(A/N): We're finally back in 1967 with Amelia, Logan, Spencer, Nolan, Aldin, Annette, and a whole host of background gardeners.

Trigger Warning: References (not direct ones, but still) to Cipicia's punishment/humiliation of Amelia (which is still ongoing), and child abuse/neglect (mentions of Leonides/Miasenna, there's really only one or two lines, and they're basically, 'yesterday was a bad day for Leonides', and 'the Joannis family is strange, particularly when it comes to their children'). Abuse of power in general (again, Cipicia's punishment of Amelia, and the way she runs the household). Sexual innuendo/joking flirting that may bother you given the context, and I honestly felt was a little iffy given the fact that Amelia is literally in the aftermath of being humiliated in a sexual sort of way by Cipicia- and is a joke about her being an exhibitionist really appropriate right now, Logan?- but to be fair, Amelia started it, and Logan was just following the vibes she was putting out. If he thought it made her uncomfortable, he wouldn't have done it, and she was fine with it, but I really think she wouldn't have been fine with it if Cipicia had either gotten it right (and put Nolan on the other end of things instead of Aldin), or gotten it wrong in a different way, and Logan had been the one she'd been forced to... 'tend to'. I also think she wouldn't have been okay with it if every other man in the room wasn't like, 'Oh my God Logan, SHUT UP!' Like if it was normalized, or people were laughing, or if she thought Logan actually meant it, she would've thrown hands (well... wand?), but since she knows Logan is just trying to flirt with her to distract from her relationship with Nolan, she sees it in a different way. But if my portrayal of that bothers you, please let me know, and I'll see what I can do to tweak it.


October 19th, 1967

Amelia

It was only through extensive years of training that I managed to keep my composure- and even so, something must have shown on my face, because I heard Logan snort in amusement from behind me. "That's... nice," I said, which was exactly the kind of pleasant platitude I'd been taught to use... albeit with a rather different target audience. "What- What does that mean, precisely?" It was not surprising in the least when Spencer's blush intensified.

"Well..." He hesitated, then proceeded with, "You tie your knots too tight." What? This time, I felt it when my brow furrowed- and Lovett's blatant enjoyment of my confusion wasn't helping any. "The owls are trained to drop the letters off and get back to work- when they can't get the letter loose, they go to the Owlery, above the Workshop. Or... they're supposed to- sometimes they come to me, instead." But... why? And did that mean he was privy to certain external details of the letters I'd sent, like who they were meant for? We hadn't physically addressed our letters for a long time- almost as long as we'd been writing them in code- since the owls only needed to be told who to deliver them to... but as far as I know, every single letter I'd sent had ended up where it needed to- so had the owl continued it's delivery after being released from my too-tight knot, or... had Spencer? And if he could decipher who the letters were for, how could Cipicia Joannis not?

"And... why is that?" I asked carefully, and he tilted his head at me in clear confusion. "Why do the owls come to you?" He opened his mouth, but I cut him off before he actually had the chance to say anything. "You, specifically- not humans, not gardeners, you. Have you made yourself a friend to them?"

His eyes widened at the question, before he flushed again; he glanced guiltily in Aldin's direction, where he was discussing the appropriate method for taking down the old oak with some of the other gardeners in the background, then turned his gaze back to me. "Yes, ma'am." I... hadn't been expecting him to actually say yes to that. "Mr Aldin says I shouldn't coddle them, but... well, you've seen them." Yes, they were feathery little nuisances, for the most part- but I guess not everyone saw them that way. "And I have a friend that works for Eeylops, so I get owl treats on the cheap- You're not interested in that, though, are you ma'am?" No, no I wasn't- but once again, I hadn't anticipated him recognising that.

"Not at the current moment, no. Spencer, you're very sweet, but I'm not having a good day, and-" His nod was surprisingly gracious, if a little awkward.

"Oh, I understand completely, ma'am- I don't think this is a good day for anyone, if we're being honest." Least of all for Leonides... but hopefully, there was still time for it to turn out better than yesterday.

I dusted Aldin's boots off one last time, and set them off to the side for him to collect. Once I had, I held a hand out to Spencer. "You're next." He stared at me blankly for a second, then shook his head.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, ma'am-" He cut himself off as I crossed my arms over my chest as petulantly as I could, now that I knew he was apparently susceptible to charm- although, I wasn't sure where on the scale from 'womanly' to 'owl-esque' my attempt was falling. "I- I didn't follow orders," Hm? "Mr Aldin told us not to clean our boots, but I thought- I thought it was because he knew we'd be doing something really mucky, so there was no point cleaning them if we were just going to get them dirty again. I don't mind cleaning my boots, I find it calming, actually- Uh... not that... I mean, it's not like-" I shot him a look, and he swallowed thickly, before getting back to the point instead of trying to backpedal. "I cleaned my boots last night. I'll take the laces out, and we can put them next to Mr Aldin's like you were the one that did them, but- they're already clean. Move on to someone else." Which was the only advice about 'moving on' I'd be taking, today.

