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“Has Angela seemed like she's been different to anyone lately?”
The gazes of the group who once had the title of Sephirot all shifted to their youngest member at the table. She was nursing a mug in her hand, but had only drained about half of it. She seemed more preoccupied by the question she had just asked than the drink she was holding onto.
“What do you mean, Tiphereth?” Malkuth asked, lowering her cup to the saucer on the table in front of her. “Different how?”
“Dunno. Just feels like something changed recently.” She said this in the matter-of-fact way she did to let everyone know she was undoubtedly correct. “Don't tell me you guys haven't noticed it. I mean, besides her and Roland always hanging out together all the time, but I don't know if I'd even call that new?”
“Oh, uh... Angela and Roland, huh?” Malkuth laughed nervously, then cleared her throat as she looked down the table at the rest. All their eyes had abruptly shifted away, obviously avoiding eye contact. (All but for Binah, who kept the same even stare she always did. If anything she seemed to be intrigued by the topic that had been brought up.) “Umm. Ahem. Yesod, Netzach! Have you two noticed anything unusual?” She asked a little too chipperly, directing Tiphereth's gaze towards them. Yesod shot her a sharp look in return, but she just smiled with a pleading nervousness.
“Uh, those two, huh?” Netzach asked slowly. “Well...”
–
“I can't believe that after all this time you still refuse to be more responsible with the books under your care. Leaving beer cans all over the place, what are you thinking?” Netzach groggily wandered along after Yesod, watching him pluck empty aluminum cans from the edges of shelves and out from between books and from whatever little nook and cranny the crushed metal had been shoved into in the smallest of cracks.
“I mean, it's my floor, and no one seems to mind anyway,” Netzach yawned. “I said I'd clean it up later.”
“Yes, you say that, but then later never comes, and the cans are still there!” Yesod scolded. He tossed another can into the bag, listening to it clang along with the others. “At this point I don't know whether to blame this on you being an artist or just you being a slob.”
“Could be both, honestly,” Netzach shrugged. He rolled his eyes at the prospect of tidying up, but just to appease the venomous stares, he picked up one stray can, drained the rest of the contents, and added it to the bag.
“I swear, one of these days,” Yesod muttered to himself. He reached out a hand to grab another can, but paused when the shelf abruptly jolted as if it had been pushed. He blinked, realizing it had moved before he had even touched it. It was a free-standing shelf, with its opposite side likely facing another aisle with books, rather than a one-sided shelf with a backside stood up against a wall. It was completely solid wood in the center, so there was no way to see what was on the other side.
He turned to Netzach, who had also raised a curious eyebrow at what had caused the jolting movement. As if on wordless agreement, the two stepped towards the edge of the shelf, to see what had moved it.
But the two startled back when Roland suddenly appeared from the shadows of the shelf. He cleared his throat, nervously fidgeting with his tie.
“Oh, uh, hey there,” he coughed. “What are, uh... what are you guys doing here?”
“... This is my floor?” Netzach replied flatly.
“And I'm helping him clean it so it doesn't look like a mess,” Yesod added in. “I think the better question is, what are you doing here? Especially with your tie such a mess.” He jabbed Roland mid-chest, right on top of his rumpled creased black tie.
“Oh! That! Uh... You see, the thing of it is... I mean... What I mean was...”
“He was assisting me in doing a survey of the floor.” Angela stepped out from behind the same shelf, golden gaze leveled at the two Patron Librarians as she came to stand at Roland's side. “I caught wind of your 'drinking parties' having increased lately and I wanted to see if you were making too great of a mess around here to be tolerable. Is that a problem?”
“... Well, I suppose not,” Yesod muttered. “Just a bit of warning might be nice in the future is all.”
Netzach, for his part, was staring silently at the two, blinking sluggishly like a sleepy cat. Until, at last, he simply pointed at his own chest while looking Angela in the eye.
“You re-did your shirt a couple buttons off, by the way.” Then turned and walked away with a yawn.
