The Players

It was an old store with a small bell above the door that tinkled when the door swung open. The dark clad man shook off the last drops of moisture on the outer layer of his jacket so like a dog shimmying water out of it's oily coat. The man at the counter looked up from reading some crap or other.

"Sir" said a voice not yet totally broken "Excuse me – sir?" he was a pimply teenager and so obviously not the man the entrant had been looking for. When he knocked down a book (or three) the boy behind the counter called to him again and watched as a heavy boot stood so deliberately onto a book leaving a large muddy footprint on the cover. This seemed to be too much for the assistant and he disappeared through the door just behind the counter.

He moved through the shelves more to the back just in time to catch the first man joined with a second. He could hear every breath, every word, every sound they made and chuckled softly to himself as he so often did since he went mad, it was a puzzling thought, was he still mad? Would he even know if he was? Does not knowing mean he still is?

He reached out a finger to touch an old spine and let it trace the impressed letters of gold and silver. It was a very out of place book being among all the new volumes, novels and stories. He continued moving further and further back until he found himself at a dead end in the darkness where the soft light couldn't find him or the books.

The shadows got darker and darker yet, "Where's the boss?" the voice that spoke surprised both his followers and they turned to look at each other. "I'm not asking again" when they looked back up he was facing them, slipping a book discreetly into the back of his pants hidden by his jacket.

The teen jutted his chin out, muddy brown eyes gleaming with a challenge which on any other day would have been taken up. "Why do you want him?"

"Business, kiddo" a dark brow raised as kiddo was punctuated with malice. The teen backed down and turned mumbling about hearing a customer. He was lying of course, the bell would have made it's small ringing sound and there would be footsteps, shuffling, breathing.

"We don't do drugs" grey eyes moved from the back of the acne crisis to the older assistant. The guy was eyeing him as though he were a criminal, well – valid point, but he was a simple muggle, with a muggle lifestyle and a muggle brain.

"I'm not after drugs," he paused to pick up a book, turning it over in his hands, it was a particularly heavy book, "I want your boss." He smiled at the double entendre only he understood at this point.

Looking at the title of the book and up again he gave a growl and moved passed, shoving the heavy book hard into the man's stomach. A satisfied smile teasing his lips when the clerk folded over with an oompf as the book winded him. "Gift wrap it for me"

The younger assistant was flirting shamelessly with a young woman buying a chemistry book, she didn't look too impressed with him but he was distracted by the leaving man, giving her a chance to place her money on the counter and follow the other man out.

Nathanial looked nonplussed for a moment until Charlie came up to the counter and dropped the heavy book on the sturdy table, then his expression fell even more "Gift wrap it and put it to the side!"

"So who was that guy?"

"I'm not sure Nate, but…"

The teen looked up "But what?"

Charlie shook his head "I don't know, I just – there's something about him."

The quizzical expression that crossed the teen's features was almost comical "Did he..um, did he look familiar to you?"

"You know him?"

The boy shook his head "No-I just" he shook his head again and shrugged his shoulders dismissively. "Never mind," a hand came to rest on his shoulder, a gentle comfort.

"How's things at home?" Nathanial's shoulders lifted and dropped again.

"Getting better"

TBC