Something about Harry. [Gwyn/Harry]
May. 17th, 2005 09:05 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
ex-tarnishe.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
rpg_palace.
Gwyneth paused outside the office door, checked her com and then pushed the door open. The outer office was thankfully empty and she took a moment to adjust her suit jacket, absurdly grateful to be dressed once again in clothes more fitting her station. Yesterday's little 'adventure in denim', while different, had been very uncomfortable and she was in no hurry to repeat it. Still, it had worked out rather well, she'd met Anna's boyfriend and that had gone well and the casual clothes had been a good choice for dinner with Christian and Johnny as well. All in all, she was quite pleased with how this short visit had gone. Except for one little thing. She pushed open the second door without knocking and walked inside. "Mr. Sinclair." she greeted coldly.
Harry had arrived at the office early this morning, his stint of late afternoon drinking with Anna having lead to an early night, and a considerably earlier morning then he was accustomed to. And a charmingly wicked headache that he'd actually deigned to take a few tablets for, but he wasn't planning on admitting that to anyone. He heard the door opening, about to give Elijah instructions to not make any damned coffee this morning, somehow missing the small reminder voice at the back of his head that was telling him that Elijah never came in without knocking, realization hitting a few seconds after the now recognizable voice hit him. Oh. Jesus. Fuck. Harry lifted his head. Yep. Is her. Better stand up, mate- she looks cranky. Harry stood up, inclining his head politely towards Gwyn. "Your Highness," he said, certainly not about to assume any familiarity with her.
"Sit down, Mr. Sinclair." Gwyn waited until the decidedly seedy looking Harry Sinclair had resumed his seat and then approached the other side of his desk. "I am not," she declared. "staying long. I simply thought it prudent that you and I have a brief conversation before I depart. To that end, Mr. Sinclair, I don't like you, but I think you know that already." She stopped, waiting to see if the man had backbone enough to respond.
I don't like you either, you stuck up, pretentious, terrorizing snob. Don't say that. "You are welcome to your opinion, your Highness. To be fair, I'm not entirely sure you know me well enough to form an opinion, but it is, of course, yours to have."
"Of course." Gwyn inclined her head in acknowledgement. "However, your behavior yesterday, despite the prin . . . that woman's best attempt to cover for you, was deplorable and only reinforced what I already believe. You are entirely unsuitable as a partner for my brother." She held up a hand to stop Harry's responding when he opened his mouth to speak. "However," she went on inexorably, "I have been persuaded that Orlando's choice is entirely his own and mistakes are his to make. I think you're a mistake and one that he may yet come to regret." A delicate rise and fall of her shoulders. "But that is to be seen. What I came here for, Mr. Sinclair, other than to give voice to my disapproval, was to give you some food for thought." She put her hands on the desk and leaned over. "If you should ever do anything to bring my family name into disrepute, hurt any one of my siblings or my father, there will be nowhere for you to hide." Straightening up, she looked down at him. "That is all. Would you like right of reply?"
"Yeah, think I just might," Harry said, sitting straight up in his chair and looking at Gwyn. "Your concern about my relationship with Orlando rings a little hollow to me when you consider that he and I have been together well over a year. Coming a bit late to the party if I was such a mistake, aren't you? We've never hid our relationship- been right here the whole time. As for the rest of what you've said, again, if you knew me, you'd know that I'm not the type to hide from anything or anyone, and my reputation as a loyal subject and supporter of your family is impeccable. And if you'd like further details as far as that's concerned, feel free to speak to your father. His Serene Highness knows me pretty damned well."
Raising an eyebrow because she was both surprised at his defense and impressed by his words, Gwyn backed down, just a little. "Good." she said. "You're not entirely without gumption. To tell you the truth, I was rather hoping that Orlando would simply get over his infatuation, then I was hoping that you'd stay gone when you did go. But, it wasn't to be, which is why I am here, having come to the conclusion that you are something of a fixture in this family. My father thinks highly of you and while I value and respect his opinions, sometimes I find his choice of friends to be slightly . . . quirky. Which is , I think, an adjective that applies directly to you, Mr. Sinclair. Now," she moved back a couple of paces, preparing to go. "I have a schedule to keep so unless there's more you'd like to add, I think we're done and we're most certainly clear."
"Only that I love Orlando, and that I respect your father, your Highness. And you're right- I'm not going anywhere," Harry added, unable to stop the cheeky grin that followed his last statement. "Travel safely- oh- and send more pictures of the girls, when you have a chance. They're beautiful." Harry said, rising to his feet again as Gwyn made to leave.
"My thanks, Mr. Sinclair and I'll be happy to." She made for the door and stopped with her hand upon the wood, looking back over her shoulder unwilling to let the man have the last word. "I'll send you some as soon as I get home," she told him before vanishing. "Laying pearls before swine, so to speak."
Harry rolled his eyes and thunked down in his chair, reaching for his glass of orange juice. "Why am I not surprised that that one had to have the last word," he muttered, a sudden grin spreading across his face as he grabbed for his com, doing a quick search before placing an order and composing the card that would be enclosed with the package.
For Dnara's littlest princesses, with much love from their Uncle Harry.
"This time, your Highness, the swine are gonna beat you home." he smirked, taking one last look at the adorable plush piglets that would be delivered that afternoon. "Gotcha."
