17-04-2019, 02:02 PM
The Ultimados flanking the door outside Contessa Helena de San Finzione's room stood at attention. One of them knocked on it. La Contessa bid him open the door.
A hand holding a vase containing a dozen Julie Andrews Roses appeared in the doorway. Helen smiled at it. A few seconds later, another hand holding a small, white, arrow-shaped sign on a tiny stick with "Free Helen Seed" on it appeared, and pointed the arrow at the flowers.
Helen laughed, the morphine adding to her amusement. As Troy entered the room, he froze in mid-air and made a "Ding" sound with his mouth.
"Troy Equals: Mathematicus Sheepfuckius." Helen said aloud.
Troy continued walking toward Helen, trying not to laugh; when she, too, froze and went "Ding."
"Contessa Helena de San Finzione: Wickedstepmothericus Fuckyouhelenus." Came his reply.
He set the flowers on the nightstand next to her, couldn't come up with a hugging scenario that he felt he could safely get around her stitches and fractured left shoulder, and settled for a kiss. With her right hand, Helen grabbed the back of his head and held his lips to hers until they parted to let her tongue in. After a few seconds, they broke the kiss.
"Hey, Girl." Troy said.
"Hey, Boy."
"How're you doing?" He asked.
Helena motioned with her head that he should close the door. She waited for it to close to give her reply as Troy took the recliner that was still in the room from Julie's stay with her and pulled it back up to the bed to hold her hand.
"Really needing a smoke."
Troy patted her hand.
"Julie was worried that the one you took there," Troy said, pointing to the spot on Helena's breast that was bandaged and covered by the gown. "Might've gotten your lung."
Helena picked up a pen and started holding it the way she'd hold a cigarette.
"Nobody kills these fuckers but me," she said thumping her chest, then wincing a bit as she felt it through the drugs.
"Well, still, I guess after something like this, I'm not taking you home today."
Helen shook her head, and felt more not-quite pain down her shoulder and arm, becoming acutely aware of how interconnected the parts of her body were.
"They say if it looks good tomorrow, the next day would be possible."
Troy looked at her cautiously.
"You didn't do anything foolish to make them put a rush on that decision, did you?"
She almost nodded "no" again, before remembering how it felt before, and met his look instead.
"No. If I was doing The Thing to the doctors, I'd be smoking by now. Some of the care team will be staying at the castle to give me round-the-clock care; I imagine, until I start charging them for their stay." Helen changed the subject. "So, where's Susan?"
"At the marketplace. We didn't really have time to pack, so she needed clothes. Should've known better than 'We'll just stop for a couple of hours.' Stavro's looking after her while Maria's busy."
"Well, that's why I left the money."
"Oh, she didn't take it. I've been investing for her too, so as long as Stavro can keep her from spending too long at the Armani shop, she'll have no problems. She's been concerned that accepting the passport makes her one of your 'subjects' now."
Helen smiled at the thought.
"No more so than you or Julie would be. She won't get drafted."
Helen could tell from the look on Troy's face that the conversation was about to shift gears.
"Helen, someone tried to kill you. I told the Generalissimo I wouldn't ask him about it, or make him tell me. I wasn't going to ask at all but he said you were concerned by it, and you said it was what all this was about: Springheel."
Helen's eyes widened at his use of the word. Troy sensed that it had affected her and tried to calm her down.
"Hey, hey, it's just a word you said while you were delirious. Only him, Julie, and I heard it. He already knows, and Julie thinks you were rambling about this season's new shoe line. You know, 'spring heels.'"
"Troilus," Helen said, trying to sit up as best she could without hurting herself. "I need you to let this go. For me, please. I know he's your hero, but don't try to be James Bond."
"Julie DID give me her dad's Walther PPK for an anniversary. Not the wedding, another."
Troy saw by the look in Helen's eyes that the joke wasn't working.
"Seriously, Troy, I can't tell you what it's about, it's classified to the highest levels for a reason. At least one person, that I know of, has already died over it. It's what the assassin was sent after me about, and why whoever's behind this planted the bomb."
