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There were bandages. There were stitches. There would be scars.
Susan examined the thick plain of gauze that had replaced her palms. The wrappings left index to pinky compressed. Now as fused and fixed as a dolls with the exception of uselessly opposable thumbs. Running them across the bandages she imagined what the scarring would look like beneath. It was not that she was a vain woman, not at all. There was just something about having a permanent reminder of him that didn't sit well with her. Still vaguely irate with the humiliating ordeal.
It was the Gaiters who had insisted on a doctor, who in turn insisted she mummify her hands in the interest of a full recovery. She thought it a terrible impediment. A sentiment compounded when she found the dressings not only limited her ability to perform her duties, but they compelled the Gaiters to limit said duties.
If there was any silver lining behind the twin white puffed appendages it was that. The pity they inspired distracted the governess's employers and charges from their own recent terror.
The grownups had moved past the shady events of Hogswatch morning and mourned their maid in sprinting time. The children had made less progress, but were no longer concerned with the black eyed weirdo reappearing. Coping with the trauma in kind with their parents. In fact all traces of the cretinous twit were nearly gone. Aside from the obvious. Aside from her.
Even the incisions in her palms stung with indignation at the unspoken mention of their benefactor. Of course Susan soon realized the reignited pain came about from an unconscious attempt to clench her hands into fists.
Making her way to the scene of the crime her eyes gravitated to the center of the kitchen floor. Susan hoped that somehow her Grandfather managed to leave some kind of mark on him. She'd fantasize that his false got knocked from his head or perhaps he had cause for a pair now. Things she ought not be daydreaming about, but couldn't help it really.
She tore her gaze away, searching for any new point of interest in the now infamous room. Something to occupy her time with. Like knitting. Like reading. Like plotting revenge.
Like a grocery list.
Managing her way into her coat Susan was still uncertain about leaving the house unattended. Of course he couldn't possibly be daft enough to come back.
He couldn't possibly.
Full membership brought along a series of perks. Wearing black, higher pay, and a myriad of assignments. But along with them came a stricter adherence to a list of regulations. The most tedious of which had to be the required allotted reconnaissance. It seemed ludicrous to spend so much time with an assignment when the deed itself took up so little. Still, ever the professional he kept his watch on the window. Even as his mind was stationed somewhere else entirely.
He'd never been so off mark before. He'd many years of honing and invention towards his fatal faculties. It had taken none of them to swing that blade through Death's neck. Why the force should have lopped off that skull in one motion and left nothing behind but shoulders. Instead it went under one ear and out beneath the other. No severance to speak of. No ears for that matter. No meat whatsoever. He hadn't given much thought to the absence of vital bits. Of course without flesh all that was holding that head up was a spine post.
Death hadn't made for the definitive mark he'd so hoped he'd be. That anticlimacticism would have been disappointment enough atop his ill fated Tooth contract if he hadn't lost the sword as well.
Jonathan was left sorely empty handed. Of course the same could not be said for Susan. Now wasn't that a mood brightener. Perhaps there was a consolation prize there.
It was a far cry from standing at the edge of world dominion, but it made up some for being uppercut off that edge of world dominion.
Still it had taken some of the color out of his work. After targeting The Tooth Fairy, the Hogfather, and Death - masterminding the demise of a banker paled.
His eye scanned in familiarity from one corner of the mark's street to the other. As it had done for several passes. A single audience member lulled to boredom.
Predictably there was nothing of interest to see off to the left. That was always a safe bet regardless considering he could see nothing to the left at any given moment. Not until with a pivot of his head left became right and even still there was nothing over there that was terribly fascinating either. That was until coming back around right became left again, and then right once more. Which was suddenly so very terribly much to his interest as right was now Susan.
He began his approach on sight coming in at an odd angle just behind her peripheral.
The foilsome nanny had appeared at the end of the block. Had even been crossing over to his side of the street. He fell into step with her at a pace that threatened to overtake her own. If it didn't bring him smack into her back. But Jonathan adjusted to allow himself precisely the safest distance with Susan still in view. The view of her coat as black and narrow as the skirt not so much as flitting about her legs. Momentarily the urge to peel them back up and over was reborn. Now with her standing up, to enjoy his prior angle, he'd have to do a handstand. Or. Teatime tilted his head a degree.
Wasn't this a pleasant surprise she was without the sword. Not that Jonathan hadn't missed his new friend, but if he couldn't play with it he'd hate to have to watch someone else get to. Even Susan. By the same token how wonderful it was to see Susan again!
Alone.
When the street thug grabbed her arm she was prepared to throttle him before he could make away with the contents of her bag or pockets. Facing her thief she was gob smacked. Jonathan Teatime was something that looked more out of place in daylight then the moon and the bloody stars.
She'd been working up for a loud physical retaliation when his speed made another appearance. Teatime went for the wrists, taking hold and shaking her. Then immediately holding her at arms length in customary "Oh let me have a look at you" fashion.
Moving his grip to her hands he found them wads of bandages.
He gave a small smile as he looked up to which she reared back. But with him still in possession of her she only managed to go round in a circle. Teatime continued the motion sending them into a lopsided ring around the rosy. They circled twice before he stopped stone still releasing her to unwind from the cyclone of his embrace into the wall's.
"You're doing well" His sunny sentiment seemed almost heartbreakingly lost in the face of the sour bent figure propped up against the storefront. "They didn't have to amputate them, I'm so pleased".
"Touch me once more and your's should be so lucky" .
Teatime blinked bemused flexing his healthy digits for her inspection "What ever for Susan?". His eyes gleamed undercutting his half hearted attempt at innocence.
"Idiot, this time-" She ground out finally rising to her full height.
"Thank you for your concern though, I should extend the same then?" He offered her the crook of his arm by forcefully looping it through her own. They were brought suddenly face to face before he swung himself around. The two brought just as suddenly side by side, in perfect form for a stroll arm and arm.
When she tried to extricate her arm with her stuffed mitt he simply tightened the circle of his bent arm.
