Roger gathered up the folders and other contained things Bea wanted and stacked it. When they were about ready, he picked up the trash and the stack and followed Bea out the door. He waited while she locked the door. "If everyone is out and Mrs. Mortimer is asleep, we probably could use the kitchen table." He suggested. He could imagine everyone's reaction if they saw the two of them in Bea's room unsupervised. And even though neither would do anything questionable, he didn't want her reputation questioned. Besides, kitchen table. Where else would you have a nice flat surface to work on? Assuming of course, you didn't have nosey people coming back or a land lady waking up and coming out.

He followed Bea down the hallway, discarding the trash in a receptacle as they passed one. "Have you seen anyone out of the ordinary?" He inquired, holding the door open for her as they headed outside. His eyes scanned the street but there was nothing out of the ordinary. He walked beside her as they made her way back to her apartment.

---
Estella followed the woman out of the room and back into the maze of passageways. She examined the airship as they walked along. It was a lovely ship. She smiled as Rebekah tried to apologize. "Think nothing of it," she said. She had worse. A lot worse. Thankfully, she knew how to make a real good locking door and if need be, use a gun. "You get used to it in my line of work." They headed along. Now Estella was no expert but she really didn't remember these twists and turns. It was a good thing that she was being escorted. She'd get lost. When she was on the Allure she had walked it with a paper sketching out a map so she wouldn't get lost. Of course, she didn't make it obvious - she had received enough flack but it helped navigate.

"Oh ok." Estella shrugged. She wasn't sure why but whatever. She really didn't need to get back right away and hey - any additional time on this vessel was a joy. They come onto the bridge and her eyes lit up as walked in. Quickly covering her interest, she nodded to the man. "How do you do." She said politely. So this was the man who owned this fascinating mechanical wonder. As Rebekah went over to him real quick, Estella tucked her thumbs into her pockets. Remembering it wasn't actually very feminine, she pulled them back out again she let her hands fall to her side.

Turning to give them a slight bit of privacy, Estella watched them out of the corner of her eye. When the woman came back, Estella turned her attention back to her. She smiled at the positive energy displayed. The smile faded slightly as she was offered the money. "Oh no." She said raising her hands up. "I can't take that." She shrugged off the explanation. "I don't care. Doesn't bother me." She gave a quick smile to show she didn't mean to offend. "You get it a lot in my line of work. Don't worry, I'm good." She smiled. "Thank you though."

“She’ll only be napping for a little while,” Bea shrugged shifting her bag a little bit as they headed down the poorly lit hallway. But she supposed th at they could set up there and if Ms. Mortimer became annoying, they could move up to her room with the door open. She only tended to walk by often then instead of hover and try to interject it every little thing.

“I suppose we'll just have to see how things are when we get there.”

She was silent for a moment, thinking back to make sure that there wasn't anything that she forgotten to tell him about. She knew she'd not felt particularly nervous or like she was being watched. But she was distracted with finals and this whole craziness. So maybe she just missed them. But she doubted that greatly. “No. I don't think so. Everything seemed the same as it was before. No new people or lurking shadows.”



Rebeca shook her head firmly at the girl’s resistance. “In America, it is customary to tip delivery staff,” she said with another smile. “And while this may not be America, I'm still American. So I'm going to tip you and you can take it here or I can go make a big stink of it with your boss.”

She shrugged her shoulders, lips pursed some. “I guess if you rather, think of it as a consultant's fee. If you're right or wrong, doesn't matter. You offered advice, even if poorly received.” She wasn't about to let it go so easily it seemed, and her father and captain standing a few feet behind didn't seem inclined to stop her insistence either.

Roger was grateful for that but it didn't set his fears to ease. Just because nothing out of the ordinary had happened, didn't mean she still wasn't being watched. He hoped though that since it had been a year that whoever was involved in her father's murder wasn't to interested in her at the moment. Though, he was sure that if she moved or went somewhere, that would undoubtedly raise questions. Especially, if it was sudden. Thankfully for them, it was summer time and that was a perfect time to go somewhere without raising to many questions.

But then again, she did visit her the room where her father's stuff was stored. Would that raise an alarm? A bit annoyed at himself for letting his mind start worrying, he pushed the thoughts back. He would stay vigilant but worrying wasn't going to help anyone. In fact, it would just make things worse. Not to mention, IF they were being watched, freaking out and acting paranoid might actually give them away to the fact that they knew what had happened. And that could raise even more concerns.

They reached the boarding house. Roger stepped aside so Bea could unlock the door. Ms. Mortimer never left the door unlocked. This is a home of young ladies. Who knows what ruffians might try to come in and take advantage of one of you. And of course by ruffians, she undoubtedly meant anyone of the male gender. Roger wondered if she had always been like this or if some guy had really hurt her. He guessed the latter as something like that wasn't just innate. But at least she wasn't overly hostile... mostly.

