[So long as Sebastian's here, he supposes he might as well see if he can find some kind of memento for Aziz, and a book seems like a great idea. Now if only he could get some service.] Hello? Excuse me, hello?
[Booth is poking around in the Occult And Mysticism of The Ancient World section (because they're a second for that! Oh, holiest of holies!). He leans over, peering down the hallway.] Y-yes?
[Sebastian gives the man--Lord, what a pale little face!--a brilliant smile and toys with one of the stray curls of his auburn wig.] Oh, hello, sir! Are you a clerk here?
[Booth tries not to balk too obviously, and fails utterly. He looks around.] No. I- I haven't seen any clerks. I was checking, the, um, selection. [He blinks.]
Oh. [Sebastian's disappointed. Aziz is a dear, dear creature, but he's also painfully difficult to buy for. Or steal for, since there's no one around to take payment. Not that Sebastian minds.] Well, that's all right. D'you know anything about medicine?
[Sebastian shrugs.] I've a friend, and I want to bring him back a book. [You know what sort of friend, right, Booth? Sebastian smiles coquettishly.] He's a doctor, so...
[There is the hint, and there is where it flew, right over Booth's head.] I may be able to find something. Medicine, you say? I'm no expert, of course... [He steps down off the ladder, and begins to stride toward the Medical History section.] M-ma'am? This way.
[Well, if the fellow doesn't get it, then Sebastian's not about to enlighten him. He takes a few quick steps to catch up with Booth.] Any kind of help would be swell, Mr...?
O-oh. Terribly sorry. [And here they are in the Medical History section. Booth pulls out a few books from memory.] An Encyclopedia of Historical Medical Accounts, mostly first-hand... Medicine and the Occult, not my specialty but it looks comprehensive enough... Ancient Medicines from Around the World, published by Puttnam Wreede, of all people...
It's all right darling, everyone makes that mistake. [He sounds like he honestly believes Sebastian's a duchess! Well, head held high from here on out.] The historical one sounds all right...who's Puttnam Wreede?
[Booth, who would not know the difference between a Dutchess and a man in a dress, having no first-hand experience with either, figures it's best to play it safe. He hands Lady Viola the historical encyclopedia.] I would add it to my collection, if it were, ah, my forte. Puttnam Wreede is a publisher, they mostly make, oh, knickknacks since the war. But this... [Surrounded by books, Booth gains a little confidence. He flips through the book.] ...was published in 1904.
Oh! That'd be perfect--he's been so busy the past two years, I'm sure he hasn't read it unless they assigned it to him. [Sebastian reaches for it, but not quite--it's a really nice-looking book. All of these are, really; perhaps he could bring several home to Aziz.] So what's your specialty?
I'm a museum curator, so... w-whatever we're focusing on that particular month. [That wasn't what he meant, of course, but it's better than saying the occult. Booth is however a terrible liar and it shows, sheepish, on his face.]
Oh. [Sebastian might have a bit of an inferiority complex when it comes to people who're clearly smarter than him. His eyes are a bit wider as he speaks.] What kind of a museum is it?
Oh. Um. Anything, really. Anything that will get people inside. We, ah, we had an exhibit on Mildred Truelove Stapleton, when she- when she died. And for a while, we had the V-Venebretti Necklace. [Booth has, upon putting the books down, placed his hands in his pockets, and is awkwardly shuffling his feet. Talking about himself, and his remarkably unremarkable life, reminds him how small and insignificant he truly is. It isn't a nice feeling.]
[Sebastian hasn't heard of any of this. Perhaps Aziz would know them, though that doesn't help him out at all right now. In any case, best not to let on that he's ignorant of everything this fellow does; he pastes a smile on his face and tries to look intrigued.] That sounds very nice, Mr. Booth. I might have to find a way to your museum someday.
W-we would be happy to have you. [That's the polite thing to say, right? It seems like the conversation is winding down, and Booth never feels like he knows the correct way to end things like these. He longs for the safety and solitude of his own apartment.] It's the Samuel Mather Parrington, of c-course. I hope these books find you well.
The Samuel Mather Parrington. Is that in Manhattan? [If not, he's going to look quite stupid. Sebastian already regrets asking, but he is mildly curious.]
Then I'll be sure to come to visit sometime. Thank you, Mr. Booth. [As Sebastian has no other tokens of appreciation to offer, he leans in and up to press a light kiss to Booth's cheek.]
[Booth sees what's about to happen and scrambles backward to avoid it, inevitably overbalancing over a pile of books and falling over with a yelp. He's left mortified, sprawled on the ground with a spreading embarrassed blush on his face, thinking privately that if he were to die in this moment, it would not be an unwelcome turn of events.]
Oh--oh, are you all right? [Sebastian's not going to apologize, but he will at least put a hand out to help Mr. Booth out. If only he'd simply stood still, there'd have been no trouble.]
[Booth is still dead set on not having to touch anyone today, so he scrambles to his feet on his own, avoiding meeting Viola's gaze in the process.] I-I-I am fine. Are you- that is... I dislike being touched. [Despite being fairly tall, Booth still manages to make himself seem small and awkward, shoulders hunched in on himself.]
Oh. [Well, now Sebastian feels bad, though really, he could have just said. It's with some reluctance that he apologizes, watching Mr. Booth cringe.] I'm sorry. If I'd known...
No, n-no, it's... [Hardly this poor woman's fault for Booth's own social failings. He has no idea how to reassure her.] I a-am quite apart in my, ah, eccentricities, I assure you.
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