Coming Together

“Wait.” House says. “What are you doing?”

Damon continues erasing. “No change House. Change house. Move door.”

“So.”

“No move door. Moving door closes bridge. Moving door is bad.” Damon says as he finishes cleaning off the white board.

“This is eloquent?” House asks looking at Mural Man. “No one can stop me from changing my appearance when I want to.”

“Duuude...what Damon is trying to say is that if you change yourself, you'll have to close the bridge during construction. We don't know when anyone is coming back. We need to wait and keep things open man.” Ray says.

“First of all.” House says. “I'm not a man. I'm me. I'm the house. If I don't do this now I'll never get a makeover. Do you have any idea how full this place is getting? I feel bloated. All the time. I need to update my looks regularly. I'm independent. When you're independent and a big deal you have to keep upgrading. I need this makeover. Little Miss Priss is too inflexible to agree to my changes. I'll never get anything if I have to wait for her.” A high pitched cry resonates through the bonus room.

The room grows silent.

“Was that a whine?” Mural Man asks.

“No...” House says. “...maybe.”

Mural Man says, “I love you. I see how important this is to you so how about no makeover for now? You can plan all that you want," Mural Man says, looking at Damon then returning his gaze to House, "but don't do anything. I think that Ray, TP, and Damon will agree with me when I say that we will do everything that we can to help you get an expansion after everyone returns from Faerie safely.”

House looks around the room. Everyone nods their agreement. 

 House nods.  

“We need to find out who is hunting me.” Monitor Man says.

The bubbles gain altitude, turning and speeding back the way that they came. They circle around a bubble just as it is lifting off of the ground. It continues rising then stops. All three bubbles hover together. Monitor Man looks at the faces of his pursuers. He finds himself face to face with Smudge Mal and Spots Wash. Both kittens are completely decked out in hunting gear. Monitor Man studies the two kittens.

“Hey. Are you two trying to kill me?”

There is no answer.  Spots Wash shifts a little hiding his super soaker water gun.

“Hey!” Monitor Man's yells can be heard through both bubble's perimeters. He sees Writer Lady's bubble floating on the far side of the kittens. “They're trying to kill me. Your kittens are trying to kill me!” His voice rings through the interior of her bubble as he looks at Writer Lady.

“Spots! Smudge!” Writer Lady says, scolding her two young charges. The kittens look at each other. Their eyes grow wide. Spots swallows and lowers his head as both face Food Provider a.k.a. Writer Lady a.k.a. Mom.

Smudge Mal looks at Writer Lady and holds her stare.

“What do you two have to say for yourselves?” She asks, looking from a stricken Spots Wash to an undaunted Smudge Mal. “Well?”

“Smudge Mal. Browncoat. Secret Service Agent Class 1.”

“And?”

“I am a Browncoat on a mission. I do not have to explain myself.” Smudge Mal responds.

“What mission?”

“Smudge Mal. Browncoat. Secret Service Agent Class 1.” He repeats.

Writer Lady looks at Monitor Man who is standing with his arms crossed in front of him looking at her expectantly. She looks at the kittens. “If you two don't tell me what's going on...there will be repercussions.”

“Repercussions?” Spots Wash whispers. He looks at his older brother. “Did you hear that? Repercussions. That means bad things. I don't like bad things.”

“We are Browncoats. We have grit. Browncoats aren't scared of bad things.” Smudge Mal says.

“What if she doesn't love us any more?”

“Look at the way she's looking at you.” Smudge Mal whispers. “The disappointed eyes, the sad expression. Not possible.”

“What if she takes our food away?” Spots Wash asks.

“Once again look at her face. Not possible.”

“What if she takes away our toys?”

“We have to be tough about this.” Smudge Mal says. “If we tell her what's going on now then she'll have us spilling our guts all the time.”

“What if she takes away our toy mice?” Spots Wash asks. “What if you have to spend your days without Mousy?”

Smudge Mal looks at the scenery between his combat boots, the lush meadow clearly visible through the bubble's protective layer. “It's a hard thing. Sometimes tough guys have to do hard things.”

