Title: Super-muffin!
Author: FawkesGirl
Rating: PG
Genre: Humour
Spoilers: References that are more amusing if you've seen the Pilot, 'The Choice' and 'Exposed'
Timeline: Between Exposed and Enemy of my Enemy
Summary: Fawkes and Hobbes try to have a weekend off together, but Arnaud interrupts.
Author's Note: I've never written an I-Man story before, so go easy on the rock throwing and stuff. I thought it was fun.
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Socrates once said that ''To prefer evil to good is not in human nature; and when a man is compelled to choose one of two evils, no one will choose the greater when he may have the less.'' Well, he hadn't met the Official.
"For the last time Hobbes, it's not in the budget." The Official slammed the folder closed.
"Sir, she at least needs at 200,000 mile tune-up."
"And some non-freaking-recycled bullets would be nice too." Darien commented sarcastically.
"Do you have any idea how much this operation costs to run?" The Official leaned over the desk. "I don't think any of you can count that high."
"Actually sir."
"Eberts."
"Shutting up sir."
"Ok, well this is nice and all, a little comparing numbers party, but what happens when-"
"Golda breaks down, and Fawkes has got a pretty bad headache, you know what I mean? That would not be a good thing, my friend."
"Actually, I was talking about the recycled bullets and me getting shot, but that could work too."
"Yes sir, you could lose the gland in an instance like that." Claire piped up from the back.
Fawkes jumped up, clapped, and gestured widely to Claire. "There, see? You wouldn't like that now, would you? No, no, I didn't think so."
All three faces looked at the Official pointedly, with Darien attempting a subtle pout for effect.
"Alright, I'll consider it. But you have to be ready to lose other things to accommodate." The Official's eyes narrowed pointedly.
"Yes sir! Thank you sir, I really appreciate it sir, you have no idea." Hobbes was cut off as Darien dragged him out of the office.
"Hey, hey, hey, no need to kiss his feet there pal."
Hobbes sniffed, "I was not kissing his feet partner, Bobby Hobbes does not kiss feet."
"Yeah, sure, whatever. Now, are you ready to go, or do you want to get stuck with more work? I hear Eberts needs an assistant again."
"I say we go and get some pizza my friend, we need to celebrate!"
"Ok, fine, but you know, I just need to make a little stop first, if you know what I mean, hmm?" Darien pulled away the wrist of his shirt to reveal seven red segments on his tattoo.
The two went speedily down to the Keep, hoping to get in and out as quickly and painlessly as possible.
"Hello Darien, what took you so long?" Claire said cheerily as she picked up the syringe that was on the table, and sat near 'the chair'.
Darien looked puzzled, and turned to look at the door, then back at Claire, then back at the door again. "Um, weren't you talking to the Fat Man after we left?"
"Yes, yes I was, why?"
"No reason Claire, just give my partner his shot so we can blow this Popsicle stand, ok? Please." Bobby sat in a chair by the door and tapped his feet impatiently.
Darien waved him off, "Yeah, uh, don't mind him Keep, he thinks he's actually getting the funding he wanted."
"I am, just you wait my friend; Bobby Hobbes has won this round." Bobby crossed his arms around his chest, and nodded sharply to accent his statement.
"Yeah, whatever--Oww, hey!" Claire pulled out the needle and put a cotton ball over it, folding Darien's arm up towards him. "There you go, have a good time. Oh, and only quicksilver when it's absolutely necessary. You don't have any assignments, so I shouldn't have to tell you this. You don't want to become immune to the counteragent."
"Yes, Mom." Darien said snidely as he jumped out of the chair, grabbed his coat, and attempted to catch up with Bobby.
"Hey, hey, whoa, slow down there kemosabe. I thought I was invited." "Don't you know anything about pizza joints? You've got to beat the tide kid." Bobby said as he slid into the driver's seat and turned on the engine, waiting impatiently for Darien to buckle up.
Ten minutes later, Golda pulled up in front of Pete's Pizzeria. "Alright Fawkes, you go in and order." Bobby motioned for him to get out.
"Why do I have to get the pizza Hobbesy?" Darien complained.
"Because I paid last time and you, my invisible buddy, get twice the bills I get. Capiche?"
Darien raised his hands in defeat, "Okay then, jeez, no need to give me the wrath of Bobby Hobbes here." His lean form gracefully hopped out of the van, and proceeded to quickly go forth and search for pizza. He walked into the little family business venture, and placed his order for a large meat pizza with a 2L Coke. Seeing a big man in a suit waiting in the corner reading a newspaper, he grinned and walked up. "Hey, Fat Man, I didn't even know you ate pizza! Where's Eberts?"
The man lowered the paper and glared at Darien menacingly. "Ah, crap. I thought you were someone else, sorry." Darien hastily sat down at the other side of the pizzeria.
"I ought to break your skinny little body in half; making fun of my weight?!" The man threw his paper down, and walked menacingly towards Darien.
"Honestly sir, I would never. I thought you were someone else. Really." Darien's accelerated heart rate caused tendrils of quicksilver to start flowing down his left arm, which he swiftly covered up with his jacket.
