Traffic in the Attic

Catch More Flies with Honey

At the same time, up in the attic...

"You know what Rory said to me?" said Jared, leaning pensively on the arm of the loveseat. "He said he was sorry for 'ruining my party'... Can you believe that?"

Chris answered, "Well, that's our Rory. God forbid his death inconvenience anyone!"

Jared noted the subtle resentment in Chris' voice, but thought it best to keep quiet. There'd be plenty of time to address it later.

Shane's ears perked up. "Party? What party?"

"It was an 'Oops' party," said Steve. "The Jare Bear had his first fully-conscious power goof this morning, so he gets to..."

"Pause it a sec.," Shane interrupted. "Did you say, an 'Oops' party'?

Jared shrank down into his seat, wishing he had a cowboy hat to cover his face with.

"Yup!" Steve replied.

Shane then asked, "Are we all gonna take turns honoring Britney Spears or somethin'?"

Dylan sharply replied, "Yes, Shane. Yes, we are."

Steve gleefully added, "You may pick up your plaid skirt after the meeting."

Shane leaned towards Tristan, an expression of utter confusion on his face."Ya know what bothers me most?" he asked privately.

"I give up," said Tristan.

"I can't tell if he's serious or not."

"When it comes to Steve, I find that smiling and nodding are usually the safest choice."

Steve continued his explanation of the events, both past and future. "So then, since Jared's 'Oops' Party was interrupted by Rory's whole dying thing, we've rescheduled it for tomorrow." He then added, "Plus, there's a commercial free, 5.1 surround sound, 5-hour Golden! Girls! Marathon!"

Shane roughly scratched his head. "Oh man, my hearing must be going," he said. "That's a 5-hour what now?"

"Golden Girls Marathon!" Steve resounded.

"You're serious?"

"Well sure!" Steve said. "We get 5 whole hours of golden goodness, plus a personality test at the end to determine which of those silver-haired, Florida-dwelling, financially-challenged, romantically-impaired, lovely ladies you most resemble."

Shane heavily scrunched his brow. It wasn't his you-better-start-running-if-you-want-to-live scrunch, and it wasn't his what-the-hell-did-you-do-that-for scrunch, nor was it his I'm-feeling-sick-but-I'm-too-proud-to-ask-for-help-so-I-have-to-act-like-a-big-baby-until-somebody-notices scrunch. It was a scrunch all its own.

"What are you thinking?" Jared asked, with equal parts curiosity and embarrassment.

Shane briefly massaged his eyebrows. "I'm wondering what crime I can commit that'd only keep me locked up for about a day or two," he said, then turned to the others. "What's the goin' sentence for candy bar theft these days?"

"Seriously Shane," Jared said sincerely, "You really don't have to come."

Shane was by no means a fan of Lifetime Television or any of its shows, but he was someone who'd give the world to anyone who deserved it. And in Shane's mind, Jared might as well have hung the moon.

At that moment, Shane's challenge was to find a way to agree to go to the 'marathon' but have it seem as though he was resisting the request. He had to at least give it a shot. "I gotta say, it'd have to be a pretty big 'oops' to get me within ten miles of a Golden Girls Marathon." He looked at Jared as though he expected to be impressed. "So what'd ya do, Pretty Boy?"

With an unusual timidity, Jared answered, "I kinda broke Steve."

"Wait a minute!" said Shane. "So then you're the reason Steve shattered into a million marbles?"

"Guilty as charged."

"And he was naked when he came back together?"

"As the day the stork brought him."

"And Mom saw the whole thing?"

"Afraid so."

Shane shrugged. "Okay, I'll go."

Jared grinned gratefully. "Thanks." he said. "But if you change your mind, I'll understand."

Once again, the 'Papa Bear' grin said it all.

Tristan sounded as though he'd been pondering his question for a while now. I'll tell you a secret: He had been. "So, where does the underwear go after Steve comes back all naked-like?"

"Well, I can't prove it," Steve leaned forward as if someone might be listening. "But I have a hunch that there's an Elder up there with a closet full o' my clothes."

Dylan suggested to Steve, "Maybe you're part underwear now... In fact, maybe the HANES tattoo is the mother ship's way of calling you home."

Steve stared snootily at Dylan. "Just for that, I'm gonna... gonna... I'm gonna not..like..you, for the next two minutes."

