Birmingham, April 1893

[this_isaturn]

Toward the end of the day, David retreats to the sitting room, since no one's in to talk business, and sets to work brewing some tea. It's been... a rather unusual day, to say the least.

It's not every day women come charging into one's place of business waving swords. It's also not every day said women are shouting in another language - David thought it sounded like Chinese, but he isn't sure - until such time as one takes the sword away. She'd fallen to the floor, quite insensible, and when she was revived she was speaking perfectly normal English. David supposes he was lucky in finding the opening to get behind her and take the sword away.

Someone else came in and took the sword from the building, and that was the end of it, but the incident's been on his mind since then. It calls for tea, he thinks.

"That was excellent work earlier, Mr. Wolcott."

David nearly jumps out of his skin (thank goodness he wasn't holding anything that would spill) and turns around; there's a petite woman seated in one of the armchairs, smiling at him. "Oh, I'm sorry, I... didn't hear you come in." (He looks to the door, which he's sure he closed - it still is, and he knows he didn't hear the squeaky hinges.) "I - thank you?"

"You're welcome. Not everyone would have approached the problem quite like that." The woman has a faint trace of a French accent, David notices.

"Well, if I'd approached the problem head-on, I rather think I'd be dead." He almost apologises for taking refuge in sarcasm, but the woman grins.

"Indeed you would. Would you like a new job, Mr. Wolcott? It seems to me you're thoroughly wasted in this one."

David blinks; he hadn't been expecting that at all. "What - what sort of a job?"

"More of the same."

"What, more nearly getting stabbed?"

The woman laughs. "Don't be silly, Mr. Wolcott. Collecting things like that. Curiosities, if you will."

David raises an eyebrow. "Curiosities. Such as swords that grant someone fluency in another language?"

"And a homicidal rage against any man who gets in her way, yes. Very well spotted, by the way, most civilians miss things like that."

He can't see why that would be the case; it had seemed quite obvious to him. Still, the offer is... unexpected, to say the least; he'd thought he would be stuck here forever.

"Well," he finally says, "it's bound to be more interesting than saving my brother every time he does something stupid."

"Oh, quite. And you'd do well to get out of here before he really gets going." The woman smiles, looking extremely pleased with herself, and pulls forth a thin envelope. "I'd hoped you would be interested. You'll find your ticket to London and instructions to find us in there. Pack light; we can have anything else you need shipped to us."

"Thank you." The kettle boils, and David turns to set up the tea. "I'm sorry, where are my manners, would you like--"

But when he turns back around, the woman's gone.

(Artifact 101: the Trung sisters.)