ᴅᴀᴘʜɴᴇ ʙʀɪᴅɢᴇʀᴛᴏɴ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
marriageable) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sundown2025-01-01 08:39 pm
marriageable) wrote in sundown2025-01-01 08:39 pm
for bucky.
[ She should really be heading home.
It’s the same thought she’s been having for the past hour — everybody else had filed out long ago, the hour hand on the wall ticking past eight. The museum had been closed three hours past already; she was sure to hear it from her mother for being late again to supper. It was not like Daphne to be late anywhere, save for the acceptable tardiness when one was being fashionable, or giving the host time to freshen up.
But she likes her job, and she really doesn’t mind the tasks handed to her; she’s the youngest of the curators, after all, eager to prove her worth.
Even if not absorbed in her work, she would think anything of a creak, or a shuffling noise in the distance. Maintenance came in at night, and old buildings make all sorts of noises.
None of it registers, until she shoulders her purse and flicks the lights off. A rustle, followed by a thud. In the dim hallway, she casts her eyes over toward the open door to the director’s office.
Something stills her from moving forward, but she calls out anyways, because it’s nothing, naturally, just another weekday night — ]
I’m heading out now, Dr. Porter. I’ll see you in the morning.
It’s the same thought she’s been having for the past hour — everybody else had filed out long ago, the hour hand on the wall ticking past eight. The museum had been closed three hours past already; she was sure to hear it from her mother for being late again to supper. It was not like Daphne to be late anywhere, save for the acceptable tardiness when one was being fashionable, or giving the host time to freshen up.
But she likes her job, and she really doesn’t mind the tasks handed to her; she’s the youngest of the curators, after all, eager to prove her worth.
Even if not absorbed in her work, she would think anything of a creak, or a shuffling noise in the distance. Maintenance came in at night, and old buildings make all sorts of noises.
None of it registers, until she shoulders her purse and flicks the lights off. A rustle, followed by a thud. In the dim hallway, she casts her eyes over toward the open door to the director’s office.
Something stills her from moving forward, but she calls out anyways, because it’s nothing, naturally, just another weekday night — ]
I’m heading out now, Dr. Porter. I’ll see you in the morning.
no subject
I'll show you. [ She settles back against his chest, quiet and content. ]
I have a name for you.
no subject
You do? Which name did you pick?
no subject
Volkov, [ she announces, only a hint of apprehension he might dislike it. Mostly, she thinks it suits him. That he will see that, too. Hopefully. ] You know what it means, don't you?
no subject
( He doesn't know much about his life outside of the missions they send him on but he knows about this, about having a mate and keeping her safe. That comes on instinct. )
I won't let anyone hurt you. You belong to me.