"If you think we're on for a second go of this in broad-" She punctuated her cool and collected demand by exerting as much reckless force right as she could. The other pedestrians given no warning to make way for the woman. "-daylight you're mistaken sir".
The assassin remained glued at her side making no challenge to Susan's abrupt change of direction. Jonathan allowed her to jerk them slanted down the street while her right hand dug between his bicep and her own. "Don't be so nervous, I only mean to help you".
Perhaps he did, not having thought this encounter through past 'there she was, here he came'. His intentions toward Ms. Sto Helit were all rather confusing. Through much thought on the subject any remaining bitterness towards his defeat had resettled around her. That is to say not quite towards-
"Nervous? After my Grandfather shooed you out the backdoor like a rat?" Susan halted her forward trajectory entirely "Mr. Teatime I'm perfectly at ease with you, but I really do have to take my leave now".
"As you should be Miss" His quiet voice soaking up the taste of any remaining bitterness as the words left his mouth "But I couldn't possibly let you alone now. Someone might take advantage"
"Advantage?" Her breath escaping incredulously along with the word.
His left hand found her right, still buried between them trying to relax his hold, and squeezed. Jonathan felt no need to name her wound again. Moreover he didn't need to name her wound to enjoy what he did feel.
That someone could take advantage. That he could. That he had.
Her teeth set and brow tensed nearly imperceptibly. Trace yet undeniable proof he had won some small victory in the Hogswatch war. By the look of pain on her face they were nearly even. Why poor Susan. He was on his way to forgiving her entirely.
Poor Susan immediately retrieved her offended extremity and put it to work shoving at his shoulder. Stinging palm be damned and damned if she was going to let on how much it was. "The last thing I need from you is a chaperoning". She succeeded in keeping her temper level and some gravel out of her growl.
"Escorting" He corrected. "I'll see you home" Jonathan began leading the way this time "I know the-" She redirected a good shove to his throat cutting him short altogether.
Teatime caught that hand before his breath. He roughly returned it to her right side by reaching his left arm across her and kept it there by painfully pressing it into her own waist. This brought the two closer. Her cheek against his shoulder, his elbow against her ribs.
Their wild movements and tight proximity gave the other street goers reason to give a larger berth to the pair. The strange couple appearing both to be melding together and pulling apart.
Now he found himself less confused and more annoyed with his intentions towards Ms. Sto Helit. Annoyed and sore. Annoyed by and sore from. And distracted.
He hated being annoyed and distracted from his goals. What was more annoying and distracting was that the annoying distraction was the goal in this case. Susan. She somehow managed to both attract and repel. Usually with violence. But that was something too.
Which was becoming a familiar dance between them- not familiar in a tiresome way. Not much of a dance either. It was more like a game. The kind of game that was awfully fun to play, but a fight kept breaking out at.
It was entirely unfair that she expected him to be engaged in both properly at the same time. How she expected him to enjoy her company while she tried to yank both his arms out of their sockets.
Amongst the tugging of dark coats the grocery list's stark white parchment made a louder impression than its own literal crinkling. Wrested from waiting in Susan's pocket and fluttering down between them.
Jonathan followed. The both of them dropping to curtsey closer to the sidewalk.
Even after lowering himself, and by extension themselves, to reach the note he had to consider his own reach. The odds of either of them prying it off the pavement in their current configuration were slim. What with both Susan's hands occupied with Teatime and said Susan occupying 100 percent of one arm and 50 percent of the crook of his remaining arm.
He had to resort to reaching with his forearm through Susan's elbow and his own to just scrape his fingertips over the ground. Jonathan still kept incredible balance for the both of them considering most of his concentration was on picking up the paper and none of Susan's was directed at either cause. Instead focused on incrementally lessening her resistance.
She might have been so generous as to spare some concentration to his task. If Susan could have predicted that once it became clear to him that he couldn't reach his quarry he'd forget about balancing altogether.
After his eighth attempt to angle and grasp for it failed he simply let them drop to their knees.
To get loose from this man from her feet was trying. Lifting herself up away from him bent backwards and bound up in ropes had been impossible. Susan was right side up now though and only really bound up with him. Joints shouldn't be harder to break than knots. She was feeling his go lax in turn as her struggle calculatingly died down.
Watching his struggle Susan had to wonder what part in his revenge this mundane endeavor played. Had he been waiting for her? Really not fool enough to try to attack her at home again, but fool enough to try it out on the street?
His strategy throughout their interactions - the one that was hardest to contend with and infuriatingly easiest for him to employ- to act without warning so she had to be perpetually on notice was simple to adopt for herself. So while he tried to unfold her grocery list one handed she un tucked her legs one at a time from beneath her. With both her legs now bent before her Susan was ready to stand at once. Up and out of his hold.
Of course the problem with both of them acting without warning was that when he decided to stand -at precisely that moment- her bent legs were left to unfurl in mid air. Down and out of his hold she fell in a heap. Her plan proving at once to be a miscalculation and a stroke of genius.
For better still Teatime didn't appear to notice her lateral escape, instead pleased with the full use of his extremities returned to him. It was enough of a blessing that she was damn near ready to crawl.
Unfolding with both hands and reading with one eye Jonathan gleaned for himself what Susan's mystery document was about. He turned to wave it at her in triumph. Although even as his enthusiasm came as a reflex his mind simultaneously wasn't that blown away by a grocery list.
Not finding her right or left (or right again) he finally caught sight of her still on the ground. On hands and knees slowly making her way across the sidewalk.
Susan knew she'd been cheated on time when his shadow cast itself over her. The involuntary manifestation of his presence managing to fall as heavy as his ropes or person. Or maybe with how soon after his touch followed she couldn't differentiate.
She was pulled up by her waist straight away. Her line of sight barely having time to adjust from the cracks in the pavement to the shop windows of the street before being replaced with crinkled handwriting.
Susan moaned in protest to which he pulled the parchment taught with a pop. Teatime holding the sheet of paper out in front of her from his place behind her back reassured her. "Don't worry, I've got it".
