Coffee Talk (Richard/casual){FIN}

Richard Plantagenet was worried.

It was uncharacteristic of him to be so, and that in and of itself was alarming. But then, he had too many good reasons to be worried. The steadily deteriorating state of affairs between himself and Anne was growing worse by the day, the work he was doing for the crime world at Hector's behest was taking its toll on his already sleepless nights and the voice of his conscience still refused to stop berating him.

It had been over a year now - well over a year. When had he murdered Edward? His brother? October, wasn't it? October the year before last? However long it had been, the repercussions continued. Not in the form of persecution for his crimes; Richard had been sure to rid himself of every eventuality that could lead him to justice. He had come close - too close. Close enough to warrant, even after all this time, wanting to confirm he had been as successful as he thought.

Scheduling a meeting with an NYPD detective with the false motive of reporting an incident perhaps was not the best way to go about it; Richard had easy access to government and police records with his position. And yet part of him - the old Richard finding his footing once more, the Richard who revelled in his plots and plans, not this new man who was afraid of the voices and visions inside his head - though that this would be the more...entertaining method of finding out information.

What was even more entertaining than the psychological and emotional implications of this investigation was its very setting - Richard was not ordinarilly a consumer of coffee. But this was all part of the act, part of his dissembling nature...after all, if he was going to act the part of an innocent man, he might as well do it correctly.

Having donned his long black coat before leaving Plantagenet Manor, Richard would not have been all to distinguishable in a crowd were it not for the fact that his face was such a recognizable one. However, he had been certain to arrange the meeting in a place he didn't frequent, and despite the fact he was so easily acknowledged, it wasn't as obvious here as it would have been in downtown Manhattan. Entering the coffee shop and easily spotting the detective he had arranged to meet, the comptroller made his way haltingly over - though with slightly less of a regal air than was usual with him due to the walking stick in his good hand.

Having reached the table he nodded, all politeness.

"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, sir," he said, with a small smile.

Richard's smile grew a little wider at the man's evident surprise. In truth he had only addressed him as sir as he did not yet know his name and he wasn't one to leave it hanging as a question. 'Thank you for agreeing to meet with me Mister...?' It sounded so sloppy. That and the fact this man was a police force detective - not just any Mister at all.

“Of course. Please, sit,”

Planatagenet nodded again and did so, leaning his walking stick again the table before seating himself. His attention then returned to the man sitting opposite him.

“I’m Detective Peter Aramis,”

"So good to put a name to the face," Richard replied, shaking the Detective's hand with his usual unexpectedly firm grip before releasing it, tugging the glove from his left hand before wriggling his good right hand from its glove with practiced ease.

Then,

"Would you care for a coffee, Detective? Or are you a man who puts business before pleasure?"

“Normally I would put business first, but seeing as how business is being conducted in a coffee shop, I could definitely go for a cup. I’ve heard good things about this place.”

Richard nodded. The Detective's sentiments made perfect sense. They were meeting in a coffee shop - they should partake of what the place offered. The badge and report on the table were enough to rouse suspicion - a lack of coffee would only serve to heighten it.

“Do you drink coffee, Mr. Plantagenet?”

"Not ordinarily," Richard replied. "But I too have heard good things about this particular establishment. I thought I may as well kill two birds with one stone."

With an inward chuckle at his choice of words Richard hailed a passing waiter and placed his order for a plain black coffee. The waiter nodded and wrote down the order before addressing Aramis, aking what he would like to drink.

Richard smiled inwardly as the detetive ordered the strongest coffee the establishment had. He suppossed asa a detective one would need to be versed in such amounts and strengths of the beverage but thought it best not to mention it.

As the detective removed his badge from the table this, along with the prospect of coffee, made the meeting feel much less formal. Yet the badge had only been there for identification and the intention of the meeting was still clear in both their minds - though Richard's ideas for what he wanted to get out of the meeting were doubtless different to those of the detective.

“So, once the coffee comes, we’ll discuss your incident. I hope it was nothing too terrible.”

Here Richard paused, suddenly unsure. He couldn't very well divulge the fact that the incident he had supposedly witnessed was his brother's murder at his own hand, for that was certainly terrible and could not be spoken of openly. Yet to him it wasn't terrible but it needed to be alluded to somehow as the conversation progressed.

"I'm afraid it was," he said at last. "Hence my asking to meet you here, rather than at the police station. I wouldn't want what I witnessed to be spread about, you understand."

“Of course. But I’m sure you’ll feel better once it’s on paper.”