"Order up!" the man behind the counter yelled, and the big man stopped and looked. "You're lucky that's my order, punk." He then grabbed his food and stormed out.
Darien slumped in relief, and felt the quicksilver flake off in response. He sat and looked around aimlessly for a while whilst he waited, and then decided to check his tattoo. Damn. The being scared shitless had gotten him a red. Counteragent wasn't stretching as far nowadays. Oh well, he wasn't planning to get scared like that anymore before tomorrow morning. "Must make a note to tell Bobby that scary movies are a no-no tonight." He muttered to himself. "Two is up!" the man behind the counter yelled. Darien got up and carefully balanced the bottle of Coke on the pizza box as he quickly went back out to the van.
"Uh, Hobbes, a little help here?" he motioned with his head to the van door, and Bobby leaned over and opened it for him.
"What took you so long partner? Too much longer and I was going to come in with a gun and a honking big needle."
Darien ran his hand through his hair, "Well, there was a small mistake." he said not making eye contact.
"In the order? How do you mess up a meat pizza?"
"I don't know man, but if you don't drive, this pizza is gonna be cold."
Hobbes pulled out of the small parking lot and headed for his apartment.
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Darien wondered if his head could go any farther out the window. The ride from the pizzeria to Bobby's wasn't that long in context, but when you're in the same van. Apparently Bobby was very pleased about the Official considering paying for this century's safety inspection sticker.
"So, that, my friend, is how you get the Big Man to ease up. You've got to take your time, take it covertly."
Darien reluctantly pulled his head back inside the van, and turned his head sideways to look at Bobby. "Yeah, well if you're 'covertly' trying to get to your apartment, y'know, congratulations, because I don't think anybody has a clue that that's where we're going."
Darien swore that he'd seen that same blue house at least eight times. "Hey, what's the matter partner? You seem a little PO'ed." Hobbes turned to him looking concerned, but trying to keep an eye on the road as well.
"Sorry Hobbes, I'd just like some peace and quiet with no Official, no quicksilver, no assignments."
Hobbes pulled off and shifted into park. "In that case my friend, you're in for one helluva weekend." He hopped out of the van, grabbed the pizza and went into the building, leaving Fawkes almost sprinting behind him with the Coke, trying to get to the door before Hobbes tried to open it with the pizza in his hands. He'd tried it before, and it was never pretty.
"Ok, here we are." Darien said as he set the pizza on the table and slumped into the couch. "Here we are." Hobbes slumped down behind him and handed him a beer and a slice. "I've got some movies around here someplace, or we could watch Baywatch, which should be on in about 10."
"Sure." Darien waved his beer nonchalantly in the direction of the television.
"Well, what do you want to do then?!"
Darien chewed on his pizza thoughtfully, and found nothing. "Hmm. I have no idea. How about we go down to the pier or something?"
"Why didn't you say that when we were with Golda? She doesn't like being started up again so soon afterwards."
Darien decided to let the obvious innuendo joke fester, and shrugged, "Here's an idea. Walk."
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About a half an hour later, the dynamic duo was walking on the pier.
"Well, this is great, fresh air, fresh scenery." Hobbes over exaggerated.
Darien coughed as they passed a pile of fishing nets, "Fresh scents."
"Hey buddy, this was your idea." Hobbes pointed out.
"Do I hear a bit of taunting in there, Hobbesy?" he asked sardonically, before suddenly perking up, "Oooh, hey, look, a bar!"
"Well if you wanted to go to a bar, there's one about a block from my place." Bobby complained.
"Isn't that the one with the-?"
"Mm-hmm."
"Oh. Eww."
The bar was a dismal place, obviously only put there at a time when the traffic at the pier actually occurred. It reminded Darien of that pilot's bar he'd seen on an episode of The Simpsons. Hobbes went and pulled open the door, gesturing for Darien to enter. "After you."
Darien casually took account of his surroundings when he got inside. He noticed the distinct smell of old cigarette smoke, and how it clouded the dim light from various lamps all around.
He leaned over to Hobbes, "I think this party is strictly bring your own dead guy."
Darien wasn't too pleased at this new location, but knew once he got a few beers in Hobbes, he could high tail it out of there without damaging his pride. He even considered the fact that the smoke would give him away if he'd needed to quicksilver. Not good at all. He smiled wanly at Hobbes, and took a seat at the bar.
"Uh. a beer for me, please." The bartender slid a bottle down the table and Darien nodded in thanks, happy to have something else to put his mind on. Hobbes quickly ordered and did the same. It was hours later, after God knows how many beers that the two were stumbling back to Hobbes', finding hilarity in things that only two drunks could find the least bit amusing.
"I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts." Hobbes slurred.
"Dee, dee, dee, dee-dee." Fawkes giggled.
"There they are all.all."
".C-C-Cramming in the throw." Fawkes picked Hobbes up and miraculously got him to the door. Unfortunately, he didn't notice it was shut.
