Disclaimer: Threshold is not mine. If it were, I wouldn't have this disclaimer, now would I?
In Search of Respite
Fenway's morning started off with a small irritation. If anything involving Ramsey could be described as a mere 'irritation'. That would hardly be enough to convey the extent of the endless frustration he took delight in providing, all in the name of his role as resident pest, of course. Those who knew him had their own special names for him, but they would be far too rude for public airing.
For the moment, Fenway attempted to traverse the prudent course, turning another page in his book, and praying that he might yet outlast this challenging experience of captivity with the rest of the team. But it was rather distracting, he found, to have someone sitting right across the table with their eyes boring into you, humming an inane little tune from some television ad. He was certain that Ramsey had not blinked once- he would have heard it. The dwarf managed to make the smallest act, even blinking, an epic performance of deafening proportions. It was something to do with announcing his presence for those who may not have been privileged enough to register it yet. Ramsey was definitely having fun trying to discomfit the doctor, secure in the knowledge that Fenway had limited means of escape.
Once he wearied of the non-blinking, fixated stare game, he moved onto the complex process of consuming cereal, making a huge deal of clinking his spoon as he dipped it into the bowl, swirling it around with a grinding noise. Ramsey scraped the very bottom, being quite thorough about the matter, and then lifted the spoon out, milk droplets pattering loudly back into the bowl, and slurped the cornflakes into his mouth, smacking his lips as he did so. And then repeat…By about the fourth rendition, he could actually see the doctor's teeth grinding together in an attempt to refrain from making any response.
"So, Fenway," he said. "Enjoying the book this morning?" he even managed to muster up a casually interested expression.
"This is an achievement," Molly remarked brightly as she entered the room. She had forgone the usual suit this morning in favour of jeans and an open white shirt with a striped singlet underneath. "You two are actually having a civilized conversation for once," she noted at the sight of the two men apparently socializing amiably.
Obviously, she was sadly mistaken in her interpretation of how matters lay. With a muffled exclamation, Fenway rose from the table, grabbed his book and declared on his way out, "I wish you all the joy of making 'civilized conversation' with him. Make the most of it, won't you? Do tell me how it goes."
"You forgot your plate," she called, but he was gone. "Ramsey, clear the table when you're done."
"Why me?" he asked indignantly.
"Because you're here. And because I'm sure you had something to do with why Fenway just stalked out of the room looking distinctly agitated." She moved on with a briskness that brooked no further protests, "Where's Lucas this morning?"
"I don't think he knows it's morning yet. Besides, it's not like we're doing anything terribly important. He probably just wants to sleep in."
"And miss out on all this excitement?" Cavennaugh said dryly, making his grand entrance.
Cavennaugh dressed down pretty much incorporated the same nondescript theme as when he was dressed for work. "You don't own anything casual that's not shades of black, grey or beige, do you?" said Ramsey. He himself wore a loud Hawaiian shirt over tracksuit pants, the vibrant colors of the tropical scene set off by the low statement pants- they were indoors after all. Concessions could be made for comfort.
"Criticism from someone who would wear that hideous shirt?"
"I'm making a statement." The dwarf pulled a face. "You're just- boring."
"Ramsey, don't make me reintroduce you to the two doors."
"This is the second time someone's made that cryptic remark," said Molly. "What are you guys talking about?"
"Do you recall making any allowance in your plan for voluntary participation by the Red Team members?" Ramsey asked her. "Because the 'two doors' scenario is Cavennaugh's method of recruitment into the plan to save the world, best summed up as 'threat to use brute force'."
"Cavennaugh!" she chided him, feigned disillusionment staining that exclamation.
"Coercion is such an ugly word," Ramsey sighed, playing it up for all he was worth.
"Stop trying to throw a pity party," Cavennaugh bypassed the cereal and toast, opting for fruit instead. "I was being generous in giving you options to begin with."
"Work your ass off for no benefits, pain or more pain?" he asked the agent.
Molly frowned thoughtfully. "I count three options there," she said. "What about you, Cavennaugh? Could it be our expert mathematician has erred in his calculations somewhere?"
"I thought he was supposed to be the best in his field. You recommended him," he reminded her, choosing an apple.
"Well, I didn't realize the personality clashes would be quite so arduous. It is difficult to predict patterns of human interaction, you know."
He shrugged, intent on making quick work of the apple. It was rapidly demolished in the space of a few seconds, reduced to little more than the stump.
"You're going to have an apple tree growing out of your stomach," Ramsey warned, then smirked. "I used to freak out my sister all the time, telling her that kind of rubbish. She actually believed the seeds would grow into a tree and choke her to death when it branched out of her throat."
Molly threw him a dubious glance. "Bet it was fun growing up with you."
"You say that like it was a bad thing," he said with reproach.
"After that story, you expect me to believe otherwise?"
"Hey, I may have messed with her mind, but no one else messed with my sister. I handled those bullies in the playground for her all the time," he bragged.
"And what about when she started high school?" Cavennaugh said. "I'm sure you were a real threat to the kids there."
Ramsey opened his mouth to reveal- amongst other less savory, semi chewed materials- sharp rows of teeth and snapped them warningly. "Don't doubt my ability to do some serious damage, Cavennaugh. Underestimating your opponent always works in my favor…Aren't you guys trained to know this kind of thing?"
"Peace, gentlemen," Molly interrupted. "Don't squabble or I'll be forced to treat you like the children you-" the sound of her mobile's ring tone interrupted what promised to be the beginning of a fascinating putdown. "Caffrey," she said in business-like tones, the previous light-heartedness evaporating in a moment. "Oh," she chuckled, "Hi, Cassidy. Yes, I do have caller ID, it's just second nature to assume work calls…"
The other two looked at each other. 'Cassidy?' mouthed Ramsey.
Cavennaugh raised a brow. He knew, but he wasn't telling.
The dwarf went back to slurping his cereal as loudly as possible.
"Is it serious?" came the concerned query and their ears perked up again. "Which hospital? Yes…they have a good reputation, she should be- yes, I know, you've already done the research…I'm not trying to micromanage, don't you start…" Sixth sense warning her of their eavesdropping, Molly narrowed her eyes at the guys and walked down the hall to the main living room, shutting the connecting door firmly behind her.
"The only problem is the kids," her cousin Cassidy said with a pained laugh. "They're darlings when they please, but I can't take them interstate with me. It would just add to the nightmare. Now, I know that you're busy with your work, but I was hoping…"
"You want me to take the girls in?" Molly asked. "As it so happens, I have a few days leave at the moment, so it isn't a problem. Besides, it's family. We live to help each other," she paused for effect. "You do realize you owe me, right?"
Cassidy sighed. "Yes, I know. And I also know that you're doing me a huge favor, so I won't complain. At least, not til this crisis is over and I can forget just how relieved I was at your rescue." They laughed, knowing how true that was for many people in various matters a lot of the time. "I just don't know how much care mom will need. The kids finish school at the end of the week, so their schedule won't matter too much. Pretty flexible, which makes it easier, one less headache. If it looks like I need to stay for a while, then we'll make other arrangements for them to come over, but just right now…"
"It doesn't really help to have two girls running amok, I understand," Molly said sympathetically. "Don't worry about it."
"Wonderful. I'll drop them off in an hour or two. Thanks ever so. Love you…"
"Love you too. Bye."
Molly ended the call, mind churning furiously. Four guys. Two girls. One dog. All in her house...
Heaven help them all.