Angela sharply looked down at herself, realizing that he was indeed right, and that there was a sizeable gap in her shirt only just visible under the cravat. She quickly turned around, fumbling to get her top properly re-fastened. Roland just averted his eyes from Yesod's, who leveled a piercing glare at him.
“... Again. A bit of warning, that's all I ask,” he muttered. “And maybe next time a place with a lock would be better.”
–
“Nothing I can think of, no,” Netzach finally shrugged after a moment of silence. Then took another long drink of his coffee. “... What about you, then, Malkuth? You and Hod notice anything?”
“E-eh? Us?!” Malkuth stuttered, not expecting the ball to be lobbed back in her court. Hod was equally shocked to realize she was being drawn into this herself.
Tiphereth's sharp, questioning gaze went towards the two, and they looked at each other with trembling looks.
“Uhhh,” Hod hummed nervously, eyes darting side-to-side like a trapped animal searching out an escape route. “W-well...”
–
“Thanks again for helping me carry all these books to the Roland's floor, Hod,” Malkuth chirped. The two held similarly tall piles of books in their arms, keeping in-step with each other even as they passed through the doorway into the Floor of General Works. “I don't know how they wound up on my floor of all places, but it sure saved me a lot of time having an extra set of hands to carry these here on my own.”
“No problem, I'm always happy to help,” Hod smiled. She liked spending time with her fellow Patron Librarians since they had all started to bond more. And Malkuth always made the atmosphere feel very warm to her, so she enjoyed her company.
“Aaand here we go!” Malkuth set her stack of books heavily on a table in the front area, with Hod quickly following suit. Then she stood back and clapped her hands together like she was clearing them of dust. “Now, just need to find Roland. He should know best where to-” She stopped mid-sentence when she heard a bumping sound from somewhere not too far off. “What was that?”
“I don't know. Sounds like someone dropped something,” Hod noted. “Roland? Is that you?” Or maybe one of the Assistant Librarians? It was unclear just by a simple noise. She walked towards where she thought the sound had emanated from, through a door that was cracked open ever so slightly. Only to find... “Ah! It was you, Roland. Oh, and Angela, too. Hello.”
“Hello, Hod. Malkuth,” Angela greeted coolly, also acknowledging Malkuth when she saw the other woman behind her.
When they entered the room, they got a better look at the scene. Roland was sitting in a plush armchair in one corner of the room, with a book open and propped up on his lap. While Angela herself stood a foot or two away from where he sat, with another book held against her chest in her arms.
“Sorry to interrupt, just some books from your floor ended up on mine, so we came around to drop them off for you. Hope you don't mind us barging in,” Malkuth apologized.
“Ah? Oh, um... Nah, don't worry. You weren't, uh... Interrupting anything.”
Malkuth raised an eyebrow, noting Roland's stutter. He was usually much more laid back than that, so the jitteriness was odd to him. Hod stayed silent for a few moments, tilting her head as if she were looking at something. But then she let out a squeak and blushed. She quickly nudged Malkuth's arm with her elbow, quietly clearing her throat. Malkuth gave her a look, but then she saw how Hod meaningfully flicked her eyes towards Roland, and she took another look at him.
It didn't take too long to see what she was trying to get at. It wasn't plainly visible at first, but now that she was looking closer, she could see the subtle messiness to his appearance. How the knot of his tie had loosened and drifted down the length of fabric, how his shirt collar rumpled and stuck up ever so slightly around his neck. And, just barely over the edge of the collar, Malkuth thought she could spot a small red mark on his neck. Not to mention how blatantly obvious it was that the book he was propping up was upside down.
Almost dreading doing so, Malkuth dared move her gaze to Angela. Only to find their eyes meeting when she realized Angela was watching for her reaction. However, unlike her usual self, Angela caved before their stares had met for more than a few seconds, and quickly turned her gaze the other way.
“Oh- Oh!! Um! Yeah, no. Well... We've, uh... got your books now! So I guess we oughta...”
“Yes, I think you should,” Angela said evenly.
“Right, well we'll get going now. And stop interrupting what we were... Not interrupting...,” Hod quavered as her voice trailed off.
