Chapter Four #3
“Coffee.” The idea formed as he spoke. “But high-quality beans. The expensive kind he probably doesn’t buy for himself on a barista’s salary.”
Mabon’s eyebrows rose. “That’s...actually thoughtful.”
“Books,” Urien continued, warming to the concept. “If we could find out what he likes to read. Or supplies for his cat. Quality food, toys…”
“How do we find out what his cat eats without more surveillance?” Rux demanded.
“We could ask at the pet store in town,” Mabon said. “Casually. ‘What do most cat owners buy?’ That sort of thing.”
“That’s not suspicious?”
“It’s less suspicious than lurking outside his cottage with binoculars.”
Rux began pacing again. “So we leave useful gifts. Things that show we pay attention but don’t scream ‘wealthy dragons trying to buy your affection.’”
“Exactly.” Urien felt his dragon settle slightly. “Small things at first. A bag of premium coffee beans on his doorstep. Maybe some nice cat treats. Build slowly.”
“With notes?” Mabon asked.
“Simple ones. ‘Thought you might enjoy this.’ Nothing that requires response or explanation.”
“And if he gets concerned? If he thinks someone’s watching him?”
Because someone would have to be watching him. They couldn’t leave appropriate gifts without already knowing the sorts of things he’d like or needed.
“We’re very careful,” Urien said. “We observe from a distance…”
“More surveillance.”
“Discreet observation,” Urien corrected. “That is different.”
“The police don’t recognize the difference.”
“Then we don’t get caught by the police.”
Rux stopped pacing. “This could work. Start with something universal. Coffee beans - everyone who works in a coffee shop appreciates good beans. Then once we learn more about him, we can offer more specific gifts.”
“How do we learn more without talking to him?” Mabon asked.
“We talk to other people. The customers at the coffee shop. His neighbors. Find out his interests indirectly.”
“That’s gossip.”
“I’m calling it research.”
“It’s still creepy.”
“Less creepy than hiding in a car.”
Urien held up his hand. “Rux has a point. If we’re subtle about it, asking general questions, it’s no different than taking an interest in the community. ‘Oh, Sam at the coffee shop mentioned he has a cat, what kind of supplies would be good?’ That sort of thing.”
Mabon looked torn between agreement and concern. “And we’re certain this won’t terrify him?”
“More certain than if we arrived with rubies,” Urien said.
“Or property deeds.”
“Or gold coins that look like money laundering.”
“The bar is very low,” Mabon muttered into his whiskey.
The fire crackled. Wind rattled the windows. Somewhere in town, their Treasure was probably settling in for the evening with his cat, completely unaware that three dragon shifters were planning a carefully orchestrated gift-leaving campaign.
“Coffee beans tomorrow,” Rux said decisively. “I’ll go to that specialty shop in Cheltenham. Get something excellent. Single origin, fresh roasted…”
“Nothing too expensive,” Mabon warned. “We’re being subtle.”
“I know subtle.”
“From the man who wanted to give him chicken-egg-sized rubies.”
“That was before I understood the limitations of human comprehension.”
Urien smiled despite himself. “Coffee beans, with a simple note.”
“What does the note say?”
They all looked at each other.
“‘Enjoy’?” Urien offered.
“Too brief.”
“‘Hope you like these’?”
“Too casual.”
“‘From someone who appreciates your smile’?” Rux tried.
“TOO CREEPY! Damn it, Rux.”
“What’s creepy about appreciating someone’s smile?”
“When they don’t know who you are, everything.”
Mabon pulled out his phone, typing rapidly. “There are templates for anonymous gifts. Let me see... ‘A small token to brighten your day.’ That works.”
“It’s vague,” Rux said.
“Vague is safe.”
“Vague is boring.”
“Boring won’t get us arrested.”
Urien drained his whiskey. “We’ll figure out the note tomorrow. The important thing is we have a plan. A real plan. One that doesn’t involve police intervention or property crimes.”
“Or spontaneous combustion,” Rux added, eyeing Mabon.
“That was ONE time.”
“It was yesterday.”
“The newspaper was asking for it.”
“How does a newspaper ask for - never mind.” Rux stood, setting his empty glass on the sideboard. “Coffee beans tomorrow, along with a simple note, left discreetly at his doorstep when he’s not home.”
“How do we know when he’s not home?” Mabon asked.
Another silence.
“We can check his work schedule,” Urien said. “At the coffee shop. See when he’s working.”
“More surveillance, in other words.”
“I’m sure it’s public information.”
“Is it though?”
“It’s displayed on the shop window.”
“Is it?”
None of them actually knew if the Daily Bean posted employee schedules publicly.
“We’ll figure it out,” Urien said firmly. “The point is, we leave gifts. Small, thoughtful gifts that show we care without overwhelming him. Traditional dragon courtship, adapted for modern human sensibilities.”
“Dumbed down, you mean,” Rux muttered.
“Translated,” Mabon corrected. “We’re translating our intentions into a language he’ll understand.”
“The language of mysterious coffee beans left by anonymous admirers.”
“It’s better than nothing.”
“Is it?”
“It’s better than having the police question our motives.”
“That’s our new standard? ‘Better than police intervention’?”
Urien stood, moving to bank the fire. His dragon had settled somewhat, soothed by the prospect of action. He wanted to do something, even if that something was leaving premium coffee beans on their mate’s doorstep like some kind of caffeine-obsessed burglar.
“Tomorrow,” he said. “We start tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” Mabon agreed.
“Tomorrow,” Rux echoed, though he still looked like he wanted to argue for the rubies. But then Rux had always loved his bling.