Disclaimer: If I owned Jimmy Neutron, they would have fired me by now.
A/N: -cowers behind keyboard in plausibility of thrown vegetables- Heh heh, uhh… remember me?
If you do, and if you can find it in your hearts to forgive my long absence, please vote for my story at savejimmy(dot)com in their Best Fic of the Month award. Thanks to those that nominated me!
And if it's any consolation to you, chapter 14 is nearly finished, but I won't jinx myself and say I'll have it up soon. Let's go for "have it up eventually". (Much sooner than HALF-A-FRIGGIN-YEAR from now, though.)
Cindy had hardly lain down and closed her eyes when Jimmy shook her shoulder and woke her. It was in even quicker time that they were flying once more, heading toward Yolkus at warp speeds, a silence hanging lankly over them.
The melange of feelings worming about inside her were all rather confusing on their own. When added to her current situation and the measly granola bar she had forced herself to choke down as an epigonic breakfast, there was an impecably hollow feeling inside where nausea should have been.
And that's all she felt – or rather, didn't feel. Hollow. Strangly lethargic, even, most likely thanks to the briefing she had received some time earlier. (Had she been blindly flying into this without any knowledge of their plans, she would have been far too livid to be placid.)
When the first pinpricks of light appeared in the ever-nearing distance, she blinked rapidly, realizing her eyes had been opened wide and searching for signs of their destination, and sighed lightly.
To her great fury, Jimmy had heard and looked down at her. To her even greater fury, the fluctuating emotions within were not as well hid as she thought them to be, because the look Jimmy pinned her with was one of great concern. Good grief, how she hated him.
"I'm fine, Nerd-tron," she hissed, rubbing at her stinging eyes. It sounded very unconvincing, weak from her lack of practice. (As blundering as Sheen and Carl were, they simply did not provide enough situations for her to become royally furious without their third counterpart.) She knew the look Jimmy was giving her implied he did not believe her in the slightest. To break an uncomfortable silence, she inquired, "What about you?"
Jimmy shrugged. "Well, I certainly hold no nostalgia, but I believe I am more 'fine' than you claim to be."
Cindy looked down at her lap, embarrassment for her disquietude and anger at the boy next to her for pinpointing it cancling each other out, leaving the antagonizing silence and hollow feeling within to reign once more.
Hollow. Unresponsive as they passed the leering gaurds at the main gate, silent as they gradually drifted through a stone channel, sangfroid as the Strato was shut off completely. Hollow.
Until she exited the rocket and set foot on the concrete landing-zone floor.
A cold dread numbed her, filling her being and running through her veins.
Most irritatingly, she still could not move on her own accord. Subconcious commands (and Jimmy, of course,) were what guided her from the dim and chilly landing area, down several winding corridors, through at least half a dozen sets of doors, (she faintly wondered how he knew which directions to take,) and finally into the grand entrace hall they had been received in nearly a decade ago.
Crossed laser-spears were parted in their apparently prepared-for arrival, piecing together the form of King Goobot, seated high upon his raised throne, they had obstructed. Cindy hardly heard Jimmy whisper "You're being irrational" into her ear, but she felt her hand being firmly grasped by his. In waves, abandoned senses returned. She inhaled sharply; her hand was squeezed tentatively. With complete honesty, she repeated "I'm fine" and shook away Jimmy's hand and gratuitous sentiments with renascent – even if a bit belated – confidence.
Not hollow impeturbation. Confidence.
"Hello, hello!"
King Goobot smoothly decended and approached the pair, mechanical hands clasped behind him patronizingly. Cindy's gaze was inimical and fixed unflinchingly upon the self-proclaimed king as he came continually closer, excitement and old feelings of oncoming adventure stirring themselves up and giving her a warm, almost burning tactility just beneath her ribs. She could do this; it was almost like being ten again.
Almost being the operative word, of course.
