"Lucy, I'm home," Alec announced, as he came through the door. Even as he said it, he knew the effect was somewhat ruined by the fact he had absolutely no ability to mimic a Latin accent. Between that and the fact he was so tired, he didn't have high hopes for the joke.
"Who's Lucy? Are you calling me Lucy now?"
And, Alec reflected, the fun was even more ruined when the intended audience clearly had no familiarity with the source material he was referencing.
"It's what this guy in an old sitcom says to his wife when he gets home," Alec explained half-heartedly, as he closed and locked the front door behind him. "Because she's Lucy. It's one of those things."
Alec didn't bother with the light switch, as he started to remove the outer layers of his costume. The floating ball of energy in the hallway gave him enough illumination to see by.
"Waitaminute...I don't remember a proposal. You didn't even get me a ring. I feel cheated here!"
Alec stopped midway through hanging up his cloak in the hall closet. He turned round, arching an eyebrow. "I'm not even sure you're female."
The sphere of light bobbed up and down in feigned indignation. "Come on, do I look male to you?"
"You look like a ball of incorporeal spiritual stuff," Alec said, didactically, "besides, why would you need a ring? You don't even have hands."
"Principle of the thing? Besides," the presumably-female wisp added, "I could always sell it for money!"
"You know my card numbers," Alec said. "Hell, you probably know more of the bank passwords than I do. Lord knows I can never remember that Internet one. I'm not keeping you in poverty here."
"It's not the same," she complained, with the air of someone making the same case for the umpthteenth time, "that's still your money, not mine."
"Bell...we've gone over this. You could always get a job," Alec offered. With the cloak off, the mage then proceeded to unbutton and remove his tuxedo jacket, working the waiting coathanger's frame into the jacket's shoulders. As he hung the jacket up, he also pulled off his mask and slipped it into one of the coat’s outside pockets.
"I have a job, it's called being your evil minion," Bell the wisp retorted, "you just don't pay me anything because you're cheap!"
"Oh come on," Alec defended himself,"I let you buy anything you want. Even all those Japanese DVDs. I swear, whoever processes our Amazon orders probably has a very strange idea of what goes on in this house. If I get arrested someday, I hope you realise it's because you just had to..."
"I just like to see stories where a strong non-humanoid lead character has meaningful relationships," Bell sniffed, “a young and impressionable wisp like me needs role models.”
"Meaningful relationships don't end in tentacle...oh forget it. Look," Alec said, trying to change the subject, "sorry I'm late. Had to finish gathering samples from the scene before letting the regular lab guys at it."
"You could at least have called ahead," Bell complained.
"I did, your mobile must be off or something," Alec parried, while struggling with his bow-tie, "and you know the landline doesn't work ever since I used the wires to ward the house against...well, doesn't work right, anyway. I guess being able to dial 1880 kind of counts."
"Sorry," Bell said, the wisp's inner light pulsing in mild embarrassment, "I probably left it silent after updating the OS this morning. Um. I thought the house phone wasn't working at all, though? What's an 1880 number?"
"No, 1880," Alec corrected, "like, three years after Alexander Graham Bell started his phone company?"
"Oh, I thought you promised Mender Silos not to do stuff like that anymore."
"It was an accident," Alec grumbled, "and you don't have to tell him. The scary time cop doesn’t need to know, okay? I'll get it fixed, alright? I'm just kinda busy right now."
"You're always busy," Bell noted, bobbing and weaving beside Alec as he made his way down the corridor, "I think after you use that excuse fifty-six times a month it sort of quits being effective."
"It just means I'm still busy," Alec said, "like this stage magician killer thing. Which is time sensitive, Bell. Do you know what time sensitive means?"
“It means something you’re not capable of doing,” Bell quipped, as she followed Alec up the stairs, staying roughly at shoulder height, “if you’re using our phone line to call people in the 19th century.”
“That’s,” Alec said, raising a finger, “not what I meant and you knew it. You have learned well, my disciple. You have taken your teachings and turned them against your master. But you are not a Jedi yet.”
“Shouldn’t that be Sith?”