"Hooooooooobbes," he giggled, "your wall moved."
"Fawkes, that.." he coughed and just caught his balance, "d-did not happen. You. I. uh. Whoa."
Fawkes closed one eye and jabbed the key where he assumed the lock was until finally he got it in and spent another ten minutes figuring out which way to turn it.
He and Hobbes stumbled in and he attempted a nod of satisfaction, "Th- there." Fawkes enunciated before falling flat on his face. Hobbes successfully got to the couch, thought about bragging to Fawkes, and then descended into a drunken slumber.
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"Ohhhhhhhhhh." Darien groaned as he grabbed at his head. Unfortunately, he thought, this isn't oncoming madness. This is the illustrious plague to mankind known as the hangover. A shot ain't gonna help. He groaned again as he sat up and noticed to his dismay that it was daylight. He staggered to the bathroom, only to find it occupied. "Ugh." He heard the wonderful sound of shower water, smelled the fresh scent of shampoo and saw steam seeping under the door. He reluctantly pulled himself away and went back into the living room. Sleeping face down on the floor had created a few kinks. He grabbed a cushion, ran his hand through his hair one more time and snuggled down for a nap. No matter what he did, his head still throbbed. Just to be on the safe side, he checked his tattoo. The counteragent wasn't going as far nowadays, he had another red. I didn't quicksilver last night. right? As if on cue, Darien heard the bathroom door open and bare feet pad across the laminate floor.
"Hobbes?" Darien peered up over the top of the couch and restrained a laugh, "Uh, what's with the shower cap?"
Hobbes reddened and turned around to face Darien, wearing nothing but a towel and a pink shower cap. "Fawkes, I thought you'd have gone home."
"So that's where you keep it all." Darien said, smirking and staring at the hairs on Hobbes' chest.
"Hey! Watch it buddy, Bobby Hobbes doesn't take well to insults."
"Sorry," Darien mimicked having a cat in his arms and made his voice higher, "Mista Bond."
"You'd better watch it Kid." Hobbes muttered as he went to get dressed.
Darien immediately got up and went to the bathroom, wiped the steam off the mirror, and groaned. "Ugh." Darien ran his hands through his hair a few times to help stick it up the way he liked, and rummaged in the cupboard for a facecloth. He washed his face and his hands, and decided it was time for a mission to the kitchen to see if Hobbes possessed edible food.
"So partner, you ready to go?" Hobbes walked out of his room, adjusting the wrists of his shirt.
"I look and feel like I've been run over by a truck." Darien sniffed as he scouted the cupboards for food, finally deciding on a slice of last night's pizza.
"Well, I was thinking we could go over your place and get you some clothes that you haven't recently slept in." Hobbes sniped.
"Yeah," Darien mumbled in between bites of pizza, "sure."
Arriving at Darien's apartment, Hobbes was promptly told to get lost while Darien showered and considered an Aspirin overdose. Hobbes sat down on the couch, and stated very matter-of-factly that he: "Wasn't moving a frickin' inch." Darien, too tired and hung over to argue, took his shower, making sure Hobbes noted that he didn't have a pink shower cap.
"Ahhhhh." Darien sighed as he practically bounced out of his hot shower. Rejuvenated, fed, and now quite sharply dressed, he was ready to face the morning. Er, afternoon. He casually sauntered out into the living room, and was met with the melody of "I've got a Lovely Bunch of Coconuts".
"Whoa. Hobbesy, is that your cell phone?" Darien grinned devilishly. "I'd have guessed Keep, but never you."
Hobbes turned a dark shade of crimson as he searched for the offending piece of technology. "It was the 'William Tell Overture' yesterday."
Darien suddenly looked a little alarmed. "You don't think?"
"Yesterday? Nah." The two stood silently, the phone still ringing.
"Are you going to answer that??? I'll be singing about coconuts all day now."
Hobbes flipped open the phone, "Hobbes. Uh huh. But sir-. Uh huh. Uh huh. Okay, we'll be right there." Hobbes flipped the phone shut and looked for something to hit.
"So. What?"
"The Fat Man wants us at the beach, ten minutes ago. It seems there are some water skis riding some waves without any skiers."
"Invisible water skiers?" Darien raised an eyebrow. "Arnaud?"
"Arnaud. Let's go." Hobbes opened the door and ushered Darien out.
"Huh. I always figured Swiss Miss to be more of a boarder."
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"Grandpa! You're here!" Darien turned around and saw a little blond girl, maybe about 4 years old, chasing after them. He pulled off his sunglasses and crouched down to talk to her, "I'm not your grandpa sweetie." The little girl continued on past him, oblivious to his stopping. Darien hated it when he did that, responded to people who weren't talking to him in the first place. He shook his head, got up and turned back just in time to see the girl latch on to Hobbes. Oh no.
"Hey! What the-?" Hobbes looked down to find a pair of blue eyes latched onto his waist, intently staring up.
