“How do you take your coffee, sir?”
“Five creams and six sugars, if you don’t mind,” answered a brisk and slightly lilted tone.
The reply garnered an ever so slight wide eye from the waiter but he turned to prepare the order.
“Excuse me-” said a more polite voice, from one of the two men at the table. The waiter turned to face him, having not expected the other man to speak, for he was dressed much like himself. “Yes, if you don’t mind-”
“He’ll have the same,” interjected the brisk voice, belonging to a certain Percival Caddel. The table shook slightly with the bounce of Percival’s leg; clearly, the man was not one for patience. For the past half hour, he’d been speaking to his colleague, William Birdwhistle, over a matter of great importance. Recently, Percy had been on a binge watching shows like BBC Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes (Robert Downy Jr.), Elementary, and other such media. Gaining a love for mystery solving, he was trying desperately to convince his friend to find and solve a case with him.
“I take my coffee black,” William scowled. Personal assistant, financier, and dear friend of Percy’s. Normally, William had a quiet and long-suffering countenance. His judiciousness, however, growzs thin when his drink of choice is of the matter.
“We don’t have time for you to take your order! I know how specific you are. Now, what did you think of my proposal?”
“I think it’s dogwater.”
“Well, have a heart.”
“No,” William said, still sour about the coffee, “you have far too many escapades already. I can’t keep the house and follow you around chasing goose feathers. You’re a grown man Percy, I think it’s time you came into yourself, and if you’re so passionate, do it by yourself.” He said with a huff. He called over the waiter once more to take a proper order.
Percival bit his cheek. This was going to take some work.
“How about this,” he began, gaining a thin side-eye from the other, “I manage everything. I pay for everything, obviously. Our first case? France. Low brow, just auhh, missing persons or something. The servants care for the house. It’s a vacation!”
“And what would be my role?”
“Uh, well, emotional support. You’re my best friend I simply couldn’t do this without you. And ahh, well Sherlock had a sidekick! Sherlock! It’s good to have two eyes for everything.” Percy said this while donning his most assuaging smile. “Come on, pretty please?”
But William knew.
“Percy,” he began, his voice sounding like it’d taken an arctic water bath, “I’d end up doing all the work. I’d end up cleaning your mess. I’d be the one calling your father if something terrible happened. I can’t entertain you anymore.” William’s note was final.
Percy winced at the last statement, then soured his lips and watered his eyes. It was true; Percy often took his most loyal friend on inane trips. Going on adventures looking for treasure only to end up in the hospital with spears stuck in them. Deep-sea escapades, promising the discovery of some terrible monster, ending in screams and a deep thalassophobia neither of them had before. In one instance, Percy grew intensely curious over rumours of a shady government site; this particular adventure ended with hush money and a stern word from his father.
Born into insane amounts of money, Percy never knew what to do with himself. He was the only son of the head of an elitist luxury goods company and his father rarely checked in on his well-being, barring when he’d found himself in trouble. Not knowing what to do with himself, Percy sought the highs of adventure and adrenaline.
“This is just like when you decided to invest in an Arctic sports event.” William stated, with a cold glare over his iced, Ristretto, ten shot, venti, with breve, five pump vanilla, seven pump caramel, and four sugar, which he requested to be poured, not shaken.
“This is completely different! And that’s a real thing you kno-”
“Hosted in Antarctica! Where polar bears are. You know how that ended.” William said, lowering his voice. The argument was catching the attention of other’s at the cafe. “I just can’t. Your father won’t approve of having to cover up for you again, either. You think coalescing with criminals is safe?”
Percy sighed pathetically. “Oh, my friend... You’re right. I’m terribly sorry. You have sacrificed much to indulge me and I ought to respect that.” He resigned himself, sipping at his barely-a-coffee.
“Yes, I’m glad you understand now.”
“Just one thing...” in an instant, William gave his coldest stare. Percy winced but he had to tell the truth. “... I already booked our flight to France. It’s set for later today.”