Roland shot them both an apologetic look as they turned tail and ran, but they were too embarrassed to acknowledge it as they made their quick escape.
–
“I mean... Nothing particularly comes to mind...” Hod whimpered at last.
“Man, why is everyone so quiet today. Cat got all your tongues?” Tiphereth complained. She huffed, tilting her head back to take another sip of her drink.
“Well, someone's tongue is probably getting got around here recently, but it's probably not any of ours,” Chesed chuckled. Gebura shot him a look, and sharply elbowed him in the side hard enough that his coffee nearly tumbled out the side of his mug. Thankfully for the sake of the carpeting, he managed to keep his hand steady enough even as he managed to continue his wheezing laugh.
The implication, however, was too late to be stopped from being noticed.
“What? Have you got something to say, Chesed?” Tiphereth frowned, wiping the thin liquid mustache left by her drink from her upper lip. The blue-haired librarian smirked in response, but Gebura was already quick to jump in.
“I don't know. Do you have something to say to Tiphereth about it, Chesed?” Gebura asked in a warning tone.
“Have I got something to say~” Chesed hummed, lazily ignoring the blazing look Gebura was shooting him. “Well...”
--
“You think Angela's in her office, then?” Gebura asked as the duo of herself and Chesed came to a halt in front of the door to said office.
“Well, she's nowhere else on the Floor, so it's my best guess. Unless we want to go scavenger hunting for her across all the floors one by one before we come back here, I'd say this is a good place to start,” Chesed hummed while he took a sip of his drink, still fresh and piping hot from when he'd followed along after Gebura to get here.
“Yeah, right,” Gebura grunted. She raised her fist and knocked the side of it up against the wood. “Angela? You in there? I needed to ask you about something.” There was only silence in response for a moment, and for a minute she annoyingly thought they'd end up having to go around looking for her after all. But then, finally, a response came to her.
“Yes, Gebura? Can I help you?”
“Oh, great, you're there. Can I come in for a minute?” Gebura put her hand on the knob, already waiting to be let in. The lock apparently wasn't set, so she just pushed it open and walked in, assuming the unlocked door meant that it would be fine. Angela blinked at her with wide eyes when she and Chesed entered her office. Gebura raised an eyebrow, noticing a light pink dusted very prominently across her face. “You alright? Looking a little red, there.”
“Yes, I'm fine. Just a little warm is all,” Angela replied quickly. “Again, can I help you Gebura? Chesed?”
“Oh, I don't need help,” Chesed clarified, lifting his mug to accept the acknowledgment. “I just came along with Gebura for fun.” He eyed Angela, seeing the perturbed expression on her face. Then let out a soft huff of air that sounded like a laugh. “And hello to you too, Roland~” Chesed smiled as he called out in a lazy, playful tone.
Angela startled in her seat, a blush rushing across her face. Which only grew darker when her desk suddenly jolted upwards a couple centimeters as something banged against it from below, taking Gebura by surprise. Within seconds, Roland was scrambling out from beneath it, eyes wide while he boggled at Chesed.
“How did you know I was down there?!” He squawked, clearly startled that Chesed had called out to him when he should've been totally unseen.
“Oh, I didn't. I just guessed you were and took the chance.” Chesed smiled with a mild, playful triumph. “Guess my intuition was right~”
“Well, yeah. I was just down there, uh... Picking up a pen,” Roland muttered, avoiding looking directly at either of them. He cleared his throat, self-consciously rubbing at his mouth with the back of one of his very obviously pen-less hands like he was trying to get something off his face. Gebura didn't need to be a master of reading people to pick up on the situation, and her expression curdled into the face of one who understood but very much wish they didn't.
“Right... Well, I was gonna ask you something, but... I can see you two are busy, so I'll just come back and ask later,” Gebura muttered. “Come on, Chesed. Let's let them get back to... what they were doing before.” She snagged Chesed by the collar of his jacket, not giving him another moment to let out a playful remark, then dragged him right back out the way they came. “And Angela, Roland, a word of advice? Lock your door next time.” Then slammed the door behind them.
