For the first time in her life, Martin actually thinks she looks good. She peers into the mirror that’s still hanging in the office for some reason (it’s given her the creeps ever since she’s worked here, much like the portrait of Joan Magnus hanging in the entrance hall). The woman looking back at her is still recognizably Martin Blackwood, but she’s at once more dapper and more professional than Martin’s ever looked before. Honestly, it’s kind of astonishing how different she looks in the suit picked out for her and tailored to fit her properly.
Even so, she can’t help but feel like there’s something subtly wrong. Everything’s too muted in color, and the slate-grey color of the blazer makes her look washed out, somehow, as though she’s been obscured by fog. Martin’s always favored earth tones and brighter colors: shapeless jumpers in warm browns and reds, the occasional inappropriately floral shirt that always made Jon wrinkle her nose, and God, Martin can’t think about Jon right now. She definitely can’t wonder if Jon would think she looks good like this, or more put-together at least.
Martin doesn’t hear Petra coming up behind her, but she sees her, quite suddenly, in the mirror almost as soon as she’s laying one big hand on Martin’s shoulder. Martin starts.
“Please, don’t do that,” she gasps, and Petra grins at her.
“I’m glad we’ve come to an understanding about your clothes,” she says, giving Martin a looking over that might be lascivious or might not, but definitely makes Martin feel kind of dirty. “This is much better. The hair especially.”
Martin’s been cutting her own hair since she dropped out of school. It’s usually slightly too long and slightly too unruly, always flopping in her eyes. But Petra, citing Martin’s new position, sent Martin to her own barber, and now the curls are tamed, clipped short on the sides, artfully disheveled on top. It’s a good look, but somehow, Martin thinks it makes the sadness in her eyes too visible and too present. She’s not looking forward to what Elise might say if she visits her again. Probably something complimentary but cruel.
“Thanks,” Martin says, because she’s not sure what to say. “I like this. And I’m looking forward to, uh, working with you.”
It’s a stupid thing to say, she realizes. She’s already been working with Petra for three months. Three months of loneliness, saving the world, and forgetting that she needs to start the day by making her own tea, and not the second cup for Jon, that she goes to the office with ‘Petra Lukas’ on the nameplate (the one reading ‘Elise Bouchard’ having been hastily removed in the wake of Elise’s arrest), and not Johanna Sims’ dingy office in the Archives. Martin should feel like she’s doing something heroic, but mostly it just hurts.
“You’ve been doing a very good job,” Petra says. “And I’m sure you’ll do even better in the future. You’re looking like a proper servant of Forsaken already!”
Martin’s only glad that Petra’s not aligned with the Eye, because she can’t see how much Martin’s thinking about her scheduled visit to the hospital after work, to go watch Jon in her strange state of living death, and talk to her about everything and nothing. And she can’t see how much Martin’s thinking of stopping by her flat first to shrug out of this strange costume worn by the Martin Blackwood who’s assistant to the head of the Magnus Institute, and back into one of her familiar jumpers, or ratty trainers, or faded jeans. It’s not like Jon’s going to see her, but she still wants to be recognizable. Even if it’s as the Martin who’s always been kind of a mess, and even if she kind of wishes she could get Jon’s opinion on the new and improved Martin in the mirror.
“Thanks,” Martin says. It feels like she’s thanking Petra a lot more these days, which kind of leaves a sour taste in her mouth. She doesn’t want to feel indebted.
Petra rubs her shoulder, a little kindly, a little possessively, as though she can tell that Martin’s smile isn’t really reaching her eyes.
“This is all for the best, you know,” she says at last. “And loneliness is a good look on you too. Much like everything else.”
When Petra kisses her then, hard as if she wants to own Martin and claim her forever, Martin isn’t even surprised.