30-03-2019, 07:08 PM
Troy closed the bedroom door behind him. Helen stood, looking at the display case of little gifts that he and Julie had given each other over the years, and remembering the stories behind most of them.
"What'd you ever do with mine?" Helen said, looking at the pair of pink, lace panties in the case that Julie had removed on her and Troy's first night together and given to him as her first gift to her newest and final boyfriend. She then gave out an "Oh!" as she noticed the engraved gold invitation she'd given them to the castle ball, from the first time they'd gone to San Finzione.
Helen walked back across the room and hugged Troy.
"Thank you." She said. "Something of mine, up there. I get what that means."
Troy hugged back.
"Like your paintings, we thought it just belonged."
Troy kissed Helen on the forehead. Helen tried to pull him toward the bed. Troy let her for a couple of steps before he stopped and pulled away. She sighed and sat on the bed.
"They'd probably hear us, anyway." She said with a smirk. "It's safe to talk here?"
"I'm pretty sure I saw Velasquez come out of here, so I imagine it's been swept for bugs, and we soundproofed the bedrooms."
"Mander might be interested in hearing how you did that. He's gotten into home improvement in a big way since I last saw him."
"Ok, let's start with Mander." Troy said, taking a seat on the chaise lounge across from her. "You have thirty-six elite troops, ready to kill or die on your command; even without Doing What We Do to make them, having what looks like a pretty good barbecue across the street."
"You're all invited, of course." Helen interrupted. "Sorry, I just should have said earlier."
"Thanks. Maisson's burgers are smelling pretty good, we just might come over. Back to the question, though: Why is the larger of the two thugs that Professor Moriarty sends to abduct The Girl traveling with you?"
Helen suddenly laughed at that. Troy looked confused until she spoke.
"Sorry, it's just... that's... you don't know..." Helen spoke quickly to change the subject before Troy asked for more on that. "The Ultimados have been on edge since the attack, Troilus. Nobody who knows about The Thing blames Ramirez; although there have been some fairly unflattering political cartoons about him lately. That's why he's not here. He's advising Contessa-In-Reggenza Maria while this blows over. The way they see it, La Squadra de Ultimados failed before they succeeded. So, they're out to redeem themselves, even though there's nothing to redeem. They're TOO ready to kill or die on my command right now, Troilus. It's the kind of irrational, macho, 'there's us and there's them' military pride that we grew up around in Anchorage, and it leads to people who DON'T have a 'stabbing me' agenda getting hurt."
"Susan says you get a lot of that in the service industry, too. Like, even more than Marines, because they've also got to put up with the Marines sometimes being asshole customers, just like the rest of us. You could always command them get over it."
Helen gave him a blank look before responding in a Valley Girl voice.
"Yeah, like, I know, right? But there's, like, this guy I know? And he's always going on about this guy named 'Prince Upulls?' And he's, like, MAJORLY cute, so I thought I'd check it out? And one of the ones I'm trying is, like, NOT disrespecting the people who've, like, sworn to put bullets into other people for me? Or, like, get bullets put into themselves for me? So, I don't want to like, handwave their feelings away, ya know? I'd rather save that for something more important than wounded pride?"
Troy smiled at that. It made Helen smile too.
"I can see that you're trying, Helen." Troy said, taking hold of her hand. "I can also see that you've been trying to use humor to deflect things since probably before you cooked up the reunion idea. Definitely since you knocked on the door. Petalouda, there's something you're trying to put off telling me as long as you can. I suspect that whatever it is, I'm not going to like it any more a few days from now than I will right at this moment. Do you need me to help you go deeper and be honest?"
"No, Troilus." She said, pulling away. She looked down, then back up at him. "You know that the man who stabbed me wasn't some lone psycho. He'd been a hitman, back when we were kids. He went straight, Troy. Like how Wade used to promise the parole board he would, but never had any intention of doing."
Helen stopped for a moment, as if she'd stunned herself by what she'd just said. She continued speaking as her hand slipped into her black Prada Arcade bag.
"In fact, hearing it out loud like that, that's not a bad comparison: This guy was, like, the Anti-Wade. He MADE The Big Score and got out clean. Went straight, married his girl, got a farm out in the country, had kids, raised them to be better than him; did all the things that Wade promised Marion he'd do 'someday.'
"Then he contracted a terminal illness; a brain tumor. The money dried up, he'd lost his hearing, and things were only going to get worse from there. The coroner's report..." She dug out what she'd been seeking in the purse, and dropped a thick file folder onto the bed. "Said he'd have been bedridden within a few months, dead within a year. A man found him, preyed upon his fears of leaving his family impoverished, and paid Frank Morgan enough money to throw his remaining life away in an effort to end mine."
