This is a shift day. There are two updates today.

"Technicolor Wishes & Hi-Def Dreams"

18. Townies

Upon hearing the name of the show, Puck looked instantly confused. "Never heard of it," he admitted. "But you know it, right?"

"Not exactly. I've never actually seen it, I just know… stuff."

"Like what?" he asked as she came back to him, absently propping up his ankle and making him lie back.

"Like that it's called the Andy Griffith Show, and there's him, and he has a son called Opie, who was played by a young Ron Howard, and there's this other guy that was in Three's Company, too, and the theme song goes like this…" she whistled the tune. "I'm not even sure what the guy's name is but I think you're supposed to be him," she pointed at his clothes.

"Wouldn't he just be called Andy Griffith?" Puck looked lost.

"It was called the Cosby Show, but they were the Huxtables, so…" Rachel pointed out.

"Okay, well look for a bill, or something," he suggested, and she nodded, moving to find something that might have his name on it.

"I'll go check in there. If the kid comes by, just…"

"Well what's he like? My guy, I mean…"

"I don't know!" she blurted out, which made her stop. "Sorry, I didn't mean to shout, I… I'll just go look." She went into another room, searching for anything that might have…

"Aunt Bee? What are you doing?" She startled and looked up to find 'the kid' had walked in and now stood staring at her. She had no idea who that was supposed to be, or how she was meant to act, but if she didn't say something soon, he would start noticing something was off.

"Oh, just cleaning around," she made as though she was tidying up, then turned back to him. "What's u… I mean… What can I help you with, Opie?"

"Nothing. I was going to ask…" he started moving toward the living room, and she moved to intercept.

"Your father has had a long day, he's resting now. But I can help you, with anything you might need." The boy hesitated, but finally he gestured for her to follow him. He led her up to his room, where he crouched by his bed and pulled a box out. As he lifted it, she could hear objects colliding with one another, almost like glass or porcelain. He placed the box on his bed, pulled it open and then stood back. Rachel went to look inside and found what looked like the pieces of a broken vase.

"I didn't mean for it to happen, and I said I'd try to fix it or I'd have to buy a new one." Rachel smiled to herself; it was a good thing she'd taken this task on.

"Keep your money, Opie. We can fix this," she promised him. "Now go on and find some glue, you know the kind?" She barely had to ask the question and he was gone.

Sitting at a table together, they had begun to sort through the pieces. She was well aware that they were not meant to be in actual black and white and gray, that there were colors, and the boy would see them. But for her part and Puck's, they were seeing this world as one might through their screens: in black and white and gray. The pieces of the vase had some detailing on them, she could see, and if not for the natural shape of it she could have easily mixed things up.

With Opie's assistance, the vase had begun to take its shape, taking the time and care to let the pieces set. When the last piece went into place, the boy inspected their handiwork with a fine eye.

"What do you think?" she asked him.

"It's as if the lines don't exist," he was stunned.

"Just let it sit overnight, and tomorrow you can return it. I'm going to go look in on your father now."

As she went down to find Puck, she wondered why they hadn't jumped yet. Did she have to wait for Opie to have returned the vase, or was there something else?

She found Puck asleep on the couch, and she smiled to herself, coming up to sit by him. They weren't exhausted, no matter what they did, but with his ankle he had been exerting himself beyond his abilities. Maybe that was why they hadn't gone. Whoever 'they' were, they were giving him a chance to rest. It couldn't be for too long, she realized, not if they wanted to get home eventually. Sitting there with him, her mind went back to their previous world, to that kiss… Had it just been the heat of the moment or…

"Hey…" She looked and found he was waking up. He was smiling, and she had to smile back. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah, everything's…"

The noise came; they were moving forward. She reached and took his hand.

X

They awoke to the sound of a ringing phone. It repeated for a few more turns and eventually stopped. He had been standing at a door while she sat hunched forward at a desk, her head rested on folded arms. They saw each other, nodded – they were okay – and then they looked around.

"Looks like an office," she decided.

"With some serious hardware," he looked at the computers, all of it. "I've seen this place before," it was bugging him that he couldn't figure it out.

"Do you think you watched it before or… Maybe it's not on TV anymore."

"No, I know, but… Damn it, I know this…"

The phone rang again, and he turned to look at it… and he laughed at himself.

"What?" she asked.

"I know that ringtone," he pointed to the phone.

"You do?"

"What does your screen say?" he asked, and she looked.

"CTU?"

"Counter Terrorist Unit," he translated.

"Oh!" she pointed at him, like she'd just figured out the answer at a quiz show. "24, that's 24!" Her excitement immediately went away. "We're not going to have to spend a whole day here, are we?"

"With the kind of mess they go through in all that time, I hope not," he breathed. The phone had stopped ringing, unanswered again, so when it began, he nodded to it. "Maybe we better answer it this time."

TO BE CONTINUED (FRIDAY)