A/N: I feel like I must warn y'all that there is some OC/Daphne in this chapter. But believe me when I say you'll probably get more action from a Disney movie.
Chapter 5 - Still Life
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Original Cindy slowly strolled into Jam Pony after a typical run, ready for another one, but in no way intending to let Normal know that. As she walked down the ramp, she frowned, recognizing a familiar blonde sitting on one of the couches in the break area. "Kendra? Don't you got anything better to do than slum around this pit?"
Kendra turned away from the television she was watching and smiled. "Original Cindy. Good to see you, too."
"You didn't answer my question."
Kendra laughed, the gravelly sound of a lifelong chain smoker, or someone who liked to swallow glass. "Max called me, told me to haul ass over here."
OC blinked, surprised. "She did? Why?"
"Because I need your help," Max said from behind them.
Original Cindy turned and smiled at Max, whose fingers were tapping impatiently on her crossed arms. "You got a bee in your shorts, boo? 'Cuz you're looking a little itchy." At Max's eye roll, she asked, "What do you need help with?"
Max grit her teeth. "Shopping."
Original Cindy and Kendra looked first at each other, and then back to Max. Kendra hesitantly spoke, "You do have a good sense of style, Max, no offense, but…"
"Hard core shopping ain't the usual way you go about it," Original Cindy finished up for her. "What's the dealio here?"
Max mumbled something mostly unintelligible.
Kendra narrowed her eyes. "Did I just hear 'date' come from your mouth in that garbled mess?"
Original Cindy laughed gleefully as a scarlet flush rapidly spread up Max's neck and over her cheeks. "So Logan finally came down to earth and stepped to the real? Screw shopping; I'm gonna go buy me a lottery ticket."
"Would you mind saying it a little louder, please?" Max hissed. "And it's not a date, exactly. It's more of an…escort job." She groaned as Kendra and Original Cindy hooted with laughter at their thoughts of 'escort job.' "A wedding!!! He invited me to his cousin's wedding! God, would the two of you grow up?"
Kendra wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. "I'm sorry, but I just imagined…" She saw Max's pointed glare, and decided not to go any further. "Never mind."
"I'd love to help, boo, but how the hell are we going to get out from under the head asshole's radar?" Original Cindy asked, pointing out Normal at the main desk.
Max smiled. "I got it covered." She turned, and looked over by the lockers, where Sketchy was leaning, watching the three women. She gave him a nod and a small wave, and he nodded back.
Sketchy strode across the main part of Jam Pony, aimed directly at Sky, who was turning away from the main desk with several packages. A few steps were all it took for Sketchy to collide with the young man. Both fell, and Sketchy clutched at his face. "Ahhh!" He cried. "My eye! A package hit my eye! Sue! I'm gonna sue this place!"
Normal dashed out from behind the desk, diving on his knees by Sketchy, trying to pull Sketchy's hands away so he could get a good look at the damage.
Max turned back to Original Cindy and Kendra and raised a slim eyebrow. "Come on. Let's bounce." The three quickly hurried out the doors before Normal could notice them gone.
They laughed and talked about the incident all the way down to the upscale fashion district. Their laughter slowly faded away at the site of perfectly coiffed women meandering the streets with large shopping bags from expensive stores and walking their small fuzzy dogs. The three entered a store Max had picked at random, and couldn't help but gape at the tall columns and shining cases.
"You hear stories about places like this, but damn," Original Cindy muttered over the music that was softly piped in through the room.
"It's like the pulse never happened," Kendra agreed.
Max walked over to a dress that was entirely too sparkly for the occasion at hand. "What do you think?"
Kendra and Original Cindy just shook their heads and continued the lap of the store. Kendra couldn't help but sigh as she looked at all the dresses. "I love weddings."
"Never been to one," Max admitted.
"Seriously?" Kendra blinked in amazement as she saw Max was entirely serious. "There is nothing more romantic than two people pledging their hearts to each other 'til the day they die. Makes me incredibly horny."
Original Cindy rolled her eyes at the blonde. Some days, it seemed like only one thing was on her mind. "No, thank you. Knockin' the boot with the same person, day in, day out, for the rest of your life? I'm not even trying to hear that." It also made it a lot easier to explain away the revolving door of women that passed through her life.
Kendra gave OC a mild glare before looking at Max. "Don't listen to her. You are so gonna have a good time." The three came to stop in front of another dress. "Perfect."
Original Cindy agreed with Kendra. There were no frills to be found. No sparkles, no yards of girly lace. The bodice was made of small, netted flowers, and the skirt fell softly to the ground. The deep red looked as if it were made for Max's complexion, and the strapless nature wouldn't do anything but accentuate her friend's obscenely perfect figure. Original Cindy glanced at her friend, and could see the yearning in the young woman's eyes. She almost hated to dash her dreams with an unfortunate question. "Wonder how much cheddar they want for this bitch?"
"Logan's paying for this, right?" Kendra asked.
"It's not like he's my sugar daddy," Max replied, a little distracted as she continued to look at the dress.
Kendra glanced at Original Cindy. "Why not?"
Original Cindy had to work hard not to first agree with Kendra, and second defend Max and Logan. She'd been embroiled enough in their goings on lately to not want to start anything. Luckily, a saleswoman came over and provided a convenient interruption.
"Can I help you?" she asked.
"We're just browsing," Kendra replied in an attempt to be snooty.
Max gestured toward the dress. "How much is this?"
The saleswoman arched a slim eyebrow and eyed the three girls as though she were regarding an inferior specimen. "Six."
"Hundred?" Max asked, the hope not quite hidden in her voice.
"Thousand," was the reply, "It's an imported Raphael Banks original." There was an almost wicked glee in the explanation to the three street rats.
