Chapter 7
How annoying can one over-cheerful elf be?
Disclaimer: Hahaha! I actually wrote a disclaimer! Every thing belongs to someone else, most notably Mercedes Lackey, nothing belongs to me, except maybe my new track shoes... anyway. I don't want to get sued for this 'cause that would suck and it would be pretty stupid anyway since I don't have any money. Reason being I blow it all on sunglasses and watches that I lose and then I buy more and I lose them too... that happened to me recently. Yeah. Consider my disclaimer stated.
Editors Note: HA!
Authors Note: Ok. SOMEONE is on something. Wink wink, nudge nudge.
Editors other Note: Okay then folks, just thought I'd let you know, I wrote most of this chapter so it is bound to suck. I say most because Llyraen had to go over it multiple times and fix it, insert happenings, get rid of happenings, correct my spelling... that's part of why it took so long, in essence, it had to be heavily edited due to extreme cliché and Mary Sueish-ness. In fact, it is still extremely cliché and Mary Sueish. Oh yeah, and the end is pretty lame. We seriously need help here.
Authors second Note: Yeah. We apologize for taking so long, and we want to get your feedback on our style so we can get better at writing. It's way more fun to write when you get responses and constructive criticism. Your input is welcome, there is only so much the two of us can think of happening, and when we run out of ideas we just kind of get really bad. (And right now we desperately need some new ideas.) Carry on.
Mutual Last note of the entire note section: Sorry this took so long to get up, My internet connection in Fiji is crap, (Like trying to use a cell phone inside a submarine under the north pole to contact someone in South America.), and apparently Sarima and AOL have some differences, so she has to go to the library to get this on the site, and so it will take us longer than usual to get a chapter up. (Like, don't expect immediate updateishness in any way, shape, or form. Sometimes I can't even GET this to Sarima.) Jeeze, the complexity of life.
CHAPTER 7:
Llyraen Seaeyes, terror of the racing world, sauntered once again through the doorway and into Keighvin's office, holding a piece of toast in one hand and glass of Florida's own natural in the other.
"Oh Keighvin!" She sang, grinning as he looked up from his work to scowl darkly at her.
"What do you want this time, Lil? That is what you're making everyone call you now, tisn't it?"
'Lil' smirked. "I need something to do. Scrubbing the steel toilets with a toothbrush has lost its glamour. And I finished them all anyway."
Keighvin snorted. "Alright, you're testing some new wheels this weekend. Tannim'll be back then and that's what he'll be doing too. Oh, and by the way, Al's coming up to help us out for a while." He casually dropped that bombshell with the air of a person informing her that one of the recently cleaned toilets had overflowed and needed to be taken care of.
"That's nice. I'm sure we'll all appreciate his assistance." Llyraen accepted toilet duty calmly. If that were the way Keighvin wanted to do things she'd play along.
"I'll be going boss. Anything else?"
"Hell no d'you think I'm crazy? You just offered t' leave my office!" Keighvin glared at Fairgrove's number one problem employee. "Go ahead and leave. An' if you still need more t' do, I'm sure Conal would be glad t' arrange something." He grinned evilly. Conal loved giving Llyraen odd jobs for no apparent reason, and they were always the worst he could find. Like the steel toilets.
Once out of Keighvin's office and line of sight, Llyraen did a little jig. "Yesyesyes!" Al was coming up. That was good, but Llyraen couldn't help but wonder if she had been around humans too much, and if they're hasty emotions were rubbing off on her.
Wandering out to the track, she waved at a couple of people and approached Sven the Swedish mechanic with unfortunately justified caution.
"Hello Sven!" Rule number one, be cheerful and maybe they'll have forgotten the fact that you accidentally stole the precious toolbox Sven the senior gave them that had been handed down for generations upon generations. Hah.
"Lil." Sven scowled darkly. "Don't think I've forgotten your infraction. You still have to paint my house, wash my car, and baby-sit my kids for a weekend before I can forgive you." Sven smiled, displaying a mouth full of big, strong, white teeth. To date Llyraen had fixed every appliance in his house, all his furniture, made a playhouse for his kids, and built a new kitchen table for him. After all, that toolbox WAS a family heirloom. Llyraen just grinned.
