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reddwarfslash2007-01-11 10:47 am
roadstergal.livejournal.com) wrote in reddwarfslash2007-01-11 10:47 am
Entry tags:
Fic: Puzzle, Part 2 (of 2). PG-13.
Linky to the first part (which includes the explanation of what the thing is) here. As always, crit is good. Thanks to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kahvi for some unintentional helpful input on the main conversation.
"It's not exactly homey," Blackwood apologized, waving his arm vaguely around the stark office, "but it's all we have up here."
After a brief, hissed conversation between Blackwood and the man Blackwood had called Paul (who had been properly introduced along the way as "Colonel Ironhorse"), they had led Derek to this safe house on the outskirts of the city. Ironhorse had not been happy about the situation, Derek could tell. The man was too bloody suspicious. As opposed to Blackwood, who had been rather genial. "Yer a trustin' fellow," Derek told him.
Blackwood sat at a small, bare desk and leaned back. "Well, you helped out the Colonel, and that should count for something." He raised his eyebrows and looked Derek directly in the eyes. "You'll forgive me if I'm finding the interdimensional traveling bit a little hard to swallow, however."
Derek could not resist a cheeky grin. "Harder to swallow than radioactive aliens takin' over people's bodies?" The whole radiation thing had been new to him. Never could tell what those nutters would be up to next.
Blackwood chuckled. "Touche. How do you know about them, come to that? Most people are a little, well, startled to find green-blooded aliens taking over human bodies and walking in their midst. You act like you've seen it."
"I've come across 'em before." Derek shrugged easily. "Nasty bunch, them. Just can't live and let live. Always gotta be takin' over people's planets and killing off all of the natives. Permanent case o' PMT, I'm thinkin'."
"Anything you can tell me about them?" Blackwood leaned forward, interested.
"Not much to tell." Derek shrugged helplessly. "You just gotta take care of 'em the long way. If you're enough of a pain in the arse, they'll go look for an easier planet. but that's just foistin' 'em off on someone else, what?" There were many annoying aspects to the Mor-Taxians, but perhaps their most annoying characteristic was their utter unwillingness to share. Not even something as big as a planet.
"True." Blackwood nodded. "I like to think I'm a pacifist, but those things..."
"Make you spit, eh?" Derek fiddled with a cigarette. He was eager for a smoke, but the look Ironhorse had given him when he had taken it out had been as good as a big red No Smoking sign.
"No smoking in here," Blackwood said, eyeing the cigarette. "Can I get you anything to drink, though?"
"Nah, that Colonel fellow gave me a cuppa coffee when I got here." Derek had been surprised by the gesture, accompanied as it had been by the Arctic attitude that the man had been giving him. He could have sworn that a layer of ice formed over the coffee whenever Ironhorse looked at him. Eh, what had Derek done? Other than get kissed by him, which led into that little puzzle Derek was still trying to put together. Led into it in a rather familiar way, come to think, along with those looks Ironhorse gave Blackwood when he thought nobody could see. Maybe the man was a little more Rimmer than he appeared. "Interesting fellow, him."
"He's a bit paranoid," Blackwood agreed, slowly. "But it is his job."
Well, Derek had not done anything cheeky in almost half a day. It was time. He sauntered over to sit on the edge of the bare desk. "He cares about ya. Don't know how to express it, though."
Blackwood slipped his glasses off, absently settling one earpiece on his lip. "Are you Dear Abby as well as Rambo?" he asked.
Derek laughed heartily. "Nah, nah, I've just... seen it before. He won't do nothin' unless you give him some kinda openin', though."
Blackwood sat forward, visibly changing the subject. It was quite a mouthful to digest. "So... what about that bike of yours? I've never seen anything like it."
"Oh, yeah! She's got some tricks up her sleeve. Interdimensional travel's just one of 'em. Wanna see?" Derek did love his bike, and he loved the chance to show it off to someone who cared. And from what he had seen thus far, this astrophysicist would certainly care.
"Oh, yes!" Blackwood leapt to his feet with a sudden burst of energy, walking to the door and flinging it open.
