"Dream Oracle?" Summer asked, and Mrs. Mortimer nodded.
"Of course. You've never heard of me?" She chuckled, pretending to be offended that she was unknown. "Many different cultures have some kind of legend about me, mind you."
Summer frowned, wondering just what she'd gotten herself into. Giles, and the old lady herself, were starting to appear very strange. They both had a tendency to run their mouths, going wherever their derailed trains of thought took them, but she wasn't sure if that meant danger. She hadn't sensed any malice from either person, so she hadn't left quite yet. But she was getting close.
"Legends? What exactly does a…dream oracle do?"
"I already told you, I fulfill dreams. It's my job to make sure people get their wishes and their heart's desires granted." She pulled out the notebook once more, probably preparing it for whatever Summer had to say next.
"So…" Summer thought about the whole concept, rubbing at her chin. "You're like, Santa Claus?" Mrs. Mortimer scoffed, waving the notion away with her hand.
"That old coot? Oh, heavens no. He's years past his prime. He retired centuries ago, mostly by my kind suggestion. It's not easy traveling the whole world in one night, you know."
"Santa's…real?" Summer questioned, but Mrs. Mortimer continued talking.
"Now, dear. If you want my help in finding a gift for your friends, I suggest you start talking so I can get writing."
The blonde's mouth hung open, head spinning from the rapid pace at which this woman worked. Distractedly going off on the most interesting tangent ever, which Summer was half tempted to ask her to finish, all the way to reigning it back in with a quick word. Besides, she didn't think the Dream Oracle would tell her for certain if St. Nick was real anyway. The old lady was much too aloof.
"Right…" Summer said, trying to settle herself into the chair once more.
"Now, let's hear a little about this Captain friend of yours."
"He's a complete and utter ass." She said bluntly, crossing her arms. Mrs. Mortimer wrote it down, for whatever reason, looking back so she would continue. "He's sadistic, cruel, arrogant, sometimes I can't stand him! He's always teasing me, and he has this infernal habit of smirking at everything you do, he's just annoying sometimes…"
"Mhmm…" The woman hummed, pen flying across the page.
"He really cares about his crew though. We're like family. And he's really smart, like genius smart. He's a doctor and heals the crew when we're injured and stuff. Umm…he hates bread?" She added with a shrug.
"Hmm…I see. Yes, I think that will do." She snapped the notebook shut with one hand, setting the pen down on the table. Picking the pipe back up she leaned back in her chair and took a long drag.
"So, can you help me?" Summer clenched her fists on her knees, hoping that somehow this adventure would be worth it. Mrs. Mortimer blew out the smoke, which was quickly sucked into the flames of the fireplace.
"Certainly, my dear." She reached over to the table again and picked up a box, about the size of her notebook and thin. Summer swore she'd been watching the table, and it definitely hadn't been there before.
"Where are you getting all of that? It's like they just appear there." Summer insisted, but Mrs. Mortimer only chuckled.
"Take a look, and don't get all out of sorts with it. Girls your age shouldn't be so easily surprised. This would be the perfect gift for your Penguin friend." She handed Summer the box, which was surprisingly light. Summer's gaze was directed to a quick glint of the firelight on the old woman's fingers. One on each finger, Summer saw five golden rings. They were delicately carved and looked extremely old and worn. Letters were engraved in the sides, but they weren't in any language that she recognized.
'Just how old is she?' With one more glance at the old woman, she lifted the top.
"HUH?" She guffawed at the present, dropping the lid on the ground in shock. Her mouth and eyes flew open. Mrs. Mortimer sighed, shaking her head.
"I knew this would happen." Summer tried to recover herself, holding up the panties, which had been put inside delicately on display on a red silk pillow, in the air. They were white with small sledding penguins all over them. The edges were trimmed in red lace, topped off with a tiny bow along the hem.
"Mmm." Giles sipped at his tea in appreciation, examining the undergarments. "They're quite modest, for being so fancily made. Just right for a young lady such as yourself."
"I agree." Mrs. Mortimer replied, picking up her own cup.
"Why in the hell would I give this to him?" She sputtered, stuffing the gift back in the box. "Shouldn't this be a gift for me?" Shaking her head, she set the cup down on the table.
