Pilot

"I saw her last month at Danvers." He said. Elena nodded and smiled.

  "That makes sense. It quickly became her favorite haunts once she was old enough to get in the door." Long before Elena was born a man named Michael Danvers established a bar of sorts at the Docking Facility where people could come and talk council politics, possibly even snagging the ear of a councilmember or two for a few minutes. Michael Danvers had long since turned to dust, his grave lost and forgotten, but the bar he established still played an essential part in the unofficial daily business of the Guild. Absently Elena wondered if any of her accomplishments would be remembered in such a way.

  "Have you ever been there?"

  "Once," Elena answered. "It wasn't really to my taste." On her right she heard her grandfather's snort of laughter and knew he was monitoring her conversation with Peter. She frowned in his general direction, but couldn't fault his derision for her massive understatement. Her first trip to Danvers had ended in what could politely be termed a brawl. As Therese later pointed out, the first ever brawl Danvers had ever seen, earning Elena yet another record-breaking feat. Elena disliked fighting and regretted the embarrassment it caused her family, but could not find remorse in her for breaking Troy Anderson's nose.

  "I see," Peter said. Idly she wondered if he did or if he would find a way to ferret the old story into the light. To her relief, he let the topic of politics drop. "Alexandro tells me you have built quite an impressive enterprise in the years you have been gone."

  "Calabrese Imports," her grandfather said, giving up all pretense of ignoring the conversation. "It is magnificent."

  "Thank you," Elena said. "I don't know that I would refer to it as an impressive enterprise but I am quite proud of it." Elena's empty plate was whisked away and her coffee cup refilled. She took a deep sip of the fresh coffee, unsure what else to say about her business. She knew Peter would just as easily see the links for his business as her grandfather had and the thought made her uncomfortable. Thinking about working with her grandfather was one thing. She knew and trusted him. He may be Council, but she tried very hard not to delve too deeply into those details of his life.

  Peter was a different matter. The stories involving him were always dark and usually frightening. 'Would I find those same stories about grandfather if I looked?' she wondered silently. 'Perhaps,' she was forced to admit. 'Which may be why I don't look too hard at the politics.'

  "From what stories I have heard you are being quite modest," he said. Elena raised an eyebrow.

  "Stories from who?" She asked. "Grandfather first saw my place when he came to pick me up and he hasn't had time to relate what he saw as we went straight into the council chambers." Elena narrowed her eyes and cut them towards her grandfather. He once again appeared to be deep in conversation with John Havers. John had a slightly bemused look on his face. Elena looked back at Peter and saw the tips of his ears had reddened.

  "Yes, well I believe my brother Nicolas was passing through your fair city a while ago and stopped to take a look. His description was quite favorable. Perhaps there will be time for me to have a look inside while we are taking care of this situation."

  "Perhaps," Elena said allowing the subject to drop. After all nothing more needed to be said. Nick was his brother's right hand man and as her home was far removed from the normal course of Guild business, Peter would have had to send Nick specifically to see what she was up to. While a part of her understood the suspicion, the fact she was spied upon rankled. At the other end of the table Siobhan stood and walked over to them.

  "Elena," she began. "Riko and I are retiring to the library. Would you care to join us or would you prefer to see if Peter has another foot he would like to try swallowing?" Elena smiled and realized the question was more rhetorical than anything else. Her presence was requested and required. She stood up.

  "I would be delighted, thank you. Mr. Baranov should finish his scone before trying another foot." Elena turned towards the table. "If you gentlemen would excuse me, Mr. Baranov. Grandfather." Elena stepped away from the table, following Siobhan out of the dining area and into the corridor.