Ironhorse stood on the other side, his hand raised to knock on the door. Derek could swear that a wisp of steam curled from the man's ears as he glared. He turned a much less irate expression on Blackwood. "Blackwood! I need a moment of your time..."
"Certainly, Colonel!" He turned and gave Derek an apologetic glance. "We'll meet you down at your bike, Mister Custer."
"Ach, call me Derek." Derek grinned at both men as he sauntered off. Their voices turned into a dull buzz as Derek walked down the hall. He pushed the door open and stood outside of the house for a moment. His bike stood in front of him. The large iron gates were locked, he was sure, and probably strung with some fairly hefty voltage. Not that any of that would keep him inside if he chose to leave. He could choose stay a little longer, of course. It would be a laugh to speak more with this Blackwood fellow - the man might even have some positive input on his bike. And Ironhorse had a bum Derek wouldn't mind getting his hands on. But Derek only stayed long enough at any site to do what he had to do. And thinking of the calculating, distant expression on Blackwood's face when he had told the man about Ironhorse... and about the kiss that Ironhorse had given him (and the man must have hit his head hard indeed to mistake Derek for Blackwood) - well, he had done as much good as he was likely to in terms of the two of them (including the little detail of having saved Ironhorse's life). Indulging himself would only make things tense for the two of them. All in all, he thought, he had done all that could - and should - be done.
Ironhorse watched Custer's rear as it disappeared down the corridor, then turned back. "Blackwood, I lifted the man's fingerprints off of the cup I gave him. I wanted Norton to run them against the database."
Blackwood crossed his arms, looking at Ironhorse with some amusement. He could not understand why Paul was so worked up. Derek was genial enough, and Ironhorse had not denied that the man had helped him out. "Is there a punch line here, Paul?"
"He has no fingerprints!"
Blackwood chuckled. "Well, your cup or your powder must be off."
Ironhorse shook his head firmly. "Stop joking. This is weird stuff, Harrison!"
"Well, maybe it goes with being an interdimensional traveler." Blackwood suddenly had a greater urge to see that bike. It sounded, looked, and moved like nothing he had seen before. And alternate dimensions were theoretically possible...
Ironhorse barked an unamused laugh. "Hah! Do you actually believe his cockamamie story?"
"A silly story indeed! As silly as, well, aliens taking over human bodies, or men without fingerprints..."
"A little skepticism is a healthy thing, Blackwood!"
"Indeed! Which is why I'm checking out the fellow's bike, once you give me a moment!" Blackwood clapped Ironhorse on the shoulder and strode down the hallway, the shorter man following not a pace behind.
When they stepped out into the bright, chilly winter day, Derek was gone - as was his bike. Blackwood frowned and looked around. The grass surrounding the path leading up to the safe house was undisturbed - as was the sturdy iron gate that was still firmly closed and locked.
"I have the place under lockdown! He can't have just left!" Ironhorse stormed back inside.
Blackwood watched him go. He would wait outside for a while, he decided, while Ironhorse badgered Norton for security camera images and the record of the status of the electric fence during the time Derek had been alone. It was a lovely day, after all, despite the chill, cutting wind. The sky was clear and blue, with only a few wisps of cloud scuttling across it. Along with one very bright star.
Blackwood squinted at it. It was mind-bogglingly bright, or he never would have seen it on such a sunny day. Atmospheric-burn bright. Blackwood felt a pang of regret at not having a chance to get a good look at the fairing on that bike.
He stared as the star slowly faded to a dull point, then to nothing. Well, perhaps two years ago he would have found the idea of an interdimensional traveler with a flying bike ludicrous, but his skepticism had taken a dive since then. He pondered on what the man had said about himself, about the Mor-Taxians, about Ironhorse...
Blackwood abruptly turned and strode back into the safe house, fishing in his pockets for his incense. He needed to make a few decisions - but they were not ones he was going to make without meditating for a bit.
kahvi for some unintentional helpful input on the main conversation."It's not exactly homey," Blackwood apologized, waving his arm vaguely around the stark office, "but it's all we have up here."
