Three Bricks Shy-Alias, PG-13 (A touch of the occult and some humor)
Peregrine
Alias is owned by ABC, Touchstone, and is the creation of JJ Abrams and Bad Robot Productions
Vaughn visits his crazy aunt Trish.
*****
Chapter Three
Eric hovered over me with his yo-yo and showered me with garlic and beer fumes. "When's she coming in?"
"I haven't asked her yet." I stared at my reflection in the polished face of my watch. All frown lines and no smile. Definitely not good for my mental health.
"What are you waiting for?" His latest hobby was driving me crazy, but it was better than biting his nails and spitting them at the waste basket. "You got the clearance, right?"
"Yeah." The pit bull was turning my ankle into raw meat, and the longer I waited, the worse it would be.
"So what's the problem?" Weiss nearly beaned me with his toy as he attempted a death-defying maneuver.
I jumped to my feet and decided it was safer to pace than put myself in the line of fire. "My aunt and I aren't exactly close. I mean, the last time I saw her was at my college graduation." I fondled my watch, not wanting to admit that 12 years had come and gone since my college days.
"Did Trish give you that watch?" Eric asked idly, staring at my fingers as they stroked the links on the wristband.
"How'd you know?" Wait, was this a trick question? You never could tell with Weiss.
He smiled mischievously. "Because it's permanently grafted to you and every time you talk about Trish…..you get this weird note in your voice, like maybe she's something special but it's not cool to admit it."
I sank back into my chair with a sigh. "Trish is…..how do I say this? The family black sheep? It's not just the occult crap, although that certainly drove a major wedge between her and my grandfather."
"Was it religion?" Eric knew all about this. His sister had married a Gentile and his parents still hadn't forgiven her.
"Partly. But it had more to do with my grandparents getting divorced. My mother moved past it but Trish was never able to forgive her father for leaving. She left home at 15 and had her name changed to Moreau. It's been over thirty years, and they're still not on speaking terms. As for me…..she seems fond of me for some reason," I said with a shrug.
"What's Trish look like….if you don't mind my asking?" Weiss was forever on the prowl, and age was no barrier. If she walked and talked and looked halfway decent, he was in like Flynn.
Trish's image flitted into my mind and I knew I shouldn't share it with Eric. I mean, my aunt was a total babe. She'd caused a stir among my horny friends at graduation and before the weekend was over, she'd walked away with half a dozen phone numbers. That was a dozen years ago, and even though she had to be pushing 50, my gut told me she looked as good as ever. My family had a way of growing into their looks and ripening with age, and Trish was a dead ringer for my gorgeous grandmother. "She's umm….look, maybe I better call her and get this over with."
"Why are you avoiding the question?" Weiss was intrigued enough to toss his yo-yo down on the table and I knew I was in trouble. "Is she that hideous? Does she have warts on her face and hair growing out of her chin?"
I sputtered with laughter. "Not exactly. But she's not….your type."
"Who cares?" Eric really didn't care, but I did. Trish would eat him alive.
I couldn't suppress the smile that spilled onto my lips. "Trust me, you don't want to mess with my aunt."
"Sounds good to me. What's her number?" Weiss asked eagerly with his cell phone ready and waiting.
I saw through his game and knew why he was doing it. Time and time again, Eric found ways to offset my fears and worries with his bold and cheerful personality and by focusing our conversation on his carnal interests, he gave me the courage to follow through on my original plan. After throwing him a look that told him I was on to him, I retrieved her number from my cell phone's memory and finally let the call go through.
*******
Peregrine
Alias is owned by ABC, Touchstone, and is the creation of JJ Abrams and Bad Robot Productions
Vaughn visits his crazy aunt Trish.
*****
Chapter Three
Eric hovered over me with his yo-yo and showered me with garlic and beer fumes. "When's she coming in?"
"I haven't asked her yet." I stared at my reflection in the polished face of my watch. All frown lines and no smile. Definitely not good for my mental health.
"What are you waiting for?" His latest hobby was driving me crazy, but it was better than biting his nails and spitting them at the waste basket. "You got the clearance, right?"
"Yeah." The pit bull was turning my ankle into raw meat, and the longer I waited, the worse it would be.
"So what's the problem?" Weiss nearly beaned me with his toy as he attempted a death-defying maneuver.
I jumped to my feet and decided it was safer to pace than put myself in the line of fire. "My aunt and I aren't exactly close. I mean, the last time I saw her was at my college graduation." I fondled my watch, not wanting to admit that 12 years had come and gone since my college days.
"Did Trish give you that watch?" Eric asked idly, staring at my fingers as they stroked the links on the wristband.
"How'd you know?" Wait, was this a trick question? You never could tell with Weiss.
He smiled mischievously. "Because it's permanently grafted to you and every time you talk about Trish…..you get this weird note in your voice, like maybe she's something special but it's not cool to admit it."
I sank back into my chair with a sigh. "Trish is…..how do I say this? The family black sheep? It's not just the occult crap, although that certainly drove a major wedge between her and my grandfather."
"Was it religion?" Eric knew all about this. His sister had married a Gentile and his parents still hadn't forgiven her.
"Partly. But it had more to do with my grandparents getting divorced. My mother moved past it but Trish was never able to forgive her father for leaving. She left home at 15 and had her name changed to Moreau. It's been over thirty years, and they're still not on speaking terms. As for me…..she seems fond of me for some reason," I said with a shrug.
"What's Trish look like….if you don't mind my asking?" Weiss was forever on the prowl, and age was no barrier. If she walked and talked and looked halfway decent, he was in like Flynn.
Trish's image flitted into my mind and I knew I shouldn't share it with Eric. I mean, my aunt was a total babe. She'd caused a stir among my horny friends at graduation and before the weekend was over, she'd walked away with half a dozen phone numbers. That was a dozen years ago, and even though she had to be pushing 50, my gut told me she looked as good as ever. My family had a way of growing into their looks and ripening with age, and Trish was a dead ringer for my gorgeous grandmother. "She's umm….look, maybe I better call her and get this over with."
"Why are you avoiding the question?" Weiss was intrigued enough to toss his yo-yo down on the table and I knew I was in trouble. "Is she that hideous? Does she have warts on her face and hair growing out of her chin?"
I sputtered with laughter. "Not exactly. But she's not….your type."
"Who cares?" Eric really didn't care, but I did. Trish would eat him alive.
I couldn't suppress the smile that spilled onto my lips. "Trust me, you don't want to mess with my aunt."
"Sounds good to me. What's her number?" Weiss asked eagerly with his cell phone ready and waiting.
I saw through his game and knew why he was doing it. Time and time again, Eric found ways to offset my fears and worries with his bold and cheerful personality and by focusing our conversation on his carnal interests, he gave me the courage to follow through on my original plan. After throwing him a look that told him I was on to him, I retrieved her number from my cell phone's memory and finally let the call go through.
*******