Guava and Trail Mix with Hot Fudge and a Cherry On Top!
Story: Timeless { backstory | index }
Title: Bubbles
Rating: G/PG (mild cursing)
Challenge: Guava #23: more than you can chew, Trail Mix #24: middle of nowhere
Toppings/Extras: cherry (first person and present tense), hot fudge
Wordcount: 641
Summary: Miss Merritt debates what most irritates her: seasickness, or Isaac Prowse.
Notes: All right, I’m going to have a go at this back-to-school challenge...!
The sea goes on forever around me. As far as the eye can see, it’s just that taut blue line of the horizon, slicing my world perfectly in half: symmetric blues of the sky and the sea. And do I ever hate it.
Queasiness eats at my stomach and I press my lips together, lowering my sweating forehead onto the backs of my hands. This is not what I was made for. This is not the environment I should be in. I’m a city girl, born and raised-well, so’s everyone. How many people have to put up with this... nothingness? Not a ‘scraper in sight, and the usual crowds completely dissolved. I don’t see why the pirates do this to themselves, really, I don’t.
My stomach heaves and I get this funny feeling, like I’m full of thick gelatinous bubbles, traversing up and down my insides. It’s not a good feeling.
The subordinates shouldn’t see me like this. Isn’t it ridiculous, how I only packed business suits to wear? I mean, I don’t really wear anything else. All I do is work. Being Horatio Newson’s PA is a full-time job, and by full-time I mean twenty-four hours a day. I close my eyes and start to count. My vision is peppered with white. Bloody Newson. I told him I got seasick, and he sent me anyway. He looked so damn amused as he waved me off.
Bastard.
“It actually helps to look at the sea,” comes one of the dozens of irritating gnat-voices that pours constantly into my ear all day. I flick my eyes open and glare up at Mr Prowse, the irksome bodyguard that Ashdown brought from the past. “Lets your mind know what’s causing the movement, or something like that.”
Who does he think he is?
Trying to be helpful at a time like this!
“I’m not an idiot, Mr Prowse,” I spit at him. The ship wobbles again and my ears fizzle. Without meaning to, I make a noise like a mouse being drowned, before I look away from him.
“Cold hearted as a dead penguin,” Prowse simply replies. Smiling. Smiling. Why do people have to smile? When I feel this sick, a smile is like a pointed stick being jammed into my eye socket. Prowse isn’t exactly a big smiler, either: I bet he’s just doing it to annoy me.
“Stop talking to me,” I gasp, and wipe more sweat from my face.
“You look pale.”
“I said...”
He raises his hands and backs off-he knows this is a battle he’s bound to lose.
“I don’t like the situation any more than you do, you know,” he says, with a touch of reproach. I can’t even look at him. “The man I’m meant to be guarding is hundreds of miles away. I’m only here to oversee... whatever that means.”
“Horatio’s using you to keep Ashdown in line, you idiot,” I hiss. “After it turned out Ashdown didn’t give a damn we had his wife, there wasn’t much more of an option.”
Prowse smiles a little more. Bastard.
“It’s easy to misjudge him,” he says slowly. “Ashdown’s actually pretty smart...”
“Smart!” I managed to bark out an inane laugh. “I don’t know why Newson thought this was a good idea. He’s obviously totally dense. Ashdown’s idea of living life dangerously is not stirring his tea before he drinks it.”
“And yours is... what, exactly?” Prowse asks lightly. “Wearing a blazer that doesn’t match your skirt?”
“Get away from me!” I half-snap, half-groan-which is no mean achievement, I’m telling you. Prowse doesn’t hesitate: he gives me this ridiculous, mocking little bow and then strides away, the sun slanting down over his chestnut hair, making the silver streak near his hairline glimmer. He seems right as rain. Everyone does.
I think I’m going to be sick.