Pleasantries - Chapter 2, Part 3
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Chapter 1
Part 2
Part 3
Chapter 2
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
* * *
If you haven't already please read: The Future Of Pleasantries
Continued from Part 2
Notes: Advisories etc are in Part 1. Advisories specific to this part, Language.Angst, Photoshop (for visual effect)
Pleasantries - Chapter 2 - Much Ado About No Thing - Part 3
9:30 AM Friday, April 11
Something cold brushed against her wrist and she snapped her eyes open. Almost immediately she realized her mistake as the world swam fuzzily into view; a blinding light sending her already aching brain pounding painfully against her skull.
Her stomach gave a lurch. She tried to sit up. Her limbs were unresponsive. She could feel them. They did not seem to be restrained. They simply refused to obey her commands to move.
Fighting down panic she tried to focus her hazy thoughts to take stock of the situation.
“Its heart rate is rising,” a voice said to her left drawing her attention, “What did you do?”
She tried to call out to the indistinct dark haired figure; to ask what was going on but no sound came from her lips.
“I haven’t done anything yet!” a second voice snapped to her other side.
With great effort she managed to turn her head slightly to focus on the speaker. Involuntarily she winced as a fresh spear of pain tore through her head. There was a bright light this way as well.
“This is a delicate procedure that takes much time to prepare,” the second voice continued, “If I had help instead of an imbecile with a clipboard, perhaps I could have done something by now. I do not, so you may take your accusations and shove them in the body cavity of your choosing.”
Movement to her other side brought her attention back and she slowly turned her head, the motion causing the dim edges of her vision to darken further.
“Oh,” the first voice said as the dark haired form loomed over her, “it is awake.”
“You’d better give it more sedative,” the first voice continued as shadows began to descend on her once again, “We don’t want this one struggling like the last did. It makes things so much more difficult.”
“Your insistence on standing around with that damned clipboard and refusing to help makes things so much more difficult!” the second voice snapped, “Put the fucking thing down and give me a hand. Even a man of my skills can do with assistance.”
“Fine,” the first voice snarled, “But if this one is botched as well, I am not taking the blame. You can explain it …”
The rest of their words were lost as she was swallowed once more by darkness.
* * *
9:45 AM Friday, April 11
“So ‘A’ would equal ‘Ab’ plus ‘Aw’ and as we found in the last step ‘Ab’ equals π ‘r’ squared …”
“Stop!” Lilith held up her hand in frustration, “Winston, I can’t figure out if we are doing English, Math or baking here!”
“Usually attempting to find the area of a cone would fall under Math,” Winston sighed folding his arms.
“Wonderful, now if you could just leave out the pies and all the letters maybe I could figure this out.”
“It is simple geometry, Lilith. You know how to do this. Focus.”
“I’m trying, Winston,” she grumbled staring down at her paper miserably, “So are you. I know. I appreciate the effort, but I am never going to figure this out.”
“I expect mostly I am simply trying your patience at this point,” Winston quipped with a small smile pulling a chair around the end of the table, “Put down the pen and talk to me.”
Lilith tossed her pen on the table and closed her notebook before slumping back in her chair, a deep scowl creasing her brow. She’d wanted to talk to him and this was her chance. Now that the time came though …
“You have been miserable all morning,” Winston prompted leaning forward resting his arms on his thighs, “What is going on?”
“I’m not even sure,” she admitted.
“What happened?”
“Ripp snapped at me,” she pouted.
“Ripp snapped at you?” Winston couldn’t help the slight laugh that accompanied his words. She sounded like a little girl complaining that someone stole her cookie.
“It’s not funny,” Lilith shot him a glare, “Ripp doesn’t get angry. Ever.”
That got Winston’s attention, “Everyone feels angry at some point, Lilith.”
“Not Ripp. He does sad and worried, but never angry.”
“Maybe you should start at the beginning,” Winston suggested, his professional curiosity piqued.
“Okay, so we were all supposed to meet up at Damon’s house last night to go to a movie, only Ripp sent Damon a text saying he couldn’t make it,” Lilith explained.
“This was cause for concern?” Winston queried when she paused.
“Yeah!” she emphasized the word with an emphatic wave of her hand, “I’ve told you about his Dad. Over-reacts to everything; acts like their house is a boot camp?”
Winston nodded, “I remember. He sounds like a very strict parent.”
“Strict is not even the word. Insane is the word. Completely and totally off his fricken’ nut, psycho!”
Winston studied her in silence for a moment, “Psycho?”
Lilith leaned back in her chair folding her arms, “He burned the stereo when his wife left because she to listened to music a lot.”
“That is perhaps a little extreme,” Winston frowned.
“You think?” Lilith rolled her eyes, her voice dripping sarcasm. “Ripp couldn’t make it last night. He told me this morning it was because his Dad found his MP3 player. When I suggested we get him a new one this afternoon he got really angry and defensive, told me to just leave it alone.”
“And you are worried,” Winston added after a moment.
“I am,” she was quiet for a moment, staring down at her lap before she spoke again, “I have never seen him angry before.”