Sure he wasn't oblivious enough of her animosity to actually believe she was down there looking for her list and not trying to flee. But as that was so rude of Susan and as Jonathan was a gentleman he glossed over her poor manners.
He didn't even expect her to be grateful for it. The same as he didn't expect her to give him due credit for not simply letting her carry on with her bum up in the air like that.
She ducked under his hands half expecting him to enclose them over her shoulders. When he parted them to let her through she was genuinely surprised. The assassin didn't move to recapture her. No, he'd returned to studying the list.
Susan didn't stop to marvel at this a second more than it demanded. She took off.
It was not like her to ever take the latter in the order of fight or flight. This reaction overrode instinct. It was a reflex she was quite recently developing in the presence of Mr. Teatime. Despite it's resemblance to cowardice she much preferred it to one other reaction she'd had in his presence. One she'd loathe to have become a reflex with how much she'd been subject to physical contact with him already today.
This wasn't a permanent solution she knew. She needed to deal with him. Susan didn't have a destination, already turned around from home. Which clearly was out of the question regardless. She couldn't return to her charges house with him on her heels. Any old destination would do. So long as there were no witnesses.
Her mind arrived on a reasonable motive and method of implementation. Now she needed an implement. Any old object would do. None however were provided at that moment. Since when were there no sticks or stones lying around? Damn this city. Since when had she not had the good sense to bring something appropriately blunt along? Damn herself.
Oh hell she was on main street. She could just buy one.
Shopping had been this outings objective to begin with. Her hand-in-cast was put through the very next door handle she passed. Susan needed to have a weapon as quickly as possible. Quicker than him. Him.
So busy preparing for the hunt she'd forgotten all about the prey. The shop door closed behind her. Susan whipped around fast enough to watch it shut in her face.
Teatime didn't come rushing past. She'd only gotten a few blocks. She moved to peer out the storefront window, but he wasn't where he'd been left either.
As claustrophobic as his close proximity was his absence now felt just as suffocating. Had it been a mistake to let him out of sight? Teatime could be anywhere now. He could be on his way to the Gaiters.
She had an armory at home, but was still determined to keep this off her home turf. A term she hadn't been able control on Hogswatch. Susan's eyes quickly scanned the shelves around her for a sharp object and it wasn't long before one came into view. She was still at a disadvantage wielding weapons, but she'd just as soon wrap a knife handle around her fist.
Red Riding Hood would quite literally cut the Big Bad Wolf off at the path this time. Closing in on the clerk with his own menacingly gleaming merchandise Susan used both hands to slam a common kitchen knife onto the counter.
It was followed immediately by a half gallon of milk, a dozen eggs, one stick of butter, half a pound of apples-
The rest of the groceries piled up in front of her as if they appeared from thin air. The shop keep was left with no other explanation himself before a man formed beside the female customer. Now that was a much more rational excuse for the food stuffs.
How the male customer managed to come out from thin air remained a mystery.
She did not have time to be relived Teatime wasn't making his way to slaughter her household. This had to be done before he could gain the upper hand again. Susan put her vital moments to better use picking up the knife. Scooping up the knife. Swatting it across the counter. Bloody hell.
It seemed every attempt was doomed. The woman could feel the adrenaline bleed from her. The last few drops fueling a restless need. In Susan this manifested as a jaded desire to see this latest fiasco end. Just end. Already feeling ridiculous for it.
Mercifully it wasn't Teatime that disarmed her this time. No, it was the cashier. Dropping her salvation into a paper bag as he punched in it's, she was damn certain, overpriced cost.
Before it could occur to pay for that disappointing purchase, let alone the milk, Jonathan was handing over the funds. They both waited for his change.
Why not? After that last mad dash to stop him Susan was becoming resigned to waiting for his violence to erupt.
She just wanted him to get to the point. Enough with the pretenses, pretending to be escorting her home, helping her with errands. Last time he came claiming to want to play with her or pay her a visit whichever the hell it was. He must've known then she wasn't the least bit convinced. She was increasingly confident he wasn't a man capable of bluffing. Or caring to. Though he'd snuffed out when she'd been.
But when had he proven himself to be rational? Thus far he'd always feigned being cordial in the same breath as his death threats. Always expecting her to receive him with casual norms. He might as well have been deaf to how loud his actions spoke over his words. Or maybe he just believed she was? When she'd been witness to this murderer running her through with a sword, batting her around a kitchen, and sliding his finge-
Susan had to find a way out of this debacle. She'd already had once before! Hadn't she?
But he'd left of his own accord then. Or Grandfather's. Or his own accord for Grandfather. Before that she'd been similarly at his mercy.
No, he'd tied her up first. Only after she'd been knocked out cold. After Teatime had managed to get the sword away from her. She recounted the battle in her head. Her body had taken enough notes during the scuffle in the form of bruises. The cuts on her hands. It still infuriated her.
How had that blasted git gotten the better of her? She'd been infuriated. And why? He thwarted her halting of time.
Of course! Now just as furious at herself. There she was trying to beat the bleeding clock around him. Figuratively she could cripple it.
He had no token of Death's power at his disposal this time. And Susan would have loved that to be the detail she overlooked. When honestly it hadn't occurred to her. That while she needn't snap her fingers to freeze time, without the use of them she'd all but forgotten that she could.
Of course that was this bastards fault as well.
Jonathan recognized the look this time. Her features beaming with confidence. An obnoxious 'knowing something he did not' confidence. He recognized the one that came after too. A much more appealing dawning of failure. It formed much faster this time.
To his painful disappointment it wasn't followed by the wash of light or blizzard of hair he remembered. Susan's coming at him headlong with force came right on schedule though.
She came crashing into his chest. This time she wasn't trying to reclaim a sword, just beat him senseless. Her fists landed generously about his torso. What did it matter where she hit him? There wasn't a target on him less deserving. More to the point she didn't know where to start.
What was it now? What was he holding now? How did he manage to once again sidestep her abilities?
Teatime was puzzling these very same questions with Susan. They were more giddily asked across his mind, but if it was any consolation to her he pondered them with a good deal more physical pain. It wouldn't have been much of a consolation as she was forced to inflict that physical pain with her own wounded palms.