"Of course Sven. I was just wondering what color you and Lola wanted your house, and if you wanted to go somewhere next weekend without the kids. I think I can work in washing your car sometime Monday, but I can't be sure. After all, I do have to work." She winked exaggeratedly. Monday she was doing next to nothing. "And I have a list of all the original penalty chores, so don't think you can slip another one in."
Sven just grunted. Llyraen bared her teeth in an enormous smile. "I'm so glad we can put the past behind us. Some people are just so materially centered that they never forget things like that. It's so nice to finally deal with someone that understands the importance of harmony in the workplace."
Sven's grumpy facade cracked for a moment and he laughed. "Get out of here you troublemaker! I have work to do."
And so did Llyraen. She wouldn't be doing test-driving until the next day, but she could always put in some manual labor time for the track maintenance crew, and there was always paperwork if she got REALY desperate. Not Likely.
She kenned some dirty work type clothes and wandered over to where Dotty was ordering around the motley group of volunteers and miscreants that were laboring on matters of track maintenance.
"Oh, Lil. It's you again. Just you of curiosity, what did you do this time?" Dotty grinned expectantly at Llyraen, who was assigned maintenance detail often due to a difficulty with following orders and a habit of irritating the wrong people. Like Keighvin. Or Conal. Or Sven.
"Nothing actually." Llyraen smiled back. "I'm volunteering since I don't have anything official to do until tomorrow and everyone else is already sick of me."
Dotty nodded her head sympathetically. "You do seem to have that effect on people. It's all the energy and cheerfulness. You should try to be grumpy sometimes. Or at least tired. Anyway. You can repaint for a while until it clears up a bit or you want to do something else. Or leave. Since you're a volunteer you can leave at anytime."
"Such luxury!" Llyraen saluted, grabbed some painting materials and set to work, Dotty shaking her head at the irrepressible elf.
As it neared noon and became too hot for any sane or penalty-free individual to be on the black track-cement, Llyraen surrendered her tools to the less fortunate and appropriated a shower. After ridding herself of multiple layers of dust, sweat, and paint, she vigorously toweled herself off and pulled on some clean clothes.
Feeling much refreshed, she strolled into the kitchen for some nourishment and ran into Siobhan, another of the semi-resident sidhe at Fairgrove.
"Hello Lil." He almost called her by her full name, but clamped down on it quickly, grinning. There were other groups using the Fairgrove track, like Goodyear, and Llyraen wanted a semi-normal name to avoid undue suspicion.
"Howdy Siobhan. How had your morning been?"
He winced. "There's a big group coming by tomorrow- interested in our engine blocks, so we've had to go over every thing two and three times to make sure it looks plausible enough to satisfy them."
"I could have helped if I had known!" Llyraen let her voice fall into a petulant whine.
"Hah. You have absolutely no patience that anyone has ever seen, and Keighvin did na want anything blown up." Siobhan turned a wry smile in her direction to soften his words and she allowed herself to be mollified.
"You play polo, right?" Llyraen asked, in a lightning quick change of conversation.
"Hmmmmm. Yes, I do. Do you also think it useless, like everyone else?" There was apprehension in his voice, mingled with resignation.
"No," She replied thoughtfully, "I don't. For one thing, I heard about how successful you, Padraig, and Sean have been in various fights applying polo tactics. For another, most of what I do is considered by the more serious minded to be useless, you know, running, soccer, football, paintball, flying, painting, playing cards."
"You mean cheating at cards!" He interrupted, grinning. "I would'na play against you for all the gold in Underhill."
Llyraen just smiled smugly. "Just because I win... anyway, the point is that I would be hypocritical to call almost any entertaining occupation useless. The point is that even though these occupations offer no immediate business or monetary results or obviously useful skills, I find them enjoyable, and without them I would surely go mad. Just like Keighvin."
"And you are trying to tell me that you are not already mad. Right." Siobhan laughed again.
"You know what they say- Every genius is just a tad loose in the box. I suppose I am no exception." She preened and smiled, arching one eyebrow and wiggling her nose at him in a comical expression. "Well, I have to go. I've got some business in town that canna wait. See you around?" She posed it as a question, since the Sidhe, with the notable exception of Keighvin, could and did leave at a moments notice.
"Yes- we'll be around for a while, but there's a polo tournament up north in a couple months." He winked at her. "Perhaps you would care to learn?"
