Disclaimer: I don't own Dune, yadda yadda yadda. Just don't set the Futars on me. Or sue me.
A/N: Hmm, yeah, hopefully this will be better than the second one. That was kind of…different…anyway. It's been a long time since I updated this (almost a year…does time really fly that fast!) so now I have reviews, which is vaguely exciting.
AquiliusDivine: Thanks! That's my job, providing entertainment for those who have nothing better to do with their time…
peach feet: Well, I wouldn't go so far as to say this lives up to the Dune series in any way, but—no, no, I'll shut up while I'm ahead. Glad you like it.
Les Scribbles: "Mad laughing" is a perfect description of me while I was writing the first chapter. Hopefully you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!
Gail Bester: Thanks for the info on Duncan! I have now read House Atreides (actually listened on tape, but same thing, right?) but I had no clue about any of it when I wrote this. I'm glad you liked both chapters.
DathomiranAuthorRoamer: Yes, I enjoy the irony of the super soaker. I suppose he thought he'd try something new…too bad it didn't work out. Mwahaha.
Southernkeltic: Thanks for helping me out with Duncan's childhood…now I know, but it took me a while to get around to reading House Atreides. I love my twists. They're…twisted.
pali: I will kill Duncan again with pleasure. After all, that's the point of this story, isn't it? (evil chuckle) Not that I enjoy killing poor Duncan or anything, oh no no no.
Kamineko: Yay, a lot of people knew about Duncan's boyhood! I'm impressed…sometimes people have no clue what's going on in their favorite series. (coughMEcough) Ah yes, no rest for the weary, Duncan's pseudo-reincarnations must go on!
Freakazoid: Yeah, I like the first one better too. I like it better than this one, for that matter…but I think this one's better than the second one. Hope you like it.
Tito: Mwahaha. I do try to be original. I'm glad you appreciate my twisted sense of humor…what else would lead me to kill Duncan in random ways? Certainly not any wish to torment Dune characters…
Chaotyk: The second chapter was a little…weird, wasn't it? But hey, I'm updating, now you have to. On something, if not your story about Infrix. Although I find I'm missing dear Davy so much lately. (sniff) I wanted to see whether he got killed by the end of the story.
The Death of Duncan Idaho #54
The minute he entered the room, Duncan knew something was terribly wrong.
"Siona?" he said, already a little apprehensive. Siona was sitting at the dining table, staring at the pattern in the plasteel. She never stared at tables unless something was terribly wrong.
At the sound of his voice, she looked up. "Hello, Duncan," she said in a falsely cheerful, normal voice that fooled neither of them. "How was your shopping trip?"
"Fine." He held up the bags of groceries. "I got some more eggs." Duncan knew he was sounding unusually stupid, making small talk about produce when he should be asking what was wrong. But one didn't simply ask Siona what was wrong. She would either tell him on her own or sit around moodily for the rest of the day, but either was preferable to having her explode in rage at his insensitivity.
Sitting down at the table across from Siona, Duncan waited. Siona went back to tracing the patterns on the tabletop, and he sighed in frustration. Life with Siona could be very difficult sometimes.
"Do you know what day it is tomorrow?" she asked abruptly. Duncan swallowed. It was their anniversary, and he was planning a surprise dinner. He knew he was taking a risk by pretending to have forgotten, but it was the best way he could think of to make sure she wouldn't suspect.
"Tomorrow?" he said innocently. "Um…the twenty-third, of course." He fervently hoped he was being a better actor than usual. Usually Siona could spot one of his lies at twenty paces.
Siona scowled at him, then looked pointedly over at the calendar on the wall. The box for the twenty-third was circled three times and outlined in small pink hearts. Duncan put on his best innocent look and drummed his fingers on the table. Whistling would be overdoing it.
"I feel like we've lost something, Duncan," Siona said finally, looking at the table instead of him. "Something important."
Duncan winced. He desperately wanted to tell her how much he loved her and that he was personally fixing her favorite, liver and onions, tomorrow evening. But then the surprise would be gone…Unable to think of anything to say that wouldn't give him away, he kept his mouth shut.
"I heard some people talking in the street today," Siona announced. It seemed like a complete non sequitur to Duncan, but Siona seemed to see some kind of connection between people talking in the street and their relationship. Duncan wondered if he could get back on her good side by acting fascinated. He decided it was worth a try.