Winston nodded. This was not sitting comfortably with him at all. He knew from past conversations with Lilith that Ripp was an unusually quiet boy. Shy, was the term Lilith used most often. Yet something was nagging at him. Even the very shy still exhibited strong emotion. He wished he could ask her more questions, press her for more information, but Ripp was not his client and anything that Lilith told him amounted to little more than hearsay.
“What do you think you should do?” he asked after a moment.
“I don’t know,” she sighed, her shoulders slumping.
The corners of his mouth curling in a slight smile, Winston cocked his head, “What do you want to do?”
“I want,” Lilith paused, emphasizing the word, “to help. I would get him out of that house and away from the lunatic if I could. I don’t know why Ripp hasn’t left already. I would have if it were me.”
“It is possible things are not as bad as they appear,” Winston suggested, he had to put it out there, even if he didn’t really believe it himself, “Ripp would not be the first teenager to exaggerate.”
Lilith shot him a glare that could have peeled paint.
“I said it was possible,” Winston defended, “Not that it was likely.”
“I guess,” she agreed after a moment, returning her gaze to her lap.
“I believe you have the right idea though,” he continued, “Is Ripp involved in any extracurricular activities? Any hobbies outside the home?”
Lilith shook her head.
Winston sighed, rubbing his temple, “Are any of you?”
Lilith thought for a moment before she replied, “Do game conventions and tournaments at the arcade count? ‘Cause if they do, then yeah, Damon and Dirk are.”
“That is something I suppose,” Winston sighed again, “We have talked about this.”
“I know!” Lilith let her arms flop down beside her, her head falling over the back of the chair, “Outside interests are good for me; they help me develop confidence in my abilities and foster a sense of self-worth.”
Winston got to his feet, chuckling at her dramatics, “Not to mention giving you something constructive to focus on.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she grumbled, forcing herself upright in the chair again, “Little good things, not the big bad ones.”
Winston arched a brow in her direction “Little, good things would be good for all of you at this point, yes? Perhaps most especially, Ripp? ”
* * *
4:20 PM Friday, April 11
“Come on,” Juliet urged, “Think of it as your good deed for the year.”
“I don’t do charity,” Telesto retorted.
“You wouldn’t help a friend who needed you?” Juliet looked incredulous.
“Of course I would,” Telesto countered, “And if Ripp actually needed help I would be all over it. He doesn’t need help though, you want gossip.”
“You don’t know that he doesn’t,” she countered.
“You don’t know that he does,” he shot back.
“Look,” she stopped and turned to face him, “It’s easy. You play concerned friend, ask a few questions, and find out what is going on.”
“Or, I can be a real friend and mind my own business,” he countered, “If you are so sure there is something going on, ask him yourself.”
“Fine,” she shrugged heading off down the sidewalk again, “I will.”
“What makes you so sure there is something going on anyway?” Telesto asked a few moments later.
“You’ve known him your entire life, and you haven’t noticed?” she shook her head, chuckling, “Way to keep up Mr. Observant.”
“Hey! I observe!” he insisted, “I just observe other things.”
She gave a small, annoyed snort, “Yes, it’s just too bad that is all you do with them. But Ripp, he’s too quiet. He always seems like he’s hiding. Doesn’t say much.”
“So?” Telesto shrugged, “He’s shy.”
Juliet shook her head, “That’s just it though, I don’t think he is. I think it is more than that.”
“Sometimes it is like he wants to say something and he will start to, but then it is like he thinks better of it and he will stare at the floor instead. It isn’t right. Lilith and Dirk know something, I’m sure of it.”
“You’ve really thought about this haven’t you?”
Juliet rolled her eyes, “Well duh! I’ve been trying to tell you. I think there is something not right going on here.”
Telesto thought for a moment. Finally he nodded, “Okay. If you are so sure, why don’t you try talking to him? See if you can bring him out of his shell a bit? He would probably talk to you before he’d talk to me anyway; we aren’t really all that friendly you know?”
“You’ll help thought right?” she pressed, “See what you can find out?”
“Nope,” he flashed her a grin, “You only want to know what is going on this badly because it is driving you nuts to not know some juicy piece of gossip, or you think you can get something out of it.”
Planting her hands on her hips she fixed him with a glare.
“I am not the only transparent one in this relationship,” he chuckled, “Do your own dirty work Jules.”
“Fine!” she sighed as she wrapped her arms around his neck, “but I have my ways gaining your co-operation.”
“You think?”
She nodded, leaning closer, “So, I know we just got here, but what do you say we go back to my place? No one is home. We could …”
“Our friends are waiting for us, and you want information remember?”
“Why is it every time I even suggest we …”
Telesto cut her off with a kiss.
“What can I say?” He smiled stepping back a moment later, “I’m a social butterfly, I need to flutter.”
“You need your wings clipped”
“Jules,” he sighed, turning serious, “I’m just not …”
“Ready,” she smiled, “I know, but you can’t blame me for trying can you? Come on. We have friends waiting.”
* * *On to Part 4