Dylan tilted his head, deciding whether or not to respond. "Nah, it's too easy." Since his head was, in fact, tilted, the Book of Shadows was directly in his line of sight. "Okay, I'm just gonna check one more time, and that's it." He sprang from his seat and took his first step towards the podium.

"Nope!" Shane grabbed him by the seat of his pants. "You get worse every time you go up there." He yanked him back down to his seat. "You're done for the evening."

"Who died and made you Jaba the Hutt?" Dylan snapped. "I'm not your little dancing slave girl, or haven't you heard?"

"Ya know Dyl, you'd catch a lot more flies with honey than with vinegar."

"Here's an idea," said Dylan. "Why don't you take my share of the flies? MY gift to you."

"Now you're just hurtin' my feelings."

Dylan tried to get up a second time. Shane, without even looking, caught him by the belt and held him in place.

Dylan grunted, "Let! Me! GO! you big circus gorilla!"

Shane seemed as relaxed as ever, lazily inspecting the fingernails on his free hand. "I gotta tell ya, these metal holes in your little disco belt here sure make you easy to hold on to." he said. "Do these things have a purpose or do you just like wearin' metal holes in your clothes?"

Dylan leaned, tugged, and pulled with no success. At the moment, he loathed the fact that he was the smallest of the nine. Eventually, he gave up the struggle, and orbed-(always in swirls of light, rather than clusters of light)-to his destination, making no notice of Shane, once he arrived at the podium.

"That little cheater." Shane grumbled under his breath. He reached out his open hand in Steve's direction. "Pistol, please."

Steve responded, "Sir, do you have a license to wield a firearm in the state of California?"

"Depends," Shane replied. "Do you have a license to wear that dress in any respectable establishment?"

Steve scoffed. "Have ya heard of the book How to Win Friends and Influence People?" he asked, "Because it wouldn't hurt ya to flip through it a couple of times."

Just then, a sparkling blue toy pistol appeared in Shane's hand. "Much obliged!"

Shane 'cocked' the pistol and aimed it squarely at Dylan's forehead. "Okay Derelyn, step away from the book, nice and slow, and keep your hands where I can see 'em."

"No can do, Shannon." said Dylan, as turned to glare at Steve. "Well, you might as well make a knife to stick in my back, while you're at it."

"Good gracious me!" Steve exclaimed. "Someone's packin' a little extra venom this evening!"

Ignoring the comment, Dylan stuck his nose back in the big book, giving it full attention.

Up until now, Wyatt had been sitting comfortably in his warm seat, silently watching the banter, and enjoying it as usual. "Steve, I'm a little disappointed," he chided, folding his arms judicially. "Especially since you're always the one saying 'violence isn't the answer'."

Tristan hopped to Steve's defense. "To be fair though, he says 'Shane, would you please let go of my ear?' just as much, probably more."

"Only doin' what's best for the boy," said Shane, his grin just shy of rugged.

Replying to Tristan's suggestion, Wyatt said, "That is true, my diplomatic younger brother, but..."

"Wyatt?" Tristan interrupted.

"Yeah?"

Tristan said meekly, "No kiddy table references please."

"Oh! Sorry. My bad." said Wyatt, with a warm smile. "In that case, my diplomatic brother worthy of a place at the adult table... Doesn't Steve's submission to Shane's mildly hostile tendencies-despite their affectionately masked good intentions-mean that he would sooner cave under pressure than stand by his morals?"

Always the good sport, Steve let his head droop. "Alas, thine words ringeth true... Thus, I hangeth my headeth in shameth."

When no one was looking, Jared gave Tristan an encouraging wink, making the young man feel ultimately victorious.

Then, as if by habit, Tristan took a detailed walk backwards through the various conversations, just in case a topic needed extra attention. When he eventually stumbled onto something, quietly asked Wyatt, "Is it me, or is Shane in hyper-villain mode tonight?"

Wyatt shrugged. "Shane always has fun with the whole villain thing," he said. "Come to think of it, that's probably why he played the villain in all the school plays... Literally, all the school plays."

"Oh I didn't mean it like that," said Tristan. "I know he'd never really do anything, he just seems to really have it on the brain tonight."

Wyatt considered Tristan's words for a moment. "Now that you mention it, for his birthday, he plans to wear a black cape and top hat and tie us all to the railroad tracks."