But she would have been pleased to find that fact created more problems for him.
Susan had small hands. Lovely things that he'd been more than happy to slice open. Those slices however were now wearing an armor of tough gauze. Those small hands doubled in size like a pair of white boxing gloves.
He was even having trouble catching them as they powdered his chest. Powder.
Teatime saw them. Flecks of light. At once he had a good idea of what lucky talisman he had in his possession this time. After that it took the smallest fraction of investigating to confirm his suspicion.
Sparks, here and there dusting up from his coat wherever Susan's blows hit. He recognized them. Ernie's fairy dust. He was sure of it. He remembered what it looked like when he'd thrown it in Death's face and the shape of the metal tin he could feel Susan beating into his skin. Teatime covered his mouth and eyes with his sleeves as it became equally harder to see through the sparks and not breathe them in.
Jonathan would have shared this information, but couldn't catch her attention before he felt the lid and the container come apart. This time when Susan's fist landed glitter dusted up from his pocket in a cloud.
The cashier who'd politely minded his business as the lady began pummeling her gentleman friend at once started hollering. It was one thing for customers to rough up each other, they were always right after all, but another when they started roughing up his store. He couldn't be sure how much of that he'd gotten out of his mouth before the sparkly mess they were throwing around got in.
Susan had taken a sizeable amount of that sparkly mess into her lungs as well. She'd been arriving at the same conclusion as Teatime, but remembered too late her Grandfather's comment about his carrying fairy dust.
Teatime watched her convulse. One bandaged hand trying to prevent more dust from getting down her throat as the other furiously beat what had already managed to out from her chest. As he heard her coughing become increasingly more alarming something finally gripped him. A deeply troubling realization.
He was losing all of his fairy dust.
His hand reached into his pocket to pull out the disassembled vessel. Keeping the tin's lid 'just so' Jonathan's fingers worked to brush back in all the freed substance from his coat, the counter, the floor, (mixed results) the air, and of course Susan.
She'd been fighting for oxygen when Teatimes hands were suddenly beating her back. His ministrations went some way to helping free up her airway. The efforts were diverted away quite quickly to her arms, sides, and hair.
Susan didn't pay much mind to what else he was up to as she regained the ability to breathe. Until after patting her down he took to blowing off the remaining dust.
Her boot reared back with more skill than Binky could have hoped to been born with.
Satisfied that he'd collected as much back from Susan as was wise to, Jonathan turned (hopping) his attention to the clerk. He had been coughing just as fitfully. He'd certainly have coughed up the rest of his dust by now.
In fact he had! The man was up and throwing open the door. A fine idea since the store was stuffy and Teatime appreciated that he'd waited until after he was done gathering up.
The shop keep gulped down four of five helpings of air before he turned to expel them at these one time customers.
Teatime was taken aback when he heard the "GET OUT!". He'd already paid more on those groceries than he ever normally would have if he didn't want to avoid looking cheap in front of a lady.
Susan was appalled this man took her for some rowdy consumer and not obviously a hostage. When the shop keep began waving his arms around and trying to physically remove them she was almost keen on leaving the store without Teatime in tow. Of course with him going mad after a madman like that she couldn't in good conscience.
She stepped between the two men.
Jonathan however wasn't interested in retaliation. He gathered up the grocery bags and tried ushering Susan out the door. This was difficult with the man behind her blocking their way. When she balked at his efforts he used a leg to insist. First to insist Ms. Sto Helit step out of the shop keep's way . Then to insist the shop keep make way for both of them.
It didn't take much convincing to get Susan out after that.
Now out in public Susan was once again left alone with her unwanted companion.
He'd just paid for her groceries. She'd attacked him and he hadn't sought immediate retribution. He'd somewhat just exited an establishment after being asked. Maybe he was crazy enough to civil.
"Well" She began still trying to adjust her eyes to this killer bundling brown paper bags in his arms. "Thank you. I think that'll -"
"Oh it was nothing, no trouble at all" He was actually smiling pleasantly. What could be called pleasant compared to the other masks of criminally insane glee he'd shown her.
"Right, so-". He could take that kindness out in the street. Face down.
"I just couldn't have stood back and watched you try to get it done on your own". He shook his head off to the side, voice laced with pity. And humor.
"How altruistic of you." How much pandering to this game would give him his fill? She already knew the answer to that. How much could she stand.
"Wasn't it just?" Teatime gave her one nod before turning off to the side to continue the gesture agreeing with himself. "It was up to me to be the better person".
She supposed if she could manage to play along with his rules some he'd have to either let her win or toss the board up in the air and show his true colors.
"You shouldn't have, really" She meant that. Susan didn't know how much insincere sincerity she could muster in the face of his smug charity.
There was no doubt in her mind he believed himself the better person.
"I know" He saw what she was doing, but failed to appreciate she had a point. "But still a good thing I bumped into you".
"Yes, what ever would have become of me-" Susan couldn't even look him in the eye for that one, facing the nonexistent audience he'd been directing his responses to.
"You didn't even remember your note". Teatime managed to sound sincerely concerned. "Of course even with your hands, your brain can't be helped" 'Oh you poor thing' without losing the essence of 'you absent minded twit'.
"Well I'd forgotten I left it with you" forgotten to leave it lodged down your windpipe. Enough was enough Susan reached to take the groceries from him and put an end to this argument. "Wasn't necessary, but all the same". None of it was.
Jonathan gladly consented by shoving the bags into her arms. Susan had to move fast to keep the contents from toppling out onto the sidewalk. Teatime casually slid his hands into his pockets.
"Really?" Jonathan peered inside the bags. "You didn't remember a single thing off that list".
Susan rolled her eyes and genuinely turned to leave in exhaustion "Sure I did, it's all here. Great job all around".
"I did" Teatime removed one hand from his pants to slip into a bag. When it surfaced, from the very bottom and beneath all visible purchases, it came up with her knife. "This wasn't even on it". Teatime turned the handle up. He turned the blade a few times so she could appreciate the serious sharpness of it's edge and her serious reflection.
