Participants:
Scene Title | The Appeal of Politics |
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Synopsis | Craig fishes for support. |
Date | October 19, 2009 |
City Hall
Who knows what Viviane has done to get a room in the city hall that is as big as the one she occupies, but it's probably one of those things that are better left unasked. It's large enough to hold a plush, red velvet couch as well as a large mahogany desk. The fabrics of her guest chairs are a deep brown that is almost black, soft to the touch. The door is closed, the glass of it etched with her name and district clearly for any visitors. She occupies her couch instead of the desk, papers spread out around her and a pen being chewed on thoughtlessly.
Who knows if Craig actually has an appointment or whether he charmed Viviane's secretary into it. At any rate, there is soon an announcement of a visitor for Viviane to deal with.
The announcement of a visitor gets a quirk of an eyebrow, pen still perched in her mouth as Viviane mumbles around it to let whoever it is in. She begins gathering up the papers from where they've spread, moving to turn them so that they're blank side is showing instead of whatever it is she's reading.
It's not long before the door opens to admit Craig. The sleek lines of his suit are well-tailored to his body, and he wears the clothes with an enviable ease. "Councilwoman," he greets with a smile, closing the door behind him.
With a flash of what may be embarrassment, or really cutely faked to approximate it, Viviane snatches the pen from her mouth with a smile up at the man, not unwelcoming. "Mr. Owens, what brings you by my office today?" she questions as her eyes slide for a moment to the closed door. No objections are made, however, and she even moves along the couch to make room for Craig to sit.
"I thought this might be a better time," Craig muses, scent informing him plainly about the truth of any anxiety she might be feeling. He takes the offered seat with comfortably intimacy, resting an arm along the back of it. "To try and find out what it's going to take to win your support, I mean."
There is no true anxiety or stress to her smell, though there is a slight hint of happiness that is most likely translated from something else. "For Sylvia Lockheart, you mean." Her lips curve into a warm smile as Viviane leans forward, blouse falling slightly open as she retrieves a paper. Then, she settles back as if nothing happened, adding, "I'm sure you've researched my politics, and already know by now that our positions are close enough for government work."
Craig is far too experienced to do anything as crass as /looking/. (At least not obviously.) "Of course," he agrees, amusement playing on his lips. "I don't make a habit of paying social calls to City Hall." His free hand strokes carefully at his beard. "Close enough that I was surprised to hear you hadn't chosen a candidate to support." His smile widens. "You and I both know that election delay is negligible."
"I suppose I haven't had any candidate…" There's a thoughtful pause, a different type of smile entirely transforming Viviane from innocent to inviting. "Appeal to me." As if in an almost mimic of his gesture, she pushes back a lock of her hair, watching Craig for even the subtle nuances of his expression.
His expression is one of carefully-composed interest. "I think we're mature enough to be frank," Craig says, lifting his forearm from the back of the sofa to rest his hand on his face, thumb under his chin, index finger along his cheekbone. His other fingers rest loosely in front of his lips.
Her own expression is quietly amused as Viviane mentally prepares the next words, her next play. "I just wonder how much loyalty Ms. Lockheart would feel if she were to be elected," she says, the question implied in her statement. "Would she think of me when appointing heads of any committees that we would need? Or if she needs someone to take charge of any projects?"
"I can't imagine why she wouldn't think of a councilwoman who is so clearly dedicated to her position and who shares such a similar view of this city." Though Craig's words are carefully chosen, there is the slightest upward pull to one corner of his lips.
"Well," Viviane drawls softly, a playful smile on her own lips as she moves to rise from the couch. "I am sure I can work something out to publicly throw my support behind Ms. Lockheart." If her hand brushes across his thigh as she levers herself up, it is done in every motion of innocence.
"I'm glad to hear it." One move of their game looking complete, Craig's easy smile returns. "Did you know we live in the same building," he says with casual charm.
"Do we?" Viviane questions with a quirk of her eyebrow, looking patient as she waits for an explanation.
"I hadn't really noticed before." Craig gives no indication that he's about to get up from her couch. "Until I was doing research again."
A crooked smirk crosses Viviane's expression as she takes a step forward, stopping in front of Craig and hovering above him. "So, you are a research type. I don't suppose you care to tell me where you found records of my address?" Out of professional courtesy, of course, her tone implies.
"I'm the type that does whatever my current employer requires," Craig replies, one eyebrow lifting in subtle indication. The grin becomes more pointed. "I don't make a habit of making my job more difficult."
"Do you think I'd make it so?" Viviane almost purrs, rocking back slightly on her heels to examine Craig closely. "Maybe you can tell me your secrets some other day, if we have reason to keep working together."
Craig tips his head up to look at her consideringly. "Politicians are the most annoying part of my job," he quips with good humor. "Well. If we're both in the city and working the same system, it's only a matter of time."
An easy laugh bubbles out of Viviane's throat as she steps back and away towards her desk, offering, "Maybe you should find a new career, Mr. Owens." Her hand gestures in dismissal to the door, though she does offer a goodbye. "Until next time. I look forward to it."
"I tell myself that every day," Craig says, with absolutely no annoyanceor honestyin his voice. He stands fluidly, settling firmly on his feet before he offers a returning, "Until next time, councilwoman." He offers a smile far too intimate for their brief acquaintance. "So do I." He heads to the door to make his exit.
It's too bad he's gone before he can see the quirk of an eyebrow, the beginning of an almost predatory smirk as if in response to that smile. Craig might come to regret getting involved with this particular politician.