Richard nodded. Of course. Calm and collected as expected, despite the apparently horrific nature of the incident he had to report. But inside he was panicking. What was he meant to say, and how was he meant to say it, if he was to achieve his aim at this meeting? Of course he'd have to make up a fake incident before moving the conversation along but what? Why hadn't he planned this properly, as he should have? Granted, his last successful plan had in fact been a murder plot and years in the making, but since when was he, Richard, unable to come up with a convincing lie?

He truly was not himself, despite the fact his destruction of the stock market with Monte Cristo had helped him regain a bit of his former confidence. He was not altogether there yet - not by a long shot. The words of his brother, inside his head and from a dream, no doubt, were still present, persistent and proof enough.

“You may have got the top spot, Rickyboy, but you won’t have it for much longer. Pride before fall, as the old saying goes.”

How he wished that voice, that proud, arrogant voice would desist-

Richard was brought back to reality and his current predicament of as yet lacking a decent false incident with which to begin a small investigation into the lack thereof of his brother's murder with the arrival of the coffee. He smiled, nodded and thanked the waiter, resisting the urge to take a fortifying sip before refocussing his attention on the detective. The detective. Why had he thought this was a good idea?

“Alright, Mr. Plantagenet. What happened?”

Now there was a question indeed. What happened? It was so simple, just two words, and yet the answer could mean the success or failure of this particularly foolhardy plan of his. It was only then that it occurred to him if he were to report something terrible, the discussion would naturally tend towards that, rather than the matter Richard intended to discuss. He would report something small. Detective Aramis could interpret that terrible for Richard was different than the terrible he had expected, he would write whatever it was down, shrug it off as a strange quirk and they would move on.

"There's this couple," he said at last - it felt like that to him but in truth it did not seem as though he'd had to carefully chose his words, indeed, make up his lie on the spot. "They live close to us and its been almost every morning, for some time now, that their arguing has been a disturbance."

He didn't say anything more, both surprised and a little dismayed to find there was more than a hint of truth in his words, pertaining not a couple who lived near to himself and Anne but himself and Anne themselves.



ooc: Again, sorry this took so long and sorry it wasn't awfully brilliant. I'm in a good mood so Ricky muse is not terribly easy to come by. XD

“Have you tried speaking to these neighbors, Mr. Plantagenet?”

Richard had expected Aramis to write down what he had to and not ask any questions. He was saved from having to come up with a response, however, by the Detective's being distracted by the cup of coffee in front of him. He watched, both surprised and somewhat amused at Aramis' reaction to the drink, allowing himself a brief smirk as the Detective closed his eyes.

As he opened them Richard was composed once more, a look of slight confusion on his face. He couldn't deny he was pleased when Aramis returned his attention to the business at hand, especially since the matter of the incident was taken care of. Now was time for the real plan to take action.

“Well, we can certainly look into this Mr. Plantagenet. I’ll just get your signature on this and it should all be taken care of.”

Plantagenet hastily replaced his look of confusion with one of comprehension, pulling a pen from the inside pocket of his coat and making to sign the document. As he did so he could not help but make a remark on the Detective's response to the coffee.

"Either you really needed a caffeine fix, Detective, or that's very good coffee."




ooc: I'm so sorry this took so long! D: I blame holiday homework.

“It’s a bit of both. I normally drink a lot, but this is exceptionally good.”

Richard nodded. It wasn't surprising, considering its expense, but he was not adverse to such expenses if it meant he could assure himself that no-one was investigating the circumstances of Edward Plantagenet's untimely death.

Pleased with the thought, Richard took a sip from his own cup. It was indeed exceptionally good.

"I do hope things work out for you, Mr. Plantagenet. I know noisey neighbors make life difficult."

They made life more difficult than the detective imagined, but it wasn't as though Richard was about to unravel his spur of the moment fabrication in order to elicit some sympathy from the detective. Instead he shrugged with his good arm and thanked Aramis for his concern.

"How's your coffee? Any good?"

"I cannot claim to be as expert in the field as yourself," Richard replied, with a small, self-deprecating chuckle. "But even I can tell that this coffee is very good indeed."

This said he drank some more, surprised at his enjoyment of it considering it wasn't something he'd ordinarily choose to partake of. There was a few moments pause in the conversation before Richard decided it was time to put into action the true business of this meeting.

"How is police life treating you, Detective?"




ooc: Again, sorry this took so long. Dissertations are to blame this time. ;__;