Quotable Saturday: Tricks of His Trade
"A diplomat is a man who always remembers a woman's birthday but never remembers her age." -Robert Frost
If martyrs didn't last long in the Underworld, diplomats of any kind were nearly dead on arrival --- which made Prue increasingly glad as the weeks and months passed, as they worked to bring the Brotherhood to heel, that Cole was a lawyer to his core.
She was five months along, and she felt it that night, in her back and her ankles, until she saw the chocolate cake on their dining table.
He stood there with the candlelighter, a thoughtfully ironic smile at his lips. "You think I'd forgotten?" She came up to the table, somewhat enchanted by the cake despite herself. Shook her head. "I wouldn't forget the date the Source's headache began, nor," he put a hand on her shoulder and pinched, "how many long years the Underworld has put up with it." The feigned forgetfulness is an art. "Thirty...one, I believe."
He was a cat with string, but she looked at the candles. Three in a semi-circle, faced by one on its own. He saw her slow pleased smile, and whispered against her ear, "Happy birthday, my spinster bride."
If martyrs didn't last long in the Underworld, diplomats of any kind were nearly dead on arrival --- which made Prue increasingly glad as the weeks and months passed, as they worked to bring the Brotherhood to heel, that Cole was a lawyer to his core.
She was five months along, and she felt it that night, in her back and her ankles, until she saw the chocolate cake on their dining table.
He stood there with the candlelighter, a thoughtfully ironic smile at his lips. "You think I'd forgotten?" She came up to the table, somewhat enchanted by the cake despite herself. Shook her head. "I wouldn't forget the date the Source's headache began, nor," he put a hand on her shoulder and pinched, "how many long years the Underworld has put up with it." The feigned forgetfulness is an art. "Thirty...one, I believe."
He was a cat with string, but she looked at the candles. Three in a semi-circle, faced by one on its own. He saw her slow pleased smile, and whispered against her ear, "Happy birthday, my spinster bride."
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