He helped Bea spread the papers on the table and then start going over them closely. He was looking for anything that might resemble the handwriting found on the envelope. "Did your father have any friends that he hadn't seen in a long time?" He asked. Though he had worked with Doctor Brown for some time, he really didn't know a lot about the man's past. It wasn't something that was discussed. Though he had always been warmly welcomed, he wasn't privy to something like that.
----
Estella resisted a sigh. This woman was making way to much of an issue out of this. Seriously. She had endured worse. But then again, she found that sometimes some people felt guilty or bad for what others did. Then of course they'd try to make it up. She wasn't ungrateful - no. She just didn't like handouts - no matter what you called them. Her mother's words echoed in the back of her mind. It's not always about pity. Sometimes people want to just be nice and give you something. It'd be prideful to refuse them. She inwardly sighed. Fine. But that didn't mean she'd keep it. She accepted the money with a smile. "Alright. Thank you. Though," she wanted to make sure it was clear. "For the delivery. Not for the any consultation advice." Her next smile was a genuine. "That's free."

She wasn't the type to let something keep her down. Oh she got down, but rarely when she was with people. She was great at compartmentalizing. But then again, humor was always a great way to cope with life.

Pocketing the tip, Estella nodded her thanks to the Captain. She then followed the young woman back out of the bridge.

Bea got the kettle going once the papers were out, getting cups and tea pot down for tea. They were going to be working on this for a while. Might as well have some tea to fortify them through the search. She thought while she got the tea ready, humming a little bit. “He had lots of old friends. Men from back in his own uni days that had moved on to other places that he hadn’t seen in years.”

And of course there were even older friends. From when he was younger than she was now. But those were even more distant than his uni friends. And there were old colleagues. Ones who’d gone to other schools to teach, or had walked away from teaching like he had. There were so many people her father had met in his life, and it was hard for even her to say who were friends and who weren’t, who were the people he’d kept in touch with, and who were the ones he’d trusted enough with this thing that he hadn’t trusted her with while he was alive.

“There’s a pile of letters,” she said turning around and bringing a little tray over with everything they’d need for tea for a while. “It wouldn’t hurt to take a read through them to see what kind of relationship they had. Decerne which one of them might be the most trusted of them.”



Rebeca smiled and laughed a little. “Call it what you like,” she said. “Doesn’t make much difference to me.” She looked over her shoulder at her father and gave him a little wave. “I’m going to see her out.” He just nodded and went back to whatever it was he was doing before they arrived.

She stepped past Estella, but didn’t walk too far ahead of her either and waited for her to turn around and follow her out of the ship. Before they parted ways, she stopped and smiled at the other girl. “Truly, thank you,” she said with a smile. “We’ll be certain to recommend you to anyone for your professionalism.”

Roger accepted the tea with a smile. "Thank you." He took a sip before setting it carefully aside. He picked up a stack. "Good idea. I'll go through this stack and see what I can find." He wasn't exactly sure of what he was looking for. Neither of them were. They did know that someone, no doubt a past friend, had sent Bea her father's letter. It had to be someone distant that her father would have trusted yet at the same time would not have been suspicious enough to have his enemies look at them - or at least closely. Professor Brown was intelligent if anything. He knew what he was doing. Pulling out a small notebook and a pencil, Roger set it beside him. "I'm going to make notes of every name I run across and the dates of the letters." He told Bea. "This was we can check patterns and last time there was contact."

When had Professor Brown given up his teaching career? The rise of mysticism had slowly gained ground, even having a bit of traces of the movement at the end of the war. However, it wasn't until it really took off in 1925 that the Professor decided to stop all his work. It was interesting really. He had spent a lifetime studying mysticism with his colleagues laughing behind his back. That hadn't stopped him. He had kept going, pushing on. It wasn't until they turned and accepted him - pretending to welcome him in with open arms - that he had actually quit. Roger guessed the old adage was true: Your friends are not those who are with when you are standing tall but the ones who are there when you were down at your lowest. Those were the friends that Professor Brown would trust. Those would be the ones he would ask to hold a letter for him.

Roger glanced through the letters. He skimmed them to get the general idea. Noting down the date, name, and profession - when applicable - he set it aside and moved to the next letter. Despite the fact that Professor Brown had gone reclusive in his latter years, he had quite a collection of letters ranging over the years. Most of them were business related. A lot of the more recent were requests for him to come back to studying. To share his findings. To research. To work in some university. Those Roger noted as well. Though he doubted the professor would have been on friendly terms with them, it might be something he would have done to cast-off suspicion. After about a dozen or so letters Roger paused for a second and stretched. He glanced over at Bea. "How's it coming?"
----
Estella followed the woman out. She didn't dawdle but she did look at the ship as she walked. Exiting the vessel she turned. She smiled. It was touching and very thoughtful of the woman. All she had done was deliver some parts and she now had a recommendation? Especially considering the fact her and professionalism didn't seem to match. Sure, she was friendly and nice. She put up with things but when Estella thought of professionalism she thought of someone more fancy, more...refined. She just did her work hard and with a good attitude. These people were...different. She didn't see this type of kindness that often. "Thank you," she said. She nodded to the ship. "If you ever need more parts, Rufus' got them." She smiled once more, gave a half bow/courtesy before heading off.