Tristan replied, "Hmmm... Well, nothing new there then."

Though Wyatt knew Shane's villain-related jests were just harmless fun, he felt strangely guilty once he'd actually mentioned them. "I hope that wasn't supposed to be secret."

"It's okay, Wy," said Tristan. "I'm a really good secret keeper." He then remembered his tendency to accidentally think out loud. "...except when I'm not," he added, with the tiniest of frowns.

I'm sure most of you have noticed by now that Chris has been a little on the quiet side. More like the silent side actually, but he was indeed in the room, physically speaking. His heart and mind were both decidedly elsewhere.

The boys had, up until then, been content to let Chris' attention drift, but after awhile, they began to feel a genuine concern. Chris was quite capable of zoning out, no doubt about it. But, he usually zoned back in eventually. So far, that had yet to happen.

"Chris?" said Wyatt.

Chris may as well have been sleeping...

"Hey Chris?"

...and sleeping deeply.

"Anybody home?"

"Yo, Periwinkle," Steve said quietly. "Rider and Riley are running naked down the sidewalk."

Chris sounded like he was talking in his sleep, groggy and entirely unaware of his surroundings. "Mm-hmm...uh-huh... Okay."

"At least you got a real word out of him," said Jared. "That's more than we've gotten so far."

Steve tried once again. "Oh look, Chris, your sons RI-Der and RI-Ley are getting arrested for time traveling... naked... and without a nudity license."

"Okay..." Then Chris, finally..."Wait. WHAT?"

Steve never ceased to amaze Jared, who said to him, "Leave it to you to achieve super sonic effects with sub-librarian volume."

Steve feigned humbleness. "What can I say? It's a gift."

"Welcome back." said Wyatt to the newly awakened Chris.

"Again?" asked Chris. "How long was I 'gone' this time?"

"That was your longest trip yet," said Wyatt. "You've been zoned out for at least fifteen minutes."

Jared added, "We've all been watching you for the last two, waiting to see if you'd notice."

Wanting to join in, Dylan asked, "Any good movies playing on that door this week? 'cause I gotta tell ya, the ones last week were nuthin' to write home about."

Steve agreed. "You ain't just whistlin' Dixie, Buster. That was some of the most wooden acting I've ever seen."

Jared chimed in. "I'd say this week holds some promise, since they're only showing movies that star those two boys," he said. "Don't quote me, but I think they're identical twins."

"Ooh! I know!" Tristan eagerly raised his hand. "Are they the ones that made a professional sport out of raising their dad's blood pressure?"

"Yeah, those are the ones!" said Jared.

"Hey, I know those guys!" said Shane. "Those two scamps tickle me; I've never laughed so hard in my life."

Chris felt a bit too overwhelmed with his concerns to be playful. "Cut! Scene's over." he said. "Everybody go home."

Steve chanted merrily, "Oh, I don't know about all that, but I do know a freakishly young daddy who'd rather be doing the freakishly young daddy thing!"

Chris inspected the others. "Okay, who gave him sugar after 10PM?"

Wyatt swiftly hid the bowl of M&M trail mix behind his feet, under the futon. "Boy, that is a mystery."

Tristan tried to be encouraging. "You see, Chris, you're doing the 'dad thing' right now'."

Chris felt quietly stunned by the realization. "I am, aren't I."

Wyatt underwent the tricky task of telling Chris that he was welcome to go see his boys-not that he needed his permission-without making him feel unneeded or unimportant. The sentiment came out with a sort of 'hey-champ-let's-go-get-you-some-ice-cream' tone to it. Not the effect Wyatt was going for, but it seemed to do the trick. "Chris, why don't you go do the Dad thing? I'll just catch you up later."

Jared agreed, "Your mind's been with them for the past half-hour. Might as well send the rest of you along with it."

Chris was completely unresponsive, and his stare was already headed toward the door again. He hadn't heard a thing the two had said.

"We're gonna fix it, Chris," said Tristan, accidentally thinking out loud.

That got Chris' attention.

"Darn it," Tristan thought to himself. "Think Tristan, don't say. Just think." He then said, "Really we will, and not a single one of us is going back until we do."