Original Cindy snorted, unable to believe the gall of some people. "Now that's just stupid." The sharp pain of Max's elbow in her side silenced any further remarks she wanted to make.
Max managed to look down her nose at the saleswoman, proving she could be just as highbrow as the best of them. "Could you put this on hold? I'm gonna come back for it later."
Surprise flashed through the woman's eyes. "Of course."
"Thank you," Max said primly. The three girls turned and walked – or skipped, in Kendra's case – out the door.
"Ow!" OC snapped, glaring at Max as soon as they got out of the shop. She pulled up her shirt to look for bruises. "Your bony elbow could take out a few internal organs, girl. You need to learn to pull your punches."
"That was pulled," Max muttered. "Look, I'm sorry. But I just didn't want your mouth to lose me that dress."
Kendra and Original Cindy looked at each other and grinned. "It got ya, didn't it?" Kendra observed.
Max shot her a questioning look. "Huh?"
"The dress, boo," Original Cindy explained. "The Dress. In every woman's life, there is a dress that she comes across that just gets inside her. I think this one smacked you right between your pretty eyes."
Max sighed. "Yeah, I guess it did. Is that a bad thing?"
Kendra giggled. "Nah. Just shows that you do have two functioning X chromosomes in there after all. But, and I hate to be the one to point this out, how are you going to pay for this if Logan isn't? Six large is a little more difficult to find than our 'rent' was."
Max shrugged, not looking at either of her friends. "I'll manage," she replied vaguely.
Original Cindy eyed Max, not sure she wanted to know what that brilliant mind was cooking up. "We both on for Saturday runs. You need help getting all fancied up?" she offered.
Max flashed her a quick, bright grin. "That'd be wonderful, thanks."
Original Cindy smiled back. "Not a problem, boo. You get the dress, I get the rest."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Where does that idiot get off calling us idiots," Original Cindy grumbled as she pawed through all the makeup she had scattered in the bathroom of Jam Pony. It was pretty obvious that no one had cleaned the room in ages, judging from the slime on the mirror and the faint odor in the air. But Max had insisted on getting dressed in there, not wanting to risk the usual dressing area. Original Cindy personally felt that it was a better risk than the pathogens they could pick up from the restroom, but didn't want to be a complainer for Max's special occasion.
"I believe he decided we're morons," Max's voice piped up from one of the stalls. The rustling of skirts punctuated her words.
Original Cindy scowled at her reflection in the one clean area she had scraped in the mirror. "Either way, the man has got a death wish. I swear—"
"Cindy?" Max interrupted.
Original Cindy turned to look at the door. "Yeah?"
The door opened, and Max came out, clutching one arm to her chest to hold the bodice up. She turned away from her friend. "Zip me, please."
Original Cindy smiled and slid the zipper up. Max turned back around, and OC whistled low under her breath. "Dayum girl. Logan is gonna swallow his tongue when he sees you in that. Isn't there some rule about not upstaging the bride?"
Max snorted. "Like I'd know."
OC couldn't help but running her eyes over Max's frame one more time. Friends or not, Original Cindy had functional eyes and the young woman was fine. "Any less chest and you'd have to find another way to hold that thing up. God sure blessed you good."
"It wasn't God," Max muttered.
Original Cindy raised a slim eyebrow. "Honey, don't even try tellin' me you purchased that rack. You can't find nothin' look that good on a shelf."
Max groaned. "Not quite what I meant. Can we please get off my boobs and on to something a little more productive? Hair, maybe?"
"Aiight. I guess we are cuttin' it a little on time." Original Cindy picked up a hairbrush and began brushing through Max's hair as she began to fumble with makeup, squeezing some concealer out of a tube onto her fingers. "You got any ideas what you want with this mane of yours?"
Max sighed and turned to look at Original Cindy again. She shrugged and absentmindedly rubbed the back of her neck. "I'm thinking part up, part down."
Original Cindy grabbed Max's hand and pulled it away from her neck. With the other hand, she grabbed the concealer tube. "Don't use that stuff. That's too thick for you. Might as well put on grease paint. Thank God you only got it on your neck instead of your face. Try this." Original Cindy passed over a different tube. "This is lighter. Get movin'. We'll wash that crap off your neck later."
Max was unusually silent as she began to put on makeup and Original Cindy played with her hair, trying to manipulate the thick strands into some sense of order. OC was beginning to wonder if she'd said something wrong, when she noticed one of Max's feet tapping frantically. Sistah girl's got some nerves in her after all. Who'd a thunk? she thought, smiling.
Max was just finishing up her lipstick when she suddenly straightened. She dropped the lipstick and turned toward the doorway. One strand of hair Original Cindy had been trying to tuck in pulled as Max jerked away. Original Cindy hissed, "Hold still! I'm almost done!"
Max turned back, eyes wide with nerves. "I gotta go. He's here!"
Original Cindy furrowed her brow. "How the hell do you know that?"
"I can hear him talking. I gotta go," she said again.
"Okay, we won't worry about your neck then. You can't see the makeup you smeared on it, anyway." Original Cindy picked up the little purse that went with the dress and shoved it at Max. "Take a few deep breaths, Max. Don't want to show them nerves when you go out there."
"I'm not nervous," Max replied, her voice rising in a slight squeak. But she began to breathe deeply in spite of her claim.
"Of course you ain't," Original Cindy said, a laugh in her own voice. She began retucking the strand of hair in as Max walked out. "Have the best night, boo."
As they moved out from the bathroom, Max's steps suddenly took on a confident beat and her movements became somewhat sultry. Original Cindy watched as Logan, finely dressed in a black tuxedo, did a double take as Max approached him. "You clean up nice," Max greeted.
"So do you," Logan replied.
"Shall we?"
"Sure."
Original Cindy rolled her eyes at the exchange. She was hoping for something a little more, but should have known that she wouldn't get it with those two. She watched their backs as they walked – or rolled – out the door together.