Several feet away she thought about pausing and looking back to admire the airship. She glanced back and flushed. The woman hadn't gone in yet. She raised a hand up in farewell, acting as if that was the whole purpose before looking forward again. Of course that was just tacky too. Either way, she kicked herself mentally before deciding to shrug it off. Oh well. It was doubtful she'd see them again anyway. She was only going to stick around with Rufus a bit more before moving on. She frowned. Well, she actually might see them. It depending on when they were planning on leaving. There was no way that vessel would take off - not without replacing that part. She made a mental note to find a replacement and pull it aside after she gets back to the shop. They were going to need it. She reached into her pocket and felt the tip. And they shouldn't need to worry about paying either. She smiled.

Bea made herself a cup of tea and sat down to across from Roger to read as she finished stirring. There was so much to look through, even with him there to help. She could have sworn that she’d been through a lot of this before. It all felt so familiar to her because it was ever so much of her father. This was all him and it was just constant the reminders of him. And it wasn't all bad. Some of it made her smile thinking of happy memories from when she was little.

Which made her thoughts start to drift to her mother and sister. And that picture that had come with the letter as well. She'd seen maybe one photo of her mother that her father had kept locked away. She'd never found it when he passed. It was nowhere in his things and she had thought that maybe she'd just imagined it. But seeing her again, and her older sister as well, only confirmed that she hadn't. Maybe that photo was the one she'd seen and had just forgotten about all the details. She'd been so very little when she'd seen it. Hardly any older than when her mother had left, taking Maria with her.

By the time Roger spoke again, Bea was lost in thought, holding the spoon just above her tea with one hand, a few lose sheafs of paper in the other hand, glasses perched on her nose as she read over the papers. She didn't hear him speak either. She was too into what she was looking at to notice that he'd said anything at all.



Rebeca watched her with a bemused smile, waving at her when she turned around. “Strange girl,” she chuckled to herself before heading back into see her father.

Everything on the Valkyrie carried on like it always had. Repairs were made and the crew did what it normally did while in Port with no real jobs. They were good though, and caused no real trouble.

Sooner than later though, repairs had to be tested and the ship prepared for a short flight. Frederick was confident, and boastfully so especially when Rebeca was in earshot, and to a lesser degree when Will was, that every was going to be just fine. And things seemed fine. For the first few moments of take off. Then the smoke started and alarms went off both in the engine room and the bridge.

Will’s mood was not at all lifted by that and with totally justifiable anger, he headed down to the smoking engine room to see just what exactly it was that had gone wrong. Even with Rebeca’s words floating after him that reminded him that he'd been warned of this already.

Roger glanced over, noticing that Bea hadn't replied. He smiled slightly as she seemed a bit lost in her on thoughts. He watched her for a moment in silence. Her glasses sat on the tip of her nose and she held a spoon almost as if forgetting she had it. He smiled lightly. She was so...he didn't know. He couldn't think of the word but there was something that made him smile when he saw her with that slightly distracted look.

Not wanting her to catch him staring, he went back to his paper and glanced at it again. He'd give her a bit and then check in later. For now, he'd let her work. He picked up another letter and skimmed it.


November 23, 1928
Dear Edwin,

It was with utmost pleasure that I received your note though I am a bit surprised at the vagueness in it.
I will honor your request and be sure to be there on the 7th.

It will be good to see you despite the circumstances.

Until then, Your friend,

Randolph


Roger paused and then went back and reread the note. He looked at the date and marked it down. What really caught his eye though was the slight blue "BTX" drawn on the right hand tip of the letter. It was small and not really noticeable but there nonetheless. What did that mean?

"Bea," he called, this time speaking a bit louder to get her attention. "What do you make of this?" He held out the letter. It was probably nothing but still. It had been written about six months before her father's death. The note itself was short and a bit cryptic. He handed her the note.

----
He tried to excuse it. The captain didn't seem to be in a friendly mood and his initial smile and attempt at humor had fallen really flat. "I went over the engine twice before we launched." He stammered. "There was no way it should have happened. That part should not have failed as it did. There was no indication of this happening. It's not my fault."

He wasn't used to this. Usually, if something went wrong he would blame a subordinate but here? He was the only one working. He was the only one who had any play in the mechanics of the engine. Any mistakes the captain would blame on him even though it wasn't his fault. How was he supposed to know that it would mess up? How was he supposed to know that the part would crack and cause an issue on takeoff?

When the captain mentioned something about how he had been warned the mechanic looked at him. "Warned? By who?" he asked. Then he remembered. That little delivery girl had said something. How did she know? He frowned. She must have done something. They had been there before he got there. There was no way she could have known, not unless she was the one behind it. He narrowed his eyes. She wanted to discredit him. "There was no way she could have known that unless she did it herself." He said crossing his arms.

When he spoke to her again she finally heard him and looked I'll. "Hmmm?" She asked, looking rather confused for a moment. What was he going on about? Oh, the letter. She put her spoon down along with the papers she'd been reading and took the letter from him. She read it over a few times, he brow crinkled on more as her confusion grew. Randolph. Randolph. And that little BTX down there as well. That was surely no accident. It meant something. But what?

