M Sellars - Miranda

Eventually, we reached the lobby, and the crush of suits in front of us began to filter outward. By the time they’d cleared and we were able to exit, the doors were already sliding shut. Felicity made it through unscathed, but since it was an older model elevator, I ended up purposely shouldering the mechanical safety edge and sent the sliding panels into a hasty retreat so that I could follow.

“He’s over there,” my wife announced, pointing across the expanse of marble tile and expensive looking area rugs.

Ben was lounged in one of the sitting area chairs near the center of the lobby, his attention focused on a folded newspaper in his hands. We walked toward him then skirted around the sofa just opposite where he was seated.

As we drew closer I announced, “I’d say good morning, but it hasn’t really started out that way.”

Our friend looked up from the newsprint then tossed it on the large coffee table and stood. “What the hell kept ya’? I’ve been waitin’ down here for fifteen minutes, and some jackass took the comic section, so I got stuck readin’ about how bad my 401k is tankin’.”

I glanced at my watch and shook my head. “You said an hour, Ben. It’s only been about forty-five minutes. Maybe fifty. Besides, you’re not one to talk. I tried calling you back four times after you hung up on me, and you didn’t even bother to answer.”

“Yeah, well I was kinda busy,” he snorted, repeating back to me the excuse I’d given him earlier. He then addressed himself to Felicity with one of his typical baiting remarks. “So what’s the deal, Firehair? You runnin’ a bit long with all the girly stuff this mornin’?”

Not being any more in the mood for his joviality than me, she muttered, “ Pog mo thoin, Ben.”

“Okay,” he shot back with a nod and a grin. “Bare it an’ share it, Irish.”

My wife instantly raised an eyebrow and regarded him with a quiet stare, a slightly surprised mask plastered across her delicate ivory features.

“Yeah,” he said, a self-assured cockiness in his voice. “Didn’t think I knew what that meant, did’ja? See there? I’m catchin’ on.”

“Aye, are you really then?” she puffed, annoyance clearly evident in her voice. “ Go bpleasca scata Fomhorach olta do bhall fearga. ”

She cocked her head and smirked as she stared at him. The grin faded from Ben’s face while he stared back at her silently for a few seconds, apparently waiting for her to clarify. When she remained mute he finally turned his questioning gaze in my direction.

“Don’t look at me,” I replied while giving my head a shake. “I’ve never heard that one, so I couldn’t begin to translate. Besides, you started it.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he grunted, shaking his head. “Just tryin’ ta’ lighten the mood a bit, ya’know.”

“Sorry, but it’s not working,” I told him. “Not today, anyway.”

“Yeah, no shit, I kinda noticed. So, anyway, you two ready ta’ roll?”

“Hold on just a second; ready for what?” I said, gesturing for him to wait. “I already explained that I’m no good to you on this one. The visions are gone.” I pointed my index finger and double-tapped myself in the middle of my forehead with it for effect. “There’s nothing but dead air, Ben. Nada.”

“So’s that make ya’ an airhead?”

“Dammit, I’m serious,” I growled.

“Jeezus, lighten up, Row. I know ya’ get kinda hard ta’ deal with whenever you’re workin’ a case, but damn…”

“I’m sorry, Ben, but I’m just not in the mood to joke around. And, I’m not working this case.”

“Yeah…okay, whatever.”

“I’m serious.”

“Then why didn’t ya’ just stay in your room?” he asked.

“Because you wouldn’t answer your goddamned phone. Otherwise I would have told you exactly what I’m telling you now.”

He shrugged. “Okay, well since you’re already here, might as well give it a go anyway…”

“What? Are you not listening? Exactly what is it you want from me?” I asked.

“The usual. Your help on the case.”

“Okay, I’m asking you again… Did you not hear what I just said? The visions disappeared last night, and that hasn’t miraculously changed in the past eight hours.” I raised my volume a notch and stressed the enunciation of the last four words, “ I… Can’t… Help… You.”

He nodded. “I ain’t deaf, Row. I ain’t a moron either. I just talk like one to throw people off. Listen, I get what you’re sayin’. But you want this bitch stopped, right?”

“Of course,” I returned, a fresh wisp of incredulity woven through my voice. “What the hell kind of question is that?”

“It’s the kinda question I ask ta’ get your attention whenever you’re rampin’ up ta’ be an asshole,” he replied with a slightly harsher edge. “Zactly like you’re doin’ right now for instance. Now, if you wanna play Mister Serious, okay, I can do that, so listen up. Whether the Twilight Zone thing is workin’ for ya’ right now or not doesn’t matter. I don’t give a shit about that.” He wagged his finger back and forth between Felicity and me. “Simple fact is the two of ya’ know more about Miranda and how she does whatever the hell it is she does than anyone else around. Plain and simple. And, right now, the MCS needs that input from you. End of story. Got me?”

“Okay, fine. But I’m telling you up front, I really don’t think I’m up to this, Ben.”

He huffed out an annoyed sigh then shook his head and stared at me for a moment. Finally, he splayed out his hands in mock surrender and asked, “What the hell’s goin’ on with you, Row?”

“Do you really have to ask?” I snapped.

“Yeah,” he replied. “‘Cause I just don’t get it. You sure as hell ain’t actin’ like the Rowan Gant I used ta’ know.”

“Well, think about what I’ve been through, then ask yourself what’s wrong with me.”

“Yeah, look, you think I don’t know what you’ve had ta’ deal with? I realize you’re a victim here, trust me, nobody’s disputin’ that fact. But I also know that ain’t somethin’ new where you’re concerned. And I gotta be honest, I’ve never seen ya’ play the ‘pity me’ part. Up till now, that is.”

“Maybe I’ve just finally had enough.”

He nodded. “Okay, I’ll buy that. I’ve heard ya’ say it before, but fine, maybe you’re for real this time, so I’ll go along with ya’. We all get burned out, and I’m not surprised if you really are. Hell, I’ve been worried about ya’ more’n once. You know that.

“But, guess what? This ain’t over, and you ain’t off the clock yet. At least not until this one’s done. You can’t walk away from it, and you know that as well as I do.”

“Dammit, Ben.”

“Go ahead and damn me all ya’ want if it makes ya’ happy. But we need ya’ on this. Felicity needs ya’ on this. Hell, you need you on this.”

“Okay, fine,” I conceded. “But I’m still not sure how much good I can do.”

“Like I said, you know how Miranda works. Besides, you’re the only one who’s broken, ain’t ya?” He turned his gaze toward Felicity and said, “I mean, I know you ain’t quite as tuned in as Row, you still got the whole woo-woo thing happenin’, right Firehair?”

“No way!” I spat before she could answer him. I hadn’t exactly been keeping my voice down during this conversation, but now it rose in volume by several notches. “Dammit, Ben, no friggin’ way. I said I’d help you, but you aren’t dragging Felicity into this, do you understand me?! I won’t allow it!”

“I beg your pardon?” my wife interjected. Her comment was clearly aimed at me, but I was focused on Ben and all but ignored it.