The idea of the ‘professional shopper’ was one that always profoundly confused Gently. After all, the people who said were rarely, in fact, actually paid to do any kind of shopping. Instead, they were just people like her, save for the fact that they were ridiculously proud of their ability to shop. What did that mean? They thought themselves extra good at finding good things for good deals? Or did they not care how much they spent, just that they were buying the most trendy, most adventurous and sought after items? Usually clothing, of course, following all the trends and even buying ahead of the curve. Whatever that could possibly mean.

Shopping was more of an obligation than a skill for Gently.

She bought what she needed, when she needed it, and maybe got some clothes that were cute on a whim sometimes. Other than that, she didn’t exactly see the need to train whatever organs or muscles that controlled shopping. It wasn’t a sport, no matter how the crazed people on big sale days made it seem. If left to herself, she would just pay regular price for everything, if only to avoid the insanity of bargain shoppers and their dire, life or death need of sale items that they probably wouldn’t have even considered buying if they hadn’t been on sale in the first place. What was the point of that, on top of everything else? Why buy something one doesn’t want or need, just because it was cheap? That was a waste of money, anyway.

Maybe she was over thinking it. If it made other people happy she certainly couldn’t begrudge them that. In that sense, it was nice to see, so long as they were living their lives the way they wanted to, she supposed. She just wasn’t going to buy into it.

She giggled at her unintentional pun, which brought her from her thoughts.

Sitting in her living room, on the floor, surrounded by bits and pieces of fabric and a few different articles of clothing she had purchased at second hand stores, Gently was only thinking about her experience shopping because she had, for the first time in a long time, spent the entire day in stores, browsing with purpose. She had found a few good deals, and few not so good deals, on a bunch of different things that she hoped would enable her to make a costume.

Sewing was another thing she wasn’t particularly well versed in. Generally, if it involved clothes or make up she only had the bare minimum of experience in it. She had taken quite a few classes in university, however, in the theatre department and many of them were designed to spread across the spectrum of jobs in the theatre. Not just acting and directing, but lighting and stage design, sound and stage managing, building sets and moving them. Make up and costumes. She hadn’t done excessively well, but she was a good student and she tried her hardest, which had endeared her enough to the professors to get their help whenever she needed it during a project or just because she was curious. Even now, she could call them to ask them questions, or shoot them emails. Which she had already done, the phone sitting next to her and her lap top on the table nearby, sharing the space with a lukewarm cup of coffee and a half eaten sandwich.

If there was one thing Gently was good at, it was being tenacious. Nothing got in her way when she was trying to accomplish something, and she didn’t let anything seem impossible. There was always more than one way to get something done, even if it had to be the harder way, the longer way, the more convoluted way. The end was what mattered, and the journey to get there was the challenge that made it worth it.

She was sitting with a white shirt in her lap, trying to piece together a white bodice, a one piece like a swimsuit, which she was hoping to attach a skirt to. She remembered her training session with Skye, or rather Sassolite, one of the first ones they had together. It had been an interesting endeavor, and Sass had turned to dressing up to keep Painite focused, so she considered the Captain an enemy. The Senshi of Idiots, if Gently recalled correctly. It made her chuckle now, but she had taken a lot from that one session, and was returning to an idea from it now.

It was all part of the plan.

For the last few days she had been preparing. First, she had done preliminary work, getting a feel for her new target’s schedule, learning when he left his work and when he returned, what he did at closing and opening. She wasn’t going to attack him during the work day, and had decided the best time was at night. He was often there for hours after closing, doing whatever business a librarian had to do after the doors were locked. It seemed he was often there alone, taking care of things on his own. The other employees left just after closing, save one woman who would wait an hour or so longer, sometimes less but never more, before she left as well.

The man walked, using a cane, though it didn’t seem to be a short distance from the library to his home. She had followed him once, the night before, from up on the rooftops, to get a feel for his routine and the path he took home. If he had a car she didn’t know, and if he would surprise her by using it some time was a risk she would just have to take.

Today was his day off, so she was seizing the moment to take care of what other things needed to be set up. She didn’t bother following him when he wasn’t at work: she didn’t care about those details simply because they would not factor into her plan. She had to focus on the key things, the most important facts, to keep her plan on track and not let herself get distracted by frivolous things. She was aware that her mind was constantly active, constantly looking for new and fun things to try, and if she gave herself the chance to think too much she would change the plan completely, and never get anywhere.

And anyway, this one was plenty fun already.

Once the costume was sorted, or when she got tired of poking her fingers with needles and sewing the wrong things together and having to start over, she would switch her attention to her weapon. When she powered up, she was aided in battle by a hobby horse. A plush horse head on a sturdy wooden stick. Good for jabbing and smacking, she supposed, but not particularly deadly. Mr. Saddles, as the weapon was called, was also useful in her more typical traps, when she needed a piece of bait. But this plan did not call for her usual methods: she didn’t need a gizmo to catch her prey. Instead, she wanted to tinker with the attachment ideas for Mr. Saddles’ stick.

It had been a good idea, she thought, to craft metal additions to the weapon, arms and other assorted, useful things to make it more of a threat in battle. She had tried to attach a metal bat to the end of the stick, and it might have worked if she hadn’t accidentally attacked a senshi with the wrong end of it when she got the drop on him, hitting him with the horse head instead of her intended bat. That had resulted in a butt kicking and a very sore pride for a little while, but from that she became more determined than ever to get her idea to a place where it was useful, practical and dangerous.

She was opting for something pointy this time, and had designs for a pike, or lance, like addition for the end of the stick. A pointed head that would give her a longer range, and wouldn’t out balance the horse head too much to make it unwieldy. But she had yet to out that together, as the costume was taking longer than she had thought it would.

It was going to be a long night, perhaps a completely sleepless one, but that was just a hit she had to take. She had to keep on schedule, even though the next part of her plan was to wait. That wasn’t a good enough excuse to slack off, even if it was a viable cushion if she wanted it.

No, Gently had her business face on, and she was not going to let herself fail in any way, big or small, this time. And to do that, she had to stay serious, focused, and think big. Push herself to the limits, mentally and physically, so she could expand beyond them exponentially. There was nothing she wanted more than to be good at this, at her dedicated life and her duties, as well as her fun.

This was her profession.