Fantasy So Night Follows Day by TMaskedWriter

[Ramesh_Rocky]

So Night Follows Day Pt. 26

By T. Masked Writer with Special Guest Author Susan Bailey.

*****

"Leroy says there's something you should know:
Not everybody has a place to go.
And home is just a place to hang your head.
And dream of things to do in Denver when you're dead."
-Warren Zevon, "Things to do in Denver When You're Dead"

Morning, Susan here. Well, afternoon. We all stayed up late, and Helen didn't get in until 7 AM-ish. We settled for a late bacon, eggs, & what was going to be toast before an Ultimado ran a plate of croissants out of the oven across the street to us for breakfast. Helen settled for two of the croissants. She also sent Velasquez to bring her some clean clothes and take care of the outfit she'd been wearing when she came home. (I didn't notice it in the dark, but apparently, "Why did you come home with blood that's almost certainly Leonard Whyte's on your clothes" is another "Question We Don't Ask Helen.")

"Sorry," She told us, accepting the coffee with hazelnut creamer to go with them. "I ordered room service after you guys left. Sorta did breakfast early this morning." I didn't have much either, leaving the two of us alone at the table, looking through the breakfast nook with the television off to one side, while Julie and Troy took care of dishes.

Julie started handing the breakfast dishes to Troy after passing them under the sink, and he'd check them to see if they needed extra work to get stuff off, or if they were dishwasher-ready. Rejects would be set on the prep table for further scrubbing afterward, and the others got efficiently loaded into the dishwasher. Troy extended his left hand, reaching past his field of vision to grab the dish that Julie had been holding just outside her own. It reminded me of the dishwashers at the diner, when we got some who'd stick around long enough to build up any kind of rapport, doing moves like that.

I think that's why I like watching Troy and Julie do kitchen stuff together. (Apart from the fact that it means that it's not my day to do it.) Because watching them set the table for dinner was the first thing I ever saw the two of them do as a couple. After the thought "robots" left my head, the one after it was "This is what two people who know and trust each other completely look like when they're working on a problem together."

Helen was still sipping her coffee, too. She'd also been watching them. And from the look on her face, thinking about them; like I'd just been, and imagine the same look was on my face. It seemed like she wanted to share her thought, so I let her.

"Do you know how I know that 'evil mind controller' Troy's always worrying about isn't out there, Susan?"

I did not. And if she had an answer, I certainly wanted to hear it.

"No, I don't. How?"

We sipped our coffee together. Helen took a drag of her cigarette. By now, it was just something that's a part of Helen. She used it to gesture subtly into the kitchen.

"Look at who found it. An artist and a mathematician; emotion and reason working in perfect harmony, love, and trust. No egos, no ulterior motives; no agenda other than 'I really wanna learn how to do this cool thing with my best friend and fellow oblivious soulmate.'"

Julie gave no response to that. She was at the sink, and it was running.

"Fucker like Whyte couldn't have found it." I agreed.

"No, or he would have. So would a couple dozen pricks who thought 'those other guys who've tried to take La Contessa down just weren't man enough, unlike me.' But nope, two kids, obsessively reading library books, comics, and books they ordered from ads inside those comics, figured it out."

Troy closed the dishwasher. He spun around to kiss Julie. She turned and kissed him, then grabbed the "need a little more" stack off the table while he started the washer. She then stepped to the left sink, and Troy slid into her former position on the right side to help with those.

"And that," Helen said, pointing with the cigarette again. "Is how I know that 'evil mind controller who might be out there' isn't. As for Troy's Men in Black/Area 51 thing, I know that's bullshit, because I've asked the right people, and I've been there."

My eyes widened. I'm sure all the ladies in my head's eyes widened too.

"What's in Area 51?" I asked. I was, after all, cleared to know this stuff now. At least in San Finzione. "I'll go live in San Finzione to know this!"

Helen leaned in closer.

"Nothing. It's a diversion. The good stuff's all hidden around Areas 1-50. But nobody even asks about them, because they're all too busy staring at 51 and waiting for the next laser show."

I smiled. She gave me one of those "Am I joking? Best answer you're getting, anyway." looks. I accepted it.

"All right, then. Well, when's the Auction?"

"Midnight." She replied. "We got the time and town to be in, We'll get the actual location two hours prior. Enough time for everyone to make sure we're not being followed and get there. There's usually a little cocktail thing before we get down to business; let the ones who 'need to' be fashionably late."