Fanfic time: Misfits part 41
Continued from yesterday:
Danoz found his partner in the small kitchen, eating a doughnut-shaped pastry. “Hey, Roxy…[1]"
"You should try these. They’re surprisingly good… Coffee’s the *bomb*."
"Yeahyeahyeah,” said Danoz. “I just wanted to ask you something."
"Yeah?"
"Notice anything… *weird* about this house?"
Roxy took a swig as she stared through her partner. The way she stared through people had unnerved weaker men into confessing. "You mean like how we’re looking for a sixteen-year-old girl and there’s not a single photo around of her over the age of five?"
Danoz nodded.
"And how Mrs Adrien had to call her security company to open her husband’s safe to obtain a recent photo… and he’s been away for almost half a year?"
"Definitely,” said Danoz. He tried one of the pastry rings. It was like going to heaven without the dying.
“And how the help is studiously nebulous when it comes to matters in the home?"
"Yes and *God*, yes,” said Danoz.
“And how her room was *completely* cleaned out apart from the _Hamtaro_ bedclothes[2]?"
"Genius,” said Danoz. Which was code for: You spotted something I missed. The coffee was as divine as the not-exactly-doughnut. He began wishing that this particular posting would last forever.
“Then yeah, I’d have to say that something is pretty fucking screwed up around here.” She took a savage bite of her pastry. “And until Jackie O in there decides to confess to something, I’m'a have to enjoy my little posting, right here."
"Until Monday, when we have to check out her school."
Roxy rolled her eyes. "It can wait until after lunch."
Danoz grinned. "Sure it can."
+
Next was the Grunchlick’s place, affectionately nicknamed "Munchkin land” by just about everybody who went there, for reasons that became increasingly obvious as one attempted to navigate a yard full of plastic playthings with armloads of groceries.
A toddler, clad only in his pampers and standing in the window, was telling them off for tresspassing in no uncertain terms… if one understood ‘scribble’.
The cries of outrage from the baby bought two older toddlers, also boys, who recognised Tallwater instantly.
“Ahnee Sa! Ahnee Sa!"
Then came twin girls. Mean decibel level - about a hundred and fifty. "AUNTY SARA’S HERE, MOM!"
"And where is Mom?” said Tallwater.
“She go poopies,” said one of the boys.
“Onna toilet,” added his twin.
Treefrog went bright red, but Tallwater just took this in stride and smiled with a *slight* roll of her eyes.
“Do either of *you* guys want to go on the toilet?” she cooed.
“No,” they said.
“Aw. Too bad."
There was a flush, and running feet, and an anxious, "Hang on, hang on, hang on…” and then the door was open.
Mrs Grunchlick had the frayed look one would expect for a mother of five pre-schoolers.
“I come bearing pampers,” said Tallwater.
“*YES*!” She seized the box and hollered into the house, “DA-AA-AVE! You can stop looking! Sara’s here!"
Tallwater ducked back to the car, hopping and skipping over play debris, to get more stuff from the car.
An equally harassed man seized the training pants from Treefrog. "Thank you and *bless*,” he turned back into the house. “Okay, kiddies. Time to get your bot-bots[3] clean!"
Which left the girls, and Logan with an armful of heavyish cardboard box.
"Are you Aunty Sara’s Daddy?” they said in unison.
Twins. Brrrr…
[1] Yes, Roxy from _Dead Like Me_ is making a cameo. Sniggersnort.
[2] Everybody has a secret crave. Sara’s is _Hamtaro_ and, in fact, just about anything animated.
[3] An ancient synonym for 'bottom’ that I haven’t personally used since I was in first grade. Heh.
~
Principal Edward Kelly rubbed the sore patch on the back of his head as he watched the local news. His own recall of the events currently playing on the television was fuzzy, owing to a mild concussion, but thanks to nosey students, pxt, and a complete lack of morals concerning personal privacy, almost the entire event was recorded.
All apart from the trigger event.
He remembered… patrolling the corridors, checking for absentees and the occasional on-campus tryst… and there was a sound. A distant bang. And running feet.
Rare indeed was the mid-class escapee, so, suspecting trouble, he’d headed towards the sounds.
Only to collide headfirst with that Essel fellow.
No. Kelly rubbed his head. Essel was evidently female. Sara. Louise. Adrein. Oh yes. He remembered now.
He might have remembered that he called her 'Essel’ several times during their interview, that morning, but his mind was on other matters.
