Title: La Case aux Follies (1) See footnotes section
Status: Complete
Author: Betsy (aka AnitaLife, because honest to god, I really need a life!)
E-me: betsybird27@hotmail.com
Feedback: Sure.
Disclaimers: So sue me. No! Don't. This is just some wandering musings. I mean no harm. To paraphrase another fic writer: These aren't my characters. I just take 'em off the shelf and play with them once in awhile. The Invisible Man is the property of Stu Segall Productions.
Rating: PG-13. Some adult situations. Some language. Depiction of Gay nightlife and transvestites.
Archive: Sure; just let me know where it ends up so I can get you the most recent version.
Spoilers: None that I'm aware of.
Music: It's Raining Men by The Weathergirls
Synopsis: Hobbes and Fawkes follow a lead to Arnaud into a Gay Gentleman's club. As they begin their snooping (er.investigating), Hobbes finds himself in the arms of Madame Zaza, an exquisitely beautiful crystal ball and tarot reading medium who owns the club and Fawkes finds himself in the arms of big trouble. A Lunatic Plot Contrivance (1a) occurs and our boys are on a collision course with wackiness.
************************
An ancient Chinese proverb says that "A good friendship is often more important than a passionate romance." Well, actually it was from a fortune cookie I swiped last night from Hobbes' take-out. (2)
Fawkes sat grim faced on the office floor in a sea of stacked papers and manila folders. His mission, whether he wanted to accept it or not, was to organize every piece of paper and correctly place them into one of the monolithic metal cabinets that lined the room. Hobbes sat about 6 feet away concentrating on the sheaves of papers in his hands.
"Fawkes? You see the 0610 Stroke 9 form that goes with the Melinsky file?
"Fawkes?
"FAWKES?"
Darien started from his misery. "What?" he snapped.
"I said, do you see that 0610 Stroke 9 report form.. Ah nuts! What's wrong with you THIS time?"
"Nothing." Darien pouted.
"Nothing's wrong?"
"No. Nothing."
"Because it doesn't look like nothing's wrong. It looks like something's wrong because when something's not wrong that is, when nothing's wrong, I can at least ask my partner a simple question and get a simple answer WITHOUT SHOUTING!"
"OK!!!" But, Darien just sat and sulked. But, as he pushed a few folders around without aim he could feel Hobbes staring at him with that disgusted cat look that said more than his words ever could.
"OK." He relented. "It's just that I can't believe the Fat Man has us sitting here in this, this hole, shuffling papers around this room. What happened last week wasn't my fault or yours for that matter. It's just what happened! You know; sometimes things just.just explode! Ka-Boom! I don't see why either one of us has to be punished!"
"Fawkes, is that what you think this is? Detention? Geez Louise! Sometimes you really ARE as dumb as you look!"
This pronouncement didn't help Darien's mood. He smirked at Hobbes. "Ha, ha and ha." he replied as sarcastically as possible.
"Let me tell you something, my friend. Any day I don't have to spend out there trying to keep your transparent butt in one piece or a day when I don't have to worry about both of us getting shot at or worst is like a vacation!"
"But you LOVE getting shot at or worst!" Darien attempted.
"True. But, it's always nice to have a little break.
"Darien, we aren't being punished! We're just doing some agency scutwork and resting up for the next mission."
"Whatever."
"Now, do you have ANY part of the Melinsky file? Ya know, the less sulking you do, the faster we can finish up and go home. Eberts' head is gonna explode if he sees this mess."
Darien made a disheartened effort to concentrate on the evil little pieces of paper. "17 Million Dollar File Clerk." he muttered.
Eberts chose that moment to attempt to enter the room. His eyes widened at the disarray splattered out before him.
"Hey, Ebs, how's it going?" asked Darien.
"The Official would like to speak to you both." Eberts stated through his grimace. He KNEW he would have a mop up job when Thing One and Thing Two were "finished" with the files, but this was even worst than he could ever imagine.
Darien wasted no time unfolding his lanky body and bolting for the door like Marmaduke being called for dog chow. Hobbes attempted to gather papers, but Eberts stopped him with "No no! You're needed." He put an arm on the kneeling agent's shoulder. "Urgently. Please. Just go." his voice caught in his throat.
Hobbes controlled a little smile and tried to look apologetic.
"No. Please, Mr. Hobbes. Go...Now."
Eberts looked over the room with the distraught air of a General surveying the carnage of a lost battle. He straightened his tie and closed the door, leaving the disaster until after the mission briefing.