“Well, yeah, I guess,” Alec said, as he reached the bathroom, finally flipping on a light switch, followed by the one for the heater. “But I prefer exact quotes where possible, even when taking them completely out of context. It’s good practice, you know.”
“Practice for what?” Bell asked, as the magician began undoing his shirt.
“I’m a costumed hero type,” Alec answered, smoothly, “witty quips and comebacks are part of the job. Come on, you know this. If I could figure out some way to stick a tiny little cape on you, you’d totally be my sidekick. You could be Wisp Girl. Or maybe Idiot Ball.”
“Pass, thanks,” Bell said, dryly, “strictly support staff here! You don’t pay me enough to put my insubstantial spherical non-body in danger.”
“Yeah, on that note,” Alec said, as he turned the tap on and began to wash his hands and face, “did you look through the files Leon sent over? Tonight’s victim was the third dead stage magician in a week. Unless we have some kind of really aggressive theatre critic on our hands, that kind of thing seems mildly worrying. At least to me.”
If Bell had a face, or indeed any distinguishable features, she would have grimaced. “Uh, yeah.”
“One time could have been, you know, just one of those things. But three dead guys who wore cheap tuxedos and cut ladies in half for a living? That’s pretty freaky. Besides, Halloween’s coming up, and Leon’s worried this has something to do with that,” Alec elaborated. “Maybe he’s right. I don’t know. Not enough data. We’ll have to do some scrying prep tonight, need to have some show and tell for our friends in law enforcement tomorrow.”
“I’ve already set it the table downstairs,” Bell reassured him, weaving up and down in a way that approximated a nod. “Oh, and there’s some casserole in the fridge if you’re hungry. I wasn’t sure if you were getting dinner, so I kinda nuked something.”
“Thanks, I haven’t eaten since breakfast, actually,” Alec said, sounding grateful. Until he stopped, his smile fading. “Wait, casserole? Chicken and mushroom casserole?”
“Yes,” Bell confirmed, a dangerous edge creeping into her tone, “and what’s wrong with my casserole?”
“You used the dried shitake from the kitchen cabinet,” Alec questioned, sounding suspicious, “right? Definitely the shitake, right? From the regular old mundane Chinese grocery? Not the other stuff that you’re not supposed to get into?”
“Come on, gimme some credit here,” Bell said, patiently, “I don’t get some kinda perverse enjoyment from seeing you under the influence of mind-altering substances. Especially since I’m the one who has to clean up after!”
“You did it once,” Alec pointed out.
“Just the one time! And it’s not my fault you totally suck at labeling your psychoactive stuff,” Bell grumbled, “I mean, I didn’t even know you could do that vision trance thing where your brain visits Atlantis or whatever. It’s not like you briefed me that well when you hired me.”
“Well, you can compile a standard operating procedures manual for the next time I get a minion,” Alec suggested, drying his hands on a towel.
“You plan on doing that sometime soon? You’re not replacing me, are you? Because we totally agreed on three to four weeks notice, and...”
“Hey, chill. I was thinking about an intern or something. Someone for you to boss around, you know? Relax,” Alec said.
“Oh, right. Okay then,” Bell gave a small muffled sound as she flickered, the light emanating from her spherical form rising in intensity, “gotcha. I knew that.”
“Good,” Alec said, staring at the wisp.
“I totally knew that,” Bell insisted.
“I’m not questioning you,” Alec said, “I’m just trying to subtly hint you should get out of the bathroom so I can take a shower.”
“I could just turn around,” Bell suggested.
Alec covered his face with a hand as he tried to figure out how to respond to that.
Bell looked innocent, or at least as innocent as an expressionless sphere could be. “What?”
“You’re a floating ball of energy stuff,” Alec said, slowly, “so you don’t have eyes. I’m pretty sure you perceive the world omni-directionally or whatever it is you’re doing. That’s...not the point. And...you know that, don’t you. That was a good one. That was a very good one.”
“Thanks,” Bell laughed, “I’ve been saving it for a while.”
“Applause,” Alec said, dryly, “now get out, before I figure out a way to raise a localised barrier against annoying wisps using toilet paper and toothpaste.”
