*Slam*
Teacups rattled in their saucers as Jonathan shut the door to Meeker’s apartment behind him.
Jonathan Reference didn’t break stride as he entered the apartment’s living room. “There I was trying to get my beauty rest when a fight broke out in the marketplace. I hate it when people can’t resolve their differences elegantly. I just hate it.”
Jonathan made a show of walking around the dining table so that everyone in the room could hear him speak.
“And as I lay there on my futon I found myself filled with inconsolable frustration. I knew that if I went back to sleep my tainted emotions would poison my dreams.”
Jonathan pulled off a scarf he was wearing, looked for a place to hang it up, didn’t find one, and then threw it haphazardly over a chair.
“I am someone that believes in the power of dreams. Not in a prophetic way of course. That would be illogical. I am someone that always tries to be logical. Logic is the root of reason and reason is the soul of passion. Rather, I believe in the emotional power of dreams, in their ability to show us our deepest desires and clearest truths.”
Jonathan pulled out a chair for the table in the middle of the room. He pulled too wide and hit a bookshelf behind him. More teacups stacked on the bookshelf rattled with the shock.
Meeker ran over and steadied the shelf.
Jonathan didn’t notice. “That is why I make sure to get plenty of sleep. Eight hours a night is an ideal amount. Sometimes I get less and only sleep for seven hours. Sometimes I get more and will sleep for nine. The variation isn’t important at all, what is important is that I leave plenty of time in my life for dreams. That way when I wake up I don’t have to waste any time on dreaming or imagination. All of my dreams have been had while I was in bed and when I am awake I can fully dedicate myself to action.”
Jonathan kicked a foot up and placed it on a nearby ottoman. His heel shoved another tea set to the side.
Meeker dived over to rescue the tea set before it hit the floor.
Jonathan put his hands on his hips. His shirt was a size too small and stretched across his defined pectoral muscles. He flashed the room a bright white smile.
“And I am nothing, if not a man of action.” He said.
“Mr Reference I’m so glad you’re here. I had some questions I wanted to ask you.” Nick scooched his chair closer to Jonathan.
“Of course Nick, my gentleman in training. I am at your disposal. I am a well of knowledge. So grab a bucket and drink of me as much as you like. And speaking of drinking...”
Jonathan leaned over and pulled the tea set out of Meeker’s hands. He slid it onto the middle of the table. Jonathan reached into his loose jacket and pulled out a green summoning gemstone. He rolled the gem across the tops of his knuckles and then flicked it into the air with his thumb. As the gem fell he popped the top off of the tea kettle with one hand and pointed a finger-gun at the falling gem with the other. Right before the gem hit the tea kettle it turned into a magic circle and filled the kettle with a steaming mix of tea.
Almost everyone around the table applauded the display. Jonathan smiled. Meeker sighed and sat back down.
“Anyway Mr Reference I was wondering-”
Jonathan held up a hand. “Pause, pause, pause. Who is this?” He pointed at Tasha sitting across from him.
Tasha had pulled up her shirt so that it was hiding her chin. In addition to that she had placed Eins on top of her head and buttoned her jacket around the dog’s neck. Eins’ furry snout covered most of her face. Tasha looked out between the edges of her jacket.
If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.
Jonathan pointed a finger. “Are you wearing a dog on top of your head?”
“The rules are that everyone has to have a hat.” Tasha replied. She swiveled so that Eins’ face was pointed at Jonathan. “I’m only following the rules.”
“And this dog is your hat?”
“This dog is my… mascot. I’m using him as a hat.”
Jonathan pulled his chair out, spun it around, sat on it backwards, and put his elbow on the table. He leaned in close to Ave. “I like it. It’s very alluring, very auspicious. Did you know that in ancient times people used to dress like animals as a sign of dedication to the gods? That’s why our restaurants still use such elaborate costumes for their servers. It’s an ancient tradition that was passed down through many generations.”
Everyone around the table crowded in closer to listen with interest.