Eyes twinkling mischievously, Llyraen nodded. "Actually, I'd be quite pleased. I've always wanted to play polo, and it just might improve my right-hand coordination.
Siobhan grinned. "Till later."
"Till later."
Llyraen did indeed have plans in town that afternoon- plans that could not be postponed.
Driving down the streets of Savannah, Llyraen peered intently around her at the changing scenery, the art students present in most of it, garbed black clothing of ridiculous fit and tragically morose expressions. Smiling to herself, she realized that they were on the famous cobblestone streets of Savannah proper, and Aodhfin had loosened the suspension for an easier and less damaging ride. He snaked through the traffic; grabbing a parking spot near the Irish pub Tannim had told Llyraen about, just ahead of an irritable suit. :HaHa! Sucker!: Llyraen thought gleefully. :Too bad YOU don't have a smart car!: Then she grimaced in momentary irritation. Too much of her information was coming from Tannim these days, and she was owing him quite a bit already.
She shrugged philosophically and bailed out, patting Aodhfin on the hood affectionately as she took to the sidewalk.
Her first impression of Kevin Barry's was good. It was the real McCoy, not one of those 'Hollywood Irish' places, and she liked the music, a nice blend of modern and traditional, plus having the added bonus of having BAGPIPES. That immediately put anything into a favorable light in her mind.
Having eaten and relaxed, listening to the music for a bit, she paid her bill, and walked to the door, nodding impartially to various people along the way. Once outside, she headed determinedly back to Aodhfin, and pulled out, driving slowly further into the city. She got out her cell phone and auto-dialed a number, grimacing once again at having to go on a suggestion of Tannim's. He was the one who had gotten her involved in the 'On the streets' part of helping the children. It was Tannim who had gotten her all her contacts, and Tannim who had shown her how to work with the law as opposed to around it. Tannim Tannim Tannim. Her musings were interrupted when the phone was answered.
"Hello?"
"Heya Jimbo. Seathorn here. I needa favor." She grinned into the phone as her federal contact groaned.
"You're gonna owe me big time pretty soon, Seathorn. What's the info?"
"I already owe you big time. I want a suspected locale on a kid. Mother is Tienda Andrews, currently living in LA, kids name is Dervyn, possibly of same last name, possibly of Hart. H,A,R,T. Age 15, natural black hair, as far as we know. Blue eyes, golden brown complexion. Supposedly in Savannah or a nearby area. If you can hang out near your fax machine in your office I can type it up for you in a half an hour."
"Right. 2:30 to 2:45, if not, I'll call."
"Thanks Jimbo, guess I owe ya another."
"Guess you do. And you know I'll remember it."
"Of course. I would expect no less of one of you high and mighty Federal agents.
"2:30"
"Right. Talk to ya later."
Llyraen put her cell phone back and pulled into a spot near a city park, kenned her laptop, complete with fax applications, and wandered off to find a suitable bench from which to write her report to Jimbo. When she finished, she checked her watch and frowned irritably. It was not yet 2:30, and she could not chance anyone besides Jimbo getting the info. The FBI was infinitely corruptible, and only her multiple crosschecks on Jimbo assured her that HE was alright. Whatever she did, she did NOT want to put Dervyn in any more danger than he already was. Instead, she fished up a couple of the files she had accumulated on some of LA's biggest drug lords, and wrote an attachment explaining and asking if Jimbo's division dealt in west coast stuff. By that time it was 2:33 and she sent the whole package through, waiting for confirmation.
It came- her cell rang and she unhooked it from her belt and put it to her ear.
"Howdy."
"Seathorn, I gotta meet you in person soon. We've been looking for those two drug kings for a long time now. Where the hell did you get your info?" Jimbo's voice was sharp. Llyraen winced at once again putting her foot in it.
Think fast, think really fast. She mentally berated herself for her obtuseness.
"I did some undercover stuff over there. Ever heard of Raphael Montoya? Carmen Diaglo? Shady Korskoff? Those were all my catches. Probably others too that I can't think of at the moment, but I have to watch my back. Things got a bit hot over in California, especially when the boss got promoted and the new guy had an extra source of income if you get my meaning."
"Yeah. So your new boss was dirty, tried to shut you down, and you skipped town? I suppose things would be a bit warm." Jimbo sounded a tad bit faint. "Well, how about tomorrow afternoon?"