* * *
A/N: Yes, I named and characterised my Blue Wisp Pet. Don't look at me like that. This is perfectly normal.
-- Acyl
"Who's Lucy? Are you calling me Lucy now?"
And, Alec reflected, the fun was even more ruined when the intended audience clearly had no familiarity with the source material he was referencing.
"It's what this guy in an old sitcom says to his wife when he gets home," Alec explained half-heartedly, as he closed and locked the front door behind him. "Because she's Lucy. It's one of those things."
Alec didn't bother with the light switch, as he started to remove the outer layers of his costume. The floating ball of energy in the hallway gave him enough illumination to see by.
"Waitaminute...I don't remember a proposal. You didn't even get me a ring. I feel cheated here!"
Alec stopped midway through hanging up his cloak in the hall closet. He turned round, arching an eyebrow. "I'm not even sure you're female."
The sphere of light bobbed up and down in feigned indignation. "Come on, do I look male to you?"
"You look like a ball of incorporeal spiritual stuff," Alec said, didactically, "besides, why would you need a ring? You don't even have hands."
"Principle of the thing? Besides," the presumably-female wisp added, "I could always sell it for money!"
"You know my card numbers," Alec said. "Hell, you probably know more of the bank passwords than I do. Lord knows I can never remember that Internet one. I'm not keeping you in poverty here."
"It's not the same," she complained, with the air of someone making the same case for the umpthteenth time, "that's still your money, not mine."
"Bell...we've gone over this. You could always get a job," Alec offered. With the cloak off, the mage then proceeded to unbutton and remove his tuxedo jacket, working the waiting coathanger's frame into the jacket's shoulders. As he hung the jacket up, he also pulled off his mask and slipped it into one of the coat’s outside pockets.
"I have a job, it's called being your evil minion," Bell the wisp retorted, "you just don't pay me anything because you're cheap!"
"Oh come on," Alec defended himself,"I let you buy anything you want. Even all those Japanese DVDs. I swear, whoever processes our Amazon orders probably has a very strange idea of what goes on in this house. If I get arrested someday, I hope you realise it's because you just had to..."
"I just like to see stories where a strong non-humanoid lead character has meaningful relationships," Bell sniffed, “a young and impressionable wisp like me needs role models.”
"Meaningful relationships don't end in tentacle...oh forget it. Look," Alec said, trying to change the subject, "sorry I'm late. Had to finish gathering samples from the scene before letting the regular lab guys at it."
"You could at least have called ahead," Bell complained.
"I did, your mobile must be off or something," Alec parried, while struggling with his bow-tie, "and you know the landline doesn't work ever since I used the wires to ward the house against...well, doesn't work right, anyway. I guess being able to dial 1880 kind of counts."
"Sorry," Bell said, the wisp's inner light pulsing in mild embarrassment, "I probably left it silent after updating the OS this morning. Um. I thought the house phone wasn't working at all, though? What's an 1880 number?"
"No, 1880," Alec corrected, "like, three years after Alexander Graham Bell started his phone company?"
"Oh, I thought you promised Mender Silos not to do stuff like that anymore."
"It was an accident," Alec grumbled, "and you don't have to tell him. The scary time cop doesn’t need to know, okay? I'll get it fixed, alright? I'm just kinda busy right now."
"You're always busy," Bell noted, bobbing and weaving beside Alec as he made his way down the corridor, "I think after you use that excuse fifty-six times a month it sort of quits being effective."
"It just means I'm still busy," Alec said, "like this stage magician killer thing. Which is time sensitive, Bell. Do you know what time sensitive means?"
“It means something you’re not capable of doing,” Bell quipped, as she followed Alec up the stairs, staying roughly at shoulder height, “if you’re using our phone line to call people in the 19th century.”
“That’s,” Alec said, raising a finger, “not what I meant and you knew it. You have learned well, my disciple. You have taken your teachings and turned them against your master. But you are not a Jedi yet.”
“Shouldn’t that be Sith?”
“Well, yeah, I guess,” Alec said, as he reached the bathroom, finally flipping on a light switch, followed by the one for the heater. “But I prefer exact quotes where possible, even when taking them completely out of context. It’s good practice, you know.”