The effort in the great show Goobot had made – the melodramatic entrance, the well-projected sinister smirk, the carefully clasped hands that gave him an almost cat-like grace (were any poor cat covered in snot and bulky machinery still able to muster grace and poise,) – was promptly and thoroughly squashed when he halted three-and-a-half feet before them. He stopped at such a specific distance because, had he gone any further, the angle which he would have had to glare ominously up would have been far too steep for his gelatinous form.
He hardly came four inches past Cindy's waist.
Jimmy shot a well-deserved glance of victory Cindy's way, supplementing it with an unneeded, "I did say you were being irrational…"
Goobot seemed to have forgotten the expanse of time that had passed as well. Cindy almost laughed out loud when she caught the slight, momentary falter his omnipotent sneer took.
The Yolkian, in summons of all his pretentious, louring authority, erected his squat figure as high as it would float. "Jimmy Neutron, here to save the day once again. Who could have predicted this?"
Although Jimmy had admitted his heroic tendencies not an hour before, he looked positively outraged at the mordacious way Goobot arraigned him. Quite frankly, Cindy felt rather exacerbated herself. This slimy, spineless creature had the nerve to force them from their homes with threats, threats expansive enough to lure Jimmy on a martyrous space expedition planned in less than 48 hours between gathering their friends and family members to saftey, teaching, (Cindy had nearly forgotten about school and the fact Jimmy's superior position as her professor had been her greatest concern only – good heavens, was that really just two days ago?) and with only eight hours of sleep accounted for, and he had the blatent audacity to upbraid Jimmy in such a way? The more Cindy thought about it, the more she wanted to swat Goobot into the nearest wall.
"You did, obviously," Jimmy spat. His voice was dripping with animosity, deluding the stoic indifference his features had adopted. "Or are you really so bored you have the time of day to drill your gaurds through thespianic routines pointlessly? Have you run out of helpless planets to destroy?"
In that time of day, Goobot must have been preparing himself as well. While Jimmy's compressed temper was debased by his choleric voice (extorted through well-ground teeth), Goobot betrayed no signs of provocation. Nothing more than a perfidious smirk shone through his mask as he calmly said, waving a finger at Jimmy, "Now, now! You're in my dominion now, and I'll have none of this belittling lip."
Cindy was close enough to Jimmy to hear his slight, inadvertent growl as he exhaled arduously. Break his finger off, she encouraged mentally. It was probably better for their situation that he did not receive this telepathic enticement.
"Besides," Goobot added, smirk growing into a full grin, as though he was quite enjoying himself (Cindy reminded herself he probably was.), "I do believe you were the one to come upon your own accord. Though…" He gave Cindy a enigmatic glance over before looking back to Jimmy with a short, sardonic laugh.. "—I did predict your motions rather well, didn't I? The paradigm never far from the deliniator…"
Cindy, thoroghly baffled, turned to Jimmy. She did not expect to receive a decent explanation – as much past experience reminded her of the limpidity Jimmy cluttered his elucidation with – but she felt an impulsive need to mollify her confusion in some way. And, upon noticing Jimmy, she knew he had understood Goobot perfectly well. For some reason, though, he was attempting to deny it.
To an inconversant like Goobot, Jimmy's refutation was indistinguishable, but Cindy could see it by the way he lightly sucked in his cheeks, and how his hooded-over eyes flitted about, unable to focus on a solitary item for more than two seconds. There had been numerous times these subconcious actions had been a product of a verbal exchange they had shared, and they were the only discernible collateral Cindy had of a victory.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Jimmy snarled. Another sign of submission: Jimmy never used contractions.
"Of course you don't," Goobot simpered, seemingly undeterred. Their conversation having gone so well, he gained enough courage to continue on his short-cut decent. He floated between the pair of teens, hands once more serenely clasped behind him when he was not using them to vitalize his speech. "You've always been rather dimwitted. I mean, only an idiot would attempt to storm a foreign and hostile planet with nothing but two-score 10-year-olds in his command."
Jimmy gleefully siezed the weapon Goobot had placed into his hands and, with a lofty smirk, satirized, "And what kind of an idiot does it take to lose to said pre-teens?"