"This..." she started, looking up, looking down, shaking her head slightly. "This looks like the script from the package. And I do remember a Randolph. Vaguely." She handed it back to him, looking thoughtful.

"I swear I've seen that little marker before too," she murmured, flipping through her notes and her father’s in no clear order. "Somewhere..."

After a moment she looked up and asked, “Do you have the envelop for that? With the address?”



Will did not look impressed by that idea either, but he was willing to give the man the benefit of the doubt instead of firing him right on the spot. So instead he reached for a phone like device and called up to the bridge to talk to his daughter.

“Can you come down to the engine room?” he asked.

“Why?” she questioned, unsure what he needed her down there for.

“Just come, Becs,” he sighed, hanging up before she could argue with him anymore. “We’ll have a chat with Rebeca to see what happened,” he explained to Fredrick. He didn’t say much after that and just waited for his daughter to join them.

It was only a few minutes before she was standing in the door way, looking a little flush and slightly out of breath from having hurried so to get there. “What’s the emergency?”

“When you were in here with the girl before, did she touch anything?”

Rebeca looked to the mechanic and saw his expression. He was trying to transfer the blame. “No,” she said a little smugly. “Not at all. We were in here a whole minute before he came in and she didn’t do anything but put the box down before then.”

Roger watched Bea as she examined the letter. He hoped this was it. That this would give them a clue of where to go. It was a long shot though and it was possible it had nothing to do with the package she received, still... He straightened a bit as she mentioned the writing might match the package. Well that was convenient. He started to look for an envelope. Professor Brown was meticulous. Most of the letters had been with an envelope. It had kept them somewhat organized. He found it. "Randolph T. Smith." He read the address and looked at Bea. "He lives in Glasgow." He told her. That was near four hundred miles from them. They would have to take an airship or steam train to get there. Assuming the man still lived there. He handed her the envelope. "Does it match?" He inquired.

Mentally, he thought about the best way to get to Glasgow. Airship would probably be the best method. There were ships in town they could hire. He knew of one captain that had just came in recently. He had a smaller vessel. They might be able to hire him. Assuming of course he was still in town and was interested in heading to Northern England. He was more concerned though, about them still being there. The captain had a bit of a wanderlust and kept moving. However, Roger felt that if the man was still here, he might be willing to go to Northern England. Roger had helped him out on one or two occasions and though they weren't chums they were a bit more than just an acquaintance.

He looked back at Bea. He tried to remember if there had been a Randolph when he had worked with Professor Brown. He couldn't remember one but then again, he didn't know a lot of the people that came around. Besides, if Randolph was truly the man that sent the package, it was doubtful they had been in contact for a long time. However, Roger did wonder, how did those following Professor Brown miss this? They had to have gone through his stuff. Wouldn't they have suspected? Or was the probable one time visit not worth it to them?
----
He shrugged. "There was no way we could have figured out that part was going to break." He said getting nervous. There was none. None that he knew. If he was honest with himself, he would admit he wasn't the best mechanic but despite himself, he was a good one. In fact, something like this most mechanics would have missed. It was only the very few, the very talents, that had the specific ear that would have caught this. However, the fact that he blew it off and didn't even investigate the warning was what got him into trouble. However, prideful as he was, he still couldn't believe that some...girl, a delivery one at that, could have known where he didn't.

He shook his head. "It is near impossible for anyone to have known. The only way the girl would have known is if she had done something." He shrugged. "She might not have but how then did she know?" His eyes narrowed. "There is no feasible way she could have known? There was no feasible way I could have known."

This was a setback and he found that it was very difficult when one didn't have underlings to put the blame on. Not that he did anything wrong. It was always someone else's fault. He was well decorated. He knew what he was doing. He served on many grand ships as head mechanic. If the captain didn't understand that, then that's his fault. "We can get the part replaced and should be good to go." He said, deciding that he was done defending himself. It wasn't like they'd get rid of him.

Bea nodded slightly in her concentration of flipping through to see if she could find that little symbol again. “Vaguely,” she said offhandedly almost. “I don’t recall most of my father’s friends surnames unless they were type to insist being called by them. Most of them, who were any close to my father, asked that I called them uncle and their Christian name”

She looked up at him then, smiling a little bit. “And people move. So it’s the best as we have and as thus, we’ll look into it. Even if we’re wrong and he isn’t the source of the package, he might know something more than we don’t.” Something that wasn’t covered over with nostalgia and the film of youth. “Besides,Glasgow is not that far, especially if we go by air. Even a train wouldn’t be too terrible.”

She stood then, rather suddenly. She knew that there was more to find in the notes and letters and so many other things to go through. But they had something now and she was actually little excited about this now. “Do you happen to have any connections that would be willing to take us up to Lowlands?”



Rebeca felt a flash of anger in her chest. He was trying his damndest to place blame elsewhere. To not admit that he was wrong. Everyone was wrong now and again. And sometimes other people told them so before it could happen. But to accuse Estella of tampering with something, and then to not say it out right, but still accuse Rebeca of lying was not alright.

