Chapter Text
The bell of Mr. Lear’s Bookshop signals the arrival of a new customer. The man steps inside sheepishly, holding his brown top hat, fidgeting with it as he looks around at the beast of a bookstore.
“Ah, Mr. Crawford!” the charming voice of Gabriel Lear rings out, “I didn't expect to see you back so soon!”
He climbs down from the ladder he was using to shelve books on, his brown wavy hair slightly tousled but a wide grin still stretched on his face, nearly meeting the corners of his hazel eyes.
Mr. Crawford startles at the sudden sound of Gabriel’s voice, letting out a light chuckle before his shoulders relax. “Oh, my boy, how are you always so happy?”
Gabriel lets out a hearty chuckle as he leans against a nearby bookshelf, his cream button-up shirt hanging loosely on his frame, the first three buttons unbuttoned. “Well, being in such a calming environment all day does put one at ease.”
The older man smiles softly, “I do suppose that's true,” With a clearing of his throat he switches from small talk to business talk, “I am here to ask for another favor.”
Something changes in Gabriel’s eyes, his positive energy not fading but shifting into something more professional. His smile shrinks, “Another favor? I'm surprised that you still have things to give. What is it you need this time?”
Crawford shifts closer his voice lowering despite no one else being around, “I need the location of someone.”
Mr. Lear nods, his smile returning to its original state, “And your payment?”
A small gulp comes from Mr. Crawford as he reaches into his pocket, “I assumed this would be a big favor, so I brought something extra special,” he pulls out an old, worn leather bond notebook, “It was my mother's.”
Mr. Lear takes it with a delighted expression, “Yes, indeed this is perfect. It carries a lot of sentimental value,” he looks at Mr. Crawford, “Who was it that you needed found?”
Mr. Crawford hesitates, before leaning in and whispering a name into Mr. Lear’s ear.
He hums softly, stepping back, the grin never leaving his face, “Excuse me for one moment, I'll be right back.”
Watching as Gabriel leaves, Mr. Crawford shifts uncomfortably. Lear’s bookshop still gives him the creeps, even after all these years of coming to the man for favors.
The smell of scones and tea catches his attention.
“Mr. Crawford, is that you?” the bubbly voice of Genevieve calls as she walks out of the side kitchen. Her long brown hair is tied up in a bun, with a few messy strands having come undone in the front. In her right hand she holds a tray of scones and tea, wiping her left hand on the already messy apron.
“Genevieve, you look lovely as ever my dear,” Mr. Crawford says with a polite smile, glancing towards the gorgeously made scones.
She laughs lightly, “Mr. Crawford, you are always so kind,” After noticing his gaze looking towards the scones she holds the tray out to him, “Take one, they're fresh, right out of the oven.”
“You, Genevieve, are the kindest of them all,” he mumbles sweetly, taking a scone when offered one. His eyes flutter as the soft, buttery bread melts in his mouth, “And the best baker in town.”
Genevieve grins at the compliment, shifting to hold the tray with both hands, “You're such a flatterer, Mr. Crawford.”
Just as Mr. Crawford finishes his scone, Gabriel comes back out with a folded piece of paper in hand, “As requested Mr. Crawford, this should be their exact location.”
The man brushes his hands off on his pants, taking the paper as it is given to him, “Thank you once again for your business Mr. Lear,” he says shaking the other man’s hand, “and thank you Ms. Lear for your wonderful baking as always,” he nods politely at her accepting their mumbled goodbyes before turning and leaving, the bell ringing once again.
Gabriel lets out a low sigh once the man is gone, his smile fading, as he glances towards Genevieve, “Did you do it?”
Her smile slowly fades as well, her grip tightening on the tray, “Sadly, yes. A deal's a deal right?”
He nods, eyes flicking towards the door, “It is. Though you are right, dear sister, it is sad. I did like the poor man.”
Genevieve sighs softly, her eyes locked on the door like her brother’s. Silence falls for a few more moments before she turns and walks towards the small seating area, gently setting the tray down on the table. “The poisons slow, so he shouldn't die till he's headed out of town.”
Gabriel hums thoughtfully, slowly turning to follow his sister, “Good. His death shouldn't be tied to us,” he says, sitting down across from her, lifting the teapot to pour two cups full. He plops one sugar into hers and two into his, handing her the teacup, “Cheers.”
Twin smiles appear on their faces as she clinks her cup against his lightly, “Cheers.”