Backs.
Original Cindy blinked as she thought back to zipping up Max's dress. A few days before, Cindy had patched up Max's shoulder, which had looked like someone tried to peel the skin off. The whole area had been scabby and bruised. Now it was smooth, showing nothing other than Max's normal complexion. Something was beginning to tickle at the back of her brain, some suggestive whisper that was still too muffled to hear clearly. She shook her head, trying to ignore it, and walked over to Sketchy. "Any plans tonight?"
Sketchy shrugged. "Usual. Hit Crash, try to drown my miseries and pick up chicks. Wanna kick it?"
Original Cindy nodded. "Yeah. Sounds like a plan to me, Sketch."
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One pitcher, two pitcher, three pitcher, floor. Although it seemed like the whole Jam Pony crew had high alcohol tolerances, Sketchy was not looking so hot after only a few pitchers. Original Cindy had been giving him some assistance with them, too. She just figured that he'd been dirt broke for a while and hadn't been able to go out drinking, so his liver was used to living the sober life. The really funny thing about Sketchy getting loaded was that he began getting all philosphlo…phlosophil…he started thinking too much.
"One thing you can say about Normal is at least he knows who he is." Sketchy said with a slight slur in his voice.
OC didn't need to shake off the comfortable brew fog she was sitting in to answer that one. "A constipated, crusty, angry, rhythm-free, Republican white man?"
"I myself struggle with self-identity." Sketchy's glazed eyes looked at Original Cindy earnestly.
She rolled her own eyes at him. "Wiggy, you trippin'."
"No, I'm serious."
Original Cindy was about to tell Sketchy what she thought of his seriousness when Herbal Thought leaned across the railing and held out a cell phone. "It's Normal."
Original Cindy felt some of her happy bubble deflate. "Speak of the devil."
Herbal gave OC a steady look. "He's asking for you. He sounds upset. Talk."
As low as Normal was on her favorite person list that week, some small part of her couldn't help but worry at the thought of Normal sounding upset. He never sounded like anything but…crusty and constipated. She slowly reached for the phone. "Herbal, drop some of that I-and-I science on Wiggy here. And don't let him have no more beer." She waited until they left, Sketchy weaving slightly as he walked, and then turned back to the phone. "You callin' during personal time, you better be calling to apologize for what you said at work today. Otherwise, I'm hangin' up on your ass."
"There's a gun pointed at my head."
The word "gun" had cut through the alcohol a bit, but her mouth was still running on the fumes. "You do what you gotta do. But if you're askin' my advice on how to end it all, I'd suggest you put your head in the oven. Or go the sleepin' pill route." Shit. Why the hell did I just say that?
"Okay. Maybe I'm not making myself clear. There are men here with guns, boom boom, who intend to kill me if I don't—if we don't find their package, which has apparently been misplaced. I need your help," Normal pleaded, his normally stiff voice containing the slightest of trembles.
Original Cindy already knew she was going to help him. After all, she was human. But she realized that this was the perfect time to get some payback. "Well, what's in it for me?"
There was a slight pause on the other end as Normal took a minute to consider the question. "Money. Lots of it. Ten bucks."
Original Cindy sighed and rolled her eyes. Man is more of an idiot than I thought. Or maybe he's a moron.
Apparently, Normal took her pause as a flat out rejection, because he upped his offer. "All right, make it twenty."
She was obviously going to need to be spelling it out for him. "I want an apology to every messenger at Jam Pony."
"Yeah, yeah, sure, sure," Normal quickly agreed.
"And I want it in writing," she added, knowing he would renege at his earliest convenience. An annoying echo of his voice sounded in her head, and she came up with one more stipulation. "And I don't ever wanna hear the words 'bip bip bip' again."
"That's…" Normal began, but quickly cut himself off as he realized he didn't really have a choice in the matter. "You'll never hear another 'bip' out of my cakehole as long as I live."
Normal using the term cakehole in its appropriate urban form was nearly payment enough. Nearly. Original Cindy leaned back, and willed her brain to sober up. "Okay. What's the dealio with the package?"
Normal couldn't give her too many details. The package was supposed to be for a Mr. Duvalier. The package received had that name on it, but the contents were the floor plans to a meat packing plant.
"Who delivered the package to your gunslinger?" Original Cindy asked.
"How the hell am I supposed to…never mind," Normal said. There was a slight muffled sound as Normal tried to cover up the phone. "Uh, excuse me, Mr. Duvalier, sir. Would you mind telling me who delivered the package you mistakenly received?"
There were more mumbles, until a sharp, unfamiliar voice snapped out. "Dunno, some tall fool."
"Sketchy," Original Cindy and Normal said at the same time.
"Huh?" Sketchy lifted his head up off the bar at the sound of his name. Original Cindy waived him off and he dropped it back down with a hard thunk.
"Okay, gotta roll with this before you start kissin' lead. Best be thinkin' what you gonna put in that apology, Normal. Might take your mind off things." Original Cindy clicked off the phone, not waiting to hear if he had anything else to say. She stood and walked over to the bar. "Time to go, boys," she said grabbing Sketchy and Herbal by their collars, hauling them off their stools. Herbal caught his footing quickly, but Sketchy stumbled a little, trying to find his balance.
"Wuzzup, Oh Original One?" Sketchy slurred as he tried to straighten up and walk out the door steadily.
Original Cindy shook her head. Of all nights to get blitzed… "Soon as your ass gets outside, why don't you sick up some of that swill you been chuggin' all night. We're gonna need to be as levelheaded as some of us can be for this one."
"Why?" Herbal asked.
