Disclaimer: I own nothing but my imagination, and a few stray thoughts. Characters belong to CBS and P&G. "If I Were a Bell" Music and Lyrics Written By: Frank Loesser
A/N: Takes Place between 02 Jan2009 and 15 Jan2009 episodes. (After Christmas and before the two mommies presentation.)
All errors are my own.
Kairos: Smoke, Mirrors and Piano Men
Fandom: Guiding Light Pairing: Natalia/ Olivia.
A.C. Mallet/Doris Wolfe/Dr. Felicia Boudreau
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Tony Mallet sighed, and contemplated how he got himself into being the lone man on a sake-out. Springfield's Police stake-out van held very few creature comforts. Both bucket seats were worn, the padding crushed down, head rests and arm rests were MIA.
"I need to take up darts or bowling, or stamp collecting. I gotta do anything but going over cases at home. Insomnia inspired rather than a cop sixth sense, made me look over the details again. Greg Parker's social security number gave him away. Every third digit was a six.
Three sixes flagging a connection to organized crime. A mix of surfing of FBI and Federal Marshals files gave him a name Greg Parker Gotti. Not a first degree relative, of the big boss. Greg was a cousin twice removed. He came into Federal protection as a child, his mother fleeing from her estranged husband.
Mallet voiced his dissatisfaction out loud. "I need to get a life bottom line. Here I am stuck staking out the local Rotary Club Meet and Greet. Ironic that Aaron "The Sparrow'; pimp, thief, and confidence man suggested he insert himself into Springfield during a Rotary Club meeting."
Mallet flipped though the local clubs charter again. He re-read the motto 'Service Before Self' and the summary below it. The purpose of our organization is to bring together business and professional leaders to provide humanitarian service, encourage high ethical standards in all vocations, and help build goodwill and peace in the world.
Mallet groaned out loud "Crappy transmitter is cutting in and out. I'm getting a case of dead ass. I'll wonder in and find The Sparrow, ah well now I can hear him. flirting with Olivia, well that is normal. Any man that has a pulse would want to get to know Olivia Spencer."
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Statuesque Dr. Felicia Boudreau glided into the Beacon bar. She unintentionally overheard.
"Study it as in at University, No it was more like therapy, I'm mad, well the correct term is Bipolar with paranoia, and personality disorder, I prefer mad though it sounds nicer than insane and not as clinical as Bipolar. As long as I take my medication I'm fine.
Felicia Boudreau, waited three heart beats before turning around and re-entering the lobby.
"May I use the phone please. I need to call a colleague" Felicia informed the clerk.
"Doctor Christopher Langham please. Christopher, Lizzie is off the reservation and in Spencer's Hotel. I'll try and corral her in. You need to get here to help me. Bring your medical bag."
The good doctor signaled the clerk. "Art is Ms. Spencer in the hotel?"
Art's brown eyes lit-up with comprehension. His normaly swarthy complextion paled noticeably. "She and Ms. Rivera went to their offices to meet with a client, Mrs. Tillman. I have not seen them in the lobby. I'll run interference and try and keep Ms. Spencer away from the bar. Ms. Rivera will roast me if I allow the boss to get stressed over a Spaulding sighting." Art pulled at his tie and then readjusted it.
Tony Mallet looked sharp in his charcoal grey wool suit, white shirt, black tie, creased slacks and just shined shoes. His eyes flickered over to the piano bench's occupants. There was nothing unintentional regarding Mallet's observation of the conversation.
He ran his a hand though his hair and fiddled with his ear. He tapped a tiny flesh colored hearing aide.
He eyed Arron Passera, an borrowed FBI asset. Passera was tall, tan, turned out in a single breasted jack, black dress shirt, matching black paints his red silk tie and matching trifolded handkerchief shimmered when he moved.
Mallet sighed to himself. "Insomnia is not an excuse to work at home. It was just that the Hate Crime angle irked me. Greg's a queer duck, but Springfield had a pond of odd characters. Whatever type of crime, The Bureau protects those in the witness protection."
Mallet adjusted his focus internalizing "A Spaulding thinks he's a hit man. Fuck my life how did this happen? The guy blows in from Chicago last night and he is already mixed up with Spencer and Lizzie."
Arron Passera asked indifferently "Your friend, could be correct. Do you have a name?
"Spencer. Olivia Spencer, She is rather inconvenient." Lizzie replied brightly.
"Inconvenient, as in she is a fly in your ointment? She pisses in your cereal? She ruins your schemes and dreams? She rains on your parade? " Arron Passera quipped.
"Most of that. She would never piss in my cereal but she did danced on my father's grave, she came between my parents reconsideration and was a wedge between my father, and grandfather. Oh and she married my first love Bill." Lizzie groused back. "I want a little payback, a side of vengeance served cold." Lizzie hissed out.
"I would rethink your need for retribution. Her long time associate Tony Santos' can reach beyond the grave. I suggest you avoid her, and take up something less dangerous then revenge like sky diving." He teased.
Lizzie grinned and slip him a card. "Call me. I'm easy, you could come up with some suggestions, nothing lethal. Something stressful would do. T-T-F-N, Ta Ta For Now!" Lizzie rose looked directly at Dr. Boudreau, and Dr. Langham waved and skipped out the side exit.
"Hey Mister piano guy, can you more play show tunes." Doris Wolfe roared.
She sauntered in, making a beeline for a seat at the bar. "I'll have an old fashion, Jim Beam, skip the cherry, and light on the sugar."
Mallet saddled up along side of the piano. He smiled and placed a few dollars and a card into the brandy snifter on top of the upright piano. Mallet winked then walked back thought the lobby out to the parking lot and a nondescript panel white van.
"Show tunes coming up." Arron crooned.
Arron's appearance hinted at his bad boy charms. The dark complexioned, honeyed voiced man played at the keys finally settling on, "If I Were a Bell"
"Ask me...how do I feel,
Ask me now that we're cosy and clinging!
Well, sir, all I can say
Is if I were a bell I'd be ringing !
From the moment we kissed tonight
That's the way I just got to behave
Boy, if I were a lamp I'd light!
And if I were a banner I'd wave
Ask me how do I feel
Little me with my quiet upbringing
Well, sir, all I can say
Is if I were a gate I'd be swinging !
And if I were a watch I'd start
Popping my spring...
Oh, if I were a bell
I'd go ding-dong-ding-dong-ding"
Percussion rhythms of the piano tumbled and bounced into the lobby. Dr. Boudreau, and Dr. Langham ran for the lobby street exit, as Olivia, Natalia and Esther Tillman disembarked from the elevator. Esther Tillman took the hoteliers hand and pulled her towards the banquet rooms. The Latina trailed behind the older women.
"You must see how your staff transformed the room. I adore the mirrors and pedestal globe lamps. The room looks huge yet intimate. I appreciate Your Greg Parker coming in for the run through tonight. " Esther Tillman enthused.
Natalia responded. "He insisted. It is not everyday that someone celebrates twenty-five years of marriage. Speaking of celebrating and Greg, Olivia did you see we are invited to his and Sarah's coming home party Friday night?"