Chapter Two: A Short,Wet, Interlude
by Alicia (aisumitsukai at home.com)
This really does have something to do with the plot, I promise!
Anyway, Maureen, thanks for your nitpicks, and please keep on with them;
I'm going to overhaul the whole shebang once it's done and they come in very useful
If this were France, she would be sunbathing right now....
Deidre peered out the classroom window into grey sheets of rain,
with a sour look. If this didn’t let up she’d get soaked just on the way
to the hoverbus stop. Stellar. Blatantly ignoring the professor, she
glanced across the room at the clock: half an hour left. She almost
groaned aloud. It was time to take action. As inconspicuously as
possible, she opened Graphicshop v15.6 on her screen, quickly
rummaging through her bag for the stylus to her data pad, and settled
down to doodle the class away.
Not like she was missing much: the professor was talking about
the legal system of the early 20th century. She could just ask Mr.
Holmes when he got back.
Now that she was properly occupied, the class passed quickly
enough. The rain, however, did not. True to form, she spent the bus
trip home wringing water out of her clothes and trying not to get it on
any of the other passengers. Not an easy feat on the crowded New
London transit system.
After fighting her way through the crowds to get off at the
right stop, Deidre was pleasantly surprised to find the rain gone.
Mind you, it didn’t make her feel any less saturated. Busy bemoaning
her sponge-like state, Deidre found herself unceremoniously upended
onto her backside by a surprised-looking woman, who hadn’t been
looking where she was going either.
"Oof! Watch it, eh?" Her temper not improved by her damp
clothes, Deidre glared up at the woman, picking herself up off the
sidewalk, ignoring the proffered hand.
The woman’s expression quickly turned from apologetic to angry.
"Watch it yourself, kid."
"Oi! First off, I’ve got a name. And second, I ain’t the mature
adult ‘ere. It’s your fault for not being responsible!"
"No, you’re the misbehaving rebellious teenager, so it’s
obviously your fault, because as a mature adult I wouldn’t play pranks
like that." The woman was tall, she had almost thirty cm on Deidre,
with straight dark brown hair and almond-shaped eyes to match. Hands
on hips, she gave the impression of being very much in charge.
Disliking her on the spot, Deidre ungraciously thought that
she’d get along well with the Inspector. The both of them were
absolute witches. She took this back, however, when she remembered the
Inspector’s promise of French underwear.
"Prank?" Deidre responded, hand pressed over her heart, every
inch the abused victim. "I’m an innocent school girl on ‘er way home
after a long, arduous day of putting ‘er ‘eart and soul into learning
the ‘istory of this wonderful country we call ‘ome. An’ now, I’m being
accused of playing pranks simply because a clumsy adult decided to
take advantage of my mental fatigue!"
"Mental fatigue is right. What are you? A con artist?"
Deidre decided to change gears. "'Oo are you to be asking? I
don’t even know yer name."
"Special Constable Akiko Morrison." SC Morrison pulled out a
"Ah." Deidre grimaced mentally. "One of those volunteer people.
Well, thanks very much fer being ever so helpful around the
neighbourhood. I’m sure we all appreciate being knocked on our arses
by Yardie wannabes -- much more prestigious then being knocked over by
just any old bugger. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must go tend to my
failing aunt." Deidre brushed her self off and stuck her chin in the
As she sidestepped the unimpressed officer she heard her
mutter. "If she’s had to deal with you on a regular basis, I’m
surprised she’s still alive at all."
Bloody police, Deidre thought, all the bleeding same.
On to Chapter 3!
Back to Chapter 1
Back to the Fanfic index