A/N- I certainly do not own the Levithan series. To believe so would be ridiculous. Also, thanks to Laeve for betaing for me.
Nora pulled on the fingers of her glove one by one. As she reached the pinkie she grabbed the hem, which had ridden up to her wrist, and pulled it back down again. She sighed heavily. There was not as much to do on the Leviathan as one might expect when one had no desire to read or chat with the airmen. So she found herself looking out a wide window, absently pulling on her gloves. It was either that or to content herself with ordering Dylan around for no real reason (the boy's comments amused her, especially when he was somewhat annoyed), but he was on egg duty and it would be insufferably hot.
"Enjoying the view, Doctor Barlow?" a cool voice asked behind her. Nora's eyes went to the reflection in the glass. Volger. She'd been absorbed in her thoughts of boredom, so she hadn't heard him approach. Of course, it was also possible that she hadn't heard him approach because he quite simply hadn't wanted to be heard. She had no doubt that Volger could sneak around proficiently when he needed to. Actually, she had the suspicion he'd already been sneaking around the Leviathan, but it was no real business of hers. As far as she knew, there was nothing on the ship he shouldn't see that wasn't properly guarded.
"Quite. Aerial views are usually very nice," she replied, looking again at the ground stretched out beneath the bulge of the window.
"Yes," he said simply. He was silent for a moment and then stepped forward. "Would you mind if I joined you?"
She raised an eyebrow, "No, although I don't see why you would choose to. There are other windows, Count Volger."
"Perhaps I desired some conversation," he said, not looking at her.
"Alright, then. I can be loquacious when presented with someone who is my intellectual… well, almost equal," she said breezily. His eyes slid to her reflection and regarded it witheringly. She smiled with bright innocence and teasingly exclaimed, "Why, Count Volger! You mean to say you don't know what loquacious means?"
"German is my first language, Doctor Barlow. Not English," he said simply. She smiled, as pleased with her small victory as a child is with a biscuit they've succeeded in wheedling out of their parents. Of course, she'd counted on him not knowing too many long, obscure words in English, just as she probably didn't know every long, obscure word in German. If he had understood, it would have been most disappointing.
"It means wordy and talkative," she said, smiling serenely. She had the feeling Volger was not someone particularly fond of being teased, which made teasing him a good sport.
Perhaps Nora wouldn't pass the day in total monotony after all.
"Of course it does," Volger said coolly, eyes sliding back to the landscape laid out beneath them. He muttered something to himself, low enough that Nora couldn't make out the words or even whether it was English or German or another language altogether. She had no doubt he knew several.
"What was that?" she asked, a little more interested than she let on. The man could be tiresome when he chose to be, but he was a good choice for intelligent conversation. He was probably the second-most-intelligent person on board, after herself, of course. Even good breeding was not quite a match for the education and life of a scientist.
"Nothing that would interest you, I'm sure," he said blandly.
"Oh, I beg to differ," Nora said sweetly. "I'm very interested. Enlighten me."
"I was just commenting on the temperature of the room," he lied smoothly. Of course, he knew by now that Nora was a sneak as sure as he was a sneak, and as such expected nothing much from him but lies and, well, sneakiness. He didn't really expect to fool her. He was doing his best to toy with her, now. Which she wouldn't have advised anyone to try. Nora didn't like being played with.
"Somehow I am not convinced," she responded dryly.
"The lovely weather outside, then," he answered immediately.
"Mm, no, try again."
"How beautiful you look in that dress."
"Why, thank you," she replied.
"You aren't going to argue with me any longer?" he asked. She smiled.
"No, no. I'm quite satisfied with this answer."
Volger snorted and shook his head slightly, "You are an odd one, Doctor Barlow," he said. She raised her eyebrows.
"Really? How so?"
"Where to begin?" he said. "To start, it's fairly odd that you would have advanced so far in your career, being a woman." He saw her open her mouth to object and held up his hands. "Now, I'm not doubting your brilliance, but the fact is a woman in any sort of business or trade is bound to receive heavy opposition. However, I expect that allowances were made for one of your bloodline."
She nodded, "Yes. It would take an ignoramus to try to hold a Darwin back from pursuing the field of science. Well, go on. How else am I odd?"
"You seem very independent. Of course, I know a great many independent people, but you seem different. It seems like you choose not to need people, not to get close to them; and instead to simply banter and order. Which is certainly your choice," he informed her.
"I wouldn't say that," she said, feeling not quite offended, but certainly that she needed to set him straight. "I need people as much as the next person. I am just… very particular."
"Very," he agreed. "So much so that I wonder if there is a single person who can claim the honor of truly knowing you. Certainly there isn't one on this ship."
She smiled, "I do have friends, Count Volger. Although, I must admit they are not aboard the Leviathan."
"Mm, what a pity," he said. "I'd like to meet someone you hold in high esteem. I'm sure they would be extraordinary."
"Oh, they are. Intellectuals and artistic genii and-"
"If you please, I would like to meet these supposed friends; but not to hear merely their accolades parroted back to me," he interrupted.
Nora glared, her playful manner gone. "I don't appreciate being spoken to that way," she said coldly.
"I assumed so. Which is why I said it," Volger replied.