She sighed. "Normal needs our help." At the sound of Herbal Thought's snort and Sketchy's retching, she began to wonder what she was getting herself into. She filled them in on the way to Jam Pony, and was thankful that Sketchy's eyes looked a little clearer when they got there. The mail door was open – apparently Normal hadn't gotten a chance to lock up. They quickly got to work shuffling through the packages in the sorting area behind Normal's desk.
They realized after about 15 minutes of searching that the package wasn't there. "You sure you brought it back here after you picked it up?" Cindy asked Sketchy, hoping his mind was as clear as his eyes.
"I don't remember," he said while looking at the packages in his arms.
"Don't make me come over there and smack you," Original Cindy threatened.
Sketchy glanced up at her, a pained look in his eyes. "The only thing that I know for sure is that I can be relied upon to be unreliable. In many respects, Normal's right. I'm an idiot."
Herbal Thought shook his head, the events of the day finally coming together. "No. He's the idiot. Normal switched the contents of the packages after the swordfight. It's the only explanation."
"You mean I'm not an idiot?" Sketchy asked hopefully.
"Let's not go that far. Now who delivered the other mail tube?" Original Cindy grabbed the run clipboard off the counter, intending to answer her own question. She flipped through a couple pages, scanning the item description list, looking for something that fit right around the same time as the other package. She spotted another tube package on the list, and slid a finger over to the deliverer's name. Her face fell. "Well, hell."
"Who delivered it?" Herbal asked.
Original Cindy sighed. "Max did."
Sketchy looked at her like she was the idiot. "So? Call her up, ask what she did with the damn thing."
"Some people actually deliver their packages like they're supposed to," Original Cindy said, narrowing her eyes at Sketchy. "Max is a little busy tonight, so I guess I gotta try to handle this myself."
"Want help?" Herbal offered.
"Nuh-uh. Help from you two often gets me in hotter waters than I already swim in." She pulled a business card off the sheet it was stapled to, and walked toward the door. "Peace, all."
It was a long walk in the dark to the building a Mr. Angelo Biondello worked at, but Original Cindy didn't mind. Actually, it was more that she didn't have a choice. Buses didn't run that late, and cabs were just too expensive. When she arrived at the building, she glanced at the poorly lit structure. "I wonder what the chances are that I'd be able to get in that thing," she murmured to the empty street. She walked up to the first door she saw that wasn't in complete blackness, and pulled on the handles. Locked. She pressed the buzzer off to the side a few times in quick succession, but received no response. She pounded on the door, more in frustration than hoping someone would hear the knock, and turned away, scanning the street for a payphone. She dialed Max's pager number, which Max had thankfully given her that morning. After the beep, she entered the number for the payphone and waited. After a minute, the phone rang. "Yeah?"
"Me hittin' you back. S'up?" Max's voice came through, somewhat muffled by the background music that was playing.
Original Cindy began to give her the same story she gave to Sketchy and Herbal earlier. "That's the dealio, sugar. Packages got switched. Now I'm outside the building you made the drop at."
"Can I ask you one question?" Max asked. "Why exactly are we helping Normal?"
Original Cindy was beginning to wonder that herself. "Hey, Original Cindy don't like the man neither, but that don't mean she wanna see him with a bullet in his head."
"Yeah, I suppose," Max halfheartedly agreed.
Original Cindy glanced down at the business card she had brought with her. "You remember anything about this Angelo Biondello guy that you made the drop to?"
"No clue. Why?"
"'Cause the building's locked, and ain't nobody here to let me in," Original Cindy told her.
"So break in," Max said flippantly.
Original Cindy blinked at the phone. "Break into the building?"
"Yeah, and if Biondello's office is closed, just slim-jimmy your way in," Max continued.
This was going a little farther than Original Cindy wanted it to go. "I am not committing felony breaking and entering, even to save Normal's subhuman life. Besides, even if I could…I'd probably just get lost anyway."
There was hardly a pause before Max said, "I'm on my way."
Before Original Cindy could say anything else, the phone clicked, indicating Max had hung up. "Damn. So much for letting her have a good time tonight."
Surprisingly, less than ten minutes had passed before Max roared up in a silver convertible. Original Cindy thought her eyes would fall out of her head at the sight of Max primly getting out of the sweet car. "Sorry to pull you away from your do, boo," she apologized.
"No problem," Max replied, looking a little distracted.
Original Cindy wondered where the hell she got the vehicle. She'd ridden in Logan's Aztek, and it sure hadn't looked like the car Max came in. "Look at you flossin' in a dope ri-zide," Original Cindy said, trying to get some kind of hint from Max.
Max didn't bite, only passed Original Cindy her purse. "All right. Stay here and keep an eye out."
Original Cindy eyed Max's dress. "What are you gonna do?" Although, she wasn't really sure she wanted to know.
"Try not to wrinkle this dress. Cinderella's gotta return it in the morning." Max turned and walked away.
Original Cindy sighed as she waited. So Max was going to return the dress. It was a real shame, since Original Cindy had seen the look in her friend's eyes when she wore it. It was like the dress had the capability to turn Max into a prim, high-class woman, instead of being just another street rat. She glanced around at the empty streets, and began to wonder just what the hell Max wanted her to keep a lookout for. Even the vermin had deserted the area. Before she had a chance to wonder further, Max came walking back up to the car, holding a rolled up painting in one hand, and holding up the bodice of her dress with the other.
"Hey! Zip me up," she told Original Cindy.
Original Cindy decided that she really didn't want to know what Max had to do to get the painting back. She zipped up the dress and handed her the purse.
Max passed Cindy the painting and dug in her purse. She pulled out a small wad of paper, glancing at it confused for the briefest of seconds before her eyes widened in horror. She ran to the driver's side of the car. "Logan's – his speech!" she exclaimed as she all but dove in, and sped away.
"Have fun!" she called after her, shaking her head as she took off for the new delivery location.
