Winter our discontent (RP)

"You need to walk around in them for a bit. Wear them out before the weekend" she gave him one last appraising once-over, pleased with her choices "Do you want to have another look around, or are we all good?"

"Dinner sounds nice, but it's too early" she tried to let him down easy "And i was planning on having something with David later anyways" She was sure Henry ate most of his meals alone. Kinda sad, when you think of it.

"But I still got time. If you're in the mood for a bit of fun, we can play snoops and try one of those escape room adventures? I think there's a decent one just around the corner"

"They’re surprisingly fun. You get locked in a room and have to solve clues to escape. It’s silly, but it makes you think, and the time limit tests if you can perform under pressure"

She was just as surprised as he looked. Henry wasn’t the type to go for whimsical diversions, and she didn’t expected him to actually say 'yes'. With a smile plastered on her face, she pulled out her phone and checked for the nearest venue.

There was one just around the corner, but unfortunately, it turned out to be ‘fully booked for today’, which was hardly surprising. Everyone was looking for something to do indoors on rainy days like these. But before she could say anything, Henry pulled out his wallet. She didn’t catch exactly how much he handed over; all she heard was him telling the receptionist to "just tell the other group there’s a plumbing issue or something."

The next thing she knew, they were being led into a dimly lit Victorian-style room with Faux dark wood panels, velvet drapes and rows of books lining the shelves. They were handed period costumes of deerstalkers and cloaks (She fought the urge to bite on the plastic Calabash – who knows how many other people had it in their mouth). "You won’t be able to buy your way out of this one" she teased, then stepped closer to adjust his hat, even though there was no real need to.

"No. We’re solving the murder of Mrs. Weatherby" she stepped over to the tall bookcase lining the far wall "Search for clues. Look for anything that doesn’t belong"

Her fingertip tracing the spines of the books, she scanned until she found the one real book hidden among the fakes. She tugged it free and flipped though the pages. About three quarters through, a thin slip of paper flutter to the floor. It had some old fashioned code written on it, with series of numbers and letters that clearly meant something…

"Some of them are. Some aren’t. It depends on how the room is designed. There could be red herrings too, just to mess with us" She smiled as he took the slip of paper off her hands, pleased that he was getting into it. He did have an analytical mind and a head for numbers, so he would probably make a quicker run thorough the cypher then her "See what you can make of it. I’ll keep searching for more clues…"

She had a blast playing detective. Solving a fictional murder case felt oddly comforting, because it could actually be solved. All the clues were planted, and the logic followed through. It was in stark contract to her real-life investigation into Eliot’s disappearance, that so far turned up nothing but frustration. Real life wasn’t like a game. Tracks has been covered. Witnesses, like Teddy, vanishing. Every time she came close to a lead, it slipped from her fingers. There were very powerful people who didn’t want him found, and that investigation felt like trying to navigate through a quagmire, without a map or compass.

So when Henry unlocked the final compartment, she felt a small surge of excitement. If only the real world could make that much sense! Then again, she could only imagine what a rush she would get solving one of her REAL cases. Maybe she will have better luck over the upcoming weekend…

As they stepped outside she handed her costume coat back to the receptionist and went to the locker to retrieve her bags. "That was nice" she told him, then added, because she was still playing a different sort of game "Couldn’t have made it without you"

"I don’t actually do investigate journalism. You’ve seen the kinds of pieces I write" she reminded him "But even that needs some real legwork. I can’t write about a new nightclub, a gallery, or a show, that I haven’t been to. People would quickly call me out for faking it. And besides, I would be missing out on all the fun just making things up" she smiled slyly at him

"And for my books...research helps make them feel more real. And never know what kind of inspiration you might find talking and meeting real people" she stopped short of telling him just how much ‘inspiration’ she was drawing out of her real life these days. Her next book would almost be like reading her personal journal.

She paused to check the time on her phone, before looking back at him "Anyways, It’s getting late, and I should be heading back. I want to be home before David arrives from work."

Emma was always susceptible to flattery, and even though it has been years since they’ve broken up, she still felt warm and fuzzy inside when he praised her. The thought of making him regret dumping her would be the icing on the shopping-spree cake.

She wasn’t surprised when he mentioned the cabbie’s name, or for having his number. It made sense. How else would he have arranged for Anton to be ready for them? Still, she couldn’t help but feel impressed by how smoothly everything had gone. With all the chaos in her life: Sarah, Pers, Eliot’s disappearance, and even David’s promotion woes, she was feeling like she was drowning in everyone else’s problems. It was refreshing to be with someone who not only didn’t burden her with his problems, but actually took the reins and made things easier. For once, it felt like she could lean back and let someone else handle things, something she hadn’t realized how much she needed until now.

"That’s perfect," she said, the smile genuine this time. Clutching her bags, she fell into step beside him, walking close to him as they headed back toward the underground parking lot.