Troy reached over to the bed and opened the folder. The coroner's report was on top of a number of other documents stapled together inside; many showing holes where the staples had been removed and replaced multiple times.
"What'd you ever do with mine?" Helen said, looking at the pair of pink, lace panties in the case that Julie had removed on her and Troy's first night together and given to him as her first gift to her newest and final boyfriend. She then gave out an "Oh!" as she noticed the engraved gold invitation she'd given them to the castle ball, from the first time they'd gone to San Finzione.
Helen walked back across the room and hugged Troy.
"Thank you." She said. "Something of mine, up there. I get what that means."
Troy hugged back.
"Like your paintings, we thought it just belonged."
Troy kissed Helen on the forehead. Helen tried to pull him toward the bed. Troy let her for a couple of steps before he stopped and pulled away. She sighed and sat on the bed.
"They'd probably hear us, anyway." She said with a smirk. "It's safe to talk here?"
"I'm pretty sure I saw Velasquez come out of here, so I imagine it's been swept for bugs, and we soundproofed the bedrooms."
"Mander might be interested in hearing how you did that. He's gotten into home improvement in a big way since I last saw him."
"Ok, let's start with Mander." Troy said, taking a seat on the chaise lounge across from her. "You have thirty-six elite troops, ready to kill or die on your command; even without Doing What We Do to make them, having what looks like a pretty good barbecue across the street."
"You're all invited, of course." Helen interrupted. "Sorry, I just should have said earlier."
"Thanks. Maisson's burgers are smelling pretty good, we just might come over. Back to the question, though: Why is the larger of the two thugs that Professor Moriarty sends to abduct The Girl traveling with you?"
Helen suddenly laughed at that. Troy looked confused until she spoke.
"Sorry, it's just... that's... you don't know..." Helen spoke quickly to change the subject before Troy asked for more on that. "The Ultimados have been on edge since the attack, Troilus. Nobody who knows about The Thing blames Ramirez; although there have been some fairly unflattering political cartoons about him lately. That's why he's not here. He's advising Contessa-In-Reggenza Maria while this blows over. The way they see it, La Squadra de Ultimados failed before they succeeded. So, they're out to redeem themselves, even though there's nothing to redeem. They're TOO ready to kill or die on my command right now, Troilus. It's the kind of irrational, macho, 'there's us and there's them' military pride that we grew up around in Anchorage, and it leads to people who DON'T have a 'stabbing me' agenda getting hurt."
"Susan says you get a lot of that in the service industry, too. Like, even more than Marines, because they've also got to put up with the Marines sometimes being asshole customers, just like the rest of us. You could always command them get over it."
Helen gave him a blank look before responding in a Valley Girl voice.
"Yeah, like, I know, right? But there's, like, this guy I know? And he's always going on about this guy named 'Prince Upulls?' And he's, like, MAJORLY cute, so I thought I'd check it out? And one of the ones I'm trying is, like, NOT disrespecting the people who've, like, sworn to put bullets into other people for me? Or, like, get bullets put into themselves for me? So, I don't want to like, handwave their feelings away, ya know? I'd rather save that for something more important than wounded pride?"
Troy smiled at that. It made Helen smile too.
"I can see that you're trying, Helen." Troy said, taking hold of her hand. "I can also see that you've been trying to use humor to deflect things since probably before you cooked up the reunion idea. Definitely since you knocked on the door. Petalouda, there's something you're trying to put off telling me as long as you can. I suspect that whatever it is, I'm not going to like it any more a few days from now than I will right at this moment. Do you need me to help you go deeper and be honest?"
"No, Troilus." She said, pulling away. She looked down, then back up at him. "You know that the man who stabbed me wasn't some lone psycho. He'd been a hitman, back when we were kids. He went straight, Troy. Like how Wade used to promise the parole board he would, but never had any intention of doing."
Helen stopped for a moment, as if she'd stunned herself by what she'd just said. She continued speaking as her hand slipped into her black Prada Arcade bag.
"In fact, hearing it out loud like that, that's not a bad comparison: This guy was, like, the Anti-Wade. He MADE The Big Score and got out clean. Went straight, married his girl, got a farm out in the country, had kids, raised them to be better than him; did all the things that Wade promised Marion he'd do 'someday.'
"Then he contracted a terminal illness; a brain tumor. The money dried up, he'd lost his hearing, and things were only going to get worse from there. The coroner's report..." She dug out what she'd been seeking in the purse, and dropped a thick file folder onto the bed. "Said he'd have been bedridden within a few months, dead within a year. A man found him, preyed upon his fears of leaving his family impoverished, and paid Frank Morgan enough money to throw his remaining life away in an effort to end mine."
Troy reached over to the bed and opened the folder. The coroner's report was on top of a number of other documents stapled together inside; many showing holes where the staples had been removed and replaced multiple times.
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