So, her explanation had held. And it was partly true, as well. HA HA HA! Back to business.
"Can't. I've got a full weekend, but Monday, Wednesday, or Thursday would be OK if we get it scheduled now."
"Monday evening be hard? I've got to hook up with the LA group for that stuff Tuesday and out, and I want as much info as possible."
"Alright. How does 8:00 sound? D'ya know of any good bars with edible food? We can be a couple of old Harley Huggers getting together to reminisce over old times." Llyraen grinned deviously, as she loved acting.
"Yeah, Riley's on Mason street has good food and great beer. You're a motorcycle rider?! You mean you're one of those leather and bandana type chicks?!"
Llyraen laughed. "No, not at the moment, and I won't be then either. I'm gonna have a beard. Probably gray and bushy, long hair. A grizzled old tough who can't let go of the past. That is, if that guise appeals to you and you have the resources to employ it."
"Of course! How bout I'll have the bartender point me out to you. Just ask him where Jimbo's hanging and he'll tell ya. You can trust him, he's one of the incoruptibles."
"You have a greater faith in humanities incorruptibility than I." Llyraen modified her voice to be light, but warning.
"This one I'm sure of. He's my dad."
"Gotcha. Alrighty, Monday, 8:00 PM, at Riley's on Mason. Hah! This should be fun."
"Indeed. This will at least partly pay your debt to me. C'ya."
"How wonderful. Later." Llyraen hung up again and decided to wander around the park a bit, she hadn't been to one of Savannah's 'natural' oases for a while, and liked studying the people that went there. Especially the art students, they were a continuous mystery to her.
After a while she headed back over to Aodhfin and they began the drive back to Fairgrove to see if there was anything left for her to do there. Llyraen was not really paying attention, thinking instead of Al. She was, of course, having second thoughts about the situation. She didn't really know how he felt about her, she had only met him once, and maybe she had read more into his actions than was really there. Filled with doubt, she let Aodhfin drive himself, trusting to his knowledge of the road to get them safely there, and was surprised out of her reverie when they turned off the main road and went to her trailer rather than continuing on to Fairgrove.
"Wha- A- what the hell are we doing here?" She sensed Aodhfin's reproving thought colors. "Alright. I'll wait and see, but this better be for a good reason!" She relented. Aodhfin rarely did anything against her general wishes without a VERY good reason, Llyraen was the impulsive one, and Aodhfin was the one that got them out of the resulting trouble.
"Are you trying to tell me to get over myself again?" Llyraen chuckled as they maneuvered up the winding road leading to the racetrack personnel trailer park. There was a shortcut between the park and the track, but since Llyraen was coming from Savannah, it made more sense to go the 'long' way. Aodhfin wound their way through the park, and Llyraen fidgeted in her seat; they were going half her usual speed.
They pulled up next to Llyraen's trailer, and she noticed something attached to the door, fluttering fitfully in the breeze. She opened the car door and jumped out before Aodhfin came to a complete halt, and dashed up the fold out 'steps'.
The thing she had noticed on her door was a bouquet of flowers. Roses to be precise, gently swaying in the light wind, and there was a note attached, written in the flowery script of the Seleigh High Court. Llyraen opened it carefully with trembling hands.
Llyraen,
Would you join me for dinner Sunday night, and afterwards for a stroll through the famous rose gardens of O'Hara Park?
With Love,
Alinor
Llyraen blinked and re-read it again a couple of times, as if to assure herself of it's authenticity, not believing her eyes, but wanting desperately to. She smelled the roses, they were the beautiful fiery orange, yellow, and red kind, and idly remembered their name, Peace.
Behind here, she could feel Aodhfin's smugness radiating out to her, but was too happy to be irritated.
"I won't even ask what your part was in this." She snickered as the waves of smugness turned to shock and innocence. "You won't get me that easily, laddy me bucko!" I'll have you know after being around for a few hundred years, I'm not quite that gullible anymore!" She smiled again. "Oh well, whatever you did, however it happened, its still from Al. Yesyesyes!!!! Hahahahaha!!! I'm so happy! Lalalalala!!!"
She waved to Aodhfin, scooped up the roses, and waltzed merrily into her trailer.
