sudden infusion of energy...!
Jul. 13th, 2008 11:56 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lavandarlizard2I suddenly feel like taking a bullwhip or cattle prod to the hamsters, waving my ten-gallon hat over my head and yelling "Yee-haw!!!"
O.o I wonder why that is...?
Oh, well. Do not question; just go with it. The wombattery will be back soon enough. ^____^
Hope y'all like Miles... ^__~
*go, my furry little minions! retrieve my sushi from the reefer! and don't forget the 64-oz soda to go with. lots of ice, now. shoo!*
BFB - Part 101 - Blood Ties
It was still officially ‘morning’ when they appeared on the front terrace of the sprawling stone mansion. Duo blinked up at the forbidding façade and let out a low whistle.
“You weren’t kidding when you called it ‘gothic’. Damn. Where are the gargoyles?”
Heero turned from dismissing the porter and snorted. “Right here, Banshee; remember?”
It took a few seconds, then Duo blushed lightly. “Ah. Right. I forgot. Ooops…?”
Heero mock-glared at him. “Actually, there were gargoyles on the original building in Europe. Ctik chose not to have them installed when the place was reconstructed. He wasn’t sure how the local Protestants would take them. The carvings are stored in the cellar. Or they were.” He frowned. “Assuming Miles or Theodore didn’t sell them off under Ctik’s nose.”
Duo reached past Heero and thumped the enormous brass doorknocker. “Well, if they did, *I’m* going to do some ass-kicking,” he growled.
The door was opened a few minutes later by a middle-aged woman in jeans and a smock, with her hair tucked under a bandana and a wire running from her ear to a pocket.
“Good morning,” she said rather loudly. “What can I do for you?”
Heero produced a business card. “We are here to see Miles Grinsted.”
The woman gave a faint snort. “You and everybody else,” she muttered. “Come on in and have a seat. I’ll let Mr Grinsted know you’re here.” She escorted them to a tastefully-decorated parlor, not bothering to close the double doors when she went out.
They both listened intently. Footsteps, some murmured words, an exclamation. A female voice slightly louder, sounding both derisive and indignant. The slam of a door. Murmurs. Water running somewhere. Another door; opened, not closed. A male voice. A female voice. A second female voice. An indeterminate voice.
“Hn. Miles, two women and possibly a child, in addition to the woman who answered the door. She is probably the cleaner. Too matronly to be Miles’ spouse.”
“He runs to trophy wives, does he?” Duo said softly.
“He runs to anything out of his reach, if he is anything like Theodore.”
More voices; it sounded like an argument. A female voice overwhelmed the others.
“They asked for you! Now, get in there and act like a man!”
Heero smiled, showing his teeth. “That would be the trophy wife, I expect.”
Heavy footsteps rang on the hardwood floor and they rose to meet their reluctant host.
The man who edged nervously into the room looked nothing like Ctik. This descendant was taller and heavier without being fat; dressed rather fussily for a Saturday morning in creased khaki trousers, a white button-down shirt and a navy sweater vest. Dark hair and eyes behind expensive frames; regular features and a strong chin. Duo supposed him to be a fairly attractive specimen of middle-aged male humanity. In other circumstances, Duo could imagine him being described as dynamic or even commanding, but facing the deceptively smaller Wyvern, Miles just looked scared.
“Miles,” growled Heero. “We have spoken with Ctik.” No pleasantries for the earth-mover and house-seller.
“Uh… Oh. Um…”
“What was the price for your heritage?”
“Huh?”
“How much money did you get for this house?” Heero snarled. Miles leaned back slightly, as if he wanted to run.
“My-my name is on the papers, not his,” he managed.
Heero drew himself up, flexing his hands dangerously. Miles stared at his hands. “*How MUCH*?”
“Miles,” said Duo conversationally from slightly behind Heero. He could play good cop/bad cop. “You know you’d really better answer him, because you don’t want to see him get angry.”
Miles glanced at him and Duo could see the ring of white around his irises. Apparently, Miles did remember his last meeting with Heero; good. He decided to insert himself a bit further into the proceedings, before Heero totally lost his temper. Not that Duo wasn’t just as pissed off, but he could think of more subtle punishments than a quick death.
“So what’d you make on the deal for Ctik’s home, Miles? Ten million? Twenty?”
Heero snorted. “This whole county isn’t worth twenty million dollars.”
“Nine…”
“What was that, Miles?” said Duo, stepping closer.
“Nine million,” he muttered.
“Just for the house? Wow!”
“The land too…”
“Ah. You sold Ctik’s house… and his land… for… nine million dollars?”
“It’s my property…” Miles whined. “I’m the one who takes care of it.”
“Not anymore, though, right? Damn, Heero, maybe Ctik won’t mind so much for nine million. That’ll buy a lot of nice boxes.”
“It’s my money!” Miles snapped. “I worked for it! I made the deal! I got them up to nine million!”
There was a crash out in the hallway and a moment later a red-faced and furious woman stalked in.
O.o I wonder why that is...?
Oh, well. Do not question; just go with it. The wombattery will be back soon enough. ^____^
Hope y'all like Miles... ^__~
*go, my furry little minions! retrieve my sushi from the reefer! and don't forget the 64-oz soda to go with. lots of ice, now. shoo!*
BFB - Part 101 - Blood Ties
It was still officially ‘morning’ when they appeared on the front terrace of the sprawling stone mansion. Duo blinked up at the forbidding façade and let out a low whistle.
