07-04-2019, 10:28 PM
"This isn't the same as taking her to a crime scene, surrounded by fifty cops and Ramirez, you sent her on a FUCKING Ultimados OP! And I REMEMBER the quality of guys you used to bring home, Helena!"
"Yeah, your taste in men has always sucked really bad, Helen." Troy said from the doorway, stepping in with what he hoped was a disarming smile.
The two women stopped and turned to Troy. They simultaneously dropped the sharp dish fragments they'd been holding, causing them to break into tinier pieces. Julie stomped toward him.
"Troy, do you know what she did?"
"Capitan Ortega told me. And Mander and Velasquez went with her?"
Helen nodded and stomped up to join them.
"Yes. She wanted to help. I told her she could help us all by staying safe here. But, like someone told me earlier, I'm not going to keep you guys under house arrest all week."
"Then what?" Julie turned to her again. "She asked you what it was like to get stabbed and nearly die and you recommended she try it?"
Helen's response to that was to sucker punch the first girl she ever loved in the stomach.
"Felt about like that, bitch!" Helen shouted as Julie doubled over onto her knees. Julie looked up and saw that Helen's crotch was unguarded, and was about to nail her with a fist right in the cunt when Troy grabbed it and dropped to his knees to look Julie in the eye.
"I just got you back, Mistress." Troy said softly, putting his hand on the back of her neck and gently guiding both their heads together until they touched. Helen could still hear him; he'd been making no effort for her not to hear. "And I won't have the strength to do it again without some of that barbecue that I've been smelling since I was a block from home and a nap."
He took hold of her hands and kissed her forehead.
"I don't know what's going to happen to anyone; but I see Helen's point: It's Susan. She was going to try to help in some way. Helen gets that, too. Remember what Susan said before we went to the room? She doesn't want to be the princess locked in the tower. Just like Princess Mesmera wouldn't tolerate it. That's a third of the reason I didn't suggest that you go away with her."
While they spoke, Helen found where her cigarettes had gotten to in the struggle. She fished one out of the crumpled pack, found it was broken, pulled out another, and put it in her mouth. She looked about for her lighter for a moment, couldn't find it, and went into the kitchen.
"But what's she going to do, Master?" Julie whispered back, calming down. Helen fiddled with something out of sight in the kitchen. The stove clicked on a moment later. "We've taught her how to Do What We Do, and she's been doing great, but she's never had to COUNT on it, Troy." Helen returned from the kitchen with a lit cigarette. Julie gestured with her right shoulder, because Troy's back was to Helen. Julie seemed to be almost deflating as she looked into her best friend's eyes. "Like she did... that one time it didn't work..."
Helen stopped at that. Her other hand crept up to the scar on her neck while Julie continued.
"You've both gotten me thinking about other ways What We Do doesn't work. Here's one that she forgot from our time in Europe: They've got to understand us. If we ran into someone who didn't know English, French, or Greek, Helena had to do the talking. I could only get across what I could infer from similar languages. Triads are Chinese, aren't they? What if the guys they send don't know English? She..." Julie gestured to Helen again. "Could just tell them to drop their guns in Cantonese or Mandarin... She'll take one look at them and know the right fucking regional dialect to use! That's probably WHY her thing is languages: So Helena can command anyone and everyone!"
Helen finally spoke.
"Velasquez and Mander speak a language everyone understands. I know you'd like to believe otherwise, Troy, but all too often, it's the only one people will listen to."
Troy turned to her with a look that told Helen that she wasn't helping.
"I said I saw your point, Helen; I didn't say you were right. The woman has administrative skills, and it looks like you had a little office setup here before it all got smashed. You could have just asked her to be your secretary while all this is going on."
"She's not Moneypenny, Troilus." Helen replied, taking a couple of careful steps closer. "She was pretty perceptive before learning The Thing, she'd have seen that for what it was right away; an effort to give her something to keep her busy and safely out of the way. She would have told me to fuck off, I would have deserved it, and then she would have gone home mad and started thinking of ways she could contribute substantively. I tried telling her that you'd never go for it, too. That would factor into her thinking, and she would have concluded that she's a big girl and she'll just have to find a way to help without our fucking permission. Then we're in the 'daughter sneaks out and goes to an older kids' boy/girl party with no parents' episode of some wacky sitcom."'