"I-" The gravity of the threat actually settled on her in earnest. She made one last hopeless attempt to approach him in the context of the game. "It just occurred to me".
"Ah" He stepped around her to stand by her side. His eyes had never left the knife, not even to gage her reaction. "That explains why you were so-"
"Focused." She offered.
"Excited." He corrected.
Her spine straightened as upright as the kitchen knife held up for her benefit.
"Good taste" He really did approve. "There wasn't anything interesting on that list anyway". With one step he was behind her.
Susan prepared to let the bags slip and defend herself. Teatime was faster, forcing her to hold them up by wrapping one arm around both of hers
This situation wasn't a game. Humoring him from his viewpoint had been a foolish idea to entertain.
Yet even as the danger grew Susan recognized this is what she had wanted. Well, it was the contingency plan. Handling him without the pretense.
He had her pinned to him in a much more demanding hold then before. Out in front of him as opposed to at his side. She just wouldn't stay still today. More to the point she didn't appear to be all there. The woman wasn't really listening to him. Preoccupied. Daydreaming. Ignoring him. He thought after he'd assisted her it wasn't asking too much to have her attention. So he asked.
The blade's impression could barely be felt on the outside of her coat before it had passed through her clothing. Jonathan had his own knives. But this, like Death's sword had been, was a gift from Susan. Her suggestion.
The flat of it was pressed against her thigh. Her skin. The tip slid under her stocking.
She felt violated.
He felt it was a more personal way to remind Susan of her femoral artery.
Susan wasn't impressed with his ideas for her tool. Which were pointless diversions from her death.
"I would of ran that across your throat" She wasn't a murderess, but she'd never respect laziness. "Out with it".
Her head turned to angle her face up as much as she could to the man at her back. Which was very little. But her eyes found him, rolling up to fix on him fiercely. Pitch black irises reflecting violet from within.
"Why remove it now?" Why indeed. Her tool had worked spectacularly. Teatime had her undivided attention now. Susan came off much more sincere when her blood was boiling. "It got you-"
"What do you want?" If he thought she sounded genuine before. "Here. Now. With me. Spit that out."
"Haven't I-?You've forgotten already?" They were back to square one? "To escort you home" he reminded her. Maybe Susan really was a flake. "You really aren't well are you?"
He tsked three times before the sound skittered into giggles.
"You really aren't bright." She spat cringing away from the sounds stabbing into her ear. "I remember telling you we weren't going anywhere".
Teatime remembered that tone and forgot his giggling entirely. Reprimanding and corrective.
"Why do you think you get to tell me where to go?". He pulled her back into his chest, the grocery bags crushing hers in the process. Jonathan felt he had more say in where the governess went.
"I don't care where you go" Susan couldn't make room for her lungs to expand in front of her, leaving only two options. Make room behind her by pressing back into him or asking him to lift the pressure. Neither desirable. She hoped relenting to him might inspire him to. "I don't presume to tell you where to go".
"I know." The smile was back in his voice like it had never left. Taking her statement as a mutual agreement he took a step forward, pushing Susan forward with him.
But she had her way. His hold relaxed. The knife disappeared.
At first Susan's feet had no more control than dust in front of a broom. But once she fell in line with his pace, between his steps, Jonathan moved her off to his side.
There were making quite some distance away from the store Susan noted grimly. She hadn't a choice in the matter, tethered to him by one of his damnable limbs. She did note reluctantly that arm took some of the weight of the groceries. Groceries she regretted as nothing else in recent memory.
"So what brought you out today?" Was I walking into a trap this morning? "Before we bumped into each other". Or did I deliver myself to you all on my own?
"I'm working". He sounded professional there. Like a man with a job, and not a homicidal compulsion.
"But you have time for this?" Ever the governess she couldn't help pointing out the error.
"Well. I am entitled to a break." Jonathan wasn't one hundred percent on what the guild had to say about that. But he certainly didn't see why they'd be opposed.
"Of course you are, what else did unions march for?" The sarcasm would have been easily recognizable if she wasn't genuinely amused.
"Exactly-". Teatime honestly misconstrued the enthusiasm in her voice.
"So murderers could take a breather between-" Susan still did take exception to the idea of murderers enjoying labor privileges.
"I'm not a murderer Susan, I'm an assassin". Teatime took greater exception to his title being confused.
"An assassin is not a murderer?" This sadist wanted to split hairs over what synonym for killer she used? "How so?".
"Assassin's provide a public service." They also had degrees and paychecks, but so did plenty of other professions. He took more pride in the actual work.
"Is that it?" Susan had a hard time taking Teatime as a man of the people. Does he really take himself for one? "Just what kind of service do you think you provide for the public?".
"People want other people dead, we carry that out" Jonathan gathered from Susan's dubious expression his point hadn't sunk in. "Without Assassins people would just go about murdering people".
"Right, of course" She really wasn't safe with him. She'd known he took pleasure in his crimes, now she knew he thought of them as civic acts. "Well if it's so important you really should get back to it, shouldn't you?"
"Oh this assignment? It's just a formality really. I have to keep an eye on him a total of twenty four hours".
"Well, that does seem a ridiculously painful waste of time" Susan didn't make any effort to sound sympathetic to his plight. The target was a him. Out of twenty four hours how many did he have left?
"I'll say, a corpse doesn't do much in the course of a day". This clearly was a great imposition on him.
"Corpse? They sent you to knock off a dead man?" Susan snapped at him, not sure if she was annoyed that he'd be such a fool, or his employers, or that the poor late bastard wasn't going to be taking Teatime off her hands in this lifetime.
"Mr. Sullivan has only been a corpse as of last night" What did Susan take him for? The undead didn't need to be knocked off. Then again if he put some thought to it…
"What was the point of standing outside his home watching him rot then?" Had she really voluntarily walked into this mess? He'd only been out stalking the deceased before she came traipsing along.