"Go on," he said, leaning closer and giving her his most heart-melting look. "What did they say?"
The look Siona gave him immediately made him wonder if he really wanted to know. "Well," she said slowly, "they were talking about prices at the market. And then one of them said, 'By the thousand sons of Idaho, I don't see how they stay in business!'" She blinked at him. "I certainly don't remember you fathering any thousand sons on me."
"Just a figure of speech," Duncan said dismissively. He still wasn't sure he saw what the point of this was, but Siona obviously needed reassuring. "You know, like 'By the hair of my chinny chin chin' or something like that." He chuckled a little at his own joke.
Siona didn't look amused. Duncan began to get a bad feeling about this. It only increased when his wife fixed him with a look that would have made stronger men quail.
"Celinia called while you were away."
Duncan blinked. He was sure he had told Celinia not to call him at home…after all, it wouldn't do to have Siona find out that he had spent money to get someone to teach him how to cook properly. It would mean so much more to her than catering or a frozen dinner, but she was always the more frugal of the two and would no doubt not be happy about the expense. Besides, there was always the humiliation involved in admitting that he was that hopeless at something as simple as sautéing onions. How hard could it be for an experienced weapons master like him to preheat an oven? Or maybe it was the stove you used to sauté onions…
In any case, he would have to do some quick explaining.
"Ah," he said enigmatically. "Celinia. Yes. Well, there is a very good—"
"It sounded urgent," Siona went on coldly, overriding his pathetic excuses. "She wanted you to meet her at her place right away." Duncan cringed, suddenly realizing exactly how this must sound. Taken together with Siona's new obsession with that silly "thousand sons of Idaho" business, the whole thing took on unprecedented proportions of innuendo.
He got up quickly and crossed to her side of the table. "Siona, listen, this isn't what it sounds like. I can explain everything. You know I would never do anything like that!"
Duncan was interrupted by the chime that meant there was an incoming call. There was a brief scuffle as he and Siona both tried to reach the vidiphone first, but Siona won. Duncan nearly groaned as he caught sight of the caller identification screen—Celinia Reliss. There went his reasonable explanation.
Siona pressed the button to receive the call, ignoring Duncan's halfhearted attempts to shove her out of the way. "Hello?" she said sweetly.
"Duncan? Did you get my message—" Celinia registered that Duncan wasn't the one on her video feed screen. She tried to cover her mistake immediately, but it was too late. "Oh. Um, sorry, I must have the wrong number."
"Yes, I think you must," Siona told her, terminating the call with a savage jab. She turned on Duncan. "You can explain everything, can you? I'm sure. I'll just bet you can."
Something in her eyes made Duncan back away, even before he saw the milky crysknife in her right hand. "Siona," he pleaded. "Darling, take a moment to cool down, count to ten, think this over, please! You don't want to do anything rash." It was too late, he knew, now that the knife was drawn. But maybe he could reason his way out of this somehow.
"This hurts me more than it hurts you, Duncan," Siona told him, advancing with her weapon. Somehow, he doubted that.
With a detached, non-panicking part of his mind, Duncan noted a crash as he knocked over one of the chairs in his attempt to put some distance between himself and his crazed wife. "Siona! I love you!" It was no use. He had always suspected Siona of a certain amount of mental instability…should have known better than to get involved with an Atreides. Mental instability was their specialty.
"You creep!" Siona snarled, seizing him by the collar. All Duncan's honed fighting skills seemed to have melted away, and he found himself powerless to stop the crysknife that was now descending on him. Without warning, Siona drove the knife into his heart, or at least he assumed she did—everything seemed distant, and there wasn't really as much pain as he had expected. That was something to be grateful for, at least.
Women…can't live with 'em…can't live—He shuddered once and went limp.
A/N: Yeah. I was awake when I wrote this. Really. Well, I know it could've been better, but I just wanted to post something. Even if it's probably inconsistent with the books and featuring random technology additions of my own. Consider it a celebration of getting out of school and being able to write again…jeez, what's wrong with teachers nowadays? Don't they see the importance of killing Duncan—er, developing my writing skills for the good of society? Hopefully I'll be able to update again soon…I know you're all counting the minutes.