Darien cracked up. "Oh, no, no honey, ha-ha-ha, he's not your. your grandpa!" He surrendered to the cascades of laughter, a much more welcome thing knocking at the back of his brain, and fell to his knees in the sand. The little kid shrugged, not the least bit embarrassed, and ran off.
Darien somehow picked himself up and stumbled comically over to Hobbes, who was bright red. "Gee Hobbes, I don't think she thought you passed for Chrysalis either." He snorted, withholding his laughter and attempting to keep a straight face. Hobbes lifted his arm as if to backhand him, "Scram kid!"
"Lovely out for a day at the beach, isn't it?" a familiar accent from the water shouted.
"I don't know, I didn't think they had water-skiing at whatever university you're saying you went to this week." Darien called back.
"Well, you're no fun, so I think my friends and I, and our tiny bomb here will go somewhere else. A Sunday school perhaps. Ciao." Arnaud waved the little package in the air, and the boat took off across the harbour.
"Damn!" Hobbes yelled, and looked around for a suitable pursuing vehicle. "Fawkes! We need to find something to."
"How 'bout this?" Darien leaned on a hovercraft, whose owner was off for a second getting an ice cream.
Hobbes groaned inside, but got in anyway. They were losing time. The little hovercraft buzzed off into the horizon, with Mr. Kuhjy and his strawberry ice cream yelling and stomping angrily on the dock.
"Uh, here's a question," Fawkes started as he got the hang of the controls, "How do we know when we've caught up to Arnie? Look for skis?"
"We listen for a sickening thud and a Swiss accent pal."
The hovercraft was gaining on the boat fast, more than likely because Darien was sure they were over the water, not on it at this speed. Just then, they heard a familiar voice "Faster you imbeciles, they're going to run me over!"
"Heh heh heh heh." Fawkes quicksilvered his eyes and gazed intently at the form of Arnaud. A-not-extremely-pleased Arnaud at the look of it. His hands were waving at the driver of the boat in between many interesting and not 100% English forms of the phrase "Hurry up." Some of them were much more interesting than others.
"Fawkes."
"I see him, I see him."
At the last second, without warning to Hobbes, Darien sharply twisted the wheel and sent a tidal wave over Arnaud. Not even invisible 'Swiss Miss Muthers' were that good on water skis. Darien grinned as he watched Arnaud let go of the rope, and the boat keep going without him.
"IMBECILES!" Arnaud yelled in between coughing and sputtering.
"Arnie, did you forget to spring for thermals for your half-bit cronies?" Darien asked innocently.
Hobbes joined in, now that he could see Arnaud thanks to the water. "Aw, did the terrorist fall down? Tsk, tsk, well Arnaud De Freak, perhaps you can learn something from Bobby Hobbes!" Hobbes puffed out his chest somewhat inconspicuously, and made a move to step closer to the rim of the hovercraft.
"Uh, Hobbes, I don't think you should---" Darien reached out to stop him, but it was too late.
"No, thanks, really, I believe I've already made a fool of myself, less the help of you." Arnaud sniped.
Darien fought not to burst out laughing and cleared his throat, "Uh, which one of you should I help into the boat first?"
"Partner, you would actually help this.this.this!" Hobbes sputtered.
"No way Hobbesy, you know me better than that, doncha?" Darien extended a hand, and while keeping an eye on Arnaud, helped Hobbes into the boat. Then, after the embarrassed and complaining agent was safely in the centre of the hovercraft, he pulled Arnaud in. After everyone was settled, he double-checked his tattoo. He wasn't going to get his revenge now.
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"And then sir, we explained to the nice man why the Department of Fish and Game had to borrow his hovercraft to pursue a pair of skis minus a rider."
"All in all, it was a walk in the park, a day at the beach." Fawkes started.
"That's enough!" The Official bellowed, "Now we're going to have a man asking questions around here about his stolen hovercraft."
"Now Fish, I'm a thief, I know stolen. Stolen is, um, harsh. Borrowed. Yeah, I'm liking borrowed." The beady eyes from the other side of the desk narrowed. "Or stolen." Darien withdrew.
"Are we dismissed sir?" Hobbes cut in hopefully.
"Yes. But! I want you to take Fawkes down to see the Keeper before you leave."
"Yes sir. C'mon kid." Hobbes hastily headed for the door.
"Coming, Grandpa." Darien muttered cheekily.
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"Keeeeeeeeeeep, I need to get checked up so I can get out of here." Darien whined as he looked about for the evasive woman.
"Go away Darien!"
"What did I do?"
"Nothing, I'm just a bit busy right now. Come back later." Claire yelled as she slammed another desk drawer shut. "Bloody hell!"
"But Keep, I'm the Kept, and you're my Keeper. I'm your responsibility. What would you do if something happened to me?" Darien pouted as he walked further into the Keep.
"Come any closer and I'll throw something at you!" Claire warned.
"You wouldn't!" Darien said in a mocked shocked voice.
"It'll be flying Claire Air." Hobbes stated.
"It's a bird." Darien started.
"It's a plane." Hobbes added
Hobbes and Darien ducked as something came flying through the air at them. Darien looked behind him incredulously.