After a brief, hissed conversation between Blackwood and the man Blackwood had called Paul (who had been properly introduced along the way as "Colonel Ironhorse"), they had led Derek to this safe house on the outskirts of the city. Ironhorse had not been happy about the situation, Derek could tell. The man was too bloody suspicious. As opposed to Blackwood, who had been rather genial. "Yer a trustin' fellow," Derek told him.
Blackwood sat at a small, bare desk and leaned back. "Well, you helped out the Colonel, and that should count for something." He raised his eyebrows and looked Derek directly in the eyes. "You'll forgive me if I'm finding the interdimensional traveling bit a little hard to swallow, however."
Derek could not resist a cheeky grin. "Harder to swallow than radioactive aliens takin' over people's bodies?" The whole radiation thing had been new to him. Never could tell what those nutters would be up to next.
Blackwood chuckled. "Touche. How do you know about them, come to that? Most people are a little, well, startled to find green-blooded aliens taking over human bodies and walking in their midst. You act like you've seen it."
"I've come across 'em before." Derek shrugged easily. "Nasty bunch, them. Just can't live and let live. Always gotta be takin' over people's planets and killing off all of the natives. Permanent case o' PMT, I'm thinkin'."
"Anything you can tell me about them?" Blackwood leaned forward, interested.
"Not much to tell." Derek shrugged helplessly. "You just gotta take care of 'em the long way. If you're enough of a pain in the arse, they'll go look for an easier planet. but that's just foistin' 'em off on someone else, what?" There were many annoying aspects to the Mor-Taxians, but perhaps their most annoying characteristic was their utter unwillingness to share. Not even something as big as a planet.
"True." Blackwood nodded. "I like to think I'm a pacifist, but those things..."
"Make you spit, eh?" Derek fiddled with a cigarette. He was eager for a smoke, but the look Ironhorse had given him when he had taken it out had been as good as a big red No Smoking sign.
"No smoking in here," Blackwood said, eyeing the cigarette. "Can I get you anything to drink, though?"
"Nah, that Colonel fellow gave me a cuppa coffee when I got here." Derek had been surprised by the gesture, accompanied as it had been by the Arctic attitude that the man had been giving him. He could have sworn that a layer of ice formed over the coffee whenever Ironhorse looked at him. Eh, what had Derek done? Other than get kissed by him, which led into that little puzzle Derek was still trying to put together. Led into it in a rather familiar way, come to think, along with those looks Ironhorse gave Blackwood when he thought nobody could see. Maybe the man was a little more Rimmer than he appeared. "Interesting fellow, him."
"He's a bit paranoid," Blackwood agreed, slowly. "But it is his job."
Well, Derek had not done anything cheeky in almost half a day. It was time. He sauntered over to sit on the edge of the bare desk. "He cares about ya. Don't know how to express it, though."
Blackwood slipped his glasses off, absently settling one earpiece on his lip. "Are you Dear Abby as well as Rambo?" he asked.
Derek laughed heartily. "Nah, nah, I've just... seen it before. He won't do nothin' unless you give him some kinda openin', though."
Blackwood sat forward, visibly changing the subject. It was quite a mouthful to digest. "So... what about that bike of yours? I've never seen anything like it."
"Oh, yeah! She's got some tricks up her sleeve. Interdimensional travel's just one of 'em. Wanna see?" Derek did love his bike, and he loved the chance to show it off to someone who cared. And from what he had seen thus far, this astrophysicist would certainly care.
"Oh, yes!" Blackwood leapt to his feet with a sudden burst of energy, walking to the door and flinging it open.
Ironhorse stood on the other side, his hand raised to knock on the door. Derek could swear that a wisp of steam curled from the man's ears as he glared. He turned a much less irate expression on Blackwood. "Blackwood! I need a moment of your time..."
"Certainly, Colonel!" He turned and gave Derek an apologetic glance. "We'll meet you down at your bike, Mister Custer."
