Darien is running. Sweat is pouring down his face as his feet pound the street hard, but he feels ecstatic. The burglary went smoother than silk. Not a trap was tripped or an alarm was harmed, as the professionals would say. "This is the last job I pull for you, Arnaud. I don't care how much money you throw at me." Darien turns his head to the man running next to him. Arnaud smiles at Darien, who in turn smiles back. "One of these days, my friend, it'll be just you and me and a couple of bikini-clad beauties on a tropical beach with more money than we can spend," Arnaud says to Darien, "What do you say, partner?" Just then, Darien pitches forward and awakens from the dream. He is sitting up, breathing hard and clutching his chest. He feels as if he really had been running. His eyes sweep quickly over his room, making sure that he was dreaming. The clock next to his bed reads 10:00am. "Aww crap," Darien sighs as he lets himself fall back onto his pillow.
****
Milk dribbles down Darien's chin as he scoops another large spoonful of Chocolate-Frosted Sugar Bombs into his mouth. He crunches the cereal hard, as there is more cereal in the bowl than milk. If it weren't for the fact that he was eating over the sink, Darien would have made a big mess. Life is good. That dream, however, was more of a nightmare than he would have liked. The bad part was they were getting more frequent as the nights past. At least he got today off. A day off is what he really needed after the last assignment. Darien thinks back briefly on how the plan played out like it did. For once, Hobbes' paranoia paid off. "Sometimes," he thinks, "I underestimate the little fella." Darien finishes his cereal and drinks the milk from the bowl. As he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, he ponders the great philosopher Doris Day, "Whatever will be, will be."
****
He was very tempted to go out and "play", but with the Agency closed up, he'd have no access to counteragent. "Can't go into QM today. They'll know why and keep me under lock and key to get me under control," he thought sadly. However, being "up to something" was exactly what he wanted to do. Days like this he was just itching to pull a job, any job, especially now that he has a special toy to use. "What good is it to have invisibility, if you can't use it?" He pondered this often. Some of the fun things he used to do with the quicksilver have been done to death. Having his arm "severed" in the hood of a car, parking in the handicap spot at the mall, getting into the movies without paying, all of this has gotten old. As Darien thinks about how he wants to spend his day, he throws on a pair of jeans and a shirt that smells clean enough to wear. The clock reads 11:30AM. "Almost noon," he says, "Might as well grab a Big Mac and head over to the park. Maybe I can harass the mime some more." That idea brings an instant smile to his face.
****
Darien takes another huge bite out of his sandwich as he walks through the park. He looks around casually, drinking in the people around him and making mental notes about them. "Mother with kid and unattended shopping bag. Nah, probably full of diapers. Business chick sittin' on blanket, unattended purse. Possible, very possible. Joggers. No pockets, no cash." As he looks for a good mark (not that he intends to rob anyone, but it never hurts to keep the senses sharp, he tells himself), he spots the back of an overweight man sitting on a park bench. "Now that looks promising," he tells himself as he stuffs the last bite of the sandwich into his mouth. He follows the trail around the park. The path he is on would go right past the obviously, lonely man. Slowly, as the man on the bench comes into full view, Darien thinks that this particular "mark" looks very familiar. Suddenly, as if hit in the gut, he stops short. "Is that the 'Fish?" He talks a longer look. It is. "What is he doing out here?", Darien wonders. He notes that the Official is just sitting there, as if in a trance or deep thought. "Well, I'll be! The ol' boy is human after all," he thinks to himself. Darien starts to approach the Official, but then looks more at his face. The Official has the look of a man who just found out someone close to him has died. Obviously, this is not the time to ask for a raise or tell him a joke. Before Darien can decide what he should say to him, the Official gets up and starts to walk in his direction. Darien, thinking quickly, looks around to see that no one is around, steps to the side and quicksilvers. The Official walks right past him with the same trace-like expression on his face. Darien reappears once he is sure that the Official is a safe distance away. "This doesn't look good," and Darien proceeds to follow the Official out of the park.
****
Milk dribbles down Darien's chin as he scoops another large spoonful of Chocolate-Frosted Sugar Bombs into his mouth. He crunches the cereal hard, as there is more cereal in the bowl than milk. If it weren't for the fact that he was eating over the sink, Darien would have made a big mess. Life is good. That dream, however, was more of a nightmare than he would have liked. The bad part was they were getting more frequent as the nights past. At least he got today off. A day off is what he really needed after the last assignment. Darien thinks back briefly on how the plan played out like it did. For once, Hobbes' paranoia paid off. "Sometimes," he thinks, "I underestimate the little fella." Darien finishes his cereal and drinks the milk from the bowl. As he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, he ponders the great philosopher Doris Day, "Whatever will be, will be."
****
He was very tempted to go out and "play", but with the Agency closed up, he'd have no access to counteragent. "Can't go into QM today. They'll know why and keep me under lock and key to get me under control," he thought sadly. However, being "up to something" was exactly what he wanted to do. Days like this he was just itching to pull a job, any job, especially now that he has a special toy to use. "What good is it to have invisibility, if you can't use it?" He pondered this often. Some of the fun things he used to do with the quicksilver have been done to death. Having his arm "severed" in the hood of a car, parking in the handicap spot at the mall, getting into the movies without paying, all of this has gotten old. As Darien thinks about how he wants to spend his day, he throws on a pair of jeans and a shirt that smells clean enough to wear. The clock reads 11:30AM. "Almost noon," he says, "Might as well grab a Big Mac and head over to the park. Maybe I can harass the mime some more." That idea brings an instant smile to his face.
****
Darien takes another huge bite out of his sandwich as he walks through the park. He looks around casually, drinking in the people around him and making mental notes about them. "Mother with kid and unattended shopping bag. Nah, probably full of diapers. Business chick sittin' on blanket, unattended purse. Possible, very possible. Joggers. No pockets, no cash." As he looks for a good mark (not that he intends to rob anyone, but it never hurts to keep the senses sharp, he tells himself), he spots the back of an overweight man sitting on a park bench. "Now that looks promising," he tells himself as he stuffs the last bite of the sandwich into his mouth. He follows the trail around the park. The path he is on would go right past the obviously, lonely man. Slowly, as the man on the bench comes into full view, Darien thinks that this particular "mark" looks very familiar. Suddenly, as if hit in the gut, he stops short. "Is that the 'Fish?" He talks a longer look. It is. "What is he doing out here?", Darien wonders. He notes that the Official is just sitting there, as if in a trance or deep thought. "Well, I'll be! The ol' boy is human after all," he thinks to himself. Darien starts to approach the Official, but then looks more at his face. The Official has the look of a man who just found out someone close to him has died. Obviously, this is not the time to ask for a raise or tell him a joke. Before Darien can decide what he should say to him, the Official gets up and starts to walk in his direction. Darien, thinking quickly, looks around to see that no one is around, steps to the side and quicksilvers. The Official walks right past him with the same trace-like expression on his face. Darien reappears once he is sure that the Official is a safe distance away. "This doesn't look good," and Darien proceeds to follow the Official out of the park.