Despite how confident Cindy was feeling about their invulnerability, she thought that suicidally rich of him to say. There was not need for them to use their upper-hand to prode vexingly at their host – no matter how dispicable the host might be. Seemingly unruffled, (or perhaps,simply hiding it very well,) Goobot merely paused momentarily before continuing to circle about them.
"And yet you thought me enough of a threat to come here in a vain attempt to protect your friends," he drawled, lazily drifting toward a pair of tall oak doors.
"A choice I am initiating to be a waste of precious time," Jimmy retorted, watching the Yolkian with some suspicion.
Even if this last statement had beenbrash, challengingtalk, Cindy still thought it a bit galling and glared furiously at Jimmy. He had better not be wasting her time; she was missing vital rehersals, and the performance of Much Ado About Nothing would be nearly half her semester grade!
"We'll see," Goobot murmered. Throwing open the double-doors, he asked brightly, "Now, who's hungry? I've got hot dogs!"
Cindy had no idea how Jimmy could be so composed.
They were both seated in high-backed wooden – and particularily uncomfortable – chairs, placed before a long, elaborately-set table. Altough they were not chained to their seats, there were numerous gaurds on either side of she and Jimmy, well armed and preventing either of them from rising.
Cindy glanced up the table, taking in the finely-crafted silver and plate ware – though both of rather odd shape and decoration and nothing Cindy would have seen in her house, it was obvious they were of high quality to the Yolkians – and dozens of entrées, many of them indistinguishable by name or ingredient compenents. (Many of them were from Earth, however -- including the forementioned hot dogs -- a fantastic feat, whether by shopping through his own personal guard or smuggled in by some other means.)
At the end of the long stretch of table, some eight feet away from her and Jimmy, Goobot sat calmly, observing them with uncontained glee. In a caricature of succoring hospitality, he raised the goblet cradled in one hand, smiling infestivly.
Jimmy seemed indifferent to both the morbid amusment of their host and many spear points that hovered dangerously about his torso, as he was pulling a platter piled high with crackers, crisps, and tuiles au parmesan toward him with apparent relish and appreciation. As he carelessly served himself, he turned to Cindy, surprised to see she was not doing to same.
"Not hungry?" he asked, reaching blindly for a pitcher to the upper-left of his plate.
Horrified, Cindy watched the bubbly, purple contents (Purple Flurp, she thought, highly taken aback.) pour from the fluted spout and into a large, wide-brimmed goblet. To her further horror, Jimmy lifted it to his lips and took a gratifying drink.
"No, just a little concerned about being poisened!" she hissed, eyes wide. "What are you doing?"
"He wouldn't do that," Jimmy assured her nonchalantly, setting down his cup in exchange for a butter knife, using it to spread a thick layer of basil pistou on a crispy cheddar cracker. "No villain would do that. It's some sort of honor code. The prisoner recieves one final night of luxury before they're killed or what-not. I must say, though,this is the most elaborate bravura to which I have been subject."
Suddenly, rising memories of past missions grating him, Jimmy threw down the cracker he was about to eat and vehemently raved, "I missed my class one time!"
Confused, Cindy opened her mouth to question Jimmy, but she was inturrupted mid-breath and didn't get the chance.
"Jet and I had set it all up – down to the miliseconds," he exclaimed, obviously still quite peeved at the memory. "We would have returned from Cameroon just in time for me to make it to the school… except the Maka-Njem tribe we were dealing with was very set and loyal to the stupid luxury code. Not only did I bypass my first two classes entirely, I had a hang-over for a week. I was sure Princeton was going to fire me, but there was no way I could have said no to B.T.S.O. -- believe me, I tried."
He retrieved his cracker from his plate and stuffed it into his mouth huffily, swallowing forcefully and moving on to another plate. Cindy, a bit more convinced knowing Jimmy was living yet and had not dropped dead from his most recent consumption, did not bother him further with the subject, thoughshe touchednothingherself.
"From which your potency for intoxication arises," Cindy conjectured, too distracted by the guard warily hovering over her left shoulder to be amused. "What business had you so recently absorbed in spywork all the way out in West Africa?"
