October 28th, 1891 — Ministry Break Room
Ford was tired. How had he managed to go out to dances as often as he had during the season? True, the Living and Dead Mixer had gone far later into the night than he'd anticipated (the Dead guests having very little appreciation for the concept of time in their current states), but it wasn't so much later than what he'd been used to when he was chaperoning Grace and Verity around everywhere that summer. Maybe what he was feeling today was less a specific reaction to being up the night before and more a collective weariness that had set in from this whole year. The Season was over, and that was a good thing, because Ford was just done with all of it. Not that the Season being over really relieved much of the pressure; now that Verity was courting they were going to just as many social events as she could find to fill her calendar, and when that resolved (if it did), it would only be a few short months of rest before they had to launch into the whole thing again, with Grace and Clementine (and maybe Verity, too — there was no real guarantee that a courtship meant anything, and he had a strange feeling about this one — he didn't trust it).
Luckily his workload was light this morning, and that was even considering that he'd been permitted to come in an hour later because of the ball the night before. Still, he was dragging his feet and felt he might benefit from — coffee, tea, something. He didn't even know exactly what, but suspected he'd find it in the break room. He walked down the hall on autopilot, found a cup and moved to pour — and spilled hot water all over his hand. Ford swore and dropped the cup, which shattered on the floor. The noise from the cup breaking startled him enough that he jumped and spilled more of the water from the kettle, part of which soaked his sleeve and the rest of which went soaring towards the nearest employee.
"Sorry, sorry," Ford said quickly. He put the kettle down before he could do any more damage and pulled out a handkerchief, pressing it up against the other man's now-wet jacket before he'd even had a chance to see who it was.
Luckily his workload was light this morning, and that was even considering that he'd been permitted to come in an hour later because of the ball the night before. Still, he was dragging his feet and felt he might benefit from — coffee, tea, something. He didn't even know exactly what, but suspected he'd find it in the break room. He walked down the hall on autopilot, found a cup and moved to pour — and spilled hot water all over his hand. Ford swore and dropped the cup, which shattered on the floor. The noise from the cup breaking startled him enough that he jumped and spilled more of the water from the kettle, part of which soaked his sleeve and the rest of which went soaring towards the nearest employee.
"Sorry, sorry," Ford said quickly. He put the kettle down before he could do any more damage and pulled out a handkerchief, pressing it up against the other man's now-wet jacket before he'd even had a chance to see who it was.
Set by Lady!