Questions and answers

Disclaimer: none of the characters are mine, but belong to their respective owners.

The man, Moriarty thinks, combines the bulk of a brown bear with the grace of a big cat, even as he is helping his wife pour him and Prospero the South American herbal tea. The woman, on the other hand, looks exotic, like some sort of a foreign breed of feline, but her movements are more sinuous and serpent-like instead. The glances that they exchange with each other, however, have nothing animal-like in them – they are fully human, loving, and real. He wonders if the Duchess exchanges such glances with the Librarian, when the two of them are together, however infrequent this is.

"So, senhor professor, senhor mage," the woman speaks with a slight Spanish accent – but not the classical, European sort of Spanish, rather the Spanish used in the Americas instead. "And senhora sprite," she nods towards Ariel, who gives the woman its best 'who, me?' sort of look. "What brings you to our humble dwelling in the suburbs?"

"Ms. Palamas, Mr. – Palamas," Prospero sips the mate, "this is an interesting drink."

"Thank you. I am guessing you were not used to hot herbal tea. My apologies? Would you like something more traditional?"

"No need, no need," Prospero chuckles – protected by his magic, he can afford to be magnanimous. "I appreciate you taking your time in your busy schedules to meet us."

The man gives the wizard (and Moriarty) a look. Moriarty knows this look. Moran used to evaluate potential threats with this look. 'Mr. Palamas' may allow his wife to take charge of the discussion, but 'allow' is the key word here, and both spouses know this. Both spouses are fine with it too. Moriarty wonders if the Librarian and the Duchess would have this sort of arrangement. From what he had seen of their social interactions so far, he doubts it.

"There's an advantage of running a private clinic...maybe not exactly a clinic, but something along those lines," Ms. Palamas chuckles lightly. "We can arrange our schedules. Right now, my husband is treating you with homeopathy, while I...am playing a more traditional role in our relationship."

"Do the neighbours object? Do they interfere?" Moriarty cannot help but ask. In this enlightened day and age-

"Once they figured out that this is, um, role-play, not so much," 'Mr. Palamas' gave a rueful grin and shot a look at his wife. "So go out for it, professor, in the world from where we've come, the hero always gets the girl, even if she's a Mary-Sue," everyone shuddered at the very mention of the name, the fictionals tended to hate Mary-Sues of both genders, "but here, in the world of the real? Maybe you have a chance, especially if you strive for the impossible dream and believe that your significant other is worth it."

"And if you don't have a significant other?" Prospero speaks sharper than how he usually does. "What if you're alone, a puppet in a play? What if your dreams and desires are not yours, but of some bard, who is trying to appease his king?"

"Firstly, we're talking about The Bard here, so please, speak politely," Ms. Palamas shakes her head. "The man is intra-dimensional or something, he cannot be stopped easily, if at all. And secondly? Think of it as opportunity – you are free here to choose how to live your life without even The Bard's restraints upon you: if you make your peace with the Librarian and his crew, maybe you can cut some sort of a deal? I believe that Frankenstein's Monster did just that."

"Don't remind me of that," Prospero grunts. "The Library's people have all the luck in the world."

Moriarty looks askance at Prospero's new staff, but says nothing.

"Suit yourself," 'Mr. Palamas' isn't that restrained. "But either way – no, we won't be joining in on your crusade, none of our growing community will."

"You're former villains, background characters," Prospero is not fully convinced. "Surely some of you are interested?"

"'Former' is the key word here, senhor mage," Ms. Palamas is not backing down. "Yes, none of us are unhappy that we aren't characters of a TV show anymore, but none of us are unhappy enough to ruin a good thing for everyone. Back in the show? Grant would've been involved with a Mary-Sue," a collective shudder, "while I would've been some sort of mediocre villain, or even a foil to Morse. Maybe you could pop over and talk to Morse. She just might be the character you're looking for."

"No," Moriarty says firmly. "She's just a cheap pseudo-British knock-off of the Duchess."

"You don't need a woman who accepts you as you are, you want a woman who will help you get better," their male host nods in understanding. "Been there, done that, wish you the best of luck." His wife beams and sits down next to him.

"Well, I guess this is our answer, sir," Moriarty nonchalantly turns to Prospero without even lying – he did get his answer, after all.

"Perhaps," the elderly wizard, on the other hand, is not as convinced. "But once I win, you will change your collective minds, to be sure."

"Perhaps," the Palamas' spouses reply. "Have a good luck with your plan."

(And so, Moriarty leaves their house, alongside Prospero and Ariel, feeling more empowered and encouraged than he did ever since Prospero pulled him out of his book.)

End