.
How annoying can one over-cheerful elf be?
Disclaimer: Hahaha! I actually wrote a disclaimer! Every thing belongs to someone else, most notably Mercedes Lackey, nothing belongs to me, except maybe my new track shoes... anyway. I don't want to get sued for this 'cause that would suck and it would be pretty stupid anyway since I don't have any money. Reason being I blow it all on sunglasses and watches that I lose and then I buy more and I lose them too... that happened to me recently. Yeah. Consider my disclaimer stated.
Editors Note: HA!
Authors Note: Ok. SOMEONE is on something. Wink wink, nudge nudge.
Editors other Note: Okay then folks, just thought I'd let you know, I wrote most of this chapter so it is bound to suck. I say most because Llyraen had to go over it multiple times and fix it, insert happenings, get rid of happenings, correct my spelling... that's part of why it took so long, in essence, it had to be heavily edited due to extreme cliché and Mary Sueish-ness. In fact, it is still extremely cliché and Mary Sueish. Oh yeah, and the end is pretty lame. We seriously need help here.
Authors second Note: Yeah. We apologize for taking so long, and we want to get your feedback on our style so we can get better at writing. It's way more fun to write when you get responses and constructive criticism. Your input is welcome, there is only so much the two of us can think of happening, and when we run out of ideas we just kind of get really bad. (And right now we desperately need some new ideas.) Carry on.
Mutual Last note of the entire note section: Sorry this took so long to get up, My internet connection in Fiji is crap, (Like trying to use a cell phone inside a submarine under the north pole to contact someone in South America.), and apparently Sarima and AOL have some differences, so she has to go to the library to get this on the site, and so it will take us longer than usual to get a chapter up. (Like, don't expect immediate updateishness in any way, shape, or form. Sometimes I can't even GET this to Sarima.) Jeeze, the complexity of life.
CHAPTER 7:
Llyraen Seaeyes, terror of the racing world, sauntered once again through the doorway and into Keighvin's office, holding a piece of toast in one hand and glass of Florida's own natural in the other.
"Oh Keighvin!" She sang, grinning as he looked up from his work to scowl darkly at her.
"What do you want this time, Lil? That is what you're making everyone call you now, tisn't it?"
'Lil' smirked. "I need something to do. Scrubbing the steel toilets with a toothbrush has lost its glamour. And I finished them all anyway."
Keighvin snorted. "Alright, you're testing some new wheels this weekend. Tannim'll be back then and that's what he'll be doing too. Oh, and by the way, Al's coming up to help us out for a while." He casually dropped that bombshell with the air of a person informing her that one of the recently cleaned toilets had overflowed and needed to be taken care of.
"That's nice. I'm sure we'll all appreciate his assistance." Llyraen accepted toilet duty calmly. If that were the way Keighvin wanted to do things she'd play along.
"I'll be going boss. Anything else?"
"Hell no d'you think I'm crazy? You just offered t' leave my office!" Keighvin glared at Fairgrove's number one problem employee. "Go ahead and leave. An' if you still need more t' do, I'm sure Conal would be glad t' arrange something." He grinned evilly. Conal loved giving Llyraen odd jobs for no apparent reason, and they were always the worst he could find. Like the steel toilets.
Once out of Keighvin's office and line of sight, Llyraen did a little jig. "Yesyesyes!" Al was coming up. That was good, but Llyraen couldn't help but wonder if she had been around humans too much, and if they're hasty emotions were rubbing off on her.
Wandering out to the track, she waved at a couple of people and approached Sven the Swedish mechanic with unfortunately justified caution.
"Hello Sven!" Rule number one, be cheerful and maybe they'll have forgotten the fact that you accidentally stole the precious toolbox Sven the senior gave them that had been handed down for generations upon generations. Hah.
"Lil." Sven scowled darkly. "Don't think I've forgotten your infraction. You still have to paint my house, wash my car, and baby-sit my kids for a weekend before I can forgive you." Sven smiled, displaying a mouth full of big, strong, white teeth. To date Llyraen had fixed every appliance in his house, all his furniture, made a playhouse for his kids, and built a new kitchen table for him. After all, that toolbox WAS a family heirloom. Llyraen just grinned.