A hand holding a vase containing a dozen Julie Andrews Roses appeared in the doorway. Helen smiled at it. A few seconds later, another hand holding a small, white, arrow-shaped sign on a tiny stick with "Free Helen Seed" on it appeared, and pointed the arrow at the flowers.
Helen laughed, the morphine adding to her amusement. As Troy entered the room, he froze in mid-air and made a "Ding" sound with his mouth.
"Troy Equals: Mathematicus Sheepfuckius." Helen said aloud.
Troy continued walking toward Helen, trying not to laugh; when she, too, froze and went "Ding."
"Contessa Helena de San Finzione: Wickedstepmothericus Fuckyouhelenus." Came his reply.
He set the flowers on the nightstand next to her, couldn't come up with a hugging scenario that he felt he could safely get around her stitches and fractured left shoulder, and settled for a kiss. With her right hand, Helen grabbed the back of his head and held his lips to hers until they parted to let her tongue in. After a few seconds, they broke the kiss.
"Hey, Girl." Troy said.
"Hey, Boy."
"How're you doing?" He asked.
Helena motioned with her head that he should close the door. She waited for it to close to give her reply as Troy took the recliner that was still in the room from Julie's stay with her and pulled it back up to the bed to hold her hand.
"Really needing a smoke."
Troy patted her hand.
"Julie was worried that the one you took there," Troy said, pointing to the spot on Helena's breast that was bandaged and covered by the gown. "Might've gotten your lung."
Helena picked up a pen and started holding it the way she'd hold a cigarette.
"Nobody kills these fuckers but me," she said thumping her chest, then wincing a bit as she felt it through the drugs.
"Well, still, I guess after something like this, I'm not taking you home today."
Helen shook her head, and felt more not-quite pain down her shoulder and arm, becoming acutely aware of how interconnected the parts of her body were.
"They say if it looks good tomorrow, the next day would be possible."
Troy looked at her cautiously.
"You didn't do anything foolish to make them put a rush on that decision, did you?"
She almost nodded "no" again, before remembering how it felt before, and met his look instead.
"No. If I was doing The Thing to the doctors, I'd be smoking by now. Some of the care team will be staying at the castle to give me round-the-clock care; I imagine, until I start charging them for their stay." Helen changed the subject. "So, where's Susan?"
"At the marketplace. We didn't really have time to pack, so she needed clothes. Should've known better than 'We'll just stop for a couple of hours.' Stavro's looking after her while Maria's busy."
"Well, that's why I left the money."
"Oh, she didn't take it. I've been investing for her too, so as long as Stavro can keep her from spending too long at the Armani shop, she'll have no problems. She's been concerned that accepting the passport makes her one of your 'subjects' now."
Helen smiled at the thought.
"No more so than you or Julie would be. She won't get drafted."
Helen could tell from the look on Troy's face that the conversation was about to shift gears.
"Helen, someone tried to kill you. I told the Generalissimo I wouldn't ask him about it, or make him tell me. I wasn't going to ask at all but he said you were concerned by it, and you said it was what all this was about: Springheel."
Helen's eyes widened at his use of the word. Troy sensed that it had affected her and tried to calm her down.
"Hey, hey, it's just a word you said while you were delirious. Only him, Julie, and I heard it. He already knows, and Julie thinks you were rambling about this season's new shoe line. You know, 'spring heels.'"
"Troilus," Helen said, trying to sit up as best she could without hurting herself. "I need you to let this go. For me, please. I know he's your hero, but don't try to be James Bond."
"Julie DID give me her dad's Walther PPK for an anniversary. Not the wedding, another."
Troy saw by the look in Helen's eyes that the joke wasn't working.
"Seriously, Troy, I can't tell you what it's about, it's classified to the highest levels for a reason. At least one person, that I know of, has already died over it. It's what the assassin was sent after me about, and why whoever's behind this planted the bomb."
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