Assault. At least two counts. Skipping class. Creating a public nuisance… clogging the hallways… There were a lot of things he could get her for. Get her away from those - things… living in Xavier’s. Explain that she was in danger.
Kelly reached out and grasped the smooth plastic of his 8-ball. “Should I proceed with my current plan?” He turned it over.
_Reply hazy. Ask again later._
He shook it. “Should I proceed with my current plan?"
_Don’t count on it._
What the hell? He shook it again. "Stupid piece of plastic *crap*!"
_Yes._
He sighed and put it back down. All he’d ever wanted was a straight answer…
+
Munchkin land was chaos. Dave and Julie spent most of their time talking in three conversation lines at once. The kids insisted on "helping” put the groceries away, which largely consisted of either playing with them or attempting to help themselves. Logan snagged the candies before they could try and placed them well out of reach.
Then there was the fact that he’d been adopted.
Tallwater’s namesake had latched on to his leg and refused to let go. One of the boys kept tugging on his clothing and asking for a 'piddy ack’. The youngest kept climbing into any box that was left lying around and squealing at the top of his lungs.
Tallwater handled everything like a pro. Efficient motions spoke of years of practice avoiding the rugrats, and she even managed to get them to actually *help*.
And then, at max volume, “Do the song, Aunty Sara! Do the song! Do the song!"
"The song?” asked Treefrog. He’d decided to give one of the twin boys a 'piddy ack’ and discovered that when you haul one twin, the other twin comes free. Both boys were now struggling to gain a choke-hold and giggling a lot.
“Something that is bound to haunt me for the rest of my days,” Tallwater found a clear area and the girls joined her on either side. “Ready ladies?"
The kids took up what they thought to be balletic poses.
Tallwater stood on point. "We represent the lullabye league,” she squeaked as she danced, “The lullabye league, the lullabye league… and the name of the lullabye leeeeeague–” she coughed, which produced a chorus of laughter, “–we wish to welcome you to Munchkin laaaannnd…” She put her fingers in her ears as the kids went *nuts*, running around and singing 'Lalala’ without any hint of rhythm or melody.
“Hon,” said Treefrog. “You into some *scary* stuff."
"Try babysitting them, darling."
The girls lit up. "Are you his *girlfriend*? Is he your *boyfriend*? Are you *ma*rried?"
"Yes, yes, and no,” said Tallwater. “Married takes a little more time."
They ran to Treefrog. "Are you gonna get a baby?"
"Not on *my* watch,” rumbled Logan.
“Not yet,” said Treefrog.
“Why?"
"Uh…” he looked desperately at Tallwater. “Babies take time, too."
"Why?"
Dave and Julie had folded their arms and had matching smug, we’re-not-taking-this-for-a-million-dollars smiles on.
"Uh… It’s a very special thing, yo. It’s gotta be done… right."
The twin girls looked at each other, then turned back to Treefrog. "How?” they asked.
+
_…ffffffffuuuuuuuuuuuck…_ thought Todd. He had to think fast, he had to talk fast, and give all the answers yet be completely G-rated. “Um…” he said. He looked pleadingly at Sara.
Sara was being unhelpful, leaning idly on something and propping her chin up with her hand. Pure spectator mode. The interested smile was not helping.
“Uh…” Logan? Fuck no. “It’s gotta be done right,” he repeated, stalling. “Well, first you have to really love each other. I mean, so much you wanna marry each other, y'know?” Todd told the twins. _Unless it ain’t a planned pregnancy, but I sure as heck ain’t bringin’ that up._ “Then… then you wait for a very special night. Everything’s perfect, the sky’s full of stars, the crickets are chirping, the nightingales are singing, yadda yadda."
"And…?"
Todd thought for several moments on how best to simplify it for a child’s mind. "You declare how much you love each other at the top of your lungs. For the whole world to hear, if you can."
Sara patted her hands together in applause. "Well done,” she said.
“Are you gonna do that, Aunty Sara?” they chorused as they charged over to her.
“Not yet, my dears."
"Why?"
"It’s… a little early in the season,” she fibbed. That one had flummoxed her as a child. “Besides, I think Mr Logan would object."
"Darn straight,” he growled.
“Why?"
"Ohmylookatthetime,” Sara babbled. “We have to run, kidlets. Huggles?"
She was mobbed, giving both he and Logan a chance to get out of the house. Sara extracted herself at length and trotted to catch up, wiping drool patches from her clothes. She flopped into her seat with a sigh. "Heaven protect me from having that many at once,” she smiled and waved bye-bye as they pulled away.