"It's. an english muffin?!"
The End
Rating: PG
Genre: Humour
Spoilers: References that are more amusing if you've seen the Pilot, 'The Choice' and 'Exposed'
Timeline: Between Exposed and Enemy of my Enemy
Summary: Fawkes and Hobbes try to have a weekend off together, but Arnaud interrupts.
Author's Note: I've never written an I-Man story before, so go easy on the rock throwing and stuff. I thought it was fun.
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Socrates once said that ''To prefer evil to good is not in human nature; and when a man is compelled to choose one of two evils, no one will choose the greater when he may have the less.'' Well, he hadn't met the Official.
"For the last time Hobbes, it's not in the budget." The Official slammed the folder closed.
"Sir, she at least needs at 200,000 mile tune-up."
"And some non-freaking-recycled bullets would be nice too." Darien commented sarcastically.
"Do you have any idea how much this operation costs to run?" The Official leaned over the desk. "I don't think any of you can count that high."
"Actually sir."
"Eberts."
"Shutting up sir."
"Ok, well this is nice and all, a little comparing numbers party, but what happens when-"
"Golda breaks down, and Fawkes has got a pretty bad headache, you know what I mean? That would not be a good thing, my friend."
"Actually, I was talking about the recycled bullets and me getting shot, but that could work too."
"Yes sir, you could lose the gland in an instance like that." Claire piped up from the back.
Fawkes jumped up, clapped, and gestured widely to Claire. "There, see? You wouldn't like that now, would you? No, no, I didn't think so."
All three faces looked at the Official pointedly, with Darien attempting a subtle pout for effect.
"Alright, I'll consider it. But you have to be ready to lose other things to accommodate." The Official's eyes narrowed pointedly.
"Yes sir! Thank you sir, I really appreciate it sir, you have no idea." Hobbes was cut off as Darien dragged him out of the office.
"Hey, hey, hey, no need to kiss his feet there pal."
Hobbes sniffed, "I was not kissing his feet partner, Bobby Hobbes does not kiss feet."
"Yeah, sure, whatever. Now, are you ready to go, or do you want to get stuck with more work? I hear Eberts needs an assistant again."
"I say we go and get some pizza my friend, we need to celebrate!"
"Ok, fine, but you know, I just need to make a little stop first, if you know what I mean, hmm?" Darien pulled away the wrist of his shirt to reveal seven red segments on his tattoo.
The two went speedily down to the Keep, hoping to get in and out as quickly and painlessly as possible.
"Hello Darien, what took you so long?" Claire said cheerily as she picked up the syringe that was on the table, and sat near 'the chair'.
Darien looked puzzled, and turned to look at the door, then back at Claire, then back at the door again. "Um, weren't you talking to the Fat Man after we left?"
"Yes, yes I was, why?"
"No reason Claire, just give my partner his shot so we can blow this Popsicle stand, ok? Please." Bobby sat in a chair by the door and tapped his feet impatiently.
Darien waved him off, "Yeah, uh, don't mind him Keep, he thinks he's actually getting the funding he wanted."
"I am, just you wait my friend; Bobby Hobbes has won this round." Bobby crossed his arms around his chest, and nodded sharply to accent his statement.
"Yeah, whatever--Oww, hey!" Claire pulled out the needle and put a cotton ball over it, folding Darien's arm up towards him. "There you go, have a good time. Oh, and only quicksilver when it's absolutely necessary. You don't have any assignments, so I shouldn't have to tell you this. You don't want to become immune to the counteragent."
"Yes, Mom." Darien said snidely as he jumped out of the chair, grabbed his coat, and attempted to catch up with Bobby.
"Hey, hey, whoa, slow down there kemosabe. I thought I was invited." "Don't you know anything about pizza joints? You've got to beat the tide kid." Bobby said as he slid into the driver's seat and turned on the engine, waiting impatiently for Darien to buckle up.
Ten minutes later, Golda pulled up in front of Pete's Pizzeria. "Alright Fawkes, you go in and order." Bobby motioned for him to get out.
"Why do I have to get the pizza Hobbesy?" Darien complained.
"Because I paid last time and you, my invisible buddy, get twice the bills I get. Capiche?"
Darien raised his hands in defeat, "Okay then, jeez, no need to give me the wrath of Bobby Hobbes here." His lean form gracefully hopped out of the van, and proceeded to quickly go forth and search for pizza. He walked into the little family business venture, and placed his order for a large meat pizza with a 2L Coke. Seeing a big man in a suit waiting in the corner reading a newspaper, he grinned and walked up. "Hey, Fat Man, I didn't even know you ate pizza! Where's Eberts?"
The man lowered the paper and glared at Darien menacingly. "Ah, crap. I thought you were someone else, sorry." Darien hastily sat down at the other side of the pizzeria.
"I ought to break your skinny little body in half; making fun of my weight?!" The man threw his paper down, and walked menacingly towards Darien.
"Honestly sir, I would never. I thought you were someone else. Really." Darien's accelerated heart rate caused tendrils of quicksilver to start flowing down his left arm, which he swiftly covered up with his jacket.