Chris was always careful to not sound patronizing when speaking to his youngest two brothers. "I appreciate it Tristan. I really do," he said, "but we don't even know what to fix."

"Not yet, we don't," said Shane. "But Bobby will be here tomorrow, and you know he's gonna use every single reso-..."

"Bobby's comin' tomorrow?" Chris interrupted. The news was even enough to bring a slight smile to his face.

"Sweet!" exclaimed Tristan. Then, as the possibilities occurred to him: "Uh oh! Does Rory know?"

"Nope," said Shane, not quite sure how to feel about the matter. "But he will tomorrow."

Tristan waved at the ceiling. "Bye Bye, roof!" he said. "It was nice knowin' ya!"

Chris said to Shane, matter-of-factly, "By the way, I know you forged my signature to approve Rider's motorcycle certification class... Prepare to have looong talk with me about that later."

Shane pretended to shrug it off. "Whatever." (He was terrified.)

Jared wanted to get Chris out of the room before anymore potential pep talks could occur, accidentally or otherwise. He hopped to his feet and started for the door, pulling Chris up off the couch as he went. "All right Daddy-o, let's hit the road. I'll walk with you."

With an overstated elegance, Steve asked Jared, "Whither goest thou, fair Breeze of the Sea?"

Both Chris and Jared stopped short and turned back around.

Jared stared at Tristan with a harmless suspicion. "You just had to get him The Complete Works of Shakespeare, didn't you?"

"No, that was you, remember?" said Tristan, "I got him the Sesame Street squeaky toys for the bathtub."

Steve said gratefully to both of them, "And I love them both equally, but in very different ways."

Wyatt followed up on Steve's question. "Where are you going, Jared?"

"Oh, I'm just gonna see what's up with the Baby Bear." Jared tried to answer in a way that would keep Wyatt from associating Lee's absence with himself. Jared, in fact, did not, but figured that Wyatt would.

Wyatt nodded, not quite sure how to respond. He couldn't quite pass it off as casual, but it didn't seem guilty or sorrowful. Unless you had eyes.

In the spirit of keeping the spotlight off of those who didn't want it, Jared continued to back his way out the door, giving Chris no choice but to continue on out himself. However, Jared couldn't, in good conscience, leave the room without throwing a lifeline to the unusually and increasingly flustered Dylan. "Dylan, if you want, I'll go back with you to get the book."

Shane cleared his throat.

"Or try to get it anyway."

"Seriously, you would?" said Dylan. That simple solution hadn't even occurred to him.

"Sure." answered Jared. "Why wouldn't I?"

Still trying to surface out of his flustered mood, Dylan asked, "But what if it doesn't come, then what?"

"Then we'll take a little trip to Golden Gate Bridge and have a little talk with the polyester people." answered Jared, though he knew Dylan would fight the suggestion.

With his jaw dropped, Dylan even started to question whether or not Jared might be making fun of him, which is a pretty good indication of just how removed from reality the poor boy was at the time. "You can't be serious!" he exclaimed. "Jared, they hate me up there. Hate me, as in they would push my 5'10" ass off that bridge without a second thought."

"No, they don't hate you; it's Odin who's less than fond of you," said Jared. "The rest of us just try not to laugh our behinds off while you verbally rip him to tiny little elder shreds." He proudly added, "You've got the gift, Dylan. Who else am I gonna live out my smart ass fantasies through?"

Dylan grabbed a clump of his hair. "But h-..I mean, wha-... How could th-"

Jared grinned. "Okay, while you work on finishing that sentence, I'm gonna go see what's up with the Baby Bear. I shouldn't be gone longer than 20 minutes."

Tristan noticed the subtle gleam in Jared's eyes that historically meant he was about to attempt something daring. "Um, You guys have fun... and stuff." It drove him crazy to not speak his full mind. Though he didn't realize it himself, he started to anxiously tap his foot on the floor.

Jared stopped his sauntering, swirled around, folded his arms, grinned, and waited.

Tristan tried his hardest to keep from caving in... It lasted fifteen seconds. "And please be careful!"

Jared nodded at the job well done and gave Tristan two enthusiastic thumbs up. "There he is!" he said, and started out the door, pushing Chris in front of him.

Once the two were out of sighte, Tristan called out to them, "I really did mean the fun thing though..."

Jared's voice echoed back.

"Anything for you, Tris."