“Practice for what?” Bell asked, as the magician began undoing his shirt.
“I’m a costumed hero type,” Alec answered, smoothly, “witty quips and comebacks are part of the job. Come on, you know this. If I could figure out some way to stick a tiny little cape on you, you’d totally be my sidekick. You could be Wisp Girl. Or maybe Idiot Ball.”
“Pass, thanks,” Bell said, dryly, “strictly support staff here! You don’t pay me enough to put my insubstantial spherical non-body in danger.”
“Yeah, on that note,” Alec said, as he turned the tap on and began to wash his hands and face, “did you look through the files Leon sent over? Tonight’s victim was the third dead stage magician in a week. Unless we have some kind of really aggressive theatre critic on our hands, that kind of thing seems mildly worrying. At least to me.”
If Bell had a face, or indeed any distinguishable features, she would have grimaced. “Uh, yeah.”
“One time could have been, you know, just one of those things. But three dead guys who wore cheap tuxedos and cut ladies in half for a living? That’s pretty freaky. Besides, Halloween’s coming up, and Leon’s worried this has something to do with that,” Alec elaborated. “Maybe he’s right. I don’t know. Not enough data. We’ll have to do some scrying prep tonight, need to have some show and tell for our friends in law enforcement tomorrow.”
“I’ve already set it the table downstairs,” Bell reassured him, weaving up and down in a way that approximated a nod. “Oh, and there’s some casserole in the fridge if you’re hungry. I wasn’t sure if you were getting dinner, so I kinda nuked something.”
“Thanks, I haven’t eaten since breakfast, actually,” Alec said, sounding grateful. Until he stopped, his smile fading. “Wait, casserole? Chicken and mushroom casserole?”
“Yes,” Bell confirmed, a dangerous edge creeping into her tone, “and what’s wrong with my casserole?”
“You used the dried shitake from the kitchen cabinet,” Alec questioned, sounding suspicious, “right? Definitely the shitake, right? From the regular old mundane Chinese grocery? Not the other stuff that you’re not supposed to get into?”
“Come on, gimme some credit here,” Bell said, patiently, “I don’t get some kinda perverse enjoyment from seeing you under the influence of mind-altering substances. Especially since I’m the one who has to clean up after!”
“You did it once,” Alec pointed out.
“Just the one time! And it’s not my fault you totally suck at labeling your psychoactive stuff,” Bell grumbled, “I mean, I didn’t even know you could do that vision trance thing where your brain visits Atlantis or whatever. It’s not like you briefed me that well when you hired me.”
“Well, you can compile a standard operating procedures manual for the next time I get a minion,” Alec suggested, drying his hands on a towel.
“You plan on doing that sometime soon? You’re not replacing me, are you? Because we totally agreed on three to four weeks notice, and...”
“Hey, chill. I was thinking about an intern or something. Someone for you to boss around, you know? Relax,” Alec said.
“Oh, right. Okay then,” Bell gave a small muffled sound as she flickered, the light emanating from her spherical form rising in intensity, “gotcha. I knew that.”
“Good,” Alec said, staring at the wisp.
“I totally knew that,” Bell insisted.
“I’m not questioning you,” Alec said, “I’m just trying to subtly hint you should get out of the bathroom so I can take a shower.”
“I could just turn around,” Bell suggested.
Alec covered his face with a hand as he tried to figure out how to respond to that.
Bell looked innocent, or at least as innocent as an expressionless sphere could be. “What?”
“You’re a floating ball of energy stuff,” Alec said, slowly, “so you don’t have eyes. I’m pretty sure you perceive the world omni-directionally or whatever it is you’re doing. That’s...not the point. And...you know that, don’t you. That was a good one. That was a very good one.”
“Thanks,” Bell laughed, “I’ve been saving it for a while.”
“Applause,” Alec said, dryly, “now get out, before I figure out a way to raise a localised barrier against annoying wisps using toilet paper and toothpaste.”
* * *
A/N: Yes, I named and characterised my Blue Wisp Pet. Don't look at me like that. This is perfectly normal.
-- Acyl