The Master of Time (Peregrine x DotCom)

[Peregrine]

Time nodded slightly to himself, an expression of mild satisfaction, as Macy took her seat by the window.

Polite to a fault, he didn't stare at Macy as she began to eat, instead choosing to gaze casually through the window in a way that left her in the peripheral of his vision, without the lingering sensation that someone was staring at her. Of course, the question of whether or not someone claiming to be time would need something as superficial as vision to keep track of her was entirely open for debate.

As for her own eyes, which never seemed to waver from him, they were treated as casually as a spring breeze. It was something to notice, perhaps enjoy for a moment, but otherwise not put any particular consideration into.

Hearing Macy begin to speak, Time looked at her, head inclined slightly. "There's no need to apologize," he said, the words heartfelt, but hardly lingered upon. "If anything, it's my fault for acting in such a direct and up front manner. However, your reaction would only get worse the longer I delayed, and without the high to temper it. Please, forgive my bad manners."

Certainly, in any other traditional relationship, a servant who caused their employer to have a panic attack would likely be fired on the spot, and might even lose their professional qualifications in the process. However, there was nothing particularly traditional about Time, or his behavior. It was still a mystery as to what would happen if Macy tried to do something like fire him from his 'role'.

He studied her for a moment, before smiling softly. "I have come to begin my service because it is your right, established from the moment of your birth. Asking 'why' is like asking why some people are born into a family which can hand them more money than they'd be able to spend in a lifetime. It simply is, an inevitable truth."

His hands folded in his lap, Time leaned forward slightly, as though trying to impress his words upon her in a way that she'd never be able to forget. "Macy, it is impossible for me to make a mistake when it comes to the identity of my Master. I haven't mistaken you for someone else, nor will I suddenly change my mind about it. You are the Master of Time. Always have been. And... always will be. There's no mistake."

 

[DotCom]

Macy blinked, her expression blank, before understanding dawned and she made a face.

"Wait, what do you mean 'my reaction would only get worse'? How -- oh. Oh. You mean you knew I was going to freak out. And saw...more embarrassing versions. Cool. That's fun."

God, what did that mean? Once, when she'd been too young to know she needed to be ready for that stuff, she'd all but passed out on the playground after a dodgeball game. Another time, she'd thrown up at some kid's birthday party. By that time, even her parents had realized there was something wrong with her, but then by that time, she was careful to just...not get so upset in public.

She had the sudden, terrifying thought that maybe he knew all that about her, could see, had seen every decision she had and hadn't made in her lifetime, and while the thought was mortifying...there was something almost...cathartic about it, too.

But mostly just mortifying. At best.

She realized he was still there, waiting for her, talking to her, maybe both, and only just kept from apologizing again for spacing out. Fuck, she was still tired. Work today was going to be a drag.

She started to tell him she had to get ready - but his next words stopped her. She let loose a surprised bark of laughter, then immediately blushed.

"Sorry," she said before she could stop herself. "That was rude. But, like...no, I haven't?" she went on, her still-frozen Pop Tart temporarily forgotten. She did, however, take another scalding sip of coffee, feeling it burn all the way down her throat to her belly. It was almost bracing.

"Like...I just met you yesterday, right? Was I...um...the...your...whatever last week?" It was meant as a joke, or at least as insincerely as she could get away with, but the moment the words left her mouth, her eyes widened and she looked up.

"That was yesterday, right? I mean, assuming all this is not some weird, never-ending trip, that was...yesterday? Was...was it yesterday for you? Or...have we met before?"

 

[Peregrine]

Time laughed slightly. "Yesterday," he agreed, his head bobbing slowly. "And we have not met before. If we had, you would remember, as I would never dare make you subject to my control without your express permission."

Time paused for a second, an unreadable expression on his face. For a second, the hand resting on his leg balled into a fist, before relaxing an instant later. A moment later, and he continued speaking as though he had not paused at all.

"Despite that, you were my master yesterday, the day before that, and all of the days before that as well. What changed is that I came to begin my service, not your status as my Master."

He smiled faintly, looking at Macy with unexpectedly tender eyes. "I am going to continue with my analogy of a wealthy family, not because it is the most appropriate or accurate, but simply because it is the most easily understood.

"A child born to a wealthy family is destined to inherit his father's company. However, that does not mean they will simply hand over the reins to an infant. He must first grow, learn, develop, and eventually prove his qualifications before he will be able to take on the role.

"By that comparison, yesterday you became qualified. Therefore, I came to begin my service."

 

[DotCom]

Macy nodded slowly. "Uh-huh, guess I gotta take your word on that, but I guess it's hardly today's biggest leap of faith."

She was referring to his not-quite promise he couldn't, or rather just wouldn't control...her? Her brain? Whatever, without her permission, but she supposed it applied to everything he'd said to her up to that moment, and before, and the previous night as well. Strange that she was applying this half logic to it now when she still wasn't sure she believed him.

