The 4 boxes.
Disclaimer-I'm not sure who relic hunter belongs to, but I'm damn sure it's not me!
Summary-4 boxes affect Sydney and Nigel's behaviour.
PG/PG-13
Feedback- Yes please!! I try to thank everyone who reviews in the author's notes, but if I forget you, tell me and I'll apologise.
Thank you; Kharma for reviewing, it means a lot to me.
********************
To say Sydney was tired was an understatement, in fact, the last time she had been in a bed was in Paris. Since that pleasant time, she had been on two eight hour flights, had had the fun of dealing with three hectic airports, and had spent the last hour and a half driving around Germany without the slightest clue where she was going.
She wanted to go and collapse in a warm hotel bed, preferably sharing it with Nigel. She had slept, but not deep enough to remove any fatigue and even if she took a nap right now, she would be even more sluggish in the hour and a half it took to get back on her feet.
They were now parked outside the address given to the by Claudia, owned by one Mallory Sumner. Nigel was sitting next to her, looking around at the large house and almost certainly as tired as she felt.
"So what's the plan? I mean, it's a large house, but not large enough for us to sneak in undetected. We can't just go in and get it back can we?"
Sydney had been thinking about this herself, and had been planning something.
"No." She answered. "We're going to go and knock on the door and talk to them."
"Pardon Syd? Excuse me, but I'm fairly certain that I heard you say, and I quote, 'we're going to go and knock on the door'. If I remember our one and only experience of them, they didn't strike me as people who would allow us to have a chat with them. Put a bullet into our stomach, now that I don't have any problem visualising. . ."
"Nigel. . ." she tried to clam him down and vocalised her opinion. "They were leaving us a message. . ."
"Damn right they were leaving us a message, they were saying 'come anywhere near us again and you'll be dead before you hit the ground.'"
". . .they were leaving us a message" she carried on firmly "by writing that note by hand, they *knew* anyone with computer sills could find out this address."
Nigel was very tired she knew, so she was trying very hard not to snap at his comments. She knew that they were well meant, but the snarky-ness in his tone was getting to her. She reminded herself that marriage or any partnership was based on give and take, and this was a time to take unless she wanted to rock the boat irreparably.
"If they wanted us dead they could have killed us in Venice, but they didn't. We all know that it wouldn't be smart for them to kill us now, not when Claudia and a number of other people have the address of him. I really think they just want to talk."
"Well why couldn't they have just sent us a message saying 'phone me'? Or we could have possibly organised a video conference."
"Look Nigel," Her grip on her temper loosened slightly "you can always stay in the car."
"I don't want to stay in the car; I just don't want you to die, or me to die because we're both tired and snappy. Let's just be careful shall we?"
She calmed down again, and where she had been sitting stiffly, she relaxed into her seat.
"I know, I'm just fed up of flights, and fed up of the ever constant threat of bursting into song. I just want to go home so we can get on with life."
Nigel smiled sympathetically and made to move out of the car, putting an end to the conversation.
"Fine, we'll do this, but you're ringing the doorbell."
"Deal." Sydney grinned.
They walked up the driveway slowly, as if expecting to be shot at any moment. When they reached the porch Sydney pressed the bell. It made a ding- ding sound, popular with middle-class people, and which always made Sydney think that the battery was failing.
"Yes." The door was jerked open and the familiar blonde who had held them up answered through a sniffle.
She looked different at home; the red leather pants and the black tight blouse were gone, as was the curled set femme fatale hair and stiletto heels. Now she wore a beige top with green flowers and a pair of darker brown trousers. Her make up was more natural, and her softer blonde hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail. In Sydney's mind, she was everything a thief wasn't. What was most noticeable about her though, was the red patches around her eyes and nose. Her mouth had the grim set of someone who has been crying for hours and doesn't intend to stop for some time.
"It's you." She croaked. "I wondered if you would come. You might as well come in."
To their surprise they were directed politely to the living room and were told to sit while their hostess prepared tea.
A few seconds after the woman had left the man entered, looking much the same as he had before, although his clothes were toned down slightly and the sharpness had left him.
Waiting for the woman to return, he sat in silence opposite them.