"Of course Sven. I was just wondering what color you and Lola wanted your house, and if you wanted to go somewhere next weekend without the kids. I think I can work in washing your car sometime Monday, but I can't be sure. After all, I do have to work." She winked exaggeratedly. Monday she was doing next to nothing. "And I have a list of all the original penalty chores, so don't think you can slip another one in."
Sven just grunted. Llyraen bared her teeth in an enormous smile. "I'm so glad we can put the past behind us. Some people are just so materially centered that they never forget things like that. It's so nice to finally deal with someone that understands the importance of harmony in the workplace."
Sven's grumpy facade cracked for a moment and he laughed. "Get out of here you troublemaker! I have work to do."
And so did Llyraen. She wouldn't be doing test-driving until the next day, but she could always put in some manual labor time for the track maintenance crew, and there was always paperwork if she got REALY desperate. Not Likely.
She kenned some dirty work type clothes and wandered over to where Dotty was ordering around the motley group of volunteers and miscreants that were laboring on matters of track maintenance.
"Oh, Lil. It's you again. Just you of curiosity, what did you do this time?" Dotty grinned expectantly at Llyraen, who was assigned maintenance detail often due to a difficulty with following orders and a habit of irritating the wrong people. Like Keighvin. Or Conal. Or Sven.
"Nothing actually." Llyraen smiled back. "I'm volunteering since I don't have anything official to do until tomorrow and everyone else is already sick of me."
Dotty nodded her head sympathetically. "You do seem to have that effect on people. It's all the energy and cheerfulness. You should try to be grumpy sometimes. Or at least tired. Anyway. You can repaint for a while until it clears up a bit or you want to do something else. Or leave. Since you're a volunteer you can leave at anytime."
"Such luxury!" Llyraen saluted, grabbed some painting materials and set to work, Dotty shaking her head at the irrepressible elf.
As it neared noon and became too hot for any sane or penalty-free individual to be on the black track-cement, Llyraen surrendered her tools to the less fortunate and appropriated a shower. After ridding herself of multiple layers of dust, sweat, and paint, she vigorously toweled herself off and pulled on some clean clothes.
Feeling much refreshed, she strolled into the kitchen for some nourishment and ran into Siobhan, another of the semi-resident sidhe at Fairgrove.
"Hello Lil." He almost called her by her full name, but clamped down on it quickly, grinning. There were other groups using the Fairgrove track, like Goodyear, and Llyraen wanted a semi-normal name to avoid undue suspicion.
"Howdy Siobhan. How had your morning been?"
He winced. "There's a big group coming by tomorrow- interested in our engine blocks, so we've had to go over every thing two and three times to make sure it looks plausible enough to satisfy them."
"I could have helped if I had known!" Llyraen let her voice fall into a petulant whine.
"Hah. You have absolutely no patience that anyone has ever seen, and Keighvin did na want anything blown up." Siobhan turned a wry smile in her direction to soften his words and she allowed herself to be mollified.
"You play polo, right?" Llyraen asked, in a lightning quick change of conversation.
"Hmmmmm. Yes, I do. Do you also think it useless, like everyone else?" There was apprehension in his voice, mingled with resignation.
"No," She replied thoughtfully, "I don't. For one thing, I heard about how successful you, Padraig, and Sean have been in various fights applying polo tactics. For another, most of what I do is considered by the more serious minded to be useless, you know, running, soccer, football, paintball, flying, painting, playing cards."
"You mean cheating at cards!" He interrupted, grinning. "I would'na play against you for all the gold in Underhill."
Llyraen just smiled smugly. "Just because I win... anyway, the point is that I would be hypocritical to call almost any entertaining occupation useless. The point is that even though these occupations offer no immediate business or monetary results or obviously useful skills, I find them enjoyable, and without them I would surely go mad. Just like Keighvin."
"And you are trying to tell me that you are not already mad. Right." Siobhan laughed again.
"You know what they say- Every genius is just a tad loose in the box. I suppose I am no exception." She preened and smiled, arching one eyebrow and wiggling her nose at him in a comical expression. "Well, I have to go. I've got some business in town that canna wait. See you around?" She posed it as a question, since the Sidhe, with the notable exception of Keighvin, could and did leave at a moments notice.
"Yes- we'll be around for a while, but there's a polo tournament up north in a couple months." He winked at her. "Perhaps you would care to learn?"
