CHAPTER 1: UNCLE LANCE

Note: Well I hung on almost 2 weeks before I couldn't any longer. I STILL want to hold out for that profile… but if I throw a development story in before that profile is unleashed it can't hurt… as long as I keep my options open carefully… So this is the 3rd story and comes after Best Served Cold and Worse Than Death. DON'T READ THIS IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THOSE it will make no sense.

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Callie swirled a hand around in the water glass before her, releasing a deep sigh. "So, now I understand what has happened between the four of you before you found me, that is helpful." She adjusted the hood of her cloak, addressing the sixth person at the diner table. "I would hope that this information is not an alarm to you but given human propensity toward alarm I suppose you are on the verge of running away screaming."

The short, round man raised a bushy eyebrow, snorting. "Girlie don't know me too well, does she kiddo?" He took a swig of coffee from his mug, grimacing.

"Well no Uncle Lance, but even I wasn't sure you'd believe all this…" Arthur ran a hand through his hair. "Sometimes it's hard for me to believe it, and I was there."

Lance shrugged, scratching his beard. "Look Girlie, when you've wrestled two ice cream cones and a toilet demon for the King of Trios championship alongside a frog and a tree, ya come out the other side ready to accept a lot more." He shrugged again. "Just roll with the punches. 'Sides, what am I gonna do, disb'lieve my own eyes? Lewis put his arm through the table, Mystery's sittin' there like a proper Brittish gentleman sippin' tea, and that arm there's see through 'till you put it in your water there and I can't see it at all."

Callie retracted her hand from the glass, tucking it back into the waterproof cloak Arthur had found for her. She'd nearly perfected her movement with the garment. For the illusion of standing or walking, she hovered at the perfect height for the cloak to stay in contact with the ground, hiding her lack of humanoid form. For sitting, she hovered slightly lower, allowing the cloak to fold over the seat. Vivi had added stuffing to the inside backing of the cloak so it didn't lie so disturbingly flat when she did this. But she still often reached out, touching objects she didn't understand like parking meters or DVDs or electrical outlets, often with disastrous results.

"So, Kiddo. You need a place to stay 'til you all get back on your feet. Can do, but it'll be cramped. I got one extra room at my place, a couch in the living room, and a back room in the mechanic shop."

"I can take the back room at the shop." Arthur's face lit up. "Can I use the tools and scrap?"

Lance grinned, tugging at his mustache. "Sure kiddo. Use whatever you want. You start work as soon as you make your new prosthetic. You're talented, but I won't get good work outta you with one arm. I can float you a loan if you need dough for special parts."

"Thanks Uncle Lance." Arthur beamed. "If we can get just a few parts, I'll be working by the end of the week for sure!"

"Right. And you," he turned to Vivi. "Heard you need a job too. Guessin' you're no greasemonkey, but Artie said you're fond'a books." He jerked his head toward the window. "Shop down the street, just had their full-time help run off to Hollywood to join a Broadway play, or some crazy plan. Owner's real particular with who gets to work there, show 'em you know your books and you might just get the gig."

"That sounds fantastic!" Vivi stifled a cheer. "Oh gosh, I can't wait to get started, I just know I'll get the job, what's the place called?"

"Tome Tomb bookshop. Just tell 'em Lance sent ya." He paused. "Better not, just say you came to town lookin' for a quiet place with a quiet job. Guessin' if Artie's got the workshop you're gettin' the room."

"Her and Lewis, yeah, they can have the room." Arthur sipped his water. Lewis had barely left Vivi's side since she'd returned to herself, and only if he was assured she was in the company of one other person in the group.

"And you?" Lance leaned back, glancing at Mystery.

"I'll stay with Arthur in the workshop." He set his tea down. "You needn't mind about the space. A dog doesn't take up much room. I'll be mindful who's around if I need to become human to speak, and I would dearly hope I don't need to resume my larger form anytime soon. It would be good for all of us if we didn't have to adventure for a bit."

"I always got a weird feeling about you." Lance shook his head. "Bro thought I was crazy."

"I know." Mystery rolled his eyes. "You were always rather perceptive in comparison to your brother. But he continued his line, and you chose not to."

Lance shook his head. "This whole King Arthur biz, kiddo…"

Arthur shrugged helplessly. "I know… I know."

"Well that leaves miss, ah… Callie?"

"I stay with Arthur." Her voice was soft. "My anchor is his, and I am at his command."

An awkward silence settled over the table. Vivi broke it, turning to Callie. "Hey Callie, I bet when I get the job at the bookstore you can visit me. When I get the job, I wanna see you in the bookstore, okay?"

"Whatever for?" Callie asked.

"Cause you got a lotta catching up to do, and we'll have books on just about everything! And if we don't have 'em, I'll make sure they're on order."

"The paper will get wet." Callie pointed out.

"Don't worry, I'll figure out a work-around." Vivi beamed. "Sounds like we've got a working plan. Maybe we can find a place in a couple of months, sooner if we get a couple paying ghost-busts."

"If Callie visits the bookstore, I can search the area, see who's haunting." Lewis offered.

"Sounds like you kids got a plan." Lance stretched. "Lewis, sorry you died. Seemed like a nice enough kid from Artie's letters. Nice to get to meet ya finally. Vivi, I'll take ya over to the house to get settled, but then I gotta get back to work. I'll show ya over to Tome Tombs tomorrow. Callie, good to meetcha. Don't touch any electrical bits at the shop. So don't touch most of the stuff you see. Mystery, sorry for the times I pulled your tail."

"About time." Mystery muttered.

"Artie, get yerself back in the shop. You've got a prosthetic to make."