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lavandarlizard2...but it's not. Sorry. The next bit is, though, so no whining.
I have a boredom headache, brought on by a week of doing absolutely fuck-all at work. I have never had a week so dead. >.< And being on the main traffic lane pretty much insures that I can't cheat and work on fics...
But... here's this, anyway...
*throws catnip mouse at hamsters lounging on cats* (aspirin! bring me aspirin, you lazy furballs!)
Part 089 - BFB - Statement
(b)
Nine o’clock the next morning found me sitting in a comfortable chair in a comfortably-appointed office, across the table from a gently-smiling female sheriff’s detective. I had a glass of iced tea, there was a plate of home-made cookies on the table, Master Reptilious sat on my left at the table, Q sat at my right and Heero was standing guard over all of us behind me. From somewhere – maybe a theatrical supply house – he had acquired a pair of mirrored wrap-around glasses and he had dressed all in black. He looked like a television assassin. I’m not sure why no one else was laughing; I could barely contain my snickers.
Master Reptilious apparently believed, like Q, that these things went better in Wizard drag; he was tricked out in a somber bottle green robe with brushed bronze trim and a matching cloak. His tall pointed hat was predominately bronze with a smattering of green stones. Even his briefcase was green and bronze.
Q, of course, also went with Wizard drag; this time a dramatic purple costume trimmed in fur, right down to his boots. He’d magicked away his hat, maybe so Master Reptilious could be that much more imposing. For all of his robes, Q does not cut a very daunting figure next to many Human males, being rather slight in comparison. I think he uses that to his advantage, to take them off guard sometimes.
Me? I was wearing one of my Banshee costumes. Not the formal thing, just blue leggings and tunic with a darker blue duster cloak. I threw on a beaded belt because I felt the need of a little bit of sparkle. I didn’t want to feel particularly conspicuous, you know? But I didn’t want it to look like I was trying to deny what I am.
I wondered where the other cops were; the ones who had been at the hospital. I remember them being there and I remember feeling just hopelessly embarrassed in front of them, but I doubted that my embarrassment had much to do with who handled this case.
I kind of zoned off for a bit, while introductions were made and Master Reptilious and Q explained what they would allow, and the detective explained what she needed. Heero rumbled behind me; he was close enough that if I tilted my head back, I could feel his warmth against my hair.
Next to the plate of cookies was a small tape recorder. I’d also spotted the camera mounted in the corner of the room, near the ceiling. I just reminded myself that I was the victim here; not that sorry pervert at the cabin, not Julie who betrayed our friendship.
That’s the part that hurts the most, I think. I guess I sort of blocked it out, at least until the day I found the crocheted granny squares amongst my knitting. That was... not a good moment. Heero heard something and came bursting into my room with that look in his eyes, and found me sitting on the floor sobbing into a pile of yarn. I didn’t go to work the next day. Spent the whole bloody day in bed, sniffling and wiping at my eyes. It just hurt so damn much, so sharply. Heero wanted to throw the things away, but I wouldn’t let him. I also wouldn’t let him rip them up. A friend taught me to make those stupid things and I couldn’t bring myself to let go of that thought. I did put them away, but then I found myself looking through crochet patterns. I guess one day I’ll try it again, maybe when the memory isn’t so immediate.
The detective cleared her throat. “Are we ready to begin, Mr...” She blinked as if she hadn’t realised that I don’t have a last name.
For some reason, my mouth took it upon itself to answer her. “Maxwell. If you need a surname, use Maxwell.” She raised one eyebrow questioningly. I shrugged. “I lived in some foster homes; that was the people’s name where I stayed the longest.” I looked down at the table, making little circles on the veneer with my fingers. “They were pretty nice people.”
She smiled at me and said, “Okay, then, Mr Maxwell. How did you meet Julie Strauber?”
...tbc...
I have a boredom headache, brought on by a week of doing absolutely fuck-all at work. I have never had a week so dead. >.< And being on the main traffic lane pretty much insures that I can't cheat and work on fics...
But... here's this, anyway...