Jonathan put a teacup in front of Ave and filled it from the kettle in the middle of the table.
“And here you are using an actual dog as a hat. What a clever interpretation. You remind me of the Hatless Lady.” he said.
“That’s the legendary thief that turned traitor and threw away her hat so that she could rob anyone.” Nick jumped in.
“That’s right Nick.” Jonathan filled his own teacup. “While I don’t agree with her methods I can’t help but admire her panache.”
Jonathan lifted his teacup. He blew seductively on his tea. “I like someone who’s got their own style.”
“You do seem like a man that would be captivated by style.” Tasha droned.
“If you’re done flirting. We have a meeting that we need to finish.” Meeker said.
“You’re right.” Jonathan nodded. He spun in his chair to face Nick. “Nick, what’s this problem that you’re having?”
“Well sir, I’m having some trouble making my quota. It’s really hard because I haven’t picked a specialization either.” Nick frowned.
“Quota, no no no, don’t talk like that. Don’t think of it as a quota. Think of it as a goal. Or a dream.”
“I guess that makes sense.”
“It does.” Jonathan stood up and started circling the table. “Listen to me Nick. It doesn't matter if you’re an Intimidator.” He pointed at the Breton Bully. The Breton Bully cracked his knuckles.
“Or an Infiltrator.” He pointed at the Peach Basket Bandit. The Peach Basket Bandit fanned her face.
“Or a… dog mascot?” He pointed at Tasha. Eins licked its nose.
“All that matters is that you have a dream. A big dream. A stupendous dream.” Jonathan threw his arms back wide. He jostled a chest of drawers behind him. The tea sets on the furniture *Rattled*.
“You’re right Jonathan.” Nick nodded along.
“But you don’t have a dream yet so you’re going to be a pickpocket.” Jonathan grabbed the paper questionnaire out of Nick’s hands. He pulled a pen out of this jacket. “Let’s see here. Specialty… pickpocket. It’s a great starting point. Wonderful opportunities for growth. Don’t worry. You’ll have your own dream one day.”
“Yes… Mr Reference.” Nick sat back down.
“No need to thank me. And I’ll just add the cost for all this advice on to your next gratuity. A gratuity that you gratefully give me in thanks for all of the valuable advice that I’m providing you. You do value my advice don’t you Nick?”
“Of course sir.”
“That’s a good lad. Don’t worry about it this time. I’ll just add it on to your next Haberdasher membership fee.” said Jonathan.
“Sorry Tasha. Looks like it’s only pickpocketing for me.” Nick lowered his newsboy hat and filled out the rest of his form.
“Tasha?”
Jonathan looked over to where Tasha was sitting. But Tasha was gone.
Everyone heard the sound of scurrying feet as Tasha dashed out the door.
“That one was a strange bird she was.” The Breton Bully said.
The Peach Basket Bandit sniffed.
“Can we please get down to the distribution of tasks for the heist.” Meeker pleaded with the table.
Jonathan turned back to the table. “Of course my good friend Meeker. I wonder what that was all about?”
Jonathan finished the tea in his cup. He picked up the empty cup and saucer and shoved them onto the bookshelf behind him without looking. The cup and saucer were ever so slightly off center.
#
“That was… embarrassing.” Tasha pulled Eins off of her head as she walked down the street.
“That’s twice that you’ve run away from that tall man.” Eins said.
“I know. Sometimes it’s just…”
“Easier to run away from your problems?” Eins said. “I get it. The world is a scary place. We all have things we don’t want to face.”
Tasha put Eins down. The two of them walked down the streets of the city. Tourists bustled past them.
“I got something that might make you feel better.” Eins said.
“What is it?” Tasha asked.
Eins wiggled. A piece of paper popped up from between the thick tuft of fur between the dog’s tiny bat wings.
Tasha took the paper and unfolded it. It was the vault diagram from Meeker’s table.
“Eins, you shouldn't have stolen this.” Tasha examined the diagram.
“Oh, really? Do you want to go and give it back?”
“No…”