“How dare you,” she started, stepping forward only one step before Will caught her wrist in his big hand and pulled her back.

“You aren't the captain here, Becs,” he said softly to her, pulling her closer to his side. “She does have a point though. As I'm sure you know, the issue is you not having looked into it. I'm going to let you fix it though.” And all that was, was a promise that he'd be employed through the fix, not necessarily any further.

Roger stood as Bea got up. "I have someone who might be able to take us," he said. "I'm not sure he's still in town as he likes to keep moving. He's an American with an airship. I saw his ship the other day at the docks. If he's still here, there's a good shot he will be willing to take us. And he's fairly reasonable. He won't be that expensive comparatively." At least from the couple times Roger saw, however, he wasn't concerned. The man was honorable and would give them a fair price.

"If you want, I can head over to the docks now and see if he's still there." He picked up his hat. "If he is, when would you want to leave? I'm assuming in a couple weeks right?" His face was serious but there was a bit of humor in his voice as he teased her.

No, he understood her desire to check this out quickly. He wanted to as well. Not only was he curious as to what her father left behind, but the quicker they looked into this, the quicker they might be able to understand what those who murdered her father were really after. Understand that, and you might be able to figure out who to watch for and possibly bring them to justice. He truly hoped that would be the case. Bea deserved closure on this. The whole fact that Professor Brown's death had been murder and not something natural probably made the anniversary more difficult for her. He couldn't imagine what she felt or thought. Sure his father died when he was young but he wasn't murdered. And something like that no doubt made it even harder. Especially as they were still lose and posing a threat to her. Not that he would let anything happen to her. Not while he was there.

He nodded, just ready for this to be over with. They didn't understand. He did what any mechanic would do. No self-respecting mechanic would waste a ton of time looking at every little thing some delivery girl pointed out. She must have gotten lucky. There was no way she could have figured that out. Unless she was responsible. But he wasn't going to push that. No. They wouldn't believe him and the Captain's daughter didn't seem to fond of the fact. She had acted as if this had been a personal assault on her own integrity. Like he would be foolish enough to do that.

So instead, he nodded, humbly - or as humble as he could make himself look. "Yes, Captain. I'll replace it and then do a full investigation of the engine room to make sure we are good to take off." blah, blah, blah. He'd look but probably not do to deep of an 'investigation'. There was no point. He knew what the issue was, now, and would fix it. But, he'd say what he needed to say. As much as the Captain needed him, captains were a bit prideful. If you didn't kiss up to them, they might get offended and not listen to reason. He had seen it many a time. Sometimes you even had to take the fault (or blame the fault on some subordinate) despite the fact it was no one's fault - or it was the captain's fault.

"Unless you needing anything further, I'll get on it right away, Sir," he said. Hopefully that would end this conversation. He'd fix the engine and they'd be good. In a few days it will be quickly forgotten, almost as if this never happened. Though, he kept the frown he felt from his face. That meant he now had to get a new part. Ugh. He was going to have to face that little tramp and have her rub it in his face that he needed the part - despite the fact, there was no feasible way it should have broken. Well, technically he could find another part store. How difficult would it be to find that particular part here? Especially as this was London. Another idea came to him. "Sir, it would be quicker if someone ran out and picked up the part while I start taking apart the engine to get to the broken one. Otherwise, we won't be able to take off until later this evening, if not tomorrow." Maybe if the daughter went, then he wouldn't have to trek around town looking for another part store.

She stuck her tongue out at him childishly at his teasing. "No, but a few days at least. Got to get things together after all." There was a lot of packing to be done. She didn't know if this would turn into a very long trip, or just a few days jaunt up to Scotland to see an old friend of the family for nothing more than apologies and reminiscing about her father.

"You don't have to rush out to see him right this moment though," She sighed, rubbing at the back of her neck some. Even if she wanted to set things up right away, she didn't really want to send Roger out so soon either. Though it was drawing closer to supper time every minute.



Will had nodded his approval of the current situation. "That will be all, for now," he said, starting to head out of the room with Rebeca in tow when Frederick spoke again.

"I'll go," Rebeca volunteered. "I don't mind."

Will shrugged slightly. "Whatever you like, Becs." Looking back to Frederick he nodded his head saying, "tell her what you need then."

She waited just long enough to get him to write it down for her, which he did begrudgingly, before she was off to fetch the part. And maybe the girl again too.

Roger paused. He didn't really want to go but at the same time, he knew that one could never tell with the captain if he was going to take off or stick around. And though they probably could find other passage, but Roger knew this captain would give them a fair price - one that would probably be below the going rate. Not that he would ask. No. He really wanted to use this captain because he knew him. He was a fair man and a friend. And if whenever he could, Roger helped out his friends. Not to mention, the man really didn't have a large crew so there wasn't any concern about male crew members giving Bea a hard time. Some of the other passenger airships didn't have the best of crews. But not this man. It was just him, his daughter, and a very gentle old mechanic.

He didn't have to make the decision. "What is he doing here?" Ms. Mortimer's voice cut in. She entered the kitchen and glared at Roger as if he was the spawn of the devil. She pointed a finger at him. "What are you doing here?" She demanded.