"Oh, no my dear, that just wouldn't do. My job is to fulfill dreams, not idle wants. No, this gift is especially important for Mr. Penguin. You want him to fulfill his dream, don't you?"
Inside she was panicking beyond belief, trying to piece together just what would happen if she were to give Penguin of all people a pair of what seemed to be her underwear. He'd probably think they were dating. Or worse.
But she wanted them to be happy, and frankly, anything to get them to their dreams was something she supported. She just didn't know it involved this…Realizing that she was a bit of a stick in the mud, she sighed.
"Are you sure it's what he wants?" She asked, a silent plead that the Dream Oracle was only joking. With a slow nod, Mrs. Mortimer grabbed a cookie from the tray.
"Quite so."
Summer sighed, deciding that she needed a drink. Picking up the cup of tea for the first time, she sniffed it first, trying to decide what it would taste like. Taking a tentative sip, her face perked up when she found that she liked it. "I guess I can give it to him…" She conceded. Mrs. Mortimer clapped her hands together.
"Excellent! Now that we've got Penguin covered, we'll focus on your lover."
Summer about spit out her tea, but was just short of doing so by covering her mouth with her hand. She coughed, sputtering with shock. "E-excuse me?" She grabbed a convenient napkin from the table, wiping at the tea all over her.
"Well, you still need a gift for your Captain, correct?"
"That's not what I meant!" She set the cup down. "Who said anything about a lover?"
"Why, you did, dear." Mrs. Mortimer looked rather confused. She just couldn't understand what all the ruckus was about. Summer rolled her eyes.
"I didn't say anything-" The older woman chuckled, cutting off the rest of her sentence.
"Oh, I'm no fool, my girl. The way you talk about him, regardless of if it was negative, it makes it quite obvious." She sipped at her tea. Summer looked to Giles, who only nodded in agreement. Sighing she slumped down in the chair.
"Can we just get on with the magic gift giving stuff? Please? For the sake of my dignity?"
The shook her head with a small smile, amused by her tragic tone. "Oh, settle yourself. Besides, I won't be giving you a gift for Mr. Trafalgar."
"You're not?" Summer didn't understand. "But I thought you "fulfilled dreams" or whatever?" She made quotes in the air, and Mrs. Mortimer looked rather offended.
"Why, my dear Summer, I can't be expected to do everything. Then I would be achieving everyone's dreams for them! No, I only help. And Mr. Trafalgar's dream is something with which help cannot be provided. All you can do for him is give him a thoughtful gift from the heart." He explanations tended on the very cryptic, and it was beginning to get on Summer's nerves.
"Well, what is his dream?" She gave a guarded smile, and Summer knew immediately that that answer wouldn't be coming from her.
"That isn't something for me to answer. I'm afraid you'll have to ask him yourself."
"Well, could you at least tell me where I could get something he'd like? I've checked all the stores!" Mrs. Mortimer picked up a piece of paper from the table, handing it to the blonde.
"All of them, you say?" She leaned over and tapped a circled spot on the map. "There's a small clothing shop on the next street over. The owners are good people, and they'll help you find what you're looking for."
It seemed that this meeting had come to an end, but there was a burning question that Summer just had to ask, even though she knew it was a little rude to ask. "Mrs. Mortimer, how old are you?"
Giles looked appalled, mouth open and eyebrows raised, at the question that sprang from her lips. But Mrs. Mortimer didn't seem so surprised.
"Ohohohoho, don't you know never to ask a lady her age? It's improper!" She laughed aloud, slapping her knee in amusement. "Oh, but if you really want an answer, I'm not a day over 28!"
Summer grinned, eyeing the wrinkled skin and aging face, knowing full well that she was lying, but decided to let it go. She didn't think she'd ever understand this lady, but she was rather fond of her. Mrs. Mortimer was an odd woman, but a likable one.
"Thank you for all your help." Picking up the small box and the map, she stood. Giles immediately rose to his feet as well, leading her out into the hallway.
"Don't forget your coat!" He said, taking it from the coatrack and holding it open for her to slip on. "It's rather cold outside."
"Thank you, Giles." She smiled and put the sleeves on. Giles escorted her back to the door and opened it for her. She gave an appreciative nod before heading down the steps and down to the street. Summer turned, waving to the man as he shut the door.
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