My Darling Wayward Wanderer
Oh sure, I had planned on taking her out to a nice place for dinner. The Olive Garden. Not top-notch, but also really far from bottom-line. I get ready, taking a nice, long, hot shower, and then a rather fast cold one. Merr... I climb out, shave, gel the hair, brush the teeth, the works. Heck, I even like this girl so I floss. Do you know how much I abhor flossing? (Cuts up your gums, makes your mouth feel all...weird... and to top if off, blood stains your pearly whites making you look like a subhuman monster, or in some cases more of one than you already are.) And don't try to tell me it gets better the more you do it! That's an urban legend, like the ability to wear white after labour day in special circumstances, such as weddings! Lies! LIES I TELL YOU! Thankfully listerine apparently does just as much, but tonight I'm not taking any chances. Lara is as special as Mara is expendable.
So I put on a relatively nice shirt, one that consisted of varying hues of blue-stripes running diagonally, a pair of reasonably nice designer jeans, and of course a male thong underneath to evoke some after-dinner laughs, but that's beside the point. I go to pick her up around 6, as we had planned, and I go to the door, and out she comes... Belly shirt, light khaki pants, and her hair hanging about her shoulders and her purse in hand as she yells over her shoulder "By Mom! By Dad! By Olga!" and would have broken her neck on her concrete steps if I hadn't caught her after she tripped in those ridiculous platform shoes she was wearing.
"Why I do believe I'm falling for you Jacey!" She giggled, pecking me on the nose in the most peculiar of fashions. Ditsy as she was, I couldn't help but love her for it. I righted her, and I (quite carefully, with a strong hold on her) walked her to my car, opened the door, and let her slide in on Yon Ill Eclipse's leather seats. I rounded, got in my door, and upon entering the vehicle she said, "Ooh, I likey!"
"The car?"
"Your ass."
"That works too." And so we're off!
I was driving, and was just about to turn onto Albany-Shaker Road when suddenly she made up her mind.
"Know what Jay, I don't feel like Italian."
"No?" I asked, slowing down as we neared the road off Crumite. After all, who knew if I'd have to fly into a U-turn and speed off at a whopping 25 miles per hour for the other side of town? (Residential neighborhood you see.)
"Nope, not in the slightest. What say we take off someplace and eat wherever we wind up." She beamed at me, crossing her legs, and making me wonder why she wore a navy blue shirt with white-kahki pants, until I realized how well they went with her shoes-and swerved to avoid hitting a bunny.
"We could do that..." I said warrily, coming to a complete stop. "Where would you like to go?" I turned slightly in my seat, one leg being crossed at a ninety-degree bend below the other, as I was prone to do such as, say when typing at a computer or reading a good book.
"Hmm..." She ran her hand up and down my leg, and then retracted it for a moment and settled directly on my knob, caressing it absentmindedly. (The car's shifter you sick, deranged people!) "I dunno...How about some place romantic and foreign like, oh, a truck stop?"
We both burst out laughing. I don't know why, but whenever I'm with her all seriousness seems to leave my live for the time being. I stop worrying about the case of why strange horrible beasts are invading our forests and parks and neighborhoods, and instead think more about what I can do to make her enjoy being around me instead.
We wandered up to a place called Scotties, a nice returaunt, and not nearly as fancy as yonder Garden de Olives. We had just ordered the food, when in walke (you guessed it) members of the Sasquachian yada yada yada, whatever the hell they chose to call themselves. A pair of them wandered over to our table, and immediately my hand stayed to the hilt of Yon Ill Gun, which was sitting in its holster at my side.
"Well well well, what have we got here. Could it be the Red Fox, out of hiding at long last?"
"Two days, and I just saw you in court yesterday." I corrected them, while Lara gave me a rather quizzical look.
"Whatever. Say, lookie here, he's got a girl with him. Seeming as how we couldn't have you, what say we take your vixen instead?"
"What say you stop referring to us in animalistic terms you celebate fashionless freak before I shave you bald and leave you for the badgers to gnaw? Or would you get to much of a kick out of that?"
He yelled an exclamitory, and grabbed me by the scruff of my shirt, perhaps seeking to darken my eyes a bit, when suddenly I see a blurr out of the corner of my eye and there he is, seizing on the floor with two very painful looking corded spikes sticking out of his front. As it was, Lara carried a taser in her purse. She pushed a button, and the wires sprang lose from her device, and she took a moment to load two fresh ones before returning it to her bag.
"You know these assholes?" She asked me, watching the one guy drag his buddy off and out of the resturaunt.
"Vaguely..." I answered, and proceeded to tell her...well...everything. She didn't say much after that. Not during dinner, not during the ride to one of the Lake George overlooks I knew, not for a time. I told her I'd be right back, mumbled something about bleeding a lizard, and darted around behind the car. When I returned, I was wearing naught but my socks, shoes, and of course my nifty thong. That finally brought her around. She laughed, and mauled me right there. She still knew who I was, more so now than ever, a fact that I was trying to remind her of. My past could hardly get any worse from this point onward, right? If need be, after this case I'd find something else to do, anything, just so it wouldn't upset her so much...
As we lay there, too tired to move, let alone drive, she reassured me of something. "I'm sorry Jason...Don't get me wrong, you're a very interesting guy, but the life you lead scares me."
"Why?" I found myself asking, "This is the only time I've ever come close to being in real danger...Heck, your more of a threat to me with all your snatching at certain parts of me than they were. Mainly because you can get away with it."
"I know...it's just that, I'd hate to invest all these icky, wet, feelings in you to just have you get offed for some stupid reason a few months down the line. It's not like your a policeman or firefighter...Your a- what did you say? Conspiracy hunter? You shouldn't be in that much danger... I don't want you to quit what you do, just pick your battles a bit more carefully from now on."