"Yeah, your taste in men has always sucked really bad, Helen." Troy said from the doorway, stepping in with what he hoped was a disarming smile.
The two women stopped and turned to Troy. They simultaneously dropped the sharp dish fragments they'd been holding, causing them to break into tinier pieces. Julie stomped toward him.
"Troy, do you know what she did?"
"Capitan Ortega told me. And Mander and Velasquez went with her?"
Helen nodded and stomped up to join them.
"Yes. She wanted to help. I told her she could help us all by staying safe here. But, like someone told me earlier, I'm not going to keep you guys under house arrest all week."
"Then what?" Julie turned to her again. "She asked you what it was like to get stabbed and nearly die and you recommended she try it?"
Helen's response to that was to sucker punch the first girl she ever loved in the stomach.
"Felt about like that, bitch!" Helen shouted as Julie doubled over onto her knees. Julie looked up and saw that Helen's crotch was unguarded, and was about to nail her with a fist right in the cunt when Troy grabbed it and dropped to his knees to look Julie in the eye.
"I just got you back, Mistress." Troy said softly, putting his hand on the back of her neck and gently guiding both their heads together until they touched. Helen could still hear him; he'd been making no effort for her not to hear. "And I won't have the strength to do it again without some of that barbecue that I've been smelling since I was a block from home and a nap."
He took hold of her hands and kissed her forehead.
"I don't know what's going to happen to anyone; but I see Helen's point: It's Susan. She was going to try to help in some way. Helen gets that, too. Remember what Susan said before we went to the room? She doesn't want to be the princess locked in the tower. Just like Princess Mesmera wouldn't tolerate it. That's a third of the reason I didn't suggest that you go away with her."
While they spoke, Helen found where her cigarettes had gotten to in the struggle. She fished one out of the crumpled pack, found it was broken, pulled out another, and put it in her mouth. She looked about for her lighter for a moment, couldn't find it, and went into the kitchen.
"But what's she going to do, Master?" Julie whispered back, calming down. Helen fiddled with something out of sight in the kitchen. The stove clicked on a moment later. "We've taught her how to Do What We Do, and she's been doing great, but she's never had to COUNT on it, Troy." Helen returned from the kitchen with a lit cigarette. Julie gestured with her right shoulder, because Troy's back was to Helen. Julie seemed to be almost deflating as she looked into her best friend's eyes. "Like she did... that one time it didn't work..."
Helen stopped at that. Her other hand crept up to the scar on her neck while Julie continued.
"You've both gotten me thinking about other ways What We Do doesn't work. Here's one that she forgot from our time in Europe: They've got to understand us. If we ran into someone who didn't know English, French, or Greek, Helena had to do the talking. I could only get across what I could infer from similar languages. Triads are Chinese, aren't they? What if the guys they send don't know English? She..." Julie gestured to Helen again. "Could just tell them to drop their guns in Cantonese or Mandarin... She'll take one look at them and know the right fucking regional dialect to use! That's probably WHY her thing is languages: So Helena can command anyone and everyone!"
Helen finally spoke.
"Velasquez and Mander speak a language everyone understands. I know you'd like to believe otherwise, Troy, but all too often, it's the only one people will listen to."
Troy turned to her with a look that told Helen that she wasn't helping.
"I said I saw your point, Helen; I didn't say you were right. The woman has administrative skills, and it looks like you had a little office setup here before it all got smashed. You could have just asked her to be your secretary while all this is going on."
"She's not Moneypenny, Troilus." Helen replied, taking a couple of careful steps closer. "She was pretty perceptive before learning The Thing, she'd have seen that for what it was right away; an effort to give her something to keep her busy and safely out of the way. She would have told me to fuck off, I would have deserved it, and then she would have gone home mad and started thinking of ways she could contribute substantively. I tried telling her that you'd never go for it, too. That would factor into her thinking, and she would have concluded that she's a big girl and she'll just have to find a way to help without our fucking permission. Then we're in the 'daughter sneaks out and goes to an older kids' boy/girl party with no parents' episode of some wacky sitcom."'
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