--
“Not particularly, no,” Chesed shrugged. “How's your mochaccino by the way?”
“Aagh! You're all useless!!” Tiphereth snapped. She grunted, bringing her mug to her lips to hide the pouting expression on her face. “... It's fine. Really sweet.”
“That's good to hear. I really do recommend you try it sometime, Gebura,” Chesed said easily. “Or maybe one day you and Tiphereth can join me after dinner sometime and I can convince you to try an affogato.”
“Oh yeah, the thing with the ice cream, right?” Gebura asked. “That one at least sounds like it won't be really bitter like some of the stuff you make. That other one you had me try with the cream and the brandy wasn't half bad either.”
“The fiaker? I'm glad it was to your taste after all, you were frowning the whole time you drank it. I was almost worried when you didn't punch my face on the way out if you actually didn't like it~”
“Always about the coffee, and so casually, too,” Binah smiled mockingly. A small cup of what once held espresso sat on the table in front of her. But she'd long since poured the drink into Hokma's mug of black coffee without taking so much as a sip. The move had annoyed the man, but in the interest of maintaining the peace he'd simply made no comment and continued drinking like she'd done no such thing.
“Yes, Binah, we all know how... stringent you are when it comes to attendance when you invite people to tea,” Hokma muttered over the rim of his cup. Binah gave him a look through narrowed eyes, resting her chin atop her interlocked fingers.
“Yes, and because of that people know better than to keep me waiting when the tea has already been brewed to its best state,” Binah said proudly. “... Well, most of the time, at least. There's always one or two exceptions who still disturb the sanctity of a good tea with tardiness, but I suppose I can't exactly hold it against them when there are more... pressing matters they're taking care of.”
“What, really? Someone's actually dumb enough to come late to one of your tea sessions, Binah?” Tiphereth asked, genuinely confused.
“Oh yes, there was one time...” Binah smirked, glancing meaningfully at Hokma. It took him a moment, but then he clearly understood what she was silently trying to get at with the way his expression soured.
–
Binah glanced at the clock with half-lidded eyes while she and Hokma sat beside each other at the rounded table. Hokma sipped at his tea, already cooled to lukewarm since the time Binah had served it. He glanced at the woman herself from the corner of his eye, and the way she drummed her nails along the tabletop.
“... I wonder what might be keeping them,” he finally dared speak aloud, in an effort to break the silence. “They're usually very punctual.”
“I wonder. They normally know better than to be so tardy for such an event,” Binah agreed. “I might expect this out of Roland, but Ms Angela is much more timely, even now that her physical body has changed. It's very unbecoming of her.”
“Well, maybe something else came up that's keeping them occupied,” Hokma suggested.
“Hm, yes. I'm certain they keep each other occupied very thoroughly. But I'd at least hope that they would be on time.”
Hokma shot her a frown, understanding full well the insinuation she was making.
“Really now. I highly doubt that the reason they're late to your tea party is that-”
With the soft rustling of pages and the sound of snapping fingers, two figures appeared across from them at the table. Angela, looking well kept but tired, and Roland, who looked like he was about to be sick.
“Man, I'm never gonna get used to that,” he muttered, leaning against the table while covering his mouth with his hand. “Hey, sorry we're late,” he said by way of acknowledgment to Binah and Hokma.
“Well, at least you're here, I suppose,” Hokma sighed. “The tea in the pot should still be plenty warm, so I recommend you get some while you can.”
“How good of you both to finally join us,” Binah smiled with a complete lack of light in her eyes. Roland swallowed down his nausea and quickly took a seat. Binah was quick to begin serving, pouring out a cup of tea for Roland which she allowed Hokma to pass along to him. She poured one for Angela as well, which she slid down to her seat. However, Binah flicked her gaze up to Angela, who remained standing, only staring at the chair. “Something wrong, Angela?”
“No, I'm fine...” Angela murmured uncertainly. She sighed, pulling out the chair for herself. However, unlike her usual prim and proper sitting, she leaned back slightly and gripped the armrests in her hands. Then she slowly lowered herself to the cushion, letting her weight slowly descend while being held slightly aloft by her hands the whole way down. She let out a grunt of discomfort when she came to settle on the cushion, but let out a sigh once she finally situated herself. “... So, what sort of tea is it today?” She asked, trying to act as if no strangeness had happened.
