An Unauthorized Genetic Experiment: episode two.
Author: Chippewa Livingston
Archive: Please ask
Disclaimer: I claim no affiliation or ownership of characters or material related to Dark Angel.
Summary: A quick and easy job gets complicated. Will new lies be able to cover the naked truth?
Chapter 2: Artistic Taste
"Roxanne!" No less than three voices shouted my name at the same time. One of them was Sven and since he deals out the money around here he gets priority. The cracked voice of the sixty-something- year- old short order cook rose again from the kitchen.
I pushed through the kitchen door bearing my tray like a shield against the protesting voices of the customers. "I need three orders of fries and two cheese- steaks." Sven's weathered hands doled out meat and mushrooms which came with the sandwiches regardless of what my order indicated. I'd lost more than a few tips because of Sven's mushrooms but he was too stiff necked even for sweet little Roxie.
"Mitzi stopped by earlier. I think she's worried about you. You oughta indulge her on this." He held out a hand and offered a slip of paper. It was one of those little tabs ripped off of fliers. The 'f' was missing but it would have read 'free clinic for expectant mothers'. Then there was a phone number and the phrase 'No Questions'.
I rolled my eyes. "I'm not so fond of doctors."
"I know honey, I'm right there with you. But you should go, just have things checked out." Sven expertly stirred the meat as it was beginning to crisp. "There's a young man for you on the phone." He said eventually and I wondered just how long that 'young man' had been kept waiting.
I crossed the small kitchen to the red handled phone. "Talk. I've got customers." I said, all the while smiling Roxanne's smile.
"I'm going to be home late. Quick cash opportunity." He sounded so ready to leave it at that that I didn't hang up.
"Who do you have to kill?" I joked.
"No one." He sounded a little too strained. "It's just an art thing. This woman offered me the job on the street today."
On the street. A thought occurred to me. "So do you get to keep your clothes on?" I was fairly sure I already knew the answer.
"No." He said honestly which did a little to stem the irrational surge of jealousy… but not much.
"So…who are the students?"
"I have no idea."
"Well they better be a bunch of wrinkly old ladies." It didn't come out as light as I had hoped.
He laughed uneasily. "I'll see you later."
I hung up. "Trouble in paradise?" Sven quipped.
"Never." I said, my facial muscles beginning to cramp. The cacophony of voices from the dining area seemed to have adopted a mantra that sounded suspiciously like 'Roxanne'. I tucked the slip of paper into the only pocket in my dress and charged through the door hoping my worn tennis shoes would last another week.
Author: Chippewa Livingston
Archive: Please ask
Disclaimer: I claim no affiliation or ownership of characters or material related to Dark Angel.
Summary: A quick and easy job gets complicated. Will new lies be able to cover the naked truth?
Chapter 2: Artistic Taste
"Roxanne!" No less than three voices shouted my name at the same time. One of them was Sven and since he deals out the money around here he gets priority. The cracked voice of the sixty-something- year- old short order cook rose again from the kitchen.
I pushed through the kitchen door bearing my tray like a shield against the protesting voices of the customers. "I need three orders of fries and two cheese- steaks." Sven's weathered hands doled out meat and mushrooms which came with the sandwiches regardless of what my order indicated. I'd lost more than a few tips because of Sven's mushrooms but he was too stiff necked even for sweet little Roxie.
"Mitzi stopped by earlier. I think she's worried about you. You oughta indulge her on this." He held out a hand and offered a slip of paper. It was one of those little tabs ripped off of fliers. The 'f' was missing but it would have read 'free clinic for expectant mothers'. Then there was a phone number and the phrase 'No Questions'.
I rolled my eyes. "I'm not so fond of doctors."
"I know honey, I'm right there with you. But you should go, just have things checked out." Sven expertly stirred the meat as it was beginning to crisp. "There's a young man for you on the phone." He said eventually and I wondered just how long that 'young man' had been kept waiting.
I crossed the small kitchen to the red handled phone. "Talk. I've got customers." I said, all the while smiling Roxanne's smile.
"I'm going to be home late. Quick cash opportunity." He sounded so ready to leave it at that that I didn't hang up.
"Who do you have to kill?" I joked.
"No one." He sounded a little too strained. "It's just an art thing. This woman offered me the job on the street today."
On the street. A thought occurred to me. "So do you get to keep your clothes on?" I was fairly sure I already knew the answer.
"No." He said honestly which did a little to stem the irrational surge of jealousy… but not much.
"So…who are the students?"
"I have no idea."
"Well they better be a bunch of wrinkly old ladies." It didn't come out as light as I had hoped.
He laughed uneasily. "I'll see you later."
I hung up. "Trouble in paradise?" Sven quipped.
"Never." I said, my facial muscles beginning to cramp. The cacophony of voices from the dining area seemed to have adopted a mantra that sounded suspiciously like 'Roxanne'. I tucked the slip of paper into the only pocket in my dress and charged through the door hoping my worn tennis shoes would last another week.