I turned to Logan, who immediately shook his head- bowed as it was over his own half-scrubbed boots. "Don't start with me- if Montgomery can clean his own boots, so can I." It was slightly haughty, to hide the pointedness to his words- 'don't give Nolan special treatment, you're making it obvious'- and Nolan was cleaning his own boots, the hardheaded... sweetheart, so I sighed, and reached for the first set of boots in the line.

"Alright, but if Mistress Joannis catches us, I'm telling her you refused to 'let me tend to you'," I told him, and he snorted again, waggling his brows at me in a manner that was surprisingly joking in its suggestiveness.

"I didn't realise you were such a little exhibitionist, Miss Rochester- lucky for you, I'm willing to accommodate any and every dirty desire you may have." Even as I rolled my eyes at him, I prayed Nolan would be able to get a handle on that murderous look he was sending Lovett's way without me having to intervene.

A voice spoke up from behind us- over by the entrance to the Workshop- and I flinched involuntarily at the unexpectedness of it. Thankfully, it turned out to only be Annette, who had been keeping a conspicuously low profile up until now. "As long as she apparates back into the grand foyer, I'll see her coming well ahead of time," She said, and as I craned my neck to get a better look, I saw that she was holding the door open a few centimeters- just enough to be able to see through, but not be seen through. "She won't apparate here- too many people, too much movement; plus... well, I think she's made it pretty clear that she doesn't want to spend any more time here than is strictly necessary." Unlike me, and I suspected, Annette herself. It really wasn't such a bad place, once you got past the dirt, and the scent of man and sweat. It wasn't a smell of uncleanliness, mind you, it was the smell of a hard day's work- and maybe it was just because it reminded me of Nolan, but that smell was somewhat comforting to me.

"Thank you, Annette." There was quiet for a minute, at least among my immediate group of diligent little workers. "How are your hands, this morning?" I tilted my head before I said it, so I could see most of the room without much effort, and when I asked that, Aldin's head snapped up, and I saw a crease appear between his brows as he tried to inspect her hands from a distance. "Did you use the hand cream I gave you?" I arched one eyebrow, ever so slightly, in the hope that she would understand what I was hinting at- no one could know Mia had given her the hand cream- had even spoken to her. She seemed to understand just fine, because she nodded effusively.

"Oh, yes; it's very moisturising. I don't know how well it's going to withstand the rigours of my everyday duties, but they certainly feel a lot less dry." The men around us seemed bemused by this conversation, but Nolan couldn't seem to hide his fondness- likely thinking of the hand cream I'd been forcing him to use for months. It was for his own good, but I had disguised it by telling him I wouldn't let him touch me with rough hands- with dry skin. Because, after all, I wasn't sure I would mind a little roughness, as long as it was from him... but that wasn't Nolan's style. "You were right, though," Annette said, and I blinked.

"About what?"

She hesitated slightly, taking the time to rub her hands together as if testing the cream's effect. "The smell. I don't like it. And usually- I like roses, usually, but these- they don't smell right. I can see why you were eager to be rid of it." And by me, she meant... Miasenna. Hm. Maybe, there was more to this than meets the eye- like most things concerning the Joannis Family, and in particular... their children.


(A/N): Spencer is such an awkward little bean, and I love him.

Logan is immediately like, 'You two are shit at this, I don't know HOW you haven't gotten caught before this- here, let me muddy the waters a bit.'

Nolan is torn between 'soft, loving, gardener guy', and 'I will literally kill you if you don't stop hitting on my girlfriend, Lovett!'

Amelia is weirdly into the smell of dude sweat and dirt- and is secretly harboring hopes that Nolan will put being a gentleman aside for five minutes, apparently.

Aldin is concerned about Annette, but trying (poorly) to conceal it, even as he leads his men.

And Annette is a real g, and is playing the role of look out- all while helping Amelia further muddy the waters by lending lesbian undertones to their whole conversation. 'How are your hands, this morning? Did you use the hand cream I gave you?' reads like such a coded statement that that can't ACTUALLY be what they mean, RIGHT?

As of posting this, the next chapter I have to work on is chapter 500- which I think is the second to last chapter of the year, given that it's scheduled to be uploaded on the 28th. Unfortunately, I'm having a little bit of a trouble planning it out... I don't usually 'plan', necessarily, but I mean- I know what the basic idea is (AKA, whose POV it is, and the premise) but not... y'know, how to get there. I'm working on it though! The main thing keeping me from starting it was the fact that I knew it would entail introducing a bunch of side/super minor characters, which meant... well, creating, a bunch of those characters. Or at least, a list of names to be able to use for those characters. I've got that list now though, so I've got no excuse anymore. Let's a-go!