“You weren’t kidding when you called it ‘gothic’. Damn. Where are the gargoyles?”
Heero turned from dismissing the porter and snorted. “Right here, Banshee; remember?”
It took a few seconds, then Duo blushed lightly. “Ah. Right. I forgot. Ooops…?”
Heero mock-glared at him. “Actually, there were gargoyles on the original building in Europe. Ctik chose not to have them installed when the place was reconstructed. He wasn’t sure how the local Protestants would take them. The carvings are stored in the cellar. Or they were.” He frowned. “Assuming Miles or Theodore didn’t sell them off under Ctik’s nose.”
Duo reached past Heero and thumped the enormous brass doorknocker. “Well, if they did, *I’m* going to do some ass-kicking,” he growled.
The door was opened a few minutes later by a middle-aged woman in jeans and a smock, with her hair tucked under a bandana and a wire running from her ear to a pocket.
“Good morning,” she said rather loudly. “What can I do for you?”
Heero produced a business card. “We are here to see Miles Grinsted.”
The woman gave a faint snort. “You and everybody else,” she muttered. “Come on in and have a seat. I’ll let Mr Grinsted know you’re here.” She escorted them to a tastefully-decorated parlor, not bothering to close the double doors when she went out.
They both listened intently. Footsteps, some murmured words, an exclamation. A female voice slightly louder, sounding both derisive and indignant. The slam of a door. Murmurs. Water running somewhere. Another door; opened, not closed. A male voice. A female voice. A second female voice. An indeterminate voice.
“Hn. Miles, two women and possibly a child, in addition to the woman who answered the door. She is probably the cleaner. Too matronly to be Miles’ spouse.”
“He runs to trophy wives, does he?” Duo said softly.
“He runs to anything out of his reach, if he is anything like Theodore.”
More voices; it sounded like an argument. A female voice overwhelmed the others.
“They asked for you! Now, get in there and act like a man!”
Heero smiled, showing his teeth. “That would be the trophy wife, I expect.”
Heavy footsteps rang on the hardwood floor and they rose to meet their reluctant host.
The man who edged nervously into the room looked nothing like Ctik. This descendant was taller and heavier without being fat; dressed rather fussily for a Saturday morning in creased khaki trousers, a white button-down shirt and a navy sweater vest. Dark hair and eyes behind expensive frames; regular features and a strong chin. Duo supposed him to be a fairly attractive specimen of middle-aged male humanity. In other circumstances, Duo could imagine him being described as dynamic or even commanding, but facing the deceptively smaller Wyvern, Miles just looked scared.
“Miles,” growled Heero. “We have spoken with Ctik.” No pleasantries for the earth-mover and house-seller.
“Uh… Oh. Um…”
“What was the price for your heritage?”
“Huh?”
“How much money did you get for this house?” Heero snarled. Miles leaned back slightly, as if he wanted to run.
“My-my name is on the papers, not his,” he managed.
Heero drew himself up, flexing his hands dangerously. Miles stared at his hands. “*How MUCH*?”
“Miles,” said Duo conversationally from slightly behind Heero. He could play good cop/bad cop. “You know you’d really better answer him, because you don’t want to see him get angry.”
Miles glanced at him and Duo could see the ring of white around his irises. Apparently, Miles did remember his last meeting with Heero; good. He decided to insert himself a bit further into the proceedings, before Heero totally lost his temper. Not that Duo wasn’t just as pissed off, but he could think of more subtle punishments than a quick death.
“So what’d you make on the deal for Ctik’s home, Miles? Ten million? Twenty?”
Heero snorted. “This whole county isn’t worth twenty million dollars.”
“Nine…”
“What was that, Miles?” said Duo, stepping closer.
“Nine million,” he muttered.
“Just for the house? Wow!”
“The land too…”
“Ah. You sold Ctik’s house… and his land… for… nine million dollars?”
“It’s my property…” Miles whined. “I’m the one who takes care of it.”
“Not anymore, though, right? Damn, Heero, maybe Ctik won’t mind so much for nine million. That’ll buy a lot of nice boxes.”
“It’s my money!” Miles snapped. “I worked for it! I made the deal! I got them up to nine million!”
There was a crash out in the hallway and a moment later a red-faced and furious woman stalked in.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-07-13 07:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-13 07:48 pm (UTC)Maybe... pissed-off cop and snarky cop? O.O
no subject
Date: 2008-07-13 08:28 pm (UTC)Hey... get that damn hamster off my leg! How did you DO that?! O.o;;
Ahhhhh! No!
...
Damn it. ~_~
no subject
Date: 2008-07-13 11:50 pm (UTC)^___~
no subject
Date: 2008-07-14 01:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-14 02:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-14 02:31 am (UTC)there are no words to describe the awesomeness that is you.
no subject
Date: 2008-07-14 02:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-13 07:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-13 08:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-13 08:36 pm (UTC)And why am I thinking that Miles is more in danger from the woman than from the boys? Perhaps he didn't tell her how much he got?
no subject
Date: 2008-07-13 11:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-14 01:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-14 02:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-14 03:38 am (UTC)Lovely, as usual.
no subject
Date: 2008-07-19 04:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-15 01:39 pm (UTC)Ohhh Bad cop and scarier cop is not good for Miles health *snicker*
annakas
no subject
Date: 2008-07-19 04:39 am (UTC)