Gwyneth paused outside the office door, checked her com and then pushed the door open. The outer office was thankfully empty and she took a moment to adjust her suit jacket, absurdly grateful to be dressed once again in clothes more fitting her station. Yesterday's little 'adventure in denim', while different, had been very uncomfortable and she was in no hurry to repeat it. Still, it had worked out rather well, she'd met Anna's boyfriend and that had gone well and the casual clothes had been a good choice for dinner with Christian and Johnny as well. All in all, she was quite pleased with how this short visit had gone. Except for one little thing. She pushed open the second door without knocking and walked inside. "Mr. Sinclair." she greeted coldly.
Harry had arrived at the office early this morning, his stint of late afternoon drinking with Anna having lead to an early night, and a considerably earlier morning then he was accustomed to. And a charmingly wicked headache that he'd actually deigned to take a few tablets for, but he wasn't planning on admitting that to anyone. He heard the door opening, about to give Elijah instructions to not make any damned coffee this morning, somehow missing the small reminder voice at the back of his head that was telling him that Elijah never came in without knocking, realization hitting a few seconds after the now recognizable voice hit him. Oh. Jesus. Fuck. Harry lifted his head. Yep. Is her. Better stand up, mate- she looks cranky. Harry stood up, inclining his head politely towards Gwyn. "Your Highness," he said, certainly not about to assume any familiarity with her.
"Sit down, Mr. Sinclair." Gwyn waited until the decidedly seedy looking Harry Sinclair had resumed his seat and then approached the other side of his desk. "I am not," she declared. "staying long. I simply thought it prudent that you and I have a brief conversation before I depart. To that end, Mr. Sinclair, I don't like you, but I think you know that already." She stopped, waiting to see if the man had backbone enough to respond.
I don't like you either, you stuck up, pretentious, terrorizing snob. Don't say that. "You are welcome to your opinion, your Highness. To be fair, I'm not entirely sure you know me well enough to form an opinion, but it is, of course, yours to have."
"Of course." Gwyn inclined her head in acknowledgement. "However, your behavior yesterday, despite the prin . . . that woman's best attempt to cover for you, was deplorable and only reinforced what I already believe. You are entirely unsuitable as a partner for my brother." She held up a hand to stop Harry's responding when he opened his mouth to speak. "However," she went on inexorably, "I have been persuaded that Orlando's choice is entirely his own and mistakes are his to make. I think you're a mistake and one that he may yet come to regret." A delicate rise and fall of her shoulders. "But that is to be seen. What I came here for, Mr. Sinclair, other than to give voice to my disapproval, was to give you some food for thought." She put her hands on the desk and leaned over. "If you should ever do anything to bring my family name into disrepute, hurt any one of my siblings or my father, there will be nowhere for you to hide." Straightening up, she looked down at him. "That is all. Would you like right of reply?"
"Yeah, think I just might," Harry said, sitting straight up in his chair and looking at Gwyn. "Your concern about my relationship with Orlando rings a little hollow to me when you consider that he and I have been together well over a year. Coming a bit late to the party if I was such a mistake, aren't you? We've never hid our relationship- been right here the whole time. As for the rest of what you've said, again, if you knew me, you'd know that I'm not the type to hide from anything or anyone, and my reputation as a loyal subject and supporter of your family is impeccable. And if you'd like further details as far as that's concerned, feel free to speak to your father. His Serene Highness knows me pretty damned well."
Raising an eyebrow because she was both surprised at his defense and impressed by his words, Gwyn backed down, just a little. "Good." she said. "You're not entirely without gumption. To tell you the truth, I was rather hoping that Orlando would simply get over his infatuation, then I was hoping that you'd stay gone when you did go. But, it wasn't to be, which is why I am here, having come to the conclusion that you are something of a fixture in this family. My father thinks highly of you and while I value and respect his opinions, sometimes I find his choice of friends to be slightly . . . quirky. Which is , I think, an adjective that applies directly to you, Mr. Sinclair. Now," she moved back a couple of paces, preparing to go. "I have a schedule to keep so unless there's more you'd like to add, I think we're done and we're most certainly clear."
"Only that I love Orlando, and that I respect your father, your Highness. And you're right- I'm not going anywhere," Harry added, unable to stop the cheeky grin that followed his last statement. "Travel safely- oh- and send more pictures of the girls, when you have a chance. They're beautiful." Harry said, rising to his feet again as Gwyn made to leave.
"My thanks, Mr. Sinclair and I'll be happy to." She made for the door and stopped with her hand upon the wood, looking back over her shoulder unwilling to let the man have the last word. "I'll send you some as soon as I get home," she told him before vanishing. "Laying pearls before swine, so to speak."
Harry rolled his eyes and thunked down in his chair, reaching for his glass of orange juice. "Why am I not surprised that that one had to have the last word," he muttered, a sudden grin spreading across his face as he grabbed for his com, doing a quick search before placing an order and composing the card that would be enclosed with the package.
For Dnara's littlest princesses, with much love from their Uncle Harry.
"This time, your Highness, the swine are gonna beat you home." he smirked, taking one last look at the adorable plush piglets that would be delivered that afternoon. "Gotcha."
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