wanderingsin

"Amen to that." Mags mutters. "Aggie needs caffeine. Anyone else?" Pretty much all of the Few nod emphatically.

Except for Ollie who's already asleep across two chairs.

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"Some more couldn't hurt", he agrees. "And health insurance can wait until Sin's awake, they can't deny him this kind of care."

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"They will have looked in his wallet already," Dr. Fell says. "If only to see if there is a donor card, a living will, anything of that kind. They will be discreet about it, of course, even towards us. And allow me to organise the coffee; I know where to get some around the corner at this time of night that doesn't come from some terrible machine of evil."

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The Few nod, considering that. Mags give Athelstan an appraising look, wondering how much more the Artista knows.

"Thank would be very kind of you." Barrington nods. "Would you like some assistance?"

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Athelstan meets Mags' eyes, his expression carefully schooled, and gives her a slight nod. They'll talk later.

"You can't carry coffee for almost ten with only two hands", he agrees.

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"Of course, I'll be glad for your assistance," Dr. Fell says. "It's just around the corner from the hospital."

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"Barrington, do you want to come too? Three pairs are even better than two."

Something tells him he shouldn't be alone with the charming Dr Fell.

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Barrington nods and joins them, falling in a step behind them, moving with the grace of long practice.

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Dr. Fell leads them outside, around a corner, past a closed coffee bar into an alley to a tiny old door, where he knocks. An old man opens, recognises him, and lets them in.

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Athelstan blinks at Barrington, then at the old man's back as he leads them further into the building.

"Is this his house?"

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Barrington returns the confused look. "You must be well known here, sir? For this sort of treatment."

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"It's his bar, and he lives in the back room," Dr. Fell explains, cheerfully. "And I like discussing the finer points of coffee with him, and helped him with a conundrum."

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Athelstan nods, and doesn't ask about the conundrum.

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Barrington nods to the elderly man. "Thank you for answering your door so late, sir." He says in perfect Italian.

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"We are desperate for coffee," Dr. Fell explains. "A friend of ours is in the hospital and..."

"Not a problem, dottore," the old man says, leading the way through a tiny kitchen before turning on the light in the car proper.

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"Thank you", Athelstan says with a smile. "You're saving us from vending machine coffee."

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Barrington lingers by the door, aware of how much space his broad shoulders take up.

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"That vending machine in the hospital was made by a demon with intent to poison the soul of mankind!" the old man declares, starting to heat up the huge espresso machine behind the bar. "Saving you from it is my duty as a fellow human being."

Hannibal watches him work and nods his approval.

Edited Date: 2016-11-09 08:04 pm (UTC)

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"We're going to need..." Athelstan counts on his fingers. "Actually, just make it ten, please. If there's extra, somebody will drink it."

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"Without doubt." Barrington nods, discreetly drawing several crisp notes from a billfold, and folding them neatly.

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Dr. Fell looks at Barrington, but then seems to decide not to stop him.

The old man is starting to fill coffee cups -- proper ones -- and goes on talking about his machine, and the tiny artisanal coffee roasters' belonging to his brother-in-law...

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Athelstan listens to him politely, and doesn't question the proper china cups. He'll see to it himself they get back to the old man in one piece.

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They came to the performance as guests. Sin's guests but the Disparate Few's by extension. The least he can do is purchase their coffee.

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