“You love Mousy. You take him everywhere...to bed, to the water bowl, to the litter box. You bite us if we try to take him from you.”

“I love Mousy. I love the mission more. A Browncoat does not relent.” Smudge Mal says, tightening his jaw and quickly looking away.

“That's your final word?” Writer Lady asks.

“That's my final word.” Smudge Mal answers, looking at Writer Lady.

“Very well.” She says. “When we get home...”

Smudge Mal's eyes begin to tear.

“Wait...” Spots Wash says. “...don't take Mousy away. Smudge Mal isn't trying to be bad. Food Provider, we came to Faerie to prove ourselves. We are on this mission to prove ourselves worthy of protecting our future President---Tinkletoes.”

A strange noise grows louder. All beings kitten and human alike watch as a large object races towards them braking moments before impact. The bubble arrives stopping suddenly and thrusting its only passenger against its inner wall. The person's face temporarily rearranged into something alien.

“What the...?” Tinkletoes asks.

Riding The Bubble

   Writer Lady  stands in front of the other bubble and studies it.  Finding what looks like the same spot Monitor Man has she places her hand on the bubble’s outside.  The bubble warms and begins to glow.  Monitor Man looks over and studies her progress.  “Only use a little pressure.”

 She adjusts the pressure that she is using.

 “A little less…a little less… be gentle.”  He says.  He watches as she adjusts pressure.  “Do you have any concept of how to use a soft touch?”

  “Um…yeah?”  Writer Lady eases up a little.

  “You need to ease up.” 

  “I just did.”

 “Ease up a bit more.”

Writer Lady looks at Monitor Man.   “It doesn’t like me.”  She says.

 “Don’t be silly just ease up.”  Monitor Man eases into his bubble even more.  “Relax.”

Writer Lady wiggles around a bit in an effort to look relaxed.  When the bubble begins to respond she does begin to relax.

  “Keep relaxing.”  Monitor Man encourages.  “That’s good.  Step forward.”

 The bubble softens even more.  Soon Writer Lady’s hand and wrist are inside the bubble.  The bubble continues making its way up the length of her arm.

“See?  It’s working.  Stay relaxed and let the bubble do the work.”

A slit lights up along the outside of the bubble beginning at Writer Lady’s arm and working its way down.  “What do I do now?”  Writer Lady asks.  There is no sound.  “Monitor Man.   Monitor Man?”  Writer Lady looks at the other bubble.  Monitor Man is safely inside.  “I guess these things are sound proof.”   She says looking at Monitor Man.  He smiles and gives her the thumbs up, encouraging her to continue entering her bubble.    Writer Lady studies the slit and eases her way forward a couple of inches.  The bubble continues forward closing the distance between them.  Writer Lady has one arm up to her shoulder and a half a leg inside when Monitor Man’s bubble begins to rise from the ground.  “Oh no you don’t.”  She says glaring at his bubble.

“No…no…no.”  Monitor Man says, the bubble he is occupying continues rising.   “We are waiting for Writer Lady.”  The bubble continues rising.  He looks down at Writer Lady, she is almost inside of her bubble. “Stop.”  Monitor Man yells, the bubble stops rising and floats in a holding pattern.  “Thank you.” 

  The moment that Writer Lady makes it inside her own bubble Monitor Man’s takes off at full speed.  She is jostled around as hers takes off immediately  in pursuit.  An odd noise surrounds.  “What is that?”

  “It’s some sort of communications system.  We can talk to each other.”  Monitor Man’s voice resonates throughout her bubble.

“Hello.”  He says.

“Hello,”  Writer Lady says, looking around the bubble as she speaks, unsure of the location of her bubble’s microphone.

“It’s okay.  I can hear you.  There’s no need to speak so loudly.” 

“What?  Why?  How?”  Writer Lady asks.

“I don’t know.  I said that I wanted to talk to you, I heard a beep and there you were.” 

“Isn’t the bubble organic?  What about biology?  The physiology of organic life?  The laws of physics?” 