*throws catnip mouse at hamsters lounging on cats* (aspirin! bring me aspirin, you lazy furballs!)
Part 089 - BFB - Statement
(b)
Nine o’clock the next morning found me sitting in a comfortable chair in a comfortably-appointed office, across the table from a gently-smiling female sheriff’s detective. I had a glass of iced tea, there was a plate of home-made cookies on the table, Master Reptilious sat on my left at the table, Q sat at my right and Heero was standing guard over all of us behind me. From somewhere – maybe a theatrical supply house – he had acquired a pair of mirrored wrap-around glasses and he had dressed all in black. He looked like a television assassin. I’m not sure why no one else was laughing; I could barely contain my snickers.
Master Reptilious apparently believed, like Q, that these things went better in Wizard drag; he was tricked out in a somber bottle green robe with brushed bronze trim and a matching cloak. His tall pointed hat was predominately bronze with a smattering of green stones. Even his briefcase was green and bronze.
Q, of course, also went with Wizard drag; this time a dramatic purple costume trimmed in fur, right down to his boots. He’d magicked away his hat, maybe so Master Reptilious could be that much more imposing. For all of his robes, Q does not cut a very daunting figure next to many Human males, being rather slight in comparison. I think he uses that to his advantage, to take them off guard sometimes.
Me? I was wearing one of my Banshee costumes. Not the formal thing, just blue leggings and tunic with a darker blue duster cloak. I threw on a beaded belt because I felt the need of a little bit of sparkle. I didn’t want to feel particularly conspicuous, you know? But I didn’t want it to look like I was trying to deny what I am.
I wondered where the other cops were; the ones who had been at the hospital. I remember them being there and I remember feeling just hopelessly embarrassed in front of them, but I doubted that my embarrassment had much to do with who handled this case.
I kind of zoned off for a bit, while introductions were made and Master Reptilious and Q explained what they would allow, and the detective explained what she needed. Heero rumbled behind me; he was close enough that if I tilted my head back, I could feel his warmth against my hair.
Next to the plate of cookies was a small tape recorder. I’d also spotted the camera mounted in the corner of the room, near the ceiling. I just reminded myself that I was the victim here; not that sorry pervert at the cabin, not Julie who betrayed our friendship.
That’s the part that hurts the most, I think. I guess I sort of blocked it out, at least until the day I found the crocheted granny squares amongst my knitting. That was... not a good moment. Heero heard something and came bursting into my room with that look in his eyes, and found me sitting on the floor sobbing into a pile of yarn. I didn’t go to work the next day. Spent the whole bloody day in bed, sniffling and wiping at my eyes. It just hurt so damn much, so sharply. Heero wanted to throw the things away, but I wouldn’t let him. I also wouldn’t let him rip them up. A friend taught me to make those stupid things and I couldn’t bring myself to let go of that thought. I did put them away, but then I found myself looking through crochet patterns. I guess one day I’ll try it again, maybe when the memory isn’t so immediate.
The detective cleared her throat. “Are we ready to begin, Mr...” She blinked as if she hadn’t realised that I don’t have a last name.
For some reason, my mouth took it upon itself to answer her. “Maxwell. If you need a surname, use Maxwell.” She raised one eyebrow questioningly. I shrugged. “I lived in some foster homes; that was the people’s name where I stayed the longest.” I looked down at the table, making little circles on the veneer with my fingers. “They were pretty nice people.”
She smiled at me and said, “Okay, then, Mr Maxwell. How did you meet Julie Strauber?”
...tbc...
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no subject
Date: 2005-04-30 04:21 pm (UTC)Poor Duo... though, it looks like this should be easier than the last time. Nice lady brought cookies, that has to count for something... right? O.O
no subject
Date: 2005-04-30 08:55 pm (UTC)The previous ones probably would've brought brass knuckles and threats of jail time and then Heero would've just had to remove them in the usual Wyvern fashion.
Hmm... I can see the menu in the cafeteria now... "Special today only... Long Pig sandwiches; $3.98"
no subject
Date: 2005-05-01 03:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-05-01 01:04 pm (UTC)