"I know. This part of the contract is hardly-" Susan actually had some fairly decent insight on these matters. That is she agreed with him. Maybe if Death's granddaughter spoke to the guild-
"So they asked for it?" There was actually a contract that stipulated this madness. Negotiations. Price haggling. Signatures.
"They wanted him watched for precisely 24 hours, inhumed, and some sort of…" He didn't want to bore her with industry jargon "keepsake. To remember it by".
"How sentimental. You mean a body part." Was he really being cute about this?
"I agree how saccharine" he shook his head in distaste. "I gave them the kidneys" Teatime cheered up at that.
"Both?" What could they possible want with both? She'd seen all manner of blood and guts before. The term keepsake suddenly brought about visions of gift wrapped carnage.
"Copies. Makes filing easier." He didn't seem to understand what they planned to do with those kidneys either. "I got that out of the way by three"
"Well done". How lucky for her he had time to spare.
"Done? I still had to return to the task of killing Mr. Sullivan and then this visual report" Jonathan trailed off. They'd since past Mr. Sullivan's apartment. He turned to look back down the street.
"Was that all?" Of course he wouldn't see those things going in any particular order. Susan pictured how the mad man would have gone about the business as he didn't appear to be paying attention to her now. "Messy" She mused aloud.
"There is that" Jonathan nodded bringing his attention back to her "but for an additional fee-"
"People can pay to have the whole mess swept under a rug then?" She couldn't imagine him on his hands and knees scrubbing away.
"Yes of course" Ms. Sto Helit seemed to be taking a genuine interest in his work. "Are you looking to have someone inhumed Susan?"
''Just how much would you ask to depose yourself?" Maybe hiring an assassin was the answer. They couldn't have any worse luck with it.
"I don't know if that would be proper considering who your Grandfather is" He shook his head eyes boring into her as she watched the street. "No, no a gross abuse of power".
"Perfectly permissible for you to depose of him though?" There was no conflict of interest that applied to her. Not unless her Grandfather was seeing her victims off first.
"I'm licensed" He immediately dismissed any of her righteous anger at his attempt on the life of her Granddad. Ms. Sto Helit had brought up a much more sensitive issue to him. "But your Grand father should be investigated".
"What?" The twit was incensed she found.
"I could seek out council. He definitely out stepped his-" Teatime was ready to launch into a rant.
"You stole his sword an-!" Susan needed to stop their march to holler, Teatime cooperatively halted to counter hysterically.
"It didn't work! Right through him! The con! The hypocrite!" His free arm gestured widely nearly hitting several pedestrians who proceeded to cross the street. "I was ch-"
"You should not have gone after us in the first-!" She twisted to face him irate.
"Oh I know you wouldn't have been so unreasonable Susan" Just like that he was composed. Jonathan didn't want her to think he thought the same about her. He knew she'd bleed, reaching out to give her a few reassuring pats on the shoulder.
"Unreasonable?" Her tone had calmed greatly as well. Susan was less than touched, but in awe of his gall. Allowing him to start them off on their way again.
"Not that your completely innocent showing up like that…" He didn't want her to think she was off the hook either. Susan still had a lot to make up for.
"You're the one who dragged me into it, sir. At point". She obstinately motioned with her chin to the knife she knew was hiding in his other sleeve.
"You're pleasant company all things considered" Jonathan wasn't dissuaded by her temperament from being honest. As truthful he could be. Susan wasn't always good company, but the fun in that had been pleasing at times.
"Considering you had to have me bound and tortured?" She struggled for show, demonstrating how he still had her pleasant company against her will.
"That was business. I had a job to do" He recalled now that women could be so very hard to please. Hadn't he given her enough attention that night?
"You were trying to murder an anthropomorphized holiday. That is my business" Susan suddenly wanted to regain her official capacity over that matter. It had been business and she didn't care at all for the way his eyes seemed to be imploring her to some end.
"Your family's business doesn't cue in until after" He really did feel there had been some unethical intervention on the part of Death's office.
"After revenge for that then?" It was a half hearted accusation tossed off as she turned away from his scrutiny. Teatime might have had the one eye, but there was definitely something off about the dummy in his empty socket. Perhaps it was that the right gave you such an unsettling look, and the left made you watch how unsettled you were.
"Why would you think that?" Jonathan was plenty set on vengeance, but he didn't want that to effect the enjoyment of his company. It baffled him how so few sought it.
"You know what? No reason." No reason he could comprehend. "You've been lovely. Now if you're not here for retribution, why don't you be a gentleman and take your leave now" Bugger off. She couldn't appeal to his reason, but his vanity?
"Where?" Susan was lying about all that. Most of the people he associated with lied just the same. Jonathan really didn't give a damn how they felt as long as they behaved as if they gave a damn what he felt. The counterfeit sentiment from Susan was welcomed on one hand, but on the other…
"To-Where ever you please" Had that actually worked? Would he actually go if she asked nicely? Susan made a conscious decision to annunciate his surname how he wished for the first time. "Mr. Teatime. It was good of you to take me this far." She threw a Mr. in front of it and thanked him again disingenuously for good measure. "I really do have to insist I see myself the rest of the way."
"But we've almost arrived" His words now held a strangely horrifying melody. She'd said his name and all at once Susan's counterfeit sentiment became incomparable. If she'd had called him by his first…
The gravity of his expression had Susan both unconsciously and consciously wanting to take a step away from him. As nothing before had compelled Ms. Sto Helit in all her years. But what was behind her but his shoulder? What was in front of her but his arm?
Teatime was studying her. The more engrossed he became, the more all consuming his presence. Susan abruptly broke off their eye contact needing to end his scrutiny and escape it. Nothing that met her eyes put her any more at ease.
"I don't live on this street" She didn't live anywhere near this street. How had he managed to turn them around this much? Hadn't he told her they'd almost arrived h-?
"You said you didn't want to go home" Susan's moods.
"I didn't want to go with you" She drew the words out and reestablished eye contact, trying to eek out his intentions. What destination he had in mind.
"But you said I could go wherever I wanted." Why was she so keen on going home now? She'd talked him out of that ages ago.