“I don’t know.  Maybe it’s because we’re in Faerie.  Maybe it occurs naturally here.”

The bubbles rose and fell naturally over the landscape.  First giving them views of fields of wildflowers and then skimming over water.  Writer Lady sees the mountains growing in the horizon. “Where are we going?”  She asks.

“Good question.” 

 “I talked to the bearded guy and I know what to do.”  Smudge Mal says, looking out at the empty sky in front of them.  “Where’s Monitor Man?”  He asks.

 “He took off.”  Spots Wash says.

 “It’s okay little brother.  That Santa guy says that after you get inside the bubble all you have to do is think about your destination, picture it, or say it. All we will have to do is say that we want to find Monitor Man and the bubble should head right for him.”

 “There’s something else. “

Smudge Mal looks at Spots Wash and waits.

 “I saw the person with Monitor Man.” 

“Who is our second contestant?”  Smudge Mal asks.

“It’s a woman.”

“He finds girls everywhere.” 

 “The woman looked a lot like Food Provider.”

“How much like Food Provider?”

“Her clothes looked different.”  Spots Wash says.

“Anything else?”

“No just her clothes.”

“Food Provider is with Monitor Man in Faerie.  We are in Faerie to take Monitor Man prisoner.  Do you know what this means?”

Spots Wash does not answer.

“Extra points.  Let’s get this bubble flying.” 

“Sending a text.  You think it comes down to sending a text?”  Paige demands.

Peter, Dylan, and Diomedes all stop what they are doing and look at Paige.  They look at each other. 

“Yeah.  Why wouldn’t it?”  Peter asks.

“Keeping this place running is a big responsibility.  Huge.”  Paige says, pacing the floor.  “Who is going to send out bill payments,  keep Dylan out of trouble, keep food in the house?  Who is going to keep TP from playing with Tinkletoes’ weapons?  What about House?” 

Peter and Dylan look at each other.  “What about House?”

She wants a makeover.  She has Mural Man, Ray, and TP in the bonus room for a planning meeting as we speak. 

“TP is out of trouble.”  Peter says.  “Everything is fine.” 

“I have to explain everything don’t I?  House is not a woman, she’s a house.  When she gets a makeover it means that the house will be changed.   Writer Lady told us to keep things the way that they have always been.  If House gets her way Writer Lady’s instructions will not be followed.  What if Writer Lady gets mad at us all?   What if she sends us away?” 

“I want new fixtures, floors,  skylights, three more bedrooms, a ballroom. Clean lines, no more of this traditional crap.”  House smiles as she stands at the big white board.  “The only way that this is going to work is…another floor.  We need a second floor.”  House sighs contentedly, admiring her work.

“That is very ambitious.”  Mural Man says,  standing close to House.  “Very you.” 

Damon wanders in and studies the board.  He leans in close.  The demon reaches into his pocket and pulls out a rag.  He begins erasing. 

Enchanted Letters and Kittens On The Prowl

“Thank you Damon.” Diomedes says, accepting the letter. It is wrapped in a heavy parchment envelope and has been secured with a wax seal. The seal pulsates with a strange pink glow.

Dylan climbs up on to the couch to get a closer look. “It's glowing,” the tow haired boy says.

Peter and Paige make their way to Diomedes' other side to inspect it. Furnatche runs over to Diomedes and whimpers until someone picks him up. The baby dragon sniffs at the envelope intensely and begins to purr. His fur begins to glow in the same pattern as the wax seal.

“I didn't know that you could do that.” Dylan says reaching out to pet Furnatche.

“He is a magical creature. He is simply recognizing the power of other magical creatures.” The seven foot dragon says.

“He doesn't glow for you.” The four year-old points out.

Diomedes smiles gently. “The magic of Faerie travels along a wide range of wavelengths. Clearly, I am from a different part of Faerie than Furnatche is. This letter must have come from a place very close to Furnatche's home.”

Dylan looks down at Furnatche and says, “Maybe it's for you.”

“Let's see, shall we?” Diomedes suggests, breaking the seal on the letter, and opening it.