Eyes twinkling mischievously, Llyraen nodded. "Actually, I'd be quite pleased. I've always wanted to play polo, and it just might improve my right-hand coordination.
Siobhan grinned. "Till later."
"Till later."
Llyraen did indeed have plans in town that afternoon- plans that could not be postponed.
Driving down the streets of Savannah, Llyraen peered intently around her at the changing scenery, the art students present in most of it, garbed black clothing of ridiculous fit and tragically morose expressions. Smiling to herself, she realized that they were on the famous cobblestone streets of Savannah proper, and Aodhfin had loosened the suspension for an easier and less damaging ride. He snaked through the traffic; grabbing a parking spot near the Irish pub Tannim had told Llyraen about, just ahead of an irritable suit. :HaHa! Sucker!: Llyraen thought gleefully. :Too bad YOU don't have a smart car!: Then she grimaced in momentary irritation. Too much of her information was coming from Tannim these days, and she was owing him quite a bit already.
She shrugged philosophically and bailed out, patting Aodhfin on the hood affectionately as she took to the sidewalk.
Her first impression of Kevin Barry's was good. It was the real McCoy, not one of those 'Hollywood Irish' places, and she liked the music, a nice blend of modern and traditional, plus having the added bonus of having BAGPIPES. That immediately put anything into a favorable light in her mind.
Having eaten and relaxed, listening to the music for a bit, she paid her bill, and walked to the door, nodding impartially to various people along the way. Once outside, she headed determinedly back to Aodhfin, and pulled out, driving slowly further into the city. She got out her cell phone and auto-dialed a number, grimacing once again at having to go on a suggestion of Tannim's. He was the one who had gotten her involved in the 'On the streets' part of helping the children. It was Tannim who had gotten her all her contacts, and Tannim who had shown her how to work with the law as opposed to around it. Tannim Tannim Tannim. Her musings were interrupted when the phone was answered.
"Hello?"
"Heya Jimbo. Seathorn here. I needa favor." She grinned into the phone as her federal contact groaned.
"You're gonna owe me big time pretty soon, Seathorn. What's the info?"
"I already owe you big time. I want a suspected locale on a kid. Mother is Tienda Andrews, currently living in LA, kids name is Dervyn, possibly of same last name, possibly of Hart. H,A,R,T. Age 15, natural black hair, as far as we know. Blue eyes, golden brown complexion. Supposedly in Savannah or a nearby area. If you can hang out near your fax machine in your office I can type it up for you in a half an hour."
"Right. 2:30 to 2:45, if not, I'll call."
"Thanks Jimbo, guess I owe ya another."
"Guess you do. And you know I'll remember it."
"Of course. I would expect no less of one of you high and mighty Federal agents.
"2:30"
"Right. Talk to ya later."
Llyraen put her cell phone back and pulled into a spot near a city park, kenned her laptop, complete with fax applications, and wandered off to find a suitable bench from which to write her report to Jimbo. When she finished, she checked her watch and frowned irritably. It was not yet 2:30, and she could not chance anyone besides Jimbo getting the info. The FBI was infinitely corruptible, and only her multiple crosschecks on Jimbo assured her that HE was alright. Whatever she did, she did NOT want to put Dervyn in any more danger than he already was. Instead, she fished up a couple of the files she had accumulated on some of LA's biggest drug lords, and wrote an attachment explaining and asking if Jimbo's division dealt in west coast stuff. By that time it was 2:33 and she sent the whole package through, waiting for confirmation.
It came- her cell rang and she unhooked it from her belt and put it to her ear.
"Howdy."
"Seathorn, I gotta meet you in person soon. We've been looking for those two drug kings for a long time now. Where the hell did you get your info?" Jimbo's voice was sharp. Llyraen winced at once again putting her foot in it.
Think fast, think really fast. She mentally berated herself for her obtuseness.
"I did some undercover stuff over there. Ever heard of Raphael Montoya? Carmen Diaglo? Shady Korskoff? Those were all my catches. Probably others too that I can't think of at the moment, but I have to watch my back. Things got a bit hot over in California, especially when the boss got promoted and the new guy had an extra source of income if you get my meaning."
"Yeah. So your new boss was dirty, tried to shut you down, and you skipped town? I suppose things would be a bit warm." Jimbo sounded a tad bit faint. "Well, how about tomorrow afternoon?"
