Happily Ever After AU - for conning

[abrightboy]

From here

Comments

[abrightboy]

Malcolm watches, lets Neal do his thing where he puts people at ease. Malcolm usually has the opposite effect.

"Oh, no," the girls says. Her face says otherwise. "She leads by example."

[conning]

Everything about this woman’s responses makes Neal dislike Ms Windsor even more, but he hides it. “What’s your name?”

“Rachel,” she says, shy and with an air that says she’s not entirely sure she should say. “Wait here, please. Guests aren’t allowed in the rest of this wing. Um, what were those names you needed?”

[abrightboy]

Malcolm takes a piece of paper out of his inside jacket pocket and hands it to her. Once she’s slipped down the hall he looks at Neal.

“What do you think?” he asks, turning to get a better look at the room. A doll standing in the corridor causes him to still. “Who did you say uses actual glass glass eyes?” he clarifies.

[conning]

"Doll makers," Neal repeats, looking at the doll, unsettled. He walks over almost tentatively, picking it up, turning it over in his hands. "This is custom, too. Hand-painted."

[abrightboy]

"Looks like a lot of money to pay for so much creepy," he remarks.

"They're gift for graduates," the young woman says from behind them. "Made in their likenesses."

Malcolm purses his lips in consideration of that.

She steps over and takes it from Neal's hands. "I must have put it down here when Miss Windsor called me."

[conning]

"Who's the maker? It's beautiful work."

Neal keeps his tone entirely mild.

[abrightboy]

Malcolm knows when to stay back.

She looks at Neal. "Do you know a lot about dolls?"

[conning]

"I'm an artist and art consultant," he says, still mild and friendly. "And it's very much its own art form."

[abrightboy]

"He's local," she informs him. "If you want to see more of his work, I have his card here somewhere."

[conning]

"That would be wonderful."

And yes, that comes with another Winning Smile.

[abrightboy]

She smiles shyly back, retrieves the card and hands it to him, along with the requested records.

Once outside - Ainsley is gone and Malcolm wrongly assumes she’s gotten the hint - Malcolm looks up at Neal sidelong with a sly smile.

“You’re very charming, you know.”

[conning]

Neal’s answering grin is shameless. He walks the business card between his fingers before presenting it dramatically to Malcolm. “It’s a necessity in my line of work.”

[abrightboy]

"It's pretty handy outside of it, too," Malcolm teases, taking the card and examining it. "A doll maker to the etiquette elite. I'll text the info to Gil," he says, taking out his phone and typing a message.

[conning]

Neal breathes in the damn afternoon air, thinking silently while Malcolm texts Gil. Once he's done, Neal gives him a sidelong look.

"Is it just me or is Ainsley being..." A long pause.

He's trying to think of a word that's not insulting.

[abrightboy]

“Super competitive? Yeah, that’s a Thing that she does,” Malcolm tells him. “I’m a little concerned about the… cavalierness, but… she’s always been very competitive.” He takes a breath and stops walking and looks at Neal. “One time when I was nine we were playing hide and seek and I couldn’t find her anywhere and then dinner time came and my parents called and called for her and she didn’t appear. They searched the house, the neighbourhood, the park. Finally, around midnight, my dad found her in the grandfather clock in the foyer. You know what she said to our absolutely frantic parents? ‘Malcolm couldn’t find me, so I win’.”

[conning]

Goosebumps crawl up Neal's arms. It pings wrong. It just pings wrong, in a way he can't quantify yet. He retrieves the card from Malcolm with a little sleight-of-hand flourish, turning it over to see the address.

"Would Gil take it badly if we went shopping?"

[abrightboy]

Malcolm shrugs, with a hint of a smile.

“That’s not usually something I take into consideration,” he admits. He tends to ask for forgiveness over permission.

[conning]

Neal grins. “Oh good. Me neither.”

It’s not a long cab ride—Neal and Malcolm actually step out onto the curb in front of the shop as JT and Gil walk up the sidewalk toward them.

The latter scowls. “No.”

It’s more instinctive protest than actual objection.

[abrightboy]

Malcolm grins and tries to flourish the card the way Neal did, but just ends up fumbling and dropping it. He gamely picks it up and holds it out to Gil.

“He makes custom dolls for the etiquette school attended by all the victims,” he informs them.

[conning]

"You want idealization--the dolls themselves are modeled to look like the students, and given at graduation. Ideal, flawless, unchanging versions of themselves, minus all the mess of humanity."

Neal studies the sign above the door, trying not to let it show how his skin feels like it's crawling. He understands it, the logic of this man. That makes him feel more than a little sick.

[abrightboy]

"Since we're looking for someone with a psychosexual obsession with the literal perfect woman, doll making could easily be a fetish turned revenue generator," Malcolm says reasonably. For all of Neal's reservation, Malcolm's anticipation is ramped up to eleven.

[conning]

Gil sighs, trying not to admit to himself the fact that Neal has been annoyingly helpful so far. Instead, he holds the front door of the shop open, managing to make the courtesy look sarcastic as the other men file past him inside.

Neal studies the shop with interest, all the dolls in various sizes, various mediums, even the "cheap" ones crafted with undeniable care. He's never been much for this kind of artistry--too creepy for him--but he can appreciate the skill involved.

Gil leads the way into the workshop area, which is far less polished, and in Neal's eyes, far more interesting.

"Trevor Falvey? NYPD. We'd like a word."

Neal gives Gil a startled look. "Way to ease into it."

[abrightboy]

Malcolm smirks. "We don't do easing into it," he explains.

The man in question looks up and looks nervous. He looks between them all.

"What, um. What can I help you with?"

[conning]

"We were hoping you could tell us why this was found in a corpse this morning." Gil holds up the freshly-cleaned glass eye, eyebrows raised. "We've confirmed it's your work."

[abrightboy]

“Oh. Um. Let me just check my records,” he says, easing away from them and into a back room.

Malcolm looks at Gil as the door closes behind him and tilts his head towards it. JT snorts and heads into the back room, everyone in tow. The doll maker is dragging a female form towards the back door.