Around 9 in the morning


Fauna stood in the meeting room, her upper back resting against the wall and her arms loosely crossed. The door across from her was ajar, and though she heard footsteps in the hall every now and then, it was blessedly quiet. Level Four conference rooms tended to be less busy when the next full moon was still a few weeks away. She'd needed to get away from Two's commotion, and since she felt confident that Virgil would show up, Level Four had seemed like somewhat neutral ground. She had to tell Virgil and Bagnold something very important. She'd promised she would, when they'd last met.[1]

The memos she'd sent to both of them earlier in the morning had been short and to the point, letting them know that she had an update about the 'gifts' they'd received in February.

She just hoped they wouldn't ask too many questions.

Her eyelids felt heavy and her eyes itched. Though she'd taken the time to change into a fresh set of clothes, she could still smell the sickly sweet aroma of the flowers plastered on the front door of Sasha's flat. She still thought of Baldur, huddled and barely conscious inside. But Baldur was alive and that was what mattered. It must be a great comfort to Sasha, all things considered, and it felt like the single ray of hope that Fauna could hold onto. She had Moira to thank for that.

Two muggles hadn't been so lucky. They'd gotten close to the flowers and most crucially, the cursed note. The smell of the oleanders was the last thing they'd ever know.

At the sound by the door, Fauna opened her eyes and straightened her back. Virgil! Perhaps a few minutes early. Looking more well rested than she.

Her gaze settled on him with relief and a little more emotion than she wanted to feel at the moment. It would be a long time before she'd stop feeling angry and sad about the lives lost. The muggles lost during the Cold Moon in December hadn't been so long ago, either. Not for her.

"Hi. Morning. Thanks for coming."

Fauna managed a slight smile, pulling out a chair and sinking into it. She should have brought coffee or something to fidget with. As it was, she propped her chin in her hands in an attempt to appear awake, not wanting Virgil to worry or Bagnold to doubt her.

1.	The More We Know

He had been at work since five this morning, having signed on for an early shift in order to get off early on Friday. Taking time off from Stardust things had given him a sudden vacuum of time and energy to fill. Rather than fill the void with more responsibilities he was learning to manage his hours more flexibly.

Time did possess a flexible quality, on Mysteries.

Virgil made his way up to four in the boilersuit he'd been wearing in the Labyrinth, helping on a project for the Committee of Experimental Charms. He braced a basket of pears and apricots against his hip, and sipped periodically from a laboratory beaker of iced coffee in his hand.

An unlit cigarette was tucked behind his ear. None of these things comforted his lift companions- they took one look at his Mysteries badge when he offered them fruit, and politely declined.

Well. Their loss. The fruit was perfectly fine, if accidental. Virgil got off on four and headed straight for the conference room Fauna mentioned in her note. He had been awake for ages now, distracted from thoughts of scrying and direwolves, but now his curiosity crept back into focus.

What did Fauna Blake have to tell them? That couldn't go in a memo? It had to be significant.

"Morning to you too," the blonde drawled, recognising the great disparity between their moods as he entered. "I notice the distinct absence of a good to that greeting."

He set the basket down in the middle of the conference table before approaching Fauna. "You're looking blue, Dorothy." Virgil offered her his drink. "Seems you need it more than I do."

Fauna blinked awake, lifting her head from her hands. By the hair of Helga's chin, Virgil appeared like a futuristic Dionysus laden with fruit and merry drink. Coffee was indeed the merriest.

Fauna glanced at the unlit cig he sported, but no, it was not gillyweed, just a regular cigarette. Virgil! Those weren't healthy!

"Um. You don't have to - but ok."

Fauna's hand reached for the beaker - beaker! - of coffee before her words could catch up.

"Thank you," she sighed, relieved. "One of these days I'm going to remember to bring you a drink instead."

She managed a stronger smile.

"You look, er -" like a tidy miner exploring the caverns of wisdom.

"How are you?"

 Fauna amended with her usual question, earnestly wondering.

            "You look, er - How are you?"

An eyebrow went up. He pulled out a chair, one over from the witch, and took a seat. "Not too bad. No visions yet, I'm afraid." Not for lack of trying  - Virgil set aside time every evening to scry.

His work in the Hall of Prophecies exhibited that the evening times were most receptive for him as a Seer. The two significant visions he experienced were at night... Abby's vision at a dinner table, Carter's when he was asleep with Anton. Virgil leaned towards later in the night; to be visited by a vision of someone so wholly unrelated to him must require prime timing.

"I would ask after you but I'm sure you'll enlighten us when our third arrives," he glanced over his shoulder at the door, then back at Fauna. If it were just him she would have already done the deed. "Don't need a Seer to see it's not good news though."

This was not peak!Fauna after all, he thought, eyeing her searchingly.