While Sydney and Nigel sat on tenterhooks, waiting for some kind of answer, the woman returned with the tea and sat. The man was the first to speak.
"I take it you know me, since you obviously tracked us here. Mallory, and this is my wife, Dolores."
Sydney couldn't disguise a look of shock, if there was anyone in the universe who didn't look like a Dolores, it was this woman. Dolores must have been used to it, for she didn't comment despite the obvious shock of the Relic hunters.
"Yes well, when we usually come to retrieve a relic from thieves, we don't normally get sat down to tea and a formal introduction. For God's sake Nigel, just take the cookie." Nigel had been eyeing one particular cookie since the tray had been sat down but was obviously too embarrassed to take it immediately, looking extremely embarrassed he picked it up.
"S-sorry, but do you know how hard they are to get in the US?" He took a loud bite of the plain Digestive biscuit.
"You can't retrieve it, at least, not from us." Mallory spoke for the first time, his voice shocked them both, gone was the harsh London drawl, in it's place was a gentle accent, very similar to Nigel's."
"Why not?" She demanded. "Aside from you obviously not wanting us to have it?"
The sound of the cup hitting the saucer followed by the splash as tea went everywhere was loud in the building tension.
"I don't care whether you have the stupid box or not. Hell, if it were here, I'd give it to you myself with pleasure." Dolores dumped the tea back on the table and glared at her guests.
"Pardon me, but if you don't want the box, why did you steal it? And what about your sudden change of appearances?" Nigel's voice did the equivalent in tone of saying 'Not that I don't like the new looks, believe me I prefer them to the other ones and while I'm at it can I thank you for the biscuit before you kill me for wanting the box?'
"We didn't steal it for us, we were made to!" She snapped. "We had to, it was either that or, or. . . I couldn't let it happen, I just couldn't." Mallory was at her side immediately, rocking her as she sobbed into his chest.
"Spiro Lazlo." Mallory spoke over her head. "He's the b*stard you want, he has the damn box."
When Dolores spoke, her voice stilled the room.
"He took our son."
*******
I think there's going to be another four or five chapter, I'll write them as soon as I can, I should have another up tomorrow.
Thank you for reading, please review.
Disclaimer-I'm not sure who relic hunter belongs to, but I'm damn sure it's not me!
Summary-4 boxes affect Sydney and Nigel's behaviour.
PG/PG-13
Feedback- Yes please!! I try to thank everyone who reviews in the author's notes, but if I forget you, tell me and I'll apologise.
Thank you; Kharma for reviewing, it means a lot to me.
********************
To say Sydney was tired was an understatement, in fact, the last time she had been in a bed was in Paris. Since that pleasant time, she had been on two eight hour flights, had had the fun of dealing with three hectic airports, and had spent the last hour and a half driving around Germany without the slightest clue where she was going.
She wanted to go and collapse in a warm hotel bed, preferably sharing it with Nigel. She had slept, but not deep enough to remove any fatigue and even if she took a nap right now, she would be even more sluggish in the hour and a half it took to get back on her feet.
They were now parked outside the address given to the by Claudia, owned by one Mallory Sumner. Nigel was sitting next to her, looking around at the large house and almost certainly as tired as she felt.
"So what's the plan? I mean, it's a large house, but not large enough for us to sneak in undetected. We can't just go in and get it back can we?"
Sydney had been thinking about this herself, and had been planning something.
"No." She answered. "We're going to go and knock on the door and talk to them."
"Pardon Syd? Excuse me, but I'm fairly certain that I heard you say, and I quote, 'we're going to go and knock on the door'. If I remember our one and only experience of them, they didn't strike me as people who would allow us to have a chat with them. Put a bullet into our stomach, now that I don't have any problem visualising. . ."
"Nigel. . ." she tried to clam him down and vocalised her opinion. "They were leaving us a message. . ."
"Damn right they were leaving us a message, they were saying 'come anywhere near us again and you'll be dead before you hit the ground.'"
". . .they were leaving us a message" she carried on firmly "by writing that note by hand, they *knew* anyone with computer sills could find out this address."
Nigel was very tired she knew, so she was trying very hard not to snap at his comments. She knew that they were well meant, but the snarky-ness in his tone was getting to her. She reminded herself that marriage or any partnership was based on give and take, and this was a time to take unless she wanted to rock the boat irreparably.