Ironically, and fortunately, Duvalier's place wasn't that far from Biondello's building. OC knocked on the door and waited. A big brother with a shaved head and no pretences about being strapped answered the door, and stared down at Original Cindy. She tried her best not to shake as she told him, "Got a 911 delivery from Jam Pony?"
The bald man opened the door wider and said, "Upstairs," and began leading the way without seeing if Original Cindy was following.
They entered a room, and Original Cindy was mildly relieved to see that Normal was still alive and apparently in one piece. Normal glared at her and said, "It's about time! Bip—" before catching himself and lowering his glance. "Never mind." He stood up and looked at a man who must have been Duvalier. "Okay. Can I go?"
Duvalier shoved Normal back down on the couch. He unrolled the painting on a glass coffee table in the room, and then pulled out some kind of scanner to look at the painting. He smiled and said, "You actually thought you could lay a phony off on me, huh?"
Original Cindy paled until she realized that Duvalier was addressing another man she hadn't even realized was there.
The man's eyes widened and he began pleading with Duvalier. "Whoa
– Hey, if that's a forgery, then I'm a victim here too, okay?"
He made a small noise as Duvalier hit him, and began pleading harder. "I
had the original, okay? I swear! Either my partner stabbed me in the back, or
these guys are players." The man pointed at Normal and Original Cindy,
trying to take some of the attention off himself.
Original Cindy's heart was racing as she realized she was fast getting
caught up in something totally bad. "Hey, I'm just the messenger,
blood. We found your package. Now let my boy go. 'Cause believe me, he
ain't no playa playa."
Duvalier looked at the man on the couch, and nearly smiled again as he asked, "Know what the word 'defenestration' means?"
The man tried his best. "Isn't that when you cut all the trees down?"
"Nah." Duvalier nodded to his bodyguards, who picked up the pleading man, dragged him over an open window and threw him out, screaming. "Now that's defenestration." He turned back to Original Cindy, and she swallowed, frightened by the cold look in his eyes. "I don't care what you gotta do to get me that painting. If it's not in my hands in the next two hours, then he's next." He pointed at Normal.
Original Cindy nodded, and looked at Normal briefly, before turning to leave. She tried not to think about the scared look on his face as she walked out the door to find another pay phone. There was no way she was going to make any calls from inside that place.
Original Cindy reached a payphone on the next block over, and wondered if this was why Max kept getting into trouble. She just didn't know how to say "no" or "fuck off" when people asked for help.
With a shaking hand, she dialed Max's pager for the second time that night. When Max called back, Cindy couldn't tell whether Max sounded distracted or angry as she said, "No, I'm not familiar with the term 'defenestration'."
"Let me enlighten you, sugah," Original Cindy said. "It means getting your ass heaved out a window."
"Ouch," Max said dryly.
"Yeah, ouch. Turns out the dude this dude rolls with tried to pass off a dud."
"Forgery, huh?"
"S'what I said, boo."
"And where'd Sketchy make the pickup?" Max asked.
Original Cindy closed her eyes in relief. She had now found herself on the ass saving list, and Max hadn't even thought twice about it. "Give me a lift, boo. I'll give you a hand."
Max rolled up in the same ride she'd had before. "Need a lift?" she asked, giving Original Cindy a smile that faded too quickly.
Original Cindy eyed Max, but smiled. "Of course I want a ride, if it's in that thing. Chance of a lifetime." She hurriedly slid in the passenger seat. She gave Max the address they needed to go to, but the woman didn't say anything as they drove away. Cindy looked at Max, and saw her alternately clenching and unclenching her hands on the steering wheel. "You aiight?"
Max looked at OC in surprise. "Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"
Original Cindy nodded at Max's hands. "You look like you'd rather be strangling someone instead of that wheel. If you didn't want to help out with this, all you had to do was say—"
"No!" Max exclaimed. "Original Cindy, no. I want to help out with this. It's just…"
"Party not going the way you wanted?" Original Cindy guessed.
Max sighed. "It's okay, but…I guess I thought it'd be a little different." She pulled the car to a stop in front of a dingy apartment building. They went in together, walked up to 7B, and knocked on the door. "So what's the dealio with this 'catching the bouquet' thing?" she asked.
Max never ceased to amaze Original Cindy with her lack of knowledge about seemingly everyday things. Max had talked about breaking and entering like it was something she did after brushing her teeth, yet weddings were such a foreign event to her. "Whoever gets it's supposed to get married next to the man of her dreams. Some kind of bent heterosexual thing," Original Cindy explained, tongue in cheek.
Max knocked again, and although the door she knocked on didn't open, one across the hall did. A woman stepped out in her robe. "D'you know where the guy is that lives here?" Max asked.
The woman told her, "He moved out this afternoon."
Shit, Original Cindy thought. "You know where he went?"
The woman shook her head. "No. Musta hit it big at the track or somethin', though. Took off for the airport in a limo with three girls who weren't wearin' much at all."
Max thanked the woman, and then grabbed Original Cindy, jogging a little back to the car. They drove to the airport, but found that all flights had been delayed on account of fog. Max pushed the speed a little on the car as they headed to the closest motel.
"You know, Max, I appreciate you helping me spare Normal's ass, but it ain't gonna do him no good if you get us killed," Original Cindy warned, gripping the door as they quickly sped through the parking lot.
Max shook her head. "Don't worry, I know what I'm doing. But this is taking too much time. We may be cutting it close." She parked the car directly in front of the lobby, ignoring the fire lane warnings. They went in, and she asked for the room of the "guy with the most flash." The concierge eyed both girls, giving Max and Original Cindy an idea of what the guy was doing, and directed them to a room. They burst through the door. A man was in a hot tub with several women, and he looked at Max and Original Cindy in startled amazement as they walked up to the tub.
Max glared at him. "I'm gonna need your undivided attention because I got somewhere else I gotta be. What did you do with it?"
