, gathering up a few things. She puts some cookies on a plate, peels and sections an orange for him, and then finds, of all things, a little teapot. Someone else must have equipped the house, she can't imagine Justin buying a little stout teapot. Honey is added to the tray, along with a cup and spoon, and she carries it back upstairs, crossing back to him and putting the tray on the coffee table. 
In the time Fern was gone Justin managed, somehow, to get the strength to change the TV channel and unmute the volume. When Fern reappears, he watches her set the tray down, and for the first time really notices how she's dressed. Well, when she pulled the items out of her bodice he noticed, but he was also far more concerned with why she had needed to stash anything there. "So, is that a new dress?" he asks. The stolen trinkets have been set on the side table just to the left of the couch.
 
While she's still upset, the familiar chore did much to calm Fern again, and the question brings her smile ghosting back to her lips. "It is," she says, straightening. She does a brief turn, showing the dress all the way around, and stops, facing him. "Do you like it? I know this little shop where people take the dresses they only wear once, designer stuff, and they cost so much less." 
Fern may still be upset, and rightfully so, but Justin seems almost too calm about the whole thing. He was just handed stolen items from the Met, items stolen by a Norse god and ferried to him by his PA, and he just doesn't seem that rattled. Sure, he's under the weather and maybe his head is a bit fuzzy, but it should still have him on edge. Shouldn't it? "It looks really good on you. Though..." he stops himself, deciding even in his Nyquil addled state that what he was about to say was probably not a good idea. He looks back at the tea tray, and starts fixing a cup of tea by dumping a large amount of honey into the cup.
 
Fern actually manages to look a little pleased at the compliment, although her smile is still wan, and she steps over to sit on the edge of the cushion again, gently pushing Justin's hands away as she reaches for the teapot and pours it for him. "Though what? Do you not like the sleeves? I thought a bit longer down the arms would have been nice." She stirs the tea, then turns the cup so the handle is pointed toward Justin. 
Justin takes the cup after Fern has poured the hot water and inhales the steam for a moment. "Oh, uh, yeah, I think you're right on that." It's a not-so-clever dodge of what he was actually thinking. After making his fortune, Justin has become accustomed to throwing money around. To him, it's a show of power and success, and even though he's not that far removed from the time when he had to practically live off ramen noodles, he still doesn't quite understand why Fern still buys second hand. Is he not paying her enough?
For a minute Fern falls silent, letting the explosions from the movie fill the void, giving Justin some time to enjoy his tea, her eyes on her fingers as they tweak idly at a rhinestone in the blue lace. She looks up, her face pensive but the panic still calmed, and asks softly, "Justin, what am I gonna do? What if someone saw, or they have cameras or something?" 
Justin looks away from the TV, which had quickly distracted him in the silence, and back toward Fern. "Trust me, nothing's going to come of it. I'll make sure of that." Between his connections, wealth and good standings with the Asgardians, he's confident he can take care of this situation. "Did Loki leave you any instructions as to what to do after the metals were analyzed?"
Fern nods, mostly reassured by Justin's words. Mostly. "He said that he'll communicate with you through me. That he'll find me." He's a god, of course he'd be able to find her. "Do you think I should go to Thor and Sif about this, Justin? Maybe they'll tell him to stop it?" Because it's Loki, of course it would be just that easy. 
Justin pauses, mulling that over for a few moments. "No, not yet. Lets see what he wants, first." He takes a drink from the tea mug, which offers some much welcomed relief to the minor irritations of the cold. "Most likely this will all just blow over without incident. Loki is probably just looking to stir up some trouble, and by feeling scared you're playing into it. He's a trickster, he likes chaos." Which is precisely why Hammer should be worried, though at this stage he isn't as concerned as he should be.
Fern considers what Justin says, frowning as she turns it over in her head. "You're right," she says softly, her frown easing. "He wants people to be afraid of him. Maybe he'll just leave me alone, see that I'm not going to be any fun, if I'm not." Or he'll smite her. One or the other. "I'll just... pretend it didn't happen." 
"That's your best course of action. Absolutely." Justin looks away from the television, who's moving pictures had caused a temporary distraction, and toward his shaken PA. Fern is still the only person he would honestly call friend, and the amount of hell she's gone through since entering his employment is disheartening. "If he tries to pull something, we'll go see if we can have a talk with Thor and Sif. If anything else happens because of this, I'll take care of it. I promise."
Contrary to the effect it would have on most people, Justin's promise is the final piece to ease Fern's mind. He's never broken his word to her, and she can't even imagine he would when it's this important. She's got so many things just beginning, prison is definitely not in her plan. "Thank you, Justin," she says softly, sincerely. She twists, careful about his tea as she slides her arms around his middle to give him an awkward hug. "I knew you'd know what to do." 
Given that he's still holding the mug with both hands, Justin can't really hug back. He does offer a smile, though. "Absolutely. I've got you taken care of," he replies before coughing again, burying his face in his arm to cover his mouth. Still not the terrible, death-inducing bark that he had lead everyone to believe he had.
Fern pulls away to let Justin cough, getting to her feet. When he's over this fit, she looks down at him on the couch. "You ought to go to bed, get some sleep. I'll move tomorrow's meetings, you shouldn't be going out in this cold snap. I think you only had two, it's your light day of the week." Her head tilts, and she asks, "You gonna be ok?" 
Justin looks up at Fern. At first he frowns, then concedes and nods. "Yeah, probably best. I'll be alright, I think I can survive this." For someone who makes shady deals with some of the underworld's nastiest folks, he's a real pansy when it comes to having a relatively mild ailment. "Thanks, Fern, I'll call you tomorrow and give you an update."
Category:Log