Oct. 29th, 2013

st_clare: (Bloody Hell...)
[personal profile] st_clare
London, England - 1978


The bottom line was, she wanted to be punished. If they'd punish her, perhaps she'd be satisfied.

Julianna and Edmund remained in Boston for a week after Allison's funeral. They spent the days touring the city, the evenings in the hotel bar, and the nights not talking. The time passed far too quickly. When it came time to fly back to London, the flight alternately was too long and too short. They arrived at Heathrow just before dawn, and he kissed her on the cheek when they said farewell.

She was wearing basic black when she arrived at Council headquarters, the color of mourning. She was terrified but resolute. If they sacked her, it was what she deserved. If they didn't sack her, she was going to turn in her resignation.

The Watcher's appointment was with Cyrus Claymore, a senior member of the Council. Julianna had never met the man, but she'd heard rumors. Her low heels made clicking noises on the highly-polished floor as she made her way down the hall. Portraits of other Watchers, now long dead, hung on the walls. She was vaguely surprised to see that Mother was not among them.

"Doctor Claymore?" She was amazed that her voice didn't shake. Was she supposed to use his professional title? I am Julianna St. Clare. Whatever happens, I deserve it

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