They turned a corner and Susan tore her eyes from his again. They found the path stopped rather abruptly a few yards ahead.
Susan pulled back as hard as she could. As far as back as she could move both of them. She anticipated the resistance he would present behind her, throwing her back into it. Teatime anticipated her resistance and released her simultaneously. She stumbled backwards before the weight of the groceries tipped her forward again.
The bags poured out of her hold. Food, canned and otherwise, was scattering at their feet. Susan had some trouble finding the footwork to avoid the chaos, but Teatime didn't miss a step. She'd only just turned back to the opening of the alleyway when he closed in.
They were going to collide.
"Mr. Teati-" The immediate objection was more frantic than fearful. Her mind calculating the danger of the man toppling them both faster than the danger he himself presented. Arms outstretched in front of her.
"Jonathan" he offered just as quickly as her plea, crashing into her, grabbing her shoulder blades and continuing to move them to the end of the alley.
They really should be on a first name basis at this point. Jonathan decided he'd like to get to that basis by the end of this.
He hadn't had them all the way to the wall before he felt her hands press on his shoulders. It was hard to distinguish wrapped as they were, but he definitely felt her thumbs dig into the ends of his collar bone.
Teatime actually took this hint to stop, entirely missing that it applied to him as well. He'd paused before sliding his hands from her shoulders to her waist.
Susan was catching her breath and still had him held out at arms lengths when he began. His hands slid down under her rib cage, in and out of the curve of her form, and didn't stop until the flare of her hips. She couldn't process what good it did him to change his hold on her. The touch was intimate, but took seconds, too quick for the governess to suspect anything.
Her face was blank when a hand moved to the small of her back. Then a prick. The tip of the knife poking out of his cuff. She stiffened at the threat, on alert once more.
Really he hadn't paid much mind to the knife in his sleeve. He had twelve more tucked about his person. He just didn't pay much mind to whether it pricked her either. Whether she was afraid he might or not.
When she'd touched him he had only responded. Susan had a nice figure. Teatime didn't explore it much more than running his hands over it in one pass. Really what caught him was her face.
She'd been blinking at him vaguely questioning when he placed that hand around her back. It wasn't really a pressing matter to get through to her. He hadn't felt her bum yet. When her kitchen knife made an appearance just as his palm had arrived at her tailbone though…
Her vacant expression changed. Eyes lidded, mouth closed. The lashes fluttered as her mouth gasped open. Her shoulders drew up, her back arching away from one hand and in to the other.
That had been his invitation before. Hogswatch he had to run and just meant to give her a peck before she'd made that shape with her lips. A perfect oval folding into points at the corners of her mouth.
Susan hadn't meant an invitation on either occasion. Her surprise at his attempt to kiss her this time came just as honestly. She'd still been trying to predict where his tactic for intimidating her was going when she recognized the shape of his mouth.
He'd leaned his face forward despite the fact he still had Susan's arms preventing him from doing so. His expression frighteningly familiar to the one he'd held above her on Hogswatch.
Teatime didn't purse his lips or close his eyes to kiss. No, the man kept them both open and opened his mouth just so. Open just so, tightly, with his teeth parted just enough.
She immediately drew back. Her back brushed against the knife, and reflex brought her hips forward. Grateful for the space still between them, she reinforced her pressure on his shoulders. Trying to push him away without pushing herself against the blade again.
Jonathan undeterred tried to use his possession of her waist to pull her closer. When her arms still kept him at bay he tugged harder, succeeding in bringing Susan's lower half closer while her upper body held strong.
As strong as it could with her now in danger of falling backward. She bent her neck back, looking upward and fighting to keep her elbows from bending. He continued to wrench her towards him and she had to scrabble to keep her ground.
She was winning that battle, but her hands lost their firm position. Now closer to his collar bone then his shoulder blades.
Teatime frustrated when he couldn't gain leverage tried to remember how he'd managed a kiss before. Why before Susan hadn't made this so difficult. They'd been face to face and her knees had been closer to him then her chest then too…
He pictured her face that night again. The Flustered breathing, the parted lips, the shiny tiles. Tiles. Oh that's right the floor… He considered pushing them both to the ground before he noticed the bricks behind her.
He charged ahead into the wall. The force surely would have had the knife in Teatime's hand in Susan's spine. Luckily, debatably, as Susan's head and upper back were the farthest away from Teatime they were the first to hit the wall. Her arms being forced to bend and allow his chest to collide with her own. Her hands winding up closer to the center of his clavicle.
Her neck was still arched to the sky so when Jonathan's mouth came crashing forward it took the brunt of his lips. It was more of a bite as his teeth had set with his determination to bring them there. She brought her head back down quickly knocking her chin into his forehead.
With the wall behind her now she had no where to, but it also provided her some leverage of her own. If she could just get her hands in the right position.
The window of opportunity for that was closing by the second. Once he had her back flat against the bricks he'd pushed her hips flat against them too. His legs herding hers backward and stepping between them.
Soon they were sternum to sternum. The vicinity of his chest too close now, trapping her elbows with no room to extend her arms. The only thing keeping their faces separate was her hands, now fisted at his throat.
His throat.
She took hold and began to choke him. Her hands cumbersome and unwieldy in their dressings. Teatime gasped for air, her ministrations only intermittently cutting off his airway. He dragged the hand stationed between her back and the wall up to the nape of her neck.
Closing it around her throat, but not squeezing. He pulled her closer, as he pushed his chest up into her breasts, closing the gap between them.
Susan could barely keep her hands around his throat now. Her last solution being to bring her forearms up between them to cover her face. She heard him grunt quietly behind them, but couldn't discern if he was laughing or growling. His nose and mouth pressed to the seam where her arms touched.
So she felt the moment his face disappeared, and felt his torso lifted from her own.
The hands at her hip and the base of her skull braced before his head came crashing up under her elbows. Her forearms forced upward and his mouth pushed though between them.
Her lips took the brunt of his this time.
He kissed her. Was kissing her. His lips mouthing over her own. Head turned just so.