"If they wanted us dead they could have killed us in Venice, but they didn't. We all know that it wouldn't be smart for them to kill us now, not when Claudia and a number of other people have the address of him. I really think they just want to talk."
"Well why couldn't they have just sent us a message saying 'phone me'? Or we could have possibly organised a video conference."
"Look Nigel," Her grip on her temper loosened slightly "you can always stay in the car."
"I don't want to stay in the car; I just don't want you to die, or me to die because we're both tired and snappy. Let's just be careful shall we?"
She calmed down again, and where she had been sitting stiffly, she relaxed into her seat.
"I know, I'm just fed up of flights, and fed up of the ever constant threat of bursting into song. I just want to go home so we can get on with life."
Nigel smiled sympathetically and made to move out of the car, putting an end to the conversation.
"Fine, we'll do this, but you're ringing the doorbell."
"Deal." Sydney grinned.
They walked up the driveway slowly, as if expecting to be shot at any moment. When they reached the porch Sydney pressed the bell. It made a ding- ding sound, popular with middle-class people, and which always made Sydney think that the battery was failing.
"Yes." The door was jerked open and the familiar blonde who had held them up answered through a sniffle.
She looked different at home; the red leather pants and the black tight blouse were gone, as was the curled set femme fatale hair and stiletto heels. Now she wore a beige top with green flowers and a pair of darker brown trousers. Her make up was more natural, and her softer blonde hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail. In Sydney's mind, she was everything a thief wasn't. What was most noticeable about her though, was the red patches around her eyes and nose. Her mouth had the grim set of someone who has been crying for hours and doesn't intend to stop for some time.
"It's you." She croaked. "I wondered if you would come. You might as well come in."
To their surprise they were directed politely to the living room and were told to sit while their hostess prepared tea.
A few seconds after the woman had left the man entered, looking much the same as he had before, although his clothes were toned down slightly and the sharpness had left him.
Waiting for the woman to return, he sat in silence opposite them.
While Sydney and Nigel sat on tenterhooks, waiting for some kind of answer, the woman returned with the tea and sat. The man was the first to speak.
"I take it you know me, since you obviously tracked us here. Mallory, and this is my wife, Dolores."
Sydney couldn't disguise a look of shock, if there was anyone in the universe who didn't look like a Dolores, it was this woman. Dolores must have been used to it, for she didn't comment despite the obvious shock of the Relic hunters.
"Yes well, when we usually come to retrieve a relic from thieves, we don't normally get sat down to tea and a formal introduction. For God's sake Nigel, just take the cookie." Nigel had been eyeing one particular cookie since the tray had been sat down but was obviously too embarrassed to take it immediately, looking extremely embarrassed he picked it up.
"S-sorry, but do you know how hard they are to get in the US?" He took a loud bite of the plain Digestive biscuit.
"You can't retrieve it, at least, not from us." Mallory spoke for the first time, his voice shocked them both, gone was the harsh London drawl, in it's place was a gentle accent, very similar to Nigel's."
"Why not?" She demanded. "Aside from you obviously not wanting us to have it?"
The sound of the cup hitting the saucer followed by the splash as tea went everywhere was loud in the building tension.
"I don't care whether you have the stupid box or not. Hell, if it were here, I'd give it to you myself with pleasure." Dolores dumped the tea back on the table and glared at her guests.
"Pardon me, but if you don't want the box, why did you steal it? And what about your sudden change of appearances?" Nigel's voice did the equivalent in tone of saying 'Not that I don't like the new looks, believe me I prefer them to the other ones and while I'm at it can I thank you for the biscuit before you kill me for wanting the box?'
"We didn't steal it for us, we were made to!" She snapped. "We had to, it was either that or, or. . . I couldn't let it happen, I just couldn't." Mallory was at her side immediately, rocking her as she sobbed into his chest.
"Spiro Lazlo." Mallory spoke over her head. "He's the b*stard you want, he has the damn box."
When Dolores spoke, her voice stilled the room.
"He took our son."
*******
I think there's going to be another four or five chapter, I'll write them as soon as I can, I should have another up tomorrow.
Thank you for reading, please review.