So, her explanation had held. And it was partly true, as well. HA HA HA! Back to business.
"Can't. I've got a full weekend, but Monday, Wednesday, or Thursday would be OK if we get it scheduled now."
"Monday evening be hard? I've got to hook up with the LA group for that stuff Tuesday and out, and I want as much info as possible."
"Alright. How does 8:00 sound? D'ya know of any good bars with edible food? We can be a couple of old Harley Huggers getting together to reminisce over old times." Llyraen grinned deviously, as she loved acting.
"Yeah, Riley's on Mason street has good food and great beer. You're a motorcycle rider?! You mean you're one of those leather and bandana type chicks?!"
Llyraen laughed. "No, not at the moment, and I won't be then either. I'm gonna have a beard. Probably gray and bushy, long hair. A grizzled old tough who can't let go of the past. That is, if that guise appeals to you and you have the resources to employ it."
"Of course! How bout I'll have the bartender point me out to you. Just ask him where Jimbo's hanging and he'll tell ya. You can trust him, he's one of the incoruptibles."
"You have a greater faith in humanities incorruptibility than I." Llyraen modified her voice to be light, but warning.
"This one I'm sure of. He's my dad."
"Gotcha. Alrighty, Monday, 8:00 PM, at Riley's on Mason. Hah! This should be fun."
"Indeed. This will at least partly pay your debt to me. C'ya."
"How wonderful. Later." Llyraen hung up again and decided to wander around the park a bit, she hadn't been to one of Savannah's 'natural' oases for a while, and liked studying the people that went there. Especially the art students, they were a continuous mystery to her.
After a while she headed back over to Aodhfin and they began the drive back to Fairgrove to see if there was anything left for her to do there. Llyraen was not really paying attention, thinking instead of Al. She was, of course, having second thoughts about the situation. She didn't really know how he felt about her, she had only met him once, and maybe she had read more into his actions than was really there. Filled with doubt, she let Aodhfin drive himself, trusting to his knowledge of the road to get them safely there, and was surprised out of her reverie when they turned off the main road and went to her trailer rather than continuing on to Fairgrove.
"Wha- A- what the hell are we doing here?" She sensed Aodhfin's reproving thought colors. "Alright. I'll wait and see, but this better be for a good reason!" She relented. Aodhfin rarely did anything against her general wishes without a VERY good reason, Llyraen was the impulsive one, and Aodhfin was the one that got them out of the resulting trouble.
"Are you trying to tell me to get over myself again?" Llyraen chuckled as they maneuvered up the winding road leading to the racetrack personnel trailer park. There was a shortcut between the park and the track, but since Llyraen was coming from Savannah, it made more sense to go the 'long' way. Aodhfin wound their way through the park, and Llyraen fidgeted in her seat; they were going half her usual speed.
They pulled up next to Llyraen's trailer, and she noticed something attached to the door, fluttering fitfully in the breeze. She opened the car door and jumped out before Aodhfin came to a complete halt, and dashed up the fold out 'steps'.
The thing she had noticed on her door was a bouquet of flowers. Roses to be precise, gently swaying in the light wind, and there was a note attached, written in the flowery script of the Seleigh High Court. Llyraen opened it carefully with trembling hands.
Llyraen,
Would you join me for dinner Sunday night, and afterwards for a stroll through the famous rose gardens of O'Hara Park?
With Love,
Alinor
Llyraen blinked and re-read it again a couple of times, as if to assure herself of it's authenticity, not believing her eyes, but wanting desperately to. She smelled the roses, they were the beautiful fiery orange, yellow, and red kind, and idly remembered their name, Peace.
Behind here, she could feel Aodhfin's smugness radiating out to her, but was too happy to be irritated.
"I won't even ask what your part was in this." She snickered as the waves of smugness turned to shock and innocence. "You won't get me that easily, laddy me bucko!" I'll have you know after being around for a few hundred years, I'm not quite that gullible anymore!" She smiled again. "Oh well, whatever you did, however it happened, its still from Al. Yesyesyes!!!! Hahahahaha!!! I'm so happy! Lalalalala!!!"
She waved to Aodhfin, scooped up the roses, and waltzed merrily into her trailer.
.
