vanilla
Story: Timeless { backstory | index }
Title: Surprises
Rating: PG (language)
Challenge: Vanilla #12: a storm
Toppings/Extras: none
Wordcount: 723
Summary: Time-travel is used against Newson. Utter ludicrousness ensues.
Notes: This is ridiculous, and the sad thing is it’s not even AU. It is a storm of the metaphorical poo variety. Very close to the end of the novel.
It was a motley crew that ended up standing in Newson’s office, after days of travelling and sea battles and various obstacles in the shape of a developing helicopter phobia and several trips down to Kirby’s labs. Newson stood behind his gleaming desk looking utterly bemused as Ashdown, his right-hand man Prowse, his wife Verity, Newson’s own PA Adele Merritt and the meddling lower-leveller Pia Rees stood in the glass wonderland of his immense office.
“What the fuck?” Newson demanded warily. Hamlet Tower had been attacked by pirates earlier that day, and Ashdown with a gun was not what he needed to finish it off. “I thought you lot died at sea.”
“Yes, well,” Ashdown shrugged and thumbed the catch of his ivory-handled pistol. “Surprise.”
Newson looked around at them all. They all looked fairly bedraggled. Adele Merritt had no shoes on and appeared to have seaweed in her hair. Prowse’s hair was salt-slicked with seawater. Ashdown looked as though he had just been catapulted across half the country. Pia’s hair was so wild with wind that it looked as though a wild animal were clinging to her scalp. The only person who appeared only mildly rumpled-and all the better for it-was Verity Ashdown, typically. She blew curling blonde strands from her eyes and batted her lashes at him demurely.
“We’ll keep this short and sweet,” Ashdown said. He nudged Adele in the shoulder with the barrel of his pistol. “Give us the key for our timeframe or I shoot Miss Merritt. Does that seem fair?”
“Not really,” Adele muttered.
Next to her, Isaac Prowse was biting his lip. His hands nervously twitched.
Newson looked at them all for a moment before laughing quite heartily.
“You think I give a shit about Merritt?” he asked after a minute, seeming to find the concept almost too hilarious for words. “Fucking hell, you must be mental. Is this the best you’ve got?”
“I told you,” Adele sniped in irritation at Ashdown.
“You really don’t care?” Ashdown asked, eyeing Newson closely for a reaction.
“No! Jesus fuck. Shoot her now. Not that I believe you would. You don’t have the balls.”
Ashdown’s finger wavered over the pistol’s trigger. He glanced at Prowse, who was already looking at him. For goodness’ sake, he thought. Why does everything have to be so bloody complicated? Thanks a lot, Prowse, for fraternising with the enemy and making everything into even more of a mess than it was before...
Slowly, Ashdown lowered the pistol. Adele could not disguise her astonishment.
“This isn’t the best we’ve got, actually,” Ashdown said, not showing a single atom of his thoughts in his expression. With a slim finger, he played with the barrel of the pistol. “You see, I had Mr Prowse go down and scare your pet scientist Adam Kirby a little bit. Just enough to allow us a small trip to a timeframe you didn’t protect.”
“Oh?” Newson asked, not seeming impressed.
Prowse cleared his throat.
“Yes. We took a little trip forwards and brought back your future wife.” His tone was sombre and his expression fixed to some space on the glass panelling behind Newson’s head. Newson looked around at them all.
“Well, so what? Do I marry the fucking invisible woman or something? I don’t see her.”
“Quite,” Ashdown said. “Where is she, Mr Prowse?”
“Well, sir, she... um.” Prowse looked uncomfortable as every eye in the room focused on him. “It’s Verity.”
Newson’s eyes widened, but not before Ashdown had exclaimed: “What?”
“I’m sorry, darling,” Verity said, looking up from inspecting her immaculate nails with a small smirk. “Ain’t love grand?”
“That is cold,” Pia remarked, sounding impressed.
“If this is Verity from the future, where’s my Verity?” Ashdown demanded.
“I’m not yours and I never was,” retorted Verity.
“Um, well,” Prowse said in answer to Ashdown’s question. “She might be dead.”
“She might be?”
“What does it matter?” Adele asked, wrinkling her nose as she turned to face Ashdown. “I thought you were gay?”
Ashdown looked as though quite an important blood vessel was about to burst.
“Miss Merritt, will you kindly shut up?”
“I was just saying...”
Verity blew a kiss to Newson through her painted, heart-shaped lips.
“Jesus Christ,” Newson said, putting his elbows on his desk and his head in his hands. “I fucking hate time travel.”