"Do I know you girls?" the man asked.
Max responded by grabbing his head and dunking him underwater, holding him for a minute. Original Cindy tried to look like the casual second arm, but inside she was shaking, a little worried that Max wouldn't know what she was doing and drown the schmuck.
One of the women in the tub giggled as she swung her thin flute of champagne around. "I didn't know he was into scenarios. How much is he paying you for this?"
Max released the man and asked again. "Where's the real painting?"
Realization flashed through the man's eyes even as he proclaimed, "I don't know what the hell you're talking about."
Max went straight towards pissed. "Let me fill in the blanks. You went up for auction and double-crossed your partner, now deceased. You're skipping town with the cash, only your flight was delayed on account of the weather. So here you are in a mo-mo with your little playmates, waiting for the fog to lift."
The man tried to do his best to talk himself out of the situation. "Look, whoever you are, you've got it all wrong."
Original Cindy'd had enough of his blustering. It was time to play her part. She pushed up her sleeves and said, "Here, let me do this, boo, so you don't mess up your dress." She grabbed the man's head herself, and pushed him under, holding him for about as long as Max did, and then releasing him.
Apparently, the man had enough swimming for the night. "Hey! Okay!"
"Where's the real painting?" Max repeated threateningly.
The man gave in and told her. "I sold it to this Korean ship captain. The big guy over there, Kim somebody, is a real connoisseur. Wanted it for the presidential palace."
Max looked at Original Cindy. "Let's go." They jogged back out to the car, and Max sped away.
After she managed to get a look at the scenery that was flying by, Original Cindy asked Max, "Where are we going? 'Cuz we ain't headed nowhere near the docks."
Max shook her head. "We're going back to the wedding."
Original Cindy blinked. "Okay, boo, I know you all excited about this shindig and all, but Normal's life is on the line here. I think your do may need to wait."
Max smiled and pushed her foot down on the accelerator. "Don't worry yet. We still got, what? An hour?"
"'Bout that."
"Should be just enough time, if I get a little help finding which ship it's on," Max said.
The light dawned for Original Cindy. "And you got someone at that party who might be able to help you, huh?"
Max nodded. "Yup."
"Do I even ask…?"
"Nope."
Max pulled up to a giant house with lights blazing from every window. "Jesus," Original Cindy said, awestruck. "You'd think that they was burning money in there by the way the place glows."
Max rolled her eyes. "You never know. They might be," she muttered. She looked at Original Cindy, who was still sitting in the car. "You coming?"
"Huh? Me? In there? I don't think—"
Max waved at her. "Get out of the car."
Original Cindy got out of the car, and tried to keep holding her head up as they walked inside. Max stopped the valets with a raised hand. "I'll be out in a few, boys. No need to worry about me," she said in a slightly sultry voice.
Original Cindy whispered to Max, "I think they's gonna wet themselves if you talk like that again." As Max laughed, Original Cindy looked around the room they entered. Everywhere she looked, it seemed like the dancing people sparkled, both from their clothing and from the jewels draped all over them. "Nothing like a room full of flat-ass white girls to get your mind off a defenestration." She picked a glass of champagne off a server's tray, intending to drink away her memories of earlier.
Max motioned her to wait, and then walked away. Even with the noise of the room, Original Cindy could hear Max's voice carry as she walked by an older woman and stiffly said, "Nice locket." Original Cindy didn't hear the woman's response, but instead continued to watch Max as she made her way through the crowd to Logan, who seemed to be intently talking with a skinny blonde woman. A few unheard words were all it took to get Logan to leave the room with Max. Original Cindy couldn't help but wonder if that was part of Max's mood – the fact that Logan was talking to someone other than his "date".
Original Cindy stood around, feeling a little foolish for not being as dressed up as the other people there. But within five minutes, Max was back, and standing at her shoulder. "Find out where it's at?"
Max nodded. "And I got it covered. I need to ask you a favor. You see that girl over there?" She pointed to the skinny blonde who had been talking to Logan, who was now dancing with another guy.
Original Cindy sure could see all of her. Quite well. "Mm-hmm," she hummed, trying not to be too obvious, not entirely sure what Max was after.
Max glanced at Original Cindy. "That's Logan's ex."
Everything clicked now, and Original Cindy smiled. "I got your back."
"Thanks, boo," Max said, relief in her voice.
As Max left, Original Cindy watched the man dance away from the blonde, and couldn't help but notice the slightly relieved look on the blonde's face. OC stepped in and said, "You got smooth moves, boo."
The woman looked at Original Cindy and smiled.
Original Cindy blinked at the frank look. But she couldn't be sure if the woman had looked looked at her, or had just checked out her clothes. Either way, Original Cindy smiled back. "Name's Original Cindy."
"It's very nice to meet you, Original Cindy. I'm Daphne," was the returned introduction. Daphne grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing server, and gestured with it to the dancing bridal couple. "So are you bride's side or groom's?"
Original Cindy shrugged, already deciding that she wasn't going to dance around the reality of the situation. "I guess if you want to be technical, the groom's. I think. It's really neither."
Daphne raised a slim eyebrow and grinned, showing a nice display of brilliant white teeth. "Is that so? You crashin' then?"
Original Cindy raised an eyebrow of her own. "I was invited. Kinda. My friend who left me is…was…here with the best man."
Daphne nodded, understanding. "You mean Logan. So you're with…Max?"
"Well, not with her in the strictest sense of the word," Original Cindy clarified, "but she dumped my ass here so she could run an errand."
Daphne chuckled. "That's alright. I don't think anyone will notice you."
OC looked down at her clothes. "Girl, you either being kind or being blind, 'cuz I don't see how a peasant could not stand out in a crowd of royalty."
