Apprenticeship
Aug. 17th, 2013 04:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shinonFandom: Horatio Lyle
Characters: Lyle, Tess
Word count: ~600
Warnings: None
Notes: Another request from Morri! Tess teaching Mister Lyle some thiefly things.
This had been a bad idea from the start.
“Mind you, I’m not practicing on real people.”
Tess gave him an unimpressed look. “‘Course not, ‘cos you’d get caught, an’ that’d just be embarrassin’. Lettin’ my apprentice go get himself nabbed would be bad for my professional reputation.”
“It would be worse for m- wait, I am not your apprentice.”
She smiled an evil smile. No doubt it had been intended to be angelic. “But you’re, what was it, deferrin’ to my expertise an’ how I’m the best that ever was.”
“Well -”
“You deferrin’ or not, Mister Lyle?”
He struggled with this question, though probably not for as long as he should have. “It doesn’t have to be illegal…”
“Maybe not, but then where’s the fun?”
“Teresa,” he said sternly, “a little respect for the conventions that prevent our society from devolving into chaos.”
“If I see ‘em in the street I’ll curtsy real pretty, how’s that?”
He frowned. Perhaps a different tack would answer better (though a part of him had begun to realize that no approach at all would ever make a dent in Tess’s essential Tess-ness). “Anyway, upholding the law can be fun, too.”
“Sure, but mostly the illegal bits.”
The next day Tess strolled through a forest of wooden mannequins in an assortment of heavy winter coats, her hands clasped behind her back. “You’re gonna need steady hands for this.”
“Remember that I do handle highly corrosive substances on a regular basis.”
“Right, an’ you never burned all the hair off your arms? Not even once?”
There was a brief silence. “I was distracted,” said Lyle.
“Oh, well in that case,” Tess said, in a knowing tone he was reasonably certain children should not be allowed to use. “Listen, if you don’t want to get caught you got to either be so quick an’ sneaky they never notice, or else distract ‘em. An’ charming social re… repar… fluffy talk ain’t your best skill, an’ you ain’t cute, an’ -” A thought struck her and she stopped pacing. “Tate’s cute. Tate could be distractin’.”
Tate, who had to this point been lying in the corner watching the proceedings with an uninterested air, now lifted his head and gave Tess a look of reproach.
“No,” she concluded, “we can’t have him adoptin’ such a hard an’ criminal lifestyle. He’s too good.” Her voice turned treacly. “Ain’t you a good boy, Tatey-watey? Ain’t you the best dog?”
The best dog rolled over and went to sleep, satisfied he would not be called upon to work for a living.
Lyle cleared his throat. “If you would finish explaining this exercise, Teresa?”
“Oh, right.” She waved at the mannequins. “I picked out all different kinds of coats, so the pockets are all in different places, see? An’ some of ‘em I put things in so you can try gettin’ ‘em out.”
“Where’s the difficulty there?”
“Some of ‘em I also put mousetraps.”
“Teresa!”
She crossed her arms defensively. “Well, you ain’t ready for big game, but you can’t learn how to do it right if there ain’t any consequences for gettin’ caught! An’ you like traps, anyway. Just imagine like you’re pickpocketin’ yourself!”
Lyle groaned. It was true he’d long had an idle curiosity about the mechanics of Tess’s (erstwhile, or at least he liked to pretend sometimes that it was erstwhile) trade. It was true he could see several practical applications for learning some of it himself. And it was also true that he’d read somewhere that showing an interest in your child’s interests may go far to secure goodwill and compliance. And so - logically, in sum - it was worth it.
But this was still a bad idea, and it was going to hurt.
Characters: Lyle, Tess
Word count: ~600
Warnings: None
Notes: Another request from Morri! Tess teaching Mister Lyle some thiefly things.
This had been a bad idea from the start.
“Mind you, I’m not practicing on real people.”
Tess gave him an unimpressed look. “‘Course not, ‘cos you’d get caught, an’ that’d just be embarrassin’. Lettin’ my apprentice go get himself nabbed would be bad for my professional reputation.”
“It would be worse for m- wait, I am not your apprentice.”
She smiled an evil smile. No doubt it had been intended to be angelic. “But you’re, what was it, deferrin’ to my expertise an’ how I’m the best that ever was.”
“Well -”
“You deferrin’ or not, Mister Lyle?”
He struggled with this question, though probably not for as long as he should have. “It doesn’t have to be illegal…”
“Maybe not, but then where’s the fun?”
“Teresa,” he said sternly, “a little respect for the conventions that prevent our society from devolving into chaos.”
“If I see ‘em in the street I’ll curtsy real pretty, how’s that?”
He frowned. Perhaps a different tack would answer better (though a part of him had begun to realize that no approach at all would ever make a dent in Tess’s essential Tess-ness). “Anyway, upholding the law can be fun, too.”
“Sure, but mostly the illegal bits.”
The next day Tess strolled through a forest of wooden mannequins in an assortment of heavy winter coats, her hands clasped behind her back. “You’re gonna need steady hands for this.”
“Remember that I do handle highly corrosive substances on a regular basis.”
“Right, an’ you never burned all the hair off your arms? Not even once?”
There was a brief silence. “I was distracted,” said Lyle.
“Oh, well in that case,” Tess said, in a knowing tone he was reasonably certain children should not be allowed to use. “Listen, if you don’t want to get caught you got to either be so quick an’ sneaky they never notice, or else distract ‘em. An’ charming social re… repar… fluffy talk ain’t your best skill, an’ you ain’t cute, an’ -” A thought struck her and she stopped pacing. “Tate’s cute. Tate could be distractin’.”
Tate, who had to this point been lying in the corner watching the proceedings with an uninterested air, now lifted his head and gave Tess a look of reproach.
“No,” she concluded, “we can’t have him adoptin’ such a hard an’ criminal lifestyle. He’s too good.” Her voice turned treacly. “Ain’t you a good boy, Tatey-watey? Ain’t you the best dog?”
The best dog rolled over and went to sleep, satisfied he would not be called upon to work for a living.
Lyle cleared his throat. “If you would finish explaining this exercise, Teresa?”
“Oh, right.” She waved at the mannequins. “I picked out all different kinds of coats, so the pockets are all in different places, see? An’ some of ‘em I put things in so you can try gettin’ ‘em out.”
“Where’s the difficulty there?”
“Some of ‘em I also put mousetraps.”
“Teresa!”
She crossed her arms defensively. “Well, you ain’t ready for big game, but you can’t learn how to do it right if there ain’t any consequences for gettin’ caught! An’ you like traps, anyway. Just imagine like you’re pickpocketin’ yourself!”
Lyle groaned. It was true he’d long had an idle curiosity about the mechanics of Tess’s (erstwhile, or at least he liked to pretend sometimes that it was erstwhile) trade. It was true he could see several practical applications for learning some of it himself. And it was also true that he’d read somewhere that showing an interest in your child’s interests may go far to secure goodwill and compliance. And so - logically, in sum - it was worth it.
But this was still a bad idea, and it was going to hurt.
