AC Syndicate: Isolated Files [OS]

Blackbird

For this short story, I am doing a little anachronism. In those days, birthdays were not celebrated. (Chapter image by me)

_________

Thatcher served a customer before noticing that Jacob was unusually pensive. As soon as he had finished with his regular, the forty-year-old turned to the Assassin.

"Well, Jacob, you look like crap. What's the matter with you?"

"I despair," he sighed. "Tomorrow is Victoria's birthday, and I don't know what to get her," he said before taking a drink."

"You know, you don't have to get her anything," Thatcher reassured him. "A simple beer will be more than enough for her."

"It's her first birthday with me. I'm not just going to get her a beer. I'd like to give her a present that will make a difference."

"Since when does Jacob Frye want something special," Thatcher scoffed.

"Oh shut up," sighed the Assassin before taking another drink.

"Don't worry, I understand you," he reassured his friend, patting his shoulder. "I was the same with my wife."

"You know best what she likes, you've known her longer than I have. Tell me what would make her happy."

Thatcher took a few moments to think, his hand on his chin as Jacob's eyes filled with hope. Then the pub manager's pensive face lit up before being pulled into a smile.

"I know exactly what would please him. And you're lucky, I know a customer who has a kennel, he can help you."

Jacob was curious, and Thatcher motioned for him to come closer so he could whisper to him. Frowning at first, he leaned forward to listen to the information Thatcher was whispering in his ear. His face relaxed and lit up. It seemed like a good idea. When they both returned to their initial positions, he still looked at him quizzically. Thatcher nodded to him and said he couldn't think of a better way to give a meaningful gift.

"But it's no longer time for visitors," Thatcher said, looking at the clock. "Tell him you're coming for me, he'll give you a discount."

The next day

Victoria would not return from the suburbs until late afternoon, due to an assignment. Jacob still had to arrange for the occasion to present her with his gift, which he had already bought in the morning. He only had to come and get it at the end of the day. The Assassin then thought of the Valentine's Day party*, which was perhaps the best context in which he could reveal his gift to her, even if his partner was not fond of romance. Not being much of a cook or decorator, Jacob went to see Agnes, who was in charge of the Rooks' treasury and often refilled the train's bar with liquor and snacks.

In the locomotive owner's office car, she was writing up an order. Jacob called to her without raising his voice too much. Without taking her eyes off the paper, without stopping to write, she asked him what he wanted.

"Do you remember the Valentine's Day dinner you made for us?"

"Yes, I do. You even took down the decorations," she said offended.

She was still angry at them for that. She had spent time and money preparing that little dinner for the two lovebirds, even though she had done it out of the kindness of her heart and not because she had been asked.

"Alright," admitted Jacob, rolling his eyes. "I apologize, and we thank you for the delicious dinner you gave us."

Agnes stopped writing and put down her pen before turning to Jacob.