Now Daphne's laugh was free, and rather loud. "Trust me. This group of blue-blooded highbrows could use a little of your blood in the mix. Might loosen them up enough to get the stick out of their collective ass."
They continued to talk for some time, not really going beyond the superficial: jobs, friends, activities. After a while, the dancing music stopped, and the murmurs of the crowd around them began to increase in volume. "What's up?" Original Cindy asked Daphne.
Daphne looked around. "I think it's time to throw the bouquet."
Sure enough, someone called loudly to the group, "If all the single women would please gather underneath the balcony, we can get on with throwing the bouquet!"
Both Original Cindy and Daphne moved with the rest of the women crowding their way forward. Daphne chose a position near the front of the group, but Original Cindy chose a place off to the side, not really wanting to be involved. When she got to her place, she noticed that Max was back, and although she was smiling prettily, it seemed that the discussion she was having with Logan was pretty heated. "I guess Normal's alive," Original Cindy said to herself, as the women began to cheer in anticipation. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the bride toss the bouquet over one shoulder, but didn't notice much more than that, since all she could now see was Max leaping away from her spot to hit the bouquet, which had been heading directly toward Daphne.
Original Cindy caught it instead.
She glanced up from the bouquet, first sending a quick glare at Max, and then looking up toward the bride and groom, who were smiling broadly, but obviously had no clue who she was. Original Cindy glanced down at the bouquet again, turning it in her hands, trying to figure out what to do with the damn thing. Daphne wandered over to Original Cindy, apparently to offer her congratulations. Original Cindy didn't give her any time to say anything, just passed the bouquet to Daphne, telling her, "Waste of good mojo, you ask me. Original Cindy ain't lookin' for no husband."
There was no question about the look Daphne gave her that time. It was pretty self-satisfied as she offered, "What do you say we go shoot some pool?"
Original Cindy grinned. Best offer she'd had all night. "All right with me, girl."
They both grabbed another flute of champagne, and Original Cindy managed to scam a bottle from a server. Daphne led the way through the house to what was probably considered the "Men's Room." The room was furnished with dark woods, lots of leather, and, of course, a pool table. The air smelled heavily of expensive cigars. Original Cindy wrinkled her nose as she stepped into the room. "Original Cindy's gonna get high from all the tobacco in the air."
Daphne laughed again loudly, almost raucously. "I'd offer to crack a window, but…" she gestured at the solid walls, "obviously sunlight would spoil the den of iniquity atmosphere."
Original Cindy grinned and grabbed a pool cue, checking the balance. "Why do men have to put themselves through this whole fiasco to remind themselves they's men, when they could just reach down and grab themselves much cheaper?"
Daphne grinned and took a cue from Original Cindy, letting their fingers brush as she pulled it away. "Didn't you know? This is the most hygienic way of doing just that. They can each grab their stick, aim it at holes, and pray something makes it in. If they're the one that finishes first, even better."
Original Cindy choked as some champagne went down the wrong pipe. "You are a female after my own heart," OC told her.
Daphne looked up slyly from where she was racking the balls. "Are you sure that's what I'm after?"
Original Cindy shook her head. "I ain't even gonna go there yet. Maybe after I've known you for more than two hours."
"Fine with me. I gotta couple of hours to spare," Daphne said, shrugging.
"So...if this is men's way of pseudo-grabbing themselves…what are we doing playing this game?" Original Cindy asked, trying to go back to the original topic.
Daphne took aim at the cue ball and shot. The balls shot in every direction, but only one made it in. "Because where else do you get to break balls and not have to listen to that annoying shriek of pain that invariably comes after? Stripes."
"Just checkin'. Original Cindy likes to check where all the playas stand." She watched as Daphne got a second ball in, but missed a third shot. They were silent for a while, in a comfortable way, as they each took their turn at the table. Daphne was a good player, but Original Cindy was better, thanks to hours of practice at Crash. She sank the eight ball cleanly, and turned to Daphne with a smile. "Sorry 'bout that, boo, but this game was all mine. Maybe next time."
"I like that you think there's gonna be a next time." Daphne picked up the bottle of champagne and refilled their glasses. She half-fell into a large leather sofa, toed off her shoes, and took a long sip from her glass. She eyed Original Cindy's clothes wistfully. "I am really wishing right now that I'd gone with comfort instead of fashion. Give me my crusty jeans and holey sneakers any day."
Original Cindy took a sip of champagne and sighed, taking a seat next to Daphne. "And here I was thinkin' I'da gone for something a little more done up."
Daphne shook her head. "You're better off being who you are."
Original Cindy gave Daphne a suspicious look. "And just how the hell do you manage that when you're stuck being in with that crowd?" she accused, cocking a finger toward the closed door.
Daphne shrugged. "I may not want to be a playa, but I sure as hell know the rules of the game. I'll be snooty and stuffy for them, but only if it serves a purpose for me."
"And where does Original Cindy fit in all this?" Original Cindy asked softly.
Daphne didn't say anything, only half-closed her eyes as she examined Cindy's face carefully. She then leaned in, and gave her a gentle kiss.
When Daphne pulled away, Original Cindy sighed at the sudden loss of contact. "Just so I know where I stand, boo." She carefully laid a hand on the exposed skin of Daphne's leg, and leaned toward her once more. They were a breath away when the door opened.
A surprised young man in a tux blinked at the two of them. "Oh…I…uh," he stammered, blushing furiously. "Sorry, I didn't realize that…uh…"
Original Cindy and Daphne looked at each other and rolled their eyes. Original Cindy grasped Daphne's hands and pulled her up from the couch. "Come on, sugah. I think we's bein' evicted."
Daphne laughed cheerfully, waving at the young man as they left the room. They wandered back toward the main room, and were rather surprised to notice that only a few stragglers were remaining. A couple more men in tuxes headed in the direction of the poolroom, presumably to join the first in a game. The music had long stopped playing, and the DJ was beginning to pack up the equipment. "Looks like we missed the party," Daphne said, not looking a bit displeased.