"Well, if you've exhausted all other topics of conversation and are left with only insolence, perhaps it is time for you to find your own window, sir," she said.
"Oh, but I haven't. I'm not close to finished analyzing you, my dear. I merely wanted to make you upset," he answered.
Nora started tugging at her glove again, now out of mild anger rather than boredom. "And how exactly do you think upsetting me will make me a better target for interrogation, Count Volger?"
"Because I wanted to see a little… emotion from you, other than smarm and breezy superiority."
"Smarm?" she snorted. "Smarm? To grease down one's hair?" Volger frowned. Of course, it also meant excessive but superficial compliments of the sort they'd been exchanging, but she felt a strange need to come out on top of that one argument, even if meant not playing quite fair.
"I meant the double-edged comments you make," he said. "You're quite unapproachable, you know. Even when you aren't being… antisocial; you tend to whirl in, accomplish whatever goal led you to where you are, whirl out, and leave everyone else just drifting in your wake. You move through everything so quickly and seem to let it exert so little influence on you. It is odd, to say the least. But fascinating."
"Well, at least I'm fascinating. I suppose that's some consolation," she said.
"There it is. Shrugging everything off with some sarcastic comment and plowing right ahead," he said.
She pulled her eyes away from the window for the first time and turned her head to look at him, "Are you quite finished?"
"No. Not close to finished," he said.
"Well, get on with it then," she huffed. It had occurred to her that she could simply walk away; but to leave now would be admitting defeat, and the idea was not to her liking.
"Very well. You seem to throw yourself into your work almost exclusively. Do you have any other interests besides science and secret missions involving strange eggs?"
"Yes," she replied quickly. "I was reading before I came here."
"What was it?" Volger asked.
"Shakespeare," she lied easily. She'd been rereading some of her grandfather's theories, but she didn't want to tell him that. She figured he'd lump that in with "science".
"Alright. You're afraid to have fun," he replied smoothly.
"What?" she blustered indignantly. "William Shakespeare is a great artist and very enjoyable to read!"
"Oh, I agree," Volger replied. "I'm talking about the way you're lying to me to make yourself look better. You're taking this altogether too seriously, you know."
She laughed, although it was more to show that he hadn't knocked her the least off balance - although he had; she'd believed her lying to be quite convincing, but he'd seen through her easily - than a natural reaction to his words.
"I take myself too seriously? I must say, Count Volger, you've perfected the art of taking things too seriously. That is one art in which your expertise far surpasses my own," she said.
"I don't know, Doctor Barlow. I, for one, have ample reason to take myself seriously. You, as far as I know, have only an obsession with an ungodly clutch of eggs and your career," he replied. Nora felt his words like a sharp twig stuck in her boot.
"Oh, if you only knew what-" Nora began, before stopping mid-sentence, cursing herself mentally. She wasn't going to say anything about the eggs and there was no way he was going to prod her into it. He already knew they were important, of course, everyone did. But she was going to be very careful that nobody (and especially a Clanker - even a Clanker on the run from his own government) was going to learn any more than that. He could still be a spy. He certainly seemed the type, observant and deceptive. Yes, he must be a spy; and all those other men with him were part of his cover.
But then why would he have brought Alek? The boy couldn't lie to save his life. Not the sort of person you'd want on a spy mission. Unless that was part of the character he was playing. But no, she had the feeling his obliviousness was no act. Which was too bad for him, but good for her. She ruled out Count Volger's being a spy.
"If I only knew what?" he asked.
"Oh, doesn't matter," she sighed. "If you will excuse me, I'll need to go remind Mr. Sharp to take Tazza for a walk. He's probably drawing. Lost track of time." She turned on her heel and marched away from the window with every intention of leaving then and there.
"Are you married?" Volger asked suddenly. She spun around to glare at him.
"I swear, for someone of such impeccable breeding, you have remarkably little tact," she growled. "Insult me and then ask me a personal question like that? Honestly!"
"Are you?" he asked. She glared at him for a moment.
"Yes," she snapped and turned again, leaving the man behind at the window.
"Well, you still look quite beautiful," he muttered.
The door banged open and Deryn jumped. Dr. Barlow's face was screwed up in a horrible expression and she muttered furiously to herself about a "nosy old codger, who does he think he is?"
"What-" she began, hastily crumpling the drawing she'd been working on. Barlow never did like it when she drew on egg duty, which was a load of clart. It wasn't like she was going anywhere. The precious eggs were still safe.
"Mr. Sharp, I am here to relieve you of your egg duty. Take Tazza for a walk and send Alek in if you happen to see him," she ordered tersely.
"Um, I think he's still up with the engines, and-" Deryn tried to put in, still more than a little flustered at being caught slacking off on egg duty.
"Oh, I don't care! Just go!" Dr. Barlow exclaimed, sitting hard on a crate in the corner.
"Yes, ma'am," Deryn muttered, grabbing the thylacine by the collar and scooping up his leash on the way out the door.
"Barking mad boffin!" she muttered as she strode down the hallway. "You're lucky to be a dog- well, dog-ish thing, anyway –Tazza. It's got to be so much easier!" she exclaimed.
"Woof!"