"Ivory trade," he said, voice muffled by a large mouthful of buri-daikon. With some more forceful swallowing, he cleared his palate to continue. "It's technically not illegal out there, but that technicality is becoming a favorite of interloping smugglers. This is delicious, try some."
Jimmy pushed the yellowtail-and-radish dish toward Cindy, who resolutely clamped her mouth shut and shook her head. Even had she wanted to eat some, she would have been prevented by an inturruption from Goobot.
"Now Jimmy," he crooned, the smile in his voice incongruous to the sadistic glare he pinned them with, "you know it's not polite to have private conversations in company of your host!"
Jimmy gave a wane smile. "On the contrary, we were just talking about your prominent asceticism." Cindy, looming spear-points aside, threath of death aside, had to stiffle a giggle. "We've never seen such a ridiculous display of ersatz superiority. Tell me, though, who made the buri-daikon? It's delicious."
Goobot cooly pushed his chair back from the table and rose. "Enjoy it while you can, Neutron. When I've finished with your planet, you'll be lucky to find a solitary fish in any remaining bodies of water."
"Really?" Jimmy challenged, posing as uninterested, picking up his goblet once more and drinking from it.
"Yes, really," Goobot snarled, eyes blazing. He had abandoned all tactically imposed tranquility and was looking quite murderous. (Cindy shivered at the semantical exactness her word-choice might have.) "I won't go into the more gruesome details, as there is a lady present –"
"I don't mind," Cindy said stoically. Not an entirely true statement, but she was disposed to know what Goobot had planned. Jimmy conjectured this and, as he reclined leisurly back in his seat, looked over at her with a jocosely raised eyebrow.
There was no way to describe Goobot's mood other than fiendish. The way he fiendishly steepled his fingers together, the fiendish little laugh he let slip, the fiendish glint in his eye. He looked quite menacing – very fiendish – and Cindy had never before realize what an image-ruining word "fiendish" really was. Quite comical, actually.
Humorous as it were, Goobot was anything but comical and was to be taken quite seriously… in all his fiendish glory.
"You think so… in that case, I'll feel no regret for your psychiatric pain." (What a fiendish threat, she thought facetiously.) He signaled to his gaurds, who, much to Cindy's and Jimmy's surprise, lowered their weapons and left the room.
"It was difficult to decide what I would do with you," Goobot continued, unconcerned the dismissal of hissoldiers left him virtually defenceless. He difted down the length of table opposite Jimmy and Cindy. "I had so many deliciously sadistic ideas, I thought it impossible to choose just one for your disposal."
"I feel so important," Jimmy snorted, helping himself to another cracker and resting his hands behind his head.
"You should," Goobot concured, leering unpleasantly. "You've been the basis of my thoughts for some time now, but thanks to your brilliant scheming, I've been unable to find you." He leaned eagerly toward them, hands braced on the solid tabletop. "It's really been quite infuriating, to know the exact coordinates of your pathetic little home but unable to find you anywhere within its limits – like you were cloaked."
He glowered with resilient intrepidity at Jimmy, who unflinchingly stared back. Both figures remained motionless for some time, simply staring. Cindy was growing impatient; Jimmy, with his impecably strange, recurrent, and down-right creepy ability to readher feelings without eye contact, smiled wanly at his advisary and broke the visual connection first, taking a sudden interest in a sconce some distance to his left.
A sudden movement off the Cindy's far right caught her eye, but when she turned to get a full and proper view, there was nothing but a thick wall hanging, fluttering softly. Repremanding herself for being over-paranoid – even in her current setting and situation – she turned her eyes and deficit attention back to Goobot.
"When you suddenly appeared on my radars, you can only imagine how ecstatic I was," the Yolkian rambled on, pulling back and resuming his pacing."It was then I knew my petty, quick riddence of you wouldn't be enough to satisfy. You wouldn't have the time to suffer."