"Order up!" the man behind the counter yelled, and the big man stopped and looked. "You're lucky that's my order, punk." He then grabbed his food and stormed out.
Darien slumped in relief, and felt the quicksilver flake off in response. He sat and looked around aimlessly for a while whilst he waited, and then decided to check his tattoo. Damn. The being scared shitless had gotten him a red. Counteragent wasn't stretching as far nowadays. Oh well, he wasn't planning to get scared like that anymore before tomorrow morning. "Must make a note to tell Bobby that scary movies are a no-no tonight." He muttered to himself. "Two is up!" the man behind the counter yelled. Darien got up and carefully balanced the bottle of Coke on the pizza box as he quickly went back out to the van.
"Uh, Hobbes, a little help here?" he motioned with his head to the van door, and Bobby leaned over and opened it for him.
"What took you so long partner? Too much longer and I was going to come in with a gun and a honking big needle."
Darien ran his hand through his hair, "Well, there was a small mistake." he said not making eye contact.
"In the order? How do you mess up a meat pizza?"
"I don't know man, but if you don't drive, this pizza is gonna be cold."
Hobbes pulled out of the small parking lot and headed for his apartment.
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Darien wondered if his head could go any farther out the window. The ride from the pizzeria to Bobby's wasn't that long in context, but when you're in the same van. Apparently Bobby was very pleased about the Official considering paying for this century's safety inspection sticker.
"So, that, my friend, is how you get the Big Man to ease up. You've got to take your time, take it covertly."
Darien reluctantly pulled his head back inside the van, and turned his head sideways to look at Bobby. "Yeah, well if you're 'covertly' trying to get to your apartment, y'know, congratulations, because I don't think anybody has a clue that that's where we're going."
Darien swore that he'd seen that same blue house at least eight times. "Hey, what's the matter partner? You seem a little PO'ed." Hobbes turned to him looking concerned, but trying to keep an eye on the road as well.
"Sorry Hobbes, I'd just like some peace and quiet with no Official, no quicksilver, no assignments."
Hobbes pulled off and shifted into park. "In that case my friend, you're in for one helluva weekend." He hopped out of the van, grabbed the pizza and went into the building, leaving Fawkes almost sprinting behind him with the Coke, trying to get to the door before Hobbes tried to open it with the pizza in his hands. He'd tried it before, and it was never pretty.
"Ok, here we are." Darien said as he set the pizza on the table and slumped into the couch. "Here we are." Hobbes slumped down behind him and handed him a beer and a slice. "I've got some movies around here someplace, or we could watch Baywatch, which should be on in about 10."
"Sure." Darien waved his beer nonchalantly in the direction of the television.
"Well, what do you want to do then?!"
Darien chewed on his pizza thoughtfully, and found nothing. "Hmm. I have no idea. How about we go down to the pier or something?"
"Why didn't you say that when we were with Golda? She doesn't like being started up again so soon afterwards."
Darien decided to let the obvious innuendo joke fester, and shrugged, "Here's an idea. Walk."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
About a half an hour later, the dynamic duo was walking on the pier.
"Well, this is great, fresh air, fresh scenery." Hobbes over exaggerated.
Darien coughed as they passed a pile of fishing nets, "Fresh scents."
"Hey buddy, this was your idea." Hobbes pointed out.
"Do I hear a bit of taunting in there, Hobbesy?" he asked sardonically, before suddenly perking up, "Oooh, hey, look, a bar!"
"Well if you wanted to go to a bar, there's one about a block from my place." Bobby complained.
"Isn't that the one with the-?"
"Mm-hmm."
"Oh. Eww."
The bar was a dismal place, obviously only put there at a time when the traffic at the pier actually occurred. It reminded Darien of that pilot's bar he'd seen on an episode of The Simpsons. Hobbes went and pulled open the door, gesturing for Darien to enter. "After you."
Darien casually took account of his surroundings when he got inside. He noticed the distinct smell of old cigarette smoke, and how it clouded the dim light from various lamps all around.
He leaned over to Hobbes, "I think this party is strictly bring your own dead guy."
Darien wasn't too pleased at this new location, but knew once he got a few beers in Hobbes, he could high tail it out of there without damaging his pride. He even considered the fact that the smoke would give him away if he'd needed to quicksilver. Not good at all. He smiled wanly at Hobbes, and took a seat at the bar.
"Uh. a beer for me, please." The bartender slid a bottle down the table and Darien nodded in thanks, happy to have something else to put his mind on. Hobbes quickly ordered and did the same. It was hours later, after God knows how many beers that the two were stumbling back to Hobbes', finding hilarity in things that only two drunks could find the least bit amusing.
"I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts." Hobbes slurred.
"Dee, dee, dee, dee-dee." Fawkes giggled.
"There they are all.all."
".C-C-Cramming in the throw." Fawkes picked Hobbes up and miraculously got him to the door. Unfortunately, he didn't notice it was shut.
"Hooooooooobbes," he giggled, "your wall moved."