Status: Complete
Author: Betsy (aka AnitaLife, because honest to god, I really need a life!)
E-me: betsybird27@hotmail.com
Feedback: Sure.
Disclaimers: So sue me. No! Don't. This is just some wandering musings. I mean no harm. To paraphrase another fic writer: These aren't my characters. I just take 'em off the shelf and play with them once in awhile. The Invisible Man is the property of Stu Segall Productions.
Rating: PG-13. Some adult situations. Some language. Depiction of Gay nightlife and transvestites.
Archive: Sure; just let me know where it ends up so I can get you the most recent version.
Spoilers: None that I'm aware of.
Music: It's Raining Men by The Weathergirls
Synopsis: Hobbes and Fawkes follow a lead to Arnaud into a Gay Gentleman's club. As they begin their snooping (er.investigating), Hobbes finds himself in the arms of Madame Zaza, an exquisitely beautiful crystal ball and tarot reading medium who owns the club and Fawkes finds himself in the arms of big trouble. A Lunatic Plot Contrivance (1a) occurs and our boys are on a collision course with wackiness.
************************
An ancient Chinese proverb says that "A good friendship is often more important than a passionate romance." Well, actually it was from a fortune cookie I swiped last night from Hobbes' take-out. (2)
Fawkes sat grim faced on the office floor in a sea of stacked papers and manila folders. His mission, whether he wanted to accept it or not, was to organize every piece of paper and correctly place them into one of the monolithic metal cabinets that lined the room. Hobbes sat about 6 feet away concentrating on the sheaves of papers in his hands.
"Fawkes? You see the 0610 Stroke 9 form that goes with the Melinsky file?
"Fawkes?
"FAWKES?"
Darien started from his misery. "What?" he snapped.
"I said, do you see that 0610 Stroke 9 report form.. Ah nuts! What's wrong with you THIS time?"
"Nothing." Darien pouted.
"Nothing's wrong?"
"No. Nothing."
"Because it doesn't look like nothing's wrong. It looks like something's wrong because when something's not wrong that is, when nothing's wrong, I can at least ask my partner a simple question and get a simple answer WITHOUT SHOUTING!"
"OK!!!" But, Darien just sat and sulked. But, as he pushed a few folders around without aim he could feel Hobbes staring at him with that disgusted cat look that said more than his words ever could.
"OK." He relented. "It's just that I can't believe the Fat Man has us sitting here in this, this hole, shuffling papers around this room. What happened last week wasn't my fault or yours for that matter. It's just what happened! You know; sometimes things just.just explode! Ka-Boom! I don't see why either one of us has to be punished!"
"Fawkes, is that what you think this is? Detention? Geez Louise! Sometimes you really ARE as dumb as you look!"
This pronouncement didn't help Darien's mood. He smirked at Hobbes. "Ha, ha and ha." he replied as sarcastically as possible.
"Let me tell you something, my friend. Any day I don't have to spend out there trying to keep your transparent butt in one piece or a day when I don't have to worry about both of us getting shot at or worst is like a vacation!"
"But you LOVE getting shot at or worst!" Darien attempted.
"True. But, it's always nice to have a little break.
"Darien, we aren't being punished! We're just doing some agency scutwork and resting up for the next mission."
"Whatever."
"Now, do you have ANY part of the Melinsky file? Ya know, the less sulking you do, the faster we can finish up and go home. Eberts' head is gonna explode if he sees this mess."
Darien made a disheartened effort to concentrate on the evil little pieces of paper. "17 Million Dollar File Clerk." he muttered.
Eberts chose that moment to attempt to enter the room. His eyes widened at the disarray splattered out before him.
"Hey, Ebs, how's it going?" asked Darien.
"The Official would like to speak to you both." Eberts stated through his grimace. He KNEW he would have a mop up job when Thing One and Thing Two were "finished" with the files, but this was even worst than he could ever imagine.
Darien wasted no time unfolding his lanky body and bolting for the door like Marmaduke being called for dog chow. Hobbes attempted to gather papers, but Eberts stopped him with "No no! You're needed." He put an arm on the kneeling agent's shoulder. "Urgently. Please. Just go." his voice caught in his throat.
Hobbes controlled a little smile and tried to look apologetic.
"No. Please, Mr. Hobbes. Go...Now."
Eberts looked over the room with the distraught air of a General surveying the carnage of a lost battle. He straightened his tie and closed the door, leaving the disaster until after the mission briefing.