"I came to help, Be...Ms. Brown, out, Ma'am." He said holding his hat politely in front of him. "We've stayed out here the whole time."

She narrowed her eyes and then turned her irr on Bea. "What were you thinking bringing him in here without permission? You know better!" She would have continued but Roger spoke up again.

"I offered to help her, Ma'am." It was the truth and she didn't like him anyway so he didn't mind her wrath coming down on him.

"Humph. It's unsubtle for a young man to be left alone with a young lady." Ms. Mortimer pointed her nose toward the door, dismissing him. "Now, leave."

The mechanic kept the grin off his face. He didn't want them to realize how happy she was doing this and not him. Writing down the part needed - no way the airhead female would even remember the name of it, let alone what it was - he gave Rebecca the piece of paper. "He'll know what it is, Miss." He said politely. He watched her leave before turning, finally alone. He scowled at the engine. Cursing under his breath at getting yelled at, not to mention having to get back and work in an area that wasn't the easiest access, he sighed wishing that he had an underling to punish.

"Aye, Captain Axford's ship?" Rufus grinned, showing several missing teeth. His shop was a mess of parts and sounds. But Estella was nowhere to be seen. A door behind the counter was partially open revealing an empty room with a fold up bed and a desk of junk in different piles. "Yeah, Estella said ye might be comin' in 'ere." He walked toward a row of shelves on the wall, also behind the counter. "'his 'ere part is what ye needed." He came and set it down. "Paid fer a'ready." He gave the pretty young woman a grin. Though she seemed very out of place in his junk shop.

He frowned as if remembering something. "Oh an' she said ye might be needing a few other parts. Somethin' about possibly secondary damage." He frowned. "Though, why ye didn't ask fer the parts in the first place was beyon' me." He held up his hands. "Not that Ise judgin'. And don' blame 'er either." He looked at her. "Ye have a list?"

Apparently she didn't and seemed a bit surprised at the fact that she would be needing additional parts. "Yer mechanic did't send ye with a list?" Rufus shook his head. Wasn't his place to judge but seemed like a waste of time. First order some parts but not everything. Then send a pretty girl to get one part and not anything else. He quickly shot her a look. "Ye a'int the mechanic are ye?" That would have been bad. Though if she was, she was a bad one at that.

Beatrix had been distracted, thinking about what to do, what to pack, and about 80 million other things she needed to think about just then. So she'd not heard Ms. Mortimer come down the steps from her room and down the hall to the kitchen. She turned to look at the older woman, blinking in a little bit of surprise.

“Ms. Mortimer,” she said, trying to cut in as she chided them about him being there. They were in a public room, with all the doors into the room either open or at the very least unlocked and unbarred. It wasn't like they were in a position to get up to anything. And it wasn't like she, including Ms. Mortimer, didn't know him. And it was very obvious that they had done nothing sinister at all.

But finally she'd been ruffled enough by her dousing her optimism with her unfounded dislike of Roger. “If he is going, so am I,” she said with a finality to her tone.

“You most certainly are not,” the old woman said, shaking her head as she came into the room more.

Bea started to gather up the papers without looking back at her. “I am old enough to know how to handle myself. You are not my mother, I will go out with whom I please. It is 1930 Ms. Mortimer, I should hope that we can start moving forward."



Rebeca seemed a little confused when he asked her about the other parts. “No, just this one,” she said with a little shake of her head. She was a little disappointed that it didn't seem like Estella was there just now. She could use her help she was sure.

When the man asked if she was the mechanic she brought her blue eyes back into focus on him and snorted a laugh. “Ah not in the slightest. I'm just being errand girl at the moment. Is Estella not here at the moment? I have a feeling she'd be very helpful at the moment back on the ship."

As much as he was glad Bea backed him, Roger didn't want to see her at odds with Ms. Mortimer. She did rent from the lady and the woman could decide to kick her out. "That's fine, Bea. I probably should go find that captain anyway. He's one of those that always likes to stay on the move. I want to make sure I catch him before he takes off again. If he knows he's got," he paused realizing that with Ms. Mortimer on her leaving would probably be something Bea would want to do. Knowing her, she'd probably wait until the day and just say she was leaving. And he didn't blame her. Ms. Mortimer would throw a fit if she knew they were both going to take off. Not that they would be alone. The captain had a daughter so everything would be proper.

Though he knew they would not do anything, at the same time he understood the propriety of things. He didn't want Bea's name or reputation tarnished. Thus why he was careful about certain areas with her. Holding his hat, with his hand he nodded to Ms. Mortimer and then smiled at Bea. "I'll catch you tomorrow, Bea, and let you know."

"Let her know what?" Ms. Mortimer growled annoyed. Young men were always up to no good. She didn't like them. Always scheming and wanting things without committing. Men in general were bad, in her opinion.

Roger gave her a patient smile. "Let her know regarding a project we are working on." He didn't say anything more. First off, it wasn't his to say, and second it was none of her business.