Jimmy had tensed in his chair, but it wasn't from anger. He was biting his lower lip in consentration and, ever-so-casually, Cindy noticed him reach for his watch, press a button, and continue stretching forward, as though he had been meaning to snatch the dinner roll off Cindy's plate the entire time. He was waiting, some well-hidden signobviously alerting him,and the meaningful glance he tossed her way implied she would do well to keep her eyes open. Their plans would soon be in effect.
"I had to come up with something better, something that would really hurt you." The smile plastered on Goobot's face reeked of satisfaction. Giddy with sadistic pleasure, he had missed their silent exchange. "It took some time and extreme thinking, but I believe I've finally come up with something you will truly appreticate."
He was rambling now. Obviously they were not the only ones lying in wait.
Curiosity piquied, Cindy looked back to the wall hanging, which was now still and lying flush against the stones behind it. A tapestry of such thick material, especially one that was positioned so close to its anchor, would not have moved like it had with the simple air currents in the room, would it?
"Should you live long enough, I'm certain it will be an unprecendented display."
Quite suddenly, Jimmy sprang from his chair. A split second later, before Cindy even had a chance to follow his actions, the double-doors at the far end of the dining hall burst open. Just as Jimmy had predicted.
Cindy's innate, defunct reflexes sprang to life. She stood – so quickly her chair was thrown off balance – as the gaurds quickly environed her, pressing in with the slightest of apprehension at the sheer determination that must have been evident on her face. So great and spastic was her excitement she nearly missed her prepensed target as she flung herself into a wall of her intentional captors.
This was where her colors were thrown into magnificent light. Morbid as it may sound, fighting was her predilection. She had nearly forgotten how much she had enjoyed it, what a release it was, how the rush was near drug-like, during a lengthy absence from the event. Jimmy could keep his precious chemistry formulas and theoretical bases of the economy and the pitiful paycheck that ensued from teaching them. Science could be his best. She wanted this back.
Though her form was a bit rusty, she swung into a comfortable candency soon enough. Among many things that were, it seemed tae kwon do was not entirly forgotten.
"You'll never see you're planet again!" Goobot mocked, raising his voice to be heard over the melee. He was lazily retreating, floating toward the large oak doors with reluctance, as though trying to catch as much of their trouncing before he had to leave.
Cindy ducked down, narrowly avoiding the laser-spears of two charging Yolkian gaurds, touching her knees to her collar-bone before extending her legs quickly and springing into the air, flipping over the offending gaurds and laying them flat with a pair of well-placed round kicks.
"At least," Goobot went on, pausing at the threshhold, "not the way you remember it."
Cindy was unexpectedly grabbed from behind, the nettled pause at Goobot's words her condemnation. She struggled to free her wrist, managing to do so before her other was snatched and held firmly.
"But have no fear: you will see the result of my plans before your termination."
The laugh in Goobot's voice was all-too giddy. This was nothing more than a game to him, she and Jimmy no more than intrusive pawns to be swatted away before the finale check and mate.
The pure, unaudulterated rage within Cindy, roiling her insides and coursing through her veins, was adequate enough to free her ensnared wrists, but it was cut short by a puissant blow to her head.
She didn't have enough feeling or control to know whether she fell to the ground before her vision went entirly black.
A/N: This was, by far, the hardest chapter for me to write. (Obviously. Six frikkin' months without an update! What the heck is my problem!) Despite the fact that I had dreams about it, if that isn't the most pathetic thing you've heard, I couldn't get my layout plan onto paper for the life of me! Not to mention I had a scary few months where I had not even the most fleeting desire to write. I think I short-circuited my enthusiasm after I bought myself neon-orange Chucks. (As seen here --> butterbean137(dot)livejournal(dot)com(slash)7677(dot)html. I guess wearing part of my deranged story killed the primative sense of responsibility to write more. Anyways, hope it was worth the wait.
I thank Halfa-Goddess (Happy Sweet 16, love! Belated a bit, but what else is new about me? ) and Cutie5 for continually asking why my fat butt wasn't in gear. (In your own way.)
And don't forget: www(dot)savejimmy(dot)com They only allow a PC to vote once a day, so I can't win on my own!