"Ach, call me Derek." Derek grinned at both men as he sauntered off. Their voices turned into a dull buzz as Derek walked down the hall. He pushed the door open and stood outside of the house for a moment. His bike stood in front of him. The large iron gates were locked, he was sure, and probably strung with some fairly hefty voltage. Not that any of that would keep him inside if he chose to leave. He could choose stay a little longer, of course. It would be a laugh to speak more with this Blackwood fellow - the man might even have some positive input on his bike. And Ironhorse had a bum Derek wouldn't mind getting his hands on. But Derek only stayed long enough at any site to do what he had to do. And thinking of the calculating, distant expression on Blackwood's face when he had told the man about Ironhorse... and about the kiss that Ironhorse had given him (and the man must have hit his head hard indeed to mistake Derek for Blackwood) - well, he had done as much good as he was likely to in terms of the two of them (including the little detail of having saved Ironhorse's life). Indulging himself would only make things tense for the two of them. All in all, he thought, he had done all that could - and should - be done.
Ironhorse watched Custer's rear as it disappeared down the corridor, then turned back. "Blackwood, I lifted the man's fingerprints off of the cup I gave him. I wanted Norton to run them against the database."
Blackwood crossed his arms, looking at Ironhorse with some amusement. He could not understand why Paul was so worked up. Derek was genial enough, and Ironhorse had not denied that the man had helped him out. "Is there a punch line here, Paul?"
"He has no fingerprints!"
Blackwood chuckled. "Well, your cup or your powder must be off."
Ironhorse shook his head firmly. "Stop joking. This is weird stuff, Harrison!"
"Well, maybe it goes with being an interdimensional traveler." Blackwood suddenly had a greater urge to see that bike. It sounded, looked, and moved like nothing he had seen before. And alternate dimensions were theoretically possible...
Ironhorse barked an unamused laugh. "Hah! Do you actually believe his cockamamie story?"
"A silly story indeed! As silly as, well, aliens taking over human bodies, or men without fingerprints..."
"A little skepticism is a healthy thing, Blackwood!"
"Indeed! Which is why I'm checking out the fellow's bike, once you give me a moment!" Blackwood clapped Ironhorse on the shoulder and strode down the hallway, the shorter man following not a pace behind.
When they stepped out into the bright, chilly winter day, Derek was gone - as was his bike. Blackwood frowned and looked around. The grass surrounding the path leading up to the safe house was undisturbed - as was the sturdy iron gate that was still firmly closed and locked.
"I have the place under lockdown! He can't have just left!" Ironhorse stormed back inside.
Blackwood watched him go. He would wait outside for a while, he decided, while Ironhorse badgered Norton for security camera images and the record of the status of the electric fence during the time Derek had been alone. It was a lovely day, after all, despite the chill, cutting wind. The sky was clear and blue, with only a few wisps of cloud scuttling across it. Along with one very bright star.
Blackwood squinted at it. It was mind-bogglingly bright, or he never would have seen it on such a sunny day. Atmospheric-burn bright. Blackwood felt a pang of regret at not having a chance to get a good look at the fairing on that bike.
He stared as the star slowly faded to a dull point, then to nothing. Well, perhaps two years ago he would have found the idea of an interdimensional traveler with a flying bike ludicrous, but his skepticism had taken a dive since then. He pondered on what the man had said about himself, about the Mor-Taxians, about Ironhorse...
Blackwood abruptly turned and strode back into the safe house, fishing in his pockets for his incense. He needed to make a few decisions - but they were not ones he was going to make without meditating for a bit.
no subject
Aaah, there's Derek for you.
I like the whole feel and resolvement of this thing; how Derek isn't sure why he's there, how it's all a series of small nudges. That's nice. Mellow. Kinda Derek, in a way, as I see him. :)
And I also think you're really getting the hang of the WotW characters, Blackwood in particular.
(no subject)
no subject
"Oh, yes!" Blackwood leapt to his feet with a sudden burst of energy, walking to the door and flinging it open.
I can, um, picture that. *boing* Don't bang your head on the ceiling, Woody!
Blackwood abruptly turned and strode back into the safe house, fishing in his pockets for his incense. He needed to make a few decisions - but they were not ones he was going to make without meditating for a bit.
What is wrong with this man? He just continues to do things that make me laugh. *giggles*
Pretty story *nods*. Next time, chuck in some sexeh!!!111! ;) Hehehe.
(no subject)