I opened my mouth to speak, but she silenced me with a finger. "Didn't you hear what I just said about picking your battles more carefully?"
I loved the way she'd caught me in a witty rhetort, and so I memorized it as best I could solely for the retelling. I was content in more ways than one by the end of that night. Mainly because with Lara, I was finally able to tell someone really who I was and what I did. Besides you anyway...and you don't really count because even you don't know everything there is to me yet.
So I put on a relatively nice shirt, one that consisted of varying hues of blue-stripes running diagonally, a pair of reasonably nice designer jeans, and of course a male thong underneath to evoke some after-dinner laughs, but that's beside the point. I go to pick her up around 6, as we had planned, and I go to the door, and out she comes... Belly shirt, light khaki pants, and her hair hanging about her shoulders and her purse in hand as she yells over her shoulder "By Mom! By Dad! By Olga!" and would have broken her neck on her concrete steps if I hadn't caught her after she tripped in those ridiculous platform shoes she was wearing.
"Why I do believe I'm falling for you Jacey!" She giggled, pecking me on the nose in the most peculiar of fashions. Ditsy as she was, I couldn't help but love her for it. I righted her, and I (quite carefully, with a strong hold on her) walked her to my car, opened the door, and let her slide in on Yon Ill Eclipse's leather seats. I rounded, got in my door, and upon entering the vehicle she said, "Ooh, I likey!"
"The car?"
"Your ass."
"That works too." And so we're off!
I was driving, and was just about to turn onto Albany-Shaker Road when suddenly she made up her mind.
"Know what Jay, I don't feel like Italian."
"No?" I asked, slowing down as we neared the road off Crumite. After all, who knew if I'd have to fly into a U-turn and speed off at a whopping 25 miles per hour for the other side of town? (Residential neighborhood you see.)
"Nope, not in the slightest. What say we take off someplace and eat wherever we wind up." She beamed at me, crossing her legs, and making me wonder why she wore a navy blue shirt with white-kahki pants, until I realized how well they went with her shoes-and swerved to avoid hitting a bunny.
"We could do that..." I said warrily, coming to a complete stop. "Where would you like to go?" I turned slightly in my seat, one leg being crossed at a ninety-degree bend below the other, as I was prone to do such as, say when typing at a computer or reading a good book.
"Hmm..." She ran her hand up and down my leg, and then retracted it for a moment and settled directly on my knob, caressing it absentmindedly. (The car's shifter you sick, deranged people!) "I dunno...How about some place romantic and foreign like, oh, a truck stop?"
We both burst out laughing. I don't know why, but whenever I'm with her all seriousness seems to leave my live for the time being. I stop worrying about the case of why strange horrible beasts are invading our forests and parks and neighborhoods, and instead think more about what I can do to make her enjoy being around me instead.
We wandered up to a place called Scotties, a nice returaunt, and not nearly as fancy as yonder Garden de Olives. We had just ordered the food, when in walke (you guessed it) members of the Sasquachian yada yada yada, whatever the hell they chose to call themselves. A pair of them wandered over to our table, and immediately my hand stayed to the hilt of Yon Ill Gun, which was sitting in its holster at my side.
"Well well well, what have we got here. Could it be the Red Fox, out of hiding at long last?"
"Two days, and I just saw you in court yesterday." I corrected them, while Lara gave me a rather quizzical look.
"Whatever. Say, lookie here, he's got a girl with him. Seeming as how we couldn't have you, what say we take your vixen instead?"
"What say you stop referring to us in animalistic terms you celebate fashionless freak before I shave you bald and leave you for the badgers to gnaw? Or would you get to much of a kick out of that?"
He yelled an exclamitory, and grabbed me by the scruff of my shirt, perhaps seeking to darken my eyes a bit, when suddenly I see a blurr out of the corner of my eye and there he is, seizing on the floor with two very painful looking corded spikes sticking out of his front. As it was, Lara carried a taser in her purse. She pushed a button, and the wires sprang lose from her device, and she took a moment to load two fresh ones before returning it to her bag.
"You know these assholes?" She asked me, watching the one guy drag his buddy off and out of the resturaunt.
"Vaguely..." I answered, and proceeded to tell her...well...everything. She didn't say much after that. Not during dinner, not during the ride to one of the Lake George overlooks I knew, not for a time. I told her I'd be right back, mumbled something about bleeding a lizard, and darted around behind the car. When I returned, I was wearing naught but my socks, shoes, and of course my nifty thong. That finally brought her around. She laughed, and mauled me right there. She still knew who I was, more so now than ever, a fact that I was trying to remind her of. My past could hardly get any worse from this point onward, right? If need be, after this case I'd find something else to do, anything, just so it wouldn't upset her so much...
As we lay there, too tired to move, let alone drive, she reassured me of something. "I'm sorry Jason...Don't get me wrong, you're a very interesting guy, but the life you lead scares me."
"Why?" I found myself asking, "This is the only time I've ever come close to being in real danger...Heck, your more of a threat to me with all your snatching at certain parts of me than they were. Mainly because you can get away with it."
"I know...it's just that, I'd hate to invest all these icky, wet, feelings in you to just have you get offed for some stupid reason a few months down the line. It's not like your a policeman or firefighter...Your a- what did you say? Conspiracy hunter? You shouldn't be in that much danger... I don't want you to quit what you do, just pick your battles a bit more carefully from now on."
I opened my mouth to speak, but she silenced me with a finger. "Didn't you hear what I just said about picking your battles more carefully?"
I loved the way she'd caught me in a witty rhetort, and so I memorized it as best I could solely for the retelling. I was content in more ways than one by the end of that night. Mainly because with Lara, I was finally able to tell someone really who I was and what I did. Besides you anyway...and you don't really count because even you don't know everything there is to me yet.