Well, I hope the relatively dull thud 06 made when it dropped was because most of the gang is too busy having a great holiday season to process it just now, but it isn't stopping me from working on the next one while I have the momentum (and the time off from classes), anyways. Here's a little taste - think of it as a Christmas present:
Sakura arrived home from school as M. was getting into her car;
she pulled up on her bicycle and watched, curious, as the four agents
climbed in after her and the Rolls pulled away.
"Who was that?" she asked, leaning her bike against the garage.
"She looked important."
"Government," I said. "British."
"Jeez, they just don't give up," Sakura said as she followed me
through the gate and back out to the playhouse.
"I think they will now. That lady was Cammy's old boss. I
think we just came to an understanding." I stuck my head into the
playhouse. "Hey. You all right? She's gone."
"If that woman ever shows her face around here again," Cammy
said hotly, "I'll show her my license to kill."
"Well, for God's sake don't do it in the living room," I told
her. "You -know- how hard that carpet is to clean."
Cammy couldn't help but laugh at that; the living room carpet,
which Zoner had selected in a fit of... something, was white shag about
four inches deep, and would have required an act of Congress to get
blood out of. The carpet was one of the reasons we rarely used the
living room proper, instead tending to congregate in the front room.
Regaining her good humor, she hugged me and said, "Thank you for
backing me up. I liked your 'more guys' line."
"I've always got your back," I told her, adding a kiss on the
cheek for punctuation.
"Hey, here comes trouble," she said brightly, turning me loose
as she spotted Sakura lingering in the doorway behind me. "How was your
day? Better than mine just was, I hope."
"Well, nobody from the Japanese consulate came by," Sakura said.
"I'm pretty sure I'm going to end up in a fight with that guy from the
Burncoat cross-country team sometime soon, though. What an idiot."
"Aye, well, go Highlanders," said Cammy, grinning. As a proud
Scotswoman, she'd been tickled to learn of the mascot at Sakura's
school, Doherty Memorial High.
"We've talked about fighting at school," I reminded my student.
"I'm not going to fight him at school," she replied. "We'll
probably end up on the bridge in Elm Park, like usual."
I shook my head, pinching the bridge of my nose theatrically.
"You're going to take the whole foster-child thing out of everybody's
hands by going to -prison,-" I told her.
"If you're under 18, you won't be doing any time," she replied
cheerfully.
"Don't look at me, love," Cammy said when I glanced to her for
support. "You're the one with the thing about punk music." She clouted
Sakura on the shoulder. "C'mon, kiddo, show me what you've got."
So I sat in the mission chair in the corner of the playhouse and
watched my two best girls fight, one in woodland camo battle-dress
pants, jungle boots and commando sweater, the other in civvies that
looked as much like a Japanese school uniform as they could without
being straight-up costume gear - warrior girls in their natural colors.
And I thought: Life is so damn good.
--G.
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Benjamin D. Hutchins, Co-Founder, Editor-in-Chief, & Forum Admin
Eyrie Productions, Unlimited http://www.eyrie-productions.com/
Ceterum censeo Carthaginem esse delendam.