But she was also sure he wasn't lying, or not on purpose. And if he was crazy (he had to be) he wasn't a danger to her. And he...had showed her something last night. A few things. How had they gotten to her apartment? She'd been out of it so wouldn't have been able to remember giving him directions, but at that point, she doubted she'd have even thought to do so. And how had he known to have "breakfast" prepared? There wasn't much food in the kitchen (that required some modicum of planning and foresight Macy had never been very good at), so if, for whatever reason, this stranger from the street had taken it upon himself to get her home, not to rob her, or kill her, but to make her breakfast, she could accept the fluke of hot coffee and a few Pop Tarts. Even toasted Pop Tarts. But one toasted, one frozen?

That was no coincidence.

"Right. Service," Macy repeated after a moment. "And...what does that entail?" She made a face. "Aside from breakfast and panic detail?"

So, okay. Something weird was going on. She just had to figure out what. That left only testing, right? If she decided not to call the police, and at this point, that would be more hurtful than helpful. She told herself she wasn't humoring him so much as gently coaxing him to realize what he was saying -- time, destiny...fate? -- wasn't making any sense.

And yet...it occurred to her somewhere in the back of her mind, a gentle whisper she could almost ignore, except that she couldn't at all. At some point, maybe when she'd been sleeping, or after she'd burned her tongue on the first Pop Tart, and switched to the second to soothe the sting. She wasn't waiting anymore for him to prove himself wrong.

She wanted to see him prove himself right.

 

[Peregrine]

"I'm afraid I can't make a list, since it isn't as though I'm offering a specific set of services. Instead, I offer both myself and all I am capable of. You could say it is my responsibility to meet your needs and fulfill your desires, whatever that might entail at any given moment."

It was almost ironic to call Time old fashioned, considering his claims. But at that moment, it was the most appropriate term. Sitting there neatly in Macy's old wooden chair, his hands folded one over the other in his lap, he looked the perfect image of a historical butler, waiting for commands.

Or, at least, how the movies made it look.

Whatever the case, his elegant appearance was not spoiled by his long brown hair or trench coat, as out-of-place as they might have been in the image he seemed to strive to create.

"Yesterday, it was tacos and, as you put it, panic detail. This morning it is breakfast, answering as many of your questions as I can, and then helping you get ready for work."

For the first time since they'd sat down together, Time looked straight at Macy and offered her a soft smile. "Unless, of course, you'd rather skip work, in which case I'll curate some movies. I'd tell you that you could easily do so now, without consequence, but I know we're not there yet. So, the former."

 

[DotCom]

Why?

It was the same question that had been circling her mind since last night, sometimes a whisper, sometimes a shriek, always around a larger and larger nugget of confusion. Why was he here? Why now? Why did he want to help her? Why her at all? If everything else he was saying was true, what on earth - earth? - was he doing with her? If he had all the power he said it did, why did he think she was going to be able to do anything with it? Or did he? Maybe there was something else, some bigger, sinister picture she wasn't seeing, and she was just unassuming enough - or had bad enough timing, whatever that meant - that she'd work.

Macy found she wanted to know why her just as much as she didn't want to know at all.

His last words to her, though, or perhaps just his smile, unexpected as it was, caught her off guard, and she found her snort of amused surprised softening to a hesitant grin after a moment.

"Not quite there, no," she agreed, standing to drop her plate in the sink. She stopped at the counter on the way, gulped the last still-burning dregs of coffee with a wince, the deposited both plate and mug on a drying rack after a quick rinse under the faucet.

"I'll come back to those," she announced to no one in particular, then, determined to at least keep moving if she could do nothing else, went on.

"Anyway, I can't today, there's no one else for early shifts on the weekend." That wasn't entirely true, but it was easier to half-close at night and half-open in the mornings than try to do either well enough for the library owner to approve on the off chance he popped in. Besides, this time of year, the only folks who came into the library early were the handful of retirees who didn't already volunteer there, and even then, they never bugged her much for anything. It was almost as good as huddling in bed watching movies, anyway.

Almost.

"Besides, it's not like you'd...what, stop time? I'd have to go in sooner or later, right?" She paused, seemed to think about it for a second, then looked at him, staring like she could uncover his every secret there written on his skin.

"Right?"

 

[Peregrine]

Time bore Macy's probing gaze with patience and decorum, his soft smile not wavering one bit. Instead, it seemed to encourage her to scrutinize all she wanted, inviting her to gradually uncover his secrets one by one.

Perhaps, if he wasn't worried about a repeat of yesterday, he wouldn't have bothered making them a secret at all.

The corners of his eyes crinkled at Macy's question. He raised one hand, waving it lazily through the air as though brushing away invisible strings that surrounded him. However, despite the smile on his face, there was a trace of worry in his eyes.

That didn't stop him from speaking, though. As though in contrast to his hand, which looked as though it had intended to brush away Macy's question, his words offered an unexpected agreement.

"If you like."