Original Cindy scanned the few chatting people in the room. Her very recognizable friends were nowhere to be seen. "Damn. Looks like my ride split without me."
"Why don't I give you a ride?" Daphne offered. She then thought of the other way that could be taken, and grinned. "I think I'll just leave it at that."
Original Cindy swung an arm around the blonde's waist. "Original Cindy's got coffee back at the crib."
Daphne's lips twisted up wryly as she linked her arm over OC's, effectively locking it in place. "I could go for some coffee about now." They let go of each other long enough to climb into a standard gray sedan. Once inside, they linked fingers as they drove off.
Original Cindy gave Daphne directions to her apartment, and then leaned back, examining the interior of the car. "You keep surprising me, Daphie dear. I would have figured you for a cherry red convertible."
Daphne laughed, noticing her new nickname. "Not in this economy, honey. I live a little more upclass than most, but I don't have a garage." She took a turn, and then cut her eyes to Original Cindy. "Daphie dear don't like lookin' for pieces of her car." She pulled to a slow stop in front of Original Cindy's apartment, and parked. "Plus gray blends better than cherry red."
"Some taggers come along, it'll blend even better," Original Cindy said, but didn't comment further as they went inside the building. Original Cindy unlocked her door, and gestured Daphne to go in first. "Slum sweet home."
Daphne took a quick lap around the small apartment, glancing at the posters on the walls and the knick-knacks that Original Cindy had arranged carefully throughout the place. "I hate to tell you, but this is a little more upscale looking than a slum."
Original Cindy looked over her shoulder as she headed toward the kitchen. "Not much more upscale. How do you take your coffee?"
"Damn. I thought you were just making an excuse to get me in your bed. Black, please," Daphne said, sighing. She pulled off her shoes, and then followed Original Cindy into the kitchen.
"Sorry, girl. But Original Cindy don't do much more than kiss on the first date. Even I have my standards." Original Cindy reached into a cabinet and pulled out a can of coffee that she had, thankfully, just bought a few days before.
Daphne leaned on the wall. "We're not on a date," she teased.
Original Cindy laughed. "You still not going further than first base." She put some grounds in a percolator, and turned back to Daphne.
Daphne had wandered over to the refrigerator and was looking at the picture of Original Cindy and Max. "This is Logan's girl…Max? She looks so different here."
"How so?" Original Cindy asked, cocking her head to one side.
Daphne shook her head. "I don't know. More relaxed, I guess. How long've they been together?"
Original Cindy rolled her eyes as she added the water and set the percolator on the stove. "Depends on who you ask. If you ask them, they ain't together."
Daphne looked at Original Cindy, her eyes full of humor. "And if I ask you?"
OC grinned. "About ten months." A small silence went by until the coffee began to boil. After it had boiled for a few minutes, she pulled the coffee off the stove, poured it into two mugs, and handed one to Daphne.
Daphne took a sip of the coffee and sighed appreciatively. "Same old Logan. Always saw the opposite of how things really were."
"What do you mean?"
Daphne shrugged and turned her cup around in her hands. "We were engaged for about 30 seconds. The whole process consisted of 'Sure…uh, wait. No.' I'm not sure he ever realized…"
"He was on the wrong team?" Original Cindy knew how that went sometimes.
"Yeah," Daphne laughed. "And that was the only 30 seconds I ever caved to duty and status. For 30 seconds I settled. Then I came to my senses and realized I wasn't ready to settle. Not with him, not with anybody. Still won't, actually."
Original Cindy smiled. "I feel ya." Long short-term relationships were all she was ready to have in her life right now. She'd had a feeling early on that evening that Daphne had felt the same. "More coffee?"
"Sure."
Original Cindy refilled both of their mugs, and the two of them continued chatting, alternating back and forth from the mundane to life's mysteries until the coffee had gone cold and they could see the first hints of daylight through the window. Taking a final swig from her mug, Daphne began to slip her shoes back on her feet. "I'd better get going," she told Original Cindy. "If I don't get at least some rest today, I'll be a mess at work tomorrow."
"Same here, sugah," Original Cindy said as she led Daphne to the door. "It's a little hard to sleep-ride my bike. Although, got a couple friends who seem to manage from time to time."
Daphne looked at Original Cindy and gave her a cheerful smile. "It was wonderful to meet you, Original Cindy. I'll give you a call sometime."
Cindy smiled wryly and said, "Yeah, you do that, Daphie dear." She leaned over and gave Daphne a parting kiss. "Drive safe."
Original Cindy watched until Daphne turned the corner at the end of the hall and was out of sight. OC turned and slowly shut the door. She knew Daphne wouldn't call again. Their worlds were too different to get along.
And what about Max and Logan? a little voice in her head questioned.
Original Cindy shrugged that off as she walked into the kitchen to clean the percolator. "They're different," she said to the empty apartment. "They don't live in separate worlds. They live in their own little world. They'll be fine, if they just figure out the truth of things." She rinsed the mugs and set them aside to clean later. She turned away from the sink…
…and watched as the picture of her and Max fell gently from the refrigerator door, floating slowly to the ground.
Original Cindy frowned, and walked over to pick it up. "I wonder why that happened?" she murmured, noting that the magnet holding it was still in place. She moved to the window, and looked out at the city. It seemed like a fog had rolled in at some point during the night, and now hovered over the city like an eerie phantom. She turned away, knowing the fog would lift soon. She returned the picture to its rightful place, smiling at her friend and the longest relationship she'd ever had, and went to go to bed.
As she fell asleep, her last feeling was that something was about to change.
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Chapter 6 - Rising Above
Coming September 2