Oh that was a lot better. Rufus felt relieved. Wouldn't have been good - either for business or general - to insult a ship's mechanic to their face. His face brightened at the mention of Estella. "No. She a'int 'ere at the moment. But she'd be right good 'elp for you. Miracle worker 'hen it comes to anything mechanical. 'ever seen somebodies with a gift like 'er." He touched his ear. "Got an ear to 'ear the slightest ticks of a mechanic and a brain to solve any mechanical mess." He boasted. Despite the lack of bloodlines, he was right proud of her.

"Youse can probably find 'er at the tavern down the street - Golde' Plum." He shook his head. "She volun-teired to get dinner 'for the main rush. Youse can wait 'ere or can head that way iffin you want. Or I can sen' 'ere your way." He offered.

Beatrix sighed heavily as she finshed gathering up her papers and with an armful of it all she headed straight past Ms.Mortimer and out the kitchen door. "It is none of your business," she said simply as she passed the older woman. "You need not know everything about my life." And it wasn't just because she was annoyed at her stepping in like she was doing, but also because despite how obnoxious she could be, she was a a harmless old woman. She didn't need to know and then be put into danger for knowing.

Ms. Mortimer followed after her, dark full skirts russling as she went. "Ms. Brown," she said with a tone that was very motherly. "While you remain under my roof, I am care taker. That means I need to know your comings and goings."

Bea stopped at the foot of the stairs and looked at her evenly through her glasses. "If you must know, I am going on a trip to see some friends. Roger is accompanying me there."

Ms. Mortimer looked as if she had been stabbed in the chest, a thin hand coming up to rest on her sternum in her shock. "Going with a...a... man ? Alone? Out of the question. I forbid it."

"As I've already told you, you are not my mother. Roger is the most upstanding gentlemen I've ever known. I am going, he is coming. And you have no say either way. Now, if you will excuse me, I need to put this away and fetch my coat."



Rebeca smiled at him. "I think I'll go find her, if you don't mind that," she said with a nod of her head. She was sure that he wouldn't mind. "I'm sure I'll see you soon." And with that she gave him a little wave and turned on her heel to head out to find the errant mechanic.

She had been to London a few times over the year, but she would never say that she was overly familiar with the place. It had taken her a few minutes to find the parts shop as it was. And even if the tavern was just down the road, that didn't mean she might not get lost on the way. But not going wouldn't help her learn her way any. Thankfully the place wasn't too terribly hard to find, and she walked into the tavern that was already starting to grow busy, with blue eyes looking around to see if she could spot Estella among the patrons.

Roger stayed out of the slight discussion though he could hear them from down the hall. He probably should go but it seemed like Beatrix was going to come with him, so he waited. He didn't like to cause issue. Ms. Mortimer undoubtedly meant well - even if she was a bit biased against men. He briefly wondered what might have happened to get her so antagonistic against men in general. But it wasn't his business and he was anything but prying. He wouldn't butt his nose in anyone's business unless absolutely necessary. Still, from an outsider's perspective, there had to be something to cause this. It was more than concern about Beatrix's safety.

He acted nonchalant as they came back into the room. "She'll be home at a reasonable hour, Ms. Mortimer," he promised. He nodded and heading toward the door and opened it for Bea. He smiled at the older woman once more, politely and kindly though she only glared in response.

Muttering something about crazy youth and unscrupulous young men, she glared at Bea. "Dinner is in one hour, Ms. Brown." She narrowed her eyes. She didn't go out and say it but she implied that she wanted the young woman there.

Roger followed Bea out the door. Putting on his hat he refrained from saying anything as they headed down the street toward the docks. He listened to her, letting her get any frustration out. Personally, he didn't care how Ms. Mortimer saw him. It did get frustrating a bit but he could deal with it. In a way they both had Bea's reputation and interest at heart.


The tavern was starting to fill up. A woman dressed a bit immodestly played the piano in the corner as several others went around serving. A couple people glanced Rebeca's way as she entered, then they quickly looked back again. The clientele of the establishment were more blue collar: dock workers, laborers, mine workers, and the like. And a woman like Rebeca brought many looks. One man rose and hiking up his pants came over. "Lookin' for someone darlin'?" He inquired.

"Oh off 'er, John." One of the server girls said, pausing from heading to a table. "She a'int your type." She then continued on not bothering to interfere.

In the corner table, Estella's nimble hands worked as she repaired the broken watch. Tiny pieces lay on the table around her as about half a dozen other tinkerers and onlookers watched over her shoulder. "There you go." She straightened as she put the cover back on. She turned and handed the watch to one of the onlookers. "Good as new." She smiled, her eyes drifting over the room. They flickered slightly upon seeing Rebeca. Wasn't the girl from that ship? What was she doing here? Estella frowned as one of the locals moved in on the woman. "Excuse me." She brushed through the tinkerers and made her way toward the other girl.

"Seein' anyone?" John asked grinning at Rebeca.

"There you are." Estella cut in. "I thought you were going to stay with the ship?" She smiled at the larger man. "Thanks for welcoming her, John. And for keeping the other guys off. You know how they can get." She steered Rebeca away before he could even respond. She looked at the other woman. "He means well but he just got off a long tour over the Atlantic. No women." She said leading Rebeca to the bar. She didn't ask why Rebeca was here. She had a guess it had to do with her. She hoped the young woman wasn't here to argue about her buying the part.