"Fawkes, that.." he coughed and just caught his balance, "d-did not happen. You. I. uh. Whoa."
Fawkes closed one eye and jabbed the key where he assumed the lock was until finally he got it in and spent another ten minutes figuring out which way to turn it.
He and Hobbes stumbled in and he attempted a nod of satisfaction, "Th- there." Fawkes enunciated before falling flat on his face. Hobbes successfully got to the couch, thought about bragging to Fawkes, and then descended into a drunken slumber.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Ohhhhhhhhhh." Darien groaned as he grabbed at his head. Unfortunately, he thought, this isn't oncoming madness. This is the illustrious plague to mankind known as the hangover. A shot ain't gonna help. He groaned again as he sat up and noticed to his dismay that it was daylight. He staggered to the bathroom, only to find it occupied. "Ugh." He heard the wonderful sound of shower water, smelled the fresh scent of shampoo and saw steam seeping under the door. He reluctantly pulled himself away and went back into the living room. Sleeping face down on the floor had created a few kinks. He grabbed a cushion, ran his hand through his hair one more time and snuggled down for a nap. No matter what he did, his head still throbbed. Just to be on the safe side, he checked his tattoo. The counteragent wasn't going as far nowadays, he had another red. I didn't quicksilver last night. right? As if on cue, Darien heard the bathroom door open and bare feet pad across the laminate floor.
"Hobbes?" Darien peered up over the top of the couch and restrained a laugh, "Uh, what's with the shower cap?"
Hobbes reddened and turned around to face Darien, wearing nothing but a towel and a pink shower cap. "Fawkes, I thought you'd have gone home."
"So that's where you keep it all." Darien said, smirking and staring at the hairs on Hobbes' chest.
"Hey! Watch it buddy, Bobby Hobbes doesn't take well to insults."
"Sorry," Darien mimicked having a cat in his arms and made his voice higher, "Mista Bond."
"You'd better watch it Kid." Hobbes muttered as he went to get dressed.
Darien immediately got up and went to the bathroom, wiped the steam off the mirror, and groaned. "Ugh." Darien ran his hands through his hair a few times to help stick it up the way he liked, and rummaged in the cupboard for a facecloth. He washed his face and his hands, and decided it was time for a mission to the kitchen to see if Hobbes possessed edible food.
"So partner, you ready to go?" Hobbes walked out of his room, adjusting the wrists of his shirt.
"I look and feel like I've been run over by a truck." Darien sniffed as he scouted the cupboards for food, finally deciding on a slice of last night's pizza.
"Well, I was thinking we could go over your place and get you some clothes that you haven't recently slept in." Hobbes sniped.
"Yeah," Darien mumbled in between bites of pizza, "sure."
Arriving at Darien's apartment, Hobbes was promptly told to get lost while Darien showered and considered an Aspirin overdose. Hobbes sat down on the couch, and stated very matter-of-factly that he: "Wasn't moving a frickin' inch." Darien, too tired and hung over to argue, took his shower, making sure Hobbes noted that he didn't have a pink shower cap.
"Ahhhhh." Darien sighed as he practically bounced out of his hot shower. Rejuvenated, fed, and now quite sharply dressed, he was ready to face the morning. Er, afternoon. He casually sauntered out into the living room, and was met with the melody of "I've got a Lovely Bunch of Coconuts".
"Whoa. Hobbesy, is that your cell phone?" Darien grinned devilishly. "I'd have guessed Keep, but never you."
Hobbes turned a dark shade of crimson as he searched for the offending piece of technology. "It was the 'William Tell Overture' yesterday."
Darien suddenly looked a little alarmed. "You don't think?"
"Yesterday? Nah." The two stood silently, the phone still ringing.
"Are you going to answer that??? I'll be singing about coconuts all day now."
Hobbes flipped open the phone, "Hobbes. Uh huh. But sir-. Uh huh. Uh huh. Okay, we'll be right there." Hobbes flipped the phone shut and looked for something to hit.
"So. What?"
"The Fat Man wants us at the beach, ten minutes ago. It seems there are some water skis riding some waves without any skiers."
"Invisible water skiers?" Darien raised an eyebrow. "Arnaud?"
"Arnaud. Let's go." Hobbes opened the door and ushered Darien out.
"Huh. I always figured Swiss Miss to be more of a boarder."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Grandpa! You're here!" Darien turned around and saw a little blond girl, maybe about 4 years old, chasing after them. He pulled off his sunglasses and crouched down to talk to her, "I'm not your grandpa sweetie." The little girl continued on past him, oblivious to his stopping. Darien hated it when he did that, responded to people who weren't talking to him in the first place. He shook his head, got up and turned back just in time to see the girl latch on to Hobbes. Oh no.
"Hey! What the-?" Hobbes looked down to find a pair of blue eyes latched onto his waist, intently staring up.
Darien cracked up. "Oh, no, no honey, ha-ha-ha, he's not your. your grandpa!" He surrendered to the cascades of laughter, a much more welcome thing knocking at the back of his brain, and fell to his knees in the sand. The little kid shrugged, not the least bit embarrassed, and ran off.