“Amen,” said Todd and Logan together.
~
“And just where are *you* going, young lady?"
_*Now* they fucking notice…_ "Out.” That answer might have served an older brother, but not her. Never her.
“Out *where*?"
_Not that you *care*…_ Janine sighed. "I have to go talk to the school counthellor."
"What? Why wasn’t I told about this?"
_You were busy. You’re always busy. And you’re going to make yourself even busier in about four months and *I’m* going to be stuck babysitting._ "I *did* tell you,” she lied. “You thaid 'that’s nice’."
"Did I? EDWARD CAMRON WILTSHIRE, YOU PUT THAT DOWN *NOW*!"
Janine ducked outside while she was distracted. Dad and her two older brothers were working on Sean’s car again… this time, an attempt to get the motor working, instead of tinkering with the cosmetics. A brief jog, and she was around the corner and out of sight.
Out of sight, out of mind.
With Cecilia in college, things had been slightly easier on the budget. Heck, the family was celebrating Sean’s attempts to find a place to live on his own… Would it be that hard to hand Justin the crown of Oldest Kid in the House?
She stared at the apartment building going up in the distance. Sean would be able to get a high-ticket flat there. She’d be better off in Povo Towers[1] and finding some job that could pay the measly rent and purchase some food. Especially if she bought in bulk.
_Thank you, Sara, for running off and showing me it *can* be done. Geez. I never thought I’d be greatful for her being more than ammo…_
Another corner, another crossing, and the school was in sight. It looked weird with only a handful of cars in the lot and a scant number of souls in the distance. It was spooky, roaming these empty halls.
She passed up the temptation of Sara’s locker. Besides, she might have something worse than a monster in there. Like live tarantulas.
Janine found Counsellor Kian waiting for her outside his office. At last. Someone who paid *attention*.
+
The next place was Little Old Lady chic. The entire yard was neater than a pin and bore many, *many* quasi-tasteless whirligigs on the lawn.
Tallwater had informed them both that Mrs Farnsworth cooked preserves, amongst other things, that were truly legend.
The old broad who came out was a natural-born bustler. One of those whip-thin old sticks who did everything they possibly could in every waking moment. Half her shopping was ingredients. The other half was more mundane.
"Ah, Sara,” she cooed. “I was a little worried after that ghastly business on the news, last night."
"It was on the news?” Tallwater, burdened with groceries, vented a small noise of anguish.
“It’s not that bad, dear. They censored most of it."
"Whelp…” she sighed. “At least I’m no longer invisible."
"They’ll find another scandal. You know they won’t remember for long."
"They don’t remember *accurately* for long,” corrected Tallwater. “Is there a clear space for this?"
"Oh, yes, I’ve just finished tidying it for you… Oooh, is that your father Sam?"
"No, he’s my tutor, Logan."
Was he gonna get this question *forever*? And where the hell *was* Sam Adrien, anyway?
+
Sam appologised quickly in the local traders’ dialect. _Mental note. Never pitch a tent on a Steppe Troll._
”[Little human,]“ the creature rumbled, brushing the tent off like it was a minor annoyance. ”[What you do so far from your lands?]“
”[I come in peace,]“ he began. ”[I was told your kind was seeking to establish rights with the humans in this area. I was… I was sent to parley.]“
The Troll rumbled and cracked, and several more hillocks came to life.
”[You sent to talk us off our land?]“
”[No! No. I was sent to talk a way *through*… with no fighting.]“ He smiled nervously. ”[The humans want to travel through your lands… to make quicker trade. What would you like from the humans in trade?]“
One directly behind him murmured, ”[We like humans to stay away.]“
Okay. This was one he was going to have to *work* on…
+
Pietro had been staring at the mall crowd for almost fifteen minutes. For someone who could run all the way to Columbia in less time, this was a subjective eternity.
He was analysing gender issues.
Girls were girls and boys were boys, right? Except some… like Adrien… were girls that looked like boys but wanted to be recognized as girls. And some were boys who wanted to be girls and vice versa… and some were just gay.
Could he tell, just by looking, that someone was gay?
He used to think he could.
He used to think he could instantly attract anything female, too.
And now Toad was running around with Adrien.
And Adrien needed to know that he was still the best of the best ever. He was still faster, brighter, smarter… better.
But how to get revenge on someone at the bottom of the food chain?
[1] Povo is an Aussie-ism for poor. Poverty-stricken.
~