“Um, I think it's some kind of ginger tea?” Roland guessed, looking into his cup after he'd taken a sip. “It tastes a little like the one we had the other week.”
“Very good, Roland. I'm glad you're starting to gain an appreciation for drinks other than Chesed's filthy bean water or Netzach's alcohol.”
“Uh... Thanks, I guess,” Roland muttered. He watched Angela pick up her cup, and took a slow sip, savoring the warm flavor that washed over her tongue. She nodded, eyes closed serenely.
“Ginger may not be quite my favorite, but it's still a tea that's good for the body,” Binah went on. Hokma rolled his eyes on the inside. Ah yes, another of her favorite tea rambles. “A very hardy little root, and so many uses. Many people drink it mostly its health benefits rather than the flavor. Nausea and general stomach upsets and the like. It might be very useful to you as well, Angela.” She opened her eyes over her cup, watching Angela take another sip. “I hear it's very helpful for soreness, but it's also good for... increasing blood flow, as it were.”
Binah smirked to herself while she watched the resulting reactions. Angela swallowing hard while her eyes went wide, and Roland doubled over, beating himself in the chest while he choked on his drink. Hokma beheld the scene with a sort of fascinated horror, but Binah seemed more satisfied than anything.
“Don't think you two are being particularly subtle about anything, anyone who can see had been able to tell what shenanigans you two have been getting up to as of late. Not that I particularly mind, just something you might like to be aware of. Isn't that right, Hokma?”
“... I have no comment,” Hokma muttered, taking another swallow of his tea to avoid responding.
“I expected as much,” Binah smirked, quite enjoying all the chaos around her.
–
“But I'm not particularly worried,” Binah finished her thought. “I believe I taught them a lesson about not crossing me again by being late.”
“Yes, I'm sure it's one they'll never forget,” Hokma sighed as he took a sip of his drink.
“Well, that's good. It always annoys me when people are late,” Tiphereth huffed. “Why can't everyone just be on time to things? It's so rude. Though it's even ruder to just keep talking circles around things.” She shot the rest of the Librarians looks, which they all turned away from.
“Hey, you guys having a party without us?” Roland's voice entered the room before he did, with Angela right by his side as per the usual, lately. “Thought I smelled coffee. Chesed, mind if I get a cup of that?”
“Coming right up,” Chesed called back, already getting to work with his percolator. “You want anything, Angela?”
“Sure. I'll have another of what you made the last time, please,” Angela replied. “Though this time without all the foam on the top.”
“You've got it-”
“That was it!!!” Tiphereth suddenly shouted, pointing at Angela, who seemed utterly baffled by the exclamation. “That's what's been different about you this whole time. You're not wearing stockings.”
Angela seemed surprised, then looked down at herself. Surely enough, it was as Tiphereth had said. Unlike usual, Angela's legs were clearly bare where they showed under the hem of her skirt. Nothing but the edges of her socks sticking up out of her smart shoes. She caught herself under the Patron Librarians' collective eyes, and quickly turned her head the other way.
“Ah... Yes. I decided to try something new for my appearance,” she murmured.
“That makes sense. Man, I'm glad I figured that out. It's been bugging me for a while. And these jokers sure didn't help.” Tiphereth smiled triumphantly as she drained the rest of her cup. “Well, you look good without the stockings if that helps anything.”
“Thank you, Tiphereth,” Angela said softly.
“You're welcome. Though I wish I could say the same about Roland.” The youngest Patron Librarian pointed an accusatory finger the Fixer's way. “Just look at your hair! It's sticking all over the place! You look like you only just got out of bed all the time lately. Get a comb or something!!”
“Yeah, uh... I'll consider it...”
Tiphereth basked in her feeling of accomplishment, happy that she'd finally determined what had been bugging her.
With none of the others around her willing or able to explain to her the full depths of what her successful observations truly entailed.