Darien somehow picked himself up and stumbled comically over to Hobbes, who was bright red. "Gee Hobbes, I don't think she thought you passed for Chrysalis either." He snorted, withholding his laughter and attempting to keep a straight face. Hobbes lifted his arm as if to backhand him, "Scram kid!"
"Lovely out for a day at the beach, isn't it?" a familiar accent from the water shouted.
"I don't know, I didn't think they had water-skiing at whatever university you're saying you went to this week." Darien called back.
"Well, you're no fun, so I think my friends and I, and our tiny bomb here will go somewhere else. A Sunday school perhaps. Ciao." Arnaud waved the little package in the air, and the boat took off across the harbour.
"Damn!" Hobbes yelled, and looked around for a suitable pursuing vehicle. "Fawkes! We need to find something to."
"How 'bout this?" Darien leaned on a hovercraft, whose owner was off for a second getting an ice cream.
Hobbes groaned inside, but got in anyway. They were losing time. The little hovercraft buzzed off into the horizon, with Mr. Kuhjy and his strawberry ice cream yelling and stomping angrily on the dock.
"Uh, here's a question," Fawkes started as he got the hang of the controls, "How do we know when we've caught up to Arnie? Look for skis?"
"We listen for a sickening thud and a Swiss accent pal."
The hovercraft was gaining on the boat fast, more than likely because Darien was sure they were over the water, not on it at this speed. Just then, they heard a familiar voice "Faster you imbeciles, they're going to run me over!"
"Heh heh heh heh." Fawkes quicksilvered his eyes and gazed intently at the form of Arnaud. A-not-extremely-pleased Arnaud at the look of it. His hands were waving at the driver of the boat in between many interesting and not 100% English forms of the phrase "Hurry up." Some of them were much more interesting than others.
"Fawkes."
"I see him, I see him."
At the last second, without warning to Hobbes, Darien sharply twisted the wheel and sent a tidal wave over Arnaud. Not even invisible 'Swiss Miss Muthers' were that good on water skis. Darien grinned as he watched Arnaud let go of the rope, and the boat keep going without him.
"IMBECILES!" Arnaud yelled in between coughing and sputtering.
"Arnie, did you forget to spring for thermals for your half-bit cronies?" Darien asked innocently.
Hobbes joined in, now that he could see Arnaud thanks to the water. "Aw, did the terrorist fall down? Tsk, tsk, well Arnaud De Freak, perhaps you can learn something from Bobby Hobbes!" Hobbes puffed out his chest somewhat inconspicuously, and made a move to step closer to the rim of the hovercraft.
"Uh, Hobbes, I don't think you should---" Darien reached out to stop him, but it was too late.
"No, thanks, really, I believe I've already made a fool of myself, less the help of you." Arnaud sniped.
Darien fought not to burst out laughing and cleared his throat, "Uh, which one of you should I help into the boat first?"
"Partner, you would actually help this.this.this!" Hobbes sputtered.
"No way Hobbesy, you know me better than that, doncha?" Darien extended a hand, and while keeping an eye on Arnaud, helped Hobbes into the boat. Then, after the embarrassed and complaining agent was safely in the centre of the hovercraft, he pulled Arnaud in. After everyone was settled, he double-checked his tattoo. He wasn't going to get his revenge now.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"And then sir, we explained to the nice man why the Department of Fish and Game had to borrow his hovercraft to pursue a pair of skis minus a rider."
"All in all, it was a walk in the park, a day at the beach." Fawkes started.
"That's enough!" The Official bellowed, "Now we're going to have a man asking questions around here about his stolen hovercraft."
"Now Fish, I'm a thief, I know stolen. Stolen is, um, harsh. Borrowed. Yeah, I'm liking borrowed." The beady eyes from the other side of the desk narrowed. "Or stolen." Darien withdrew.
"Are we dismissed sir?" Hobbes cut in hopefully.
"Yes. But! I want you to take Fawkes down to see the Keeper before you leave."
"Yes sir. C'mon kid." Hobbes hastily headed for the door.
"Coming, Grandpa." Darien muttered cheekily.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Keeeeeeeeeeep, I need to get checked up so I can get out of here." Darien whined as he looked about for the evasive woman.
"Go away Darien!"
"What did I do?"
"Nothing, I'm just a bit busy right now. Come back later." Claire yelled as she slammed another desk drawer shut. "Bloody hell!"
"But Keep, I'm the Kept, and you're my Keeper. I'm your responsibility. What would you do if something happened to me?" Darien pouted as he walked further into the Keep.
"Come any closer and I'll throw something at you!" Claire warned.
"You wouldn't!" Darien said in a mocked shocked voice.
"It'll be flying Claire Air." Hobbes stated.
"It's a bird." Darien started.
"It's a plane." Hobbes added
Hobbes and Darien ducked as something came flying through the air at them. Darien looked behind him incredulously.
"It's. an english muffin?!"
The End