Susan kept her mouth tight. When she had crossed paths with him an hour or so ago she hadn't considered that he had any sexual intentions. Even with their last encounter on Hogswatch looming between them. She could hardly believe what transpired had transpired as it was transpiring.
Teatime was becoming more insistent. The hand behind her neck holding a knife just outside his sleeve. His mouth drawing over hers teeth just behind his lips. Nicking.
His head turned once or twice, left and right. His nose blocking her nostrils air supply in either direction. Her brain needed more oxygen.
So she excused her self when she opened her mouth knowing full well she was letting her enemy in at the gate.
She rationalized. She had already tasted him before. If memory served he tasted like outrage and shock with an aftertaste of rope. That first kiss had only lasted a few seconds, this was going on a minute.
Jonathan hadn't let up when she'd parted her lips for his.
That had been what he was after and he put up hell for it. But once Susan had given him her whole mouth it soon occurred to him they weren't kissing. Not really.
Mr. Te ah ti me wasn't a lover and hadn't had many. He'd made himself familiar with the ins and outs of the business of relations around the time the subject had come up in school. It was around the time all boys & girls discovered they had buttons, switches, and sockets on the Disc.
He was having an inordinately hard time finding his way around Susan's buttons and switches.
It had been a rather non sequitur in the Assassins Guild for him. Most other students had experience with relationships because most other students had relationships. Teatime was a (left a)loner. First he read what the textbooks had to say. Then for practical experience he'd consulted smaller scale models of the opposite sex. The kind the opposite sex usually carried around and played with. Before he finally had field experience. But it had been as confusing, thrilling and life altering for him as it had been for anyone. Unlike anyone else, once the novelty wore off he discovered passions paled in comparison to his true passion. Since then he hadn't bothered with it much.
Susan figured out what Teatime wanted when after his tongue couldn't spell it out for her his mouth did. Literally mumbling the words "Susan" and "Youvegatta" messily inside her mouth. She began kissing him back half in an effort to berate him for assuming he needed to instruct her on any matter.
She was a grown woman. She'd had relationships as any other woman had. Even as she was aware other women seemed to have more relationships.
Susan could kiss and once they'd shared a few he let up some pressure. After which they were almost pleasant. But she didn't dwell on that or its horrifying ramifications.
Staying practical the governess found that if she initiated every other kiss, he would give her air between them. If she couldn't bring her elbows down on his skull, she could rest them there. If she let him bring her hips against his, he'd allow some space between their chests. And once she managed to fall into rhythm with all that, he was almost gentle.
Aside from gentle she didn't dare think what she felt he was. She hadn't reconciled the radical shift in scenarios. She thought they were about to come to blows from the very second they'd met on the street. Expected that. And absolutely could not accept that they weren't right at this moment.
She was honestly writhing in a back alley with a man. A man who looked like an overgrown curly haired tot dressed for a funeral. It was ludicrous, unwanted, and she needed to put a suitable end to it- noting absently he was an acceptable shape and height for writhing.
Jonathan wasn't tied down to any absolutes. He absolutely hadn't intended to abduct Susan Sto Helit today. All the same he absolutely had, and now he had her in his arms up against a wall. These scenarios moved seamlessly for him. There was very little difference between an abduction and courting a woman in his eyes to begin with. Strictly speaking, by virtue of definition they were the same thing.
Either had him with a lady in his company. The first one in some time that had met with him, spoke with him, spent time with him(a holiday no less), and survived. (him)
He was pleased to find Susan had became a much better participant somewhere along the way. Earlier she'd seemed hopeless, which would have been dreadful. But once he'd found the right sequence she began to work spectacularly.
When he'd satisfactory displayed to her how kissing worked, he let her take the lead on that. He needed the concentration to contend with the rest of her. Her hips had begun trying to fit into his. That was particularly engaging, but then her chest had began trying to do the same. They needed to keep one half, top or bottom, still to stay upright. Susan didn't appear to be willing to cooperate or choose, so he'd helpfully lifted her hips over his own. Standing for both of them was taxing, but worth the effort. She seemed to appreciate it too, bringing her bosom up to his whenever he had to shift to keep them up.
Susan didn't seem to get as exasperated and shrill as most ladies in this position. His blue eye regarded his companion curiously. Her changes were quiet. For instance she was suddenly very pink. That was an odd color in contrast to her dark clothing and light hair. It occurred to him they were similarly colored and thus he might be similarly discolored. Which was instantly vexing.
If he did look as such, Susan didn't appear to notice. Her eyes had closed some time ago as her hands had taken up in his hair. She seemed to be considering something seriously.
From where his eye was positioned so close against her face he could just make out marks forming. Searching his brain for what they could be he remembered kiss bruises. Or hackeys. Or something like that. But he hadn't so much as licked her cheek.
It was too dark between them to see, so he pulled back, breaking their kiss. Susan looked as if she had just woken up.
She didn't understand why'd he'd stopped. And she assured herself she was just curious because of it, not disappointed. But she couldn't catch his eye to ask the question.
Teatime was looking off. He wasn't looking away from her either. Just off to the side of her face. A niggling suspicion started to prickle up her spine. By the time it reached the top, Jonathan had already taken his hand from behind her head and traced three fingers over her cheek.
He knew he was much too observant to have missed Susan having had those the whole time. Even with keyhole vision. It looked like someone had swiped a claw across her face. His fingers inspected the texture. Which was as smooth and soft as the rest of her.
Susan worked like no other woman he'd tried to operate. When he turned to smile back at her approvingly Teatime was genuinely mortified.
Ms. Sto Helit was half way through the wall.
What he held of her was getting smaller by the minute. Soon he was grasping at her hips to keep her from disappearing completely. Once her hips were gone Teatime fell forward.
Forehead smacking off the bricked surface.
Susan hit the ground inside of the building she'd previously been ravished against. She regarded both experiences woefully as she laid there composing herself. Several minutes later she stood, storming past the old man who hadn't so much as offered to help the phantom woman up after she phased in through his living room wall.
On the way home she picked up a ½ of gallon of milk and a few other assorted groceries lamenting the loss of her list.
TBC.