Talking About the Weather (RP)

Poor Bev. She didn't deserve this. If her girlfriend wanted to dump her, she should have done it face-to-face. It shouldn't have taken more courage than fighting actual demons, right? She squeezed softly on Bev's palm again, covering their clasped hands with her second.
"Bev" she sighed softly "I'm so sorry"

That note about 'having to skip town' might had something to do with her girlfriend's line of work? Her life must be fraught in constant danger. Maybe she was in such a hurry to leave to protect Bev's life? It was pure conjecture, but this is not why she decided not to bring it up. Bev's girlfriend still decided to leave, without an explanation, and not for the first time. She didn't want Bev holding on to a flicker of hope, waiting for her girlfriend to come back to 'screw her', only to leave again in the morning. If she'll be coming back at all.

The best thing she could do was move on, and find someone who truly appreciated her. Practical advice and some perspective would have to wait till later, however. Bev needed her for something else right now. She needed her to listen. To stay with her while she vented her emotions. Merely being there was the best way to show her that she cared about her. "It's okay" she whispered softly when tears welled up from Bev's eyes "I'm here for you"

"It's NOT your fault" she didn't just say it to make Bev feel better about herself. It really did upset her to hear her friend disparaging herself like this "It is not inappropriate to worry about someone you care about. It is not 'being pushy' to want to protect them from physical violence, and intimacy is part of any healthy relationship. You did NOTHING wrong"

Emma paused when she concluded her tirade, her face suddenly growing pale. Would someone have this conversation, using these exact words, to comfort David one day? I shouldn't be here...

"Bev....I'm sorry. I got to go. David is waiting for me" she got up to her feet and nodded at the woman "You're taking a day off tomorrow" her tone of voice didn't make it sound like a suggestion "Join me and Benji. We're going shopping, and I need a woman's eye when I try on some dresses. Maybe we will get something for you too. What do you say?"

"Good!" Emma considered it a done deal "Tomorrow at Pinko. Ten o'clock"
Bev didn't say anything when she mentioned Benji, so he must not be the Vampire she allowed to feed on her? The odds of two vampires suffering head injuries within the span of a few days sounded pretty slim to Emma, but who was she to tell? Maybe having your head bashed in was not that uncommon of an occurrence in vampiric society. Definitely something she should inquire with Benji, tomorrow.
"Hang in there" she leaned to kiss Bev on her cheek, tapping her shoulder gently, before hurrying out of the coffee shop.

It was less than a minute walk to her apartment. A little over a minute, including the short pause to text Benji back before walking through the front door:

Emma found her husband by the kitchen worktop, busy chopping vegetables for their salad. He hadn't noticed her coming in - the constant drumming of raindrops and the patter against the windows made it nearly impossible to hear the door creaking slightly as she pushed it open. Leaving her coat on the hanger, she fought the urge to sneak up behind him and warp her arms around his waist. It wasn't smart to surprise someone holding a sharp knife.

"Hi! I'm home!!" she ran her fingers through her damp hair to sort it out before striding into their living space and falling into her husband's arms, pecking him gently on his lips "How was your day?"

"Sounds like it. It's been raining for so long I almost forgot how sunshine looks like" it was a long stretch of bad weather. Not THAT unusual, considering this was England. Still, she couldn't help but feel something was off. Maybe because it kept on raining nonstop, with the cloudy skies the color of black tar suffocating the city with bleak darkness.

She stalled for a bit, looking out the big glass windows at the drops of rain before turning to look back at her husband. This was difficult. David was so kind, and they haven't seen his parents in a long while. She knew they drove a long way and were looking forward to see their daughter in law. She would disappointing them as well. For a moment, she considered telling Elliot she couldn't make it after all. He would probably be angry. Maybe angry enough to hurt her. But that wasn't the thing that terrified her.

"Remember Mr. Parry?" she started hesitatingly "The businessman I've been interviewing for my next book? I met with him today, and he extended an invite to attend the Legacy Ball tomorrow evening. Everyone who's everyone is going to be there" she paused and looked pleadingly into his eyes. He could already infer her next words, but she didn't want to let them left unspoken: "I really need to go. It's important, also for my career as a journalist" calling herself a journalist was a stretch. Her writing in the Independent amounted to a relationship advice column, a few articles about fashion, and reviews of local nightclubs. Still, if she was in the company of important and powerful people she was bound to hear something interesting. Maybe something that one day will make it to the front page.

"I know!" Emma was every bit as exasperated as David. Not at her husband, but from the tension of being forced to choose between one of the options. Disappointing her husband wasn't easy for her either "But it's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. There won't be another invite if I turn this one down!" She tried to justify herself - to both of them.

"Tell you what" she sighed softly, laying her hand over his chest "They aren't going back to Birmingham until the day after tomorrow, right? I could spend the day with them. Go to the British Museum? Take them out to lunch before they leave?" she was more than happy to spend time with her in-laws, even if it meant putting her investigations on hold for a bit. Just not tomorrow evening. She HAD to get her foot in the door first.

Jacob smiles following the poor joke about jurisdiction, simply to reassure Lizabeth and encourage her to proceed with her tale. As she reaches the part about the object she discovered, his interest is piqued.

"Can you describe this copper box? Did it have any inscriptions or drawings on it?" he inquires.

Hearing Lizabeth’s story, Benji wonders if the police might not have the object, after all. Perhaps whoever ‘zapped’ Lizabeth (assuming it was even a person) stole the object before the police ever got there? If that’s the case, Benji wonders if there might be some way to track them down… "Was there anyone nearby when you found the box? Did you see anyone else down on the riverbank with you?"