Beatrix gave Ms. Mortimer a little shrug as she buttoned up her coat. "Dully noted," she said simply. She knew that she wanted her home, but she wasn't certain that she'd be coming back until after the dinner hour was over or not, so she didn't say one way or the other.

She was surprisingly quiet for her, mostly fuming in silence as they walked. There was no point in raging about someone who was truly only trying to look out for her well being. If she wasn't so ridiculous about everything, Bea wouldn't mind so much. Especially with Roger. He'd proven he was a gentleman, that he also only looked out for Bea's well being and that he wasn't after anything immodest with her.

"I'm sorry you had to hear that," she said after a few moments. "I shouldn't have reacted like that."



Rebeca was not at all surprised by the reaction she git when she came into the tavern. That was rather common. She was pretty enough to turn the eye of a few men, buy add in her red hair and suddenly she was very desirable to many. She smiled sweetly at the man who was the quickest to approach her. "Of course I am," she laughed, waving a little at the waitress who did little to discourage her would be suitor.

Before she could answer further, Estella was there, butting in. She waved at John as she was steered away, laughing a little bit. That she wasn't surprised to see her didn't escape Rebeca any. "I'm used to it," she smiled. "He was at least relatively nice about it. I mean, he kept his hands to himself, that's better than a lot of men, sadly."

She assumed that they'd be there long enough to have a drink. So when they were at the bar, she got the barkeep attention and order herself a mug of ale.

Roger glanced over at Bea. "I'm sure it gets a bit frustrating," he said. No doubt she felt a bit confined in by Ms. Mortimer. The woman was could be a bit difficult. And that was with him not living under the same roof as her. Bea had to deal with a lot more than he did, and it probably didn't help she was the land lady.

They walked toward the docks. Airships of all shapes and sizes were parked, taking off, or landing. It was a hubbub of activity, despite the late afternoon hour. "You'll probably like the Captain." Roger spoke up as they entered the airfield. "He's a bit of a quieter individual - kind of like me." He gave her a smile. "Though probably more so. Does got a wonderlust though. American. He's got a small crew - his daughter and an older man who is their mechanic. Nice ship. A bit old but comfortable. I haven't ridden in it but I've been in it." He wanted to give her an idea of the vessel and crew before they got there.

They rounded the bend and Roger smiled seeing the airship. Good. He was still here. Roger had been a bit afraid that he had already gone. He lifted a hand in greeting at a passing acquaintance as they came up to the ship. A thin wiry man stood at the entrance glancing at a watch and looking annoyed. His eyes narrowed on them. "Can I help you?"

"I'm here to see, Captain Axford." Roger looked at the man curious. "Are you here to see him as well?"

The man smirked. "I'm the mechanic." He puffed out his chest. "Best there is out there."


Seeing as she still needed to wait for her order - not to mention Rebeca was undoubtedly here for her and looked like she wanted to talk here, Estella sat on the bar stool. Well - partially. She angled herself to still watch the tavern as well as face the barkeeper if needed. She watched the local color. She wasn't too concerned about being bothered. Ever since she had improved the bartender's drink dispenser he had been a lot more friendly and had made it known that she wasn't to be bothered. Not that it would have mattered. Though not a fighter, she did grow up with four brothers and had learned a few things since being on her own that helped. She had too. Being a female tinkerer in a predominantly male industry had its challenges.

The bartender brought Rebeca her drink and then turned and set Estella's done. She smiled, having not even had to tell him what she wanted. She did come her a bit. "Thank you Erick."

He nodded. "Brewed just the way you like it."

She smiled and picked up the mug of tea. She looked at Rebeca curious as to why the girl had come here. "Did Rufus send you here?" She asked.

She'd been on a few airships in her life. Only a few though. So the sight of all of them moored up was awe inspiring. She walked with her eyes focused on the ships, trusting that Roger would make sure that she didn't walk into anyone. Thankfully she made it there without any incident and stood looking at the Valkyrie. She was an old ship. But she was well loved, that was obvious.

When Roger spoke with the other man, she brought her attention over to him at last, looking confused. "I'm sure," Bea replied, not sounding it. People who self boasted of being the best rarely ever were. "Is the captain here, now though?"

The man crossed his arms over his chest, looking behind him for a moment. "He is," he said simply, not stopping them from going aboard, but not being overly welcoming either.



Rebeca murmured her thanks for her drink, taking a sip from it before replying. "Sorta," she shrugged. "He said I could find you here and I decided to come down. A drink sounded good after all." She pulled a little cigarette case out of a pocket on her skirt, pulling a cigarette out of it and laying it open on the bar top with a gesture to Estella that she could have one if she wished.

She didn't light it up right away, but instead held it in her fingers as she looked at the other woman. "That thing you said was a problem, was one. This afternoon. And the fool had the audacity to blame you. Said you must have done something to it because you couldn't have known otherwise."