Diomedes,

If you are reading this something has gone horribly wrong. That last sentence sounds a bit clichéd doesn't it? Unfortunately it is the truth. Something has gone wrong. Well, I'm stuck, in Faerie. I don't know that I'm stuck but I am in Faerie and since it is a magical place existing in another dimension and I don't know how to get back home...I'm stuck. I am having trouble recalling many of the specifics of life in Faerie which puts me at a loss of what to do next. Usually someone ends up here and has some kind of fantastic adventure. I have to admit that it has been an adventure so far. Let me get you up to speed.

When we discovered that the house had grown too quiet and parted ways to search for the kittens TP told me that he knew where all of the cats were and he would lead me to them. I could tell from the calls traveling throughout the house that they could not be found. I decided to follow his directions keeping in mind that he is TP and usually up to something. Most definitely up to something this time. I followed his directions to stand in my closet, turn around five times fast, and sing “Dark Horse” by Katy Perry. He promised me cheese puffs and entrance to Faerie. I did it. It was scary, painful to my ears, and lasted way too long. I saw a strange light in the upper corner of the closet. There might be video. If there is please destroy it. Don't watch it if you want to keep your ability to hear...anything. Seriously.

I ended up in a part of Faerie that is amazing. It looks exactly the way I always pictured it. A place of lush, green meadows full of wildflowers, cottages, idyllic villages. It was idyllic until I met the ogre. He cornered me at the entrance to an alley behind the town square. He kept telling me how good I smelled and how I reminded him of a baker he'd had for dinner once upon a time. I asked him if the baker was the guest or the entrée. Damon found me before the ogre had a chance to answer. He has become quite eloquent since we last met.

The point is that Damon got me back on track. Neither one of us are quite sure where that track leads so I left this note with Damon and sent him back the way I came hoping that he would find his way back to you.

I don't know how long I will be gone. Keep things going the way that they have always been for now. Try not to arouse suspicion. Text my folks from time to time so that they don't stop by to see if anything is wrong. I hope to return soon. If too much time passes and the cats return they are going to have to go live with Grandma for a while. Sorry Dobby Cat these things happen. I love you all. Be safe. Take care of each other.

Love,

Writer Lady

“Duuude...this is serious.” Ray says, looking at Damon.

The demon nods his head, toilet paper flutters with each nod.

“There is no need to worry.” Diomedes says reassuringly. “We just need to make sure that we text Grandma. If someone could just tell me, what is a text?”

Everyone looks at each other.

Dylan rolls his eyes and says, “It's okay. I've got this.”

“It looks like he's going to try using one of those flying bubble things.” Spots Wash says.

“He's looking for a way in.” Smudge Mal continues, finishing his brother's thought. “We need to find one of the those bubbles too.”

A bubble passes overhead landing several yards behind them. The kittens watch as the bubble's passenger disembarks. He is a portly elf with a long white beard, wearing shorts and a brightly colored shirt. A long red sleeve trimmed with white fur is tumbling out of a bag that the elf is carrying.

“Wait here. Watch and remember where that bubble goes. I'll be right back.” Smudge Mal says.

Spots Wash watches as Monitor Man walks around the bubble searching for an entrance. Monitor Man starts feeling along the outside of the bubble. His hand stops when the surface of the bubble starts to change color. He smiles. His hand begins pushing through the bubble's perimeter.

“Hey.”

Spots hears him call out.

“Hey!”

The kitten listens as someone approaches and stands on Monitor Man's far side outside Spots' line of sight.

“Something is happening.” Monitor Man says.

Spots listens for an answer from their target's unknown traveling companion. A hawk flies overhead screeching, and drowning out all other discernible sounds.

“I placed my hand on the surface of the bubble, it started glowing, and after a few seconds I was able to push my way through...or maybe the bubble is pulling me in. I can't tell. Try it.” He says. “I'll wait for you.”

At the same time more and more of Monitor Man's arm enters the bubble.

“Hurry.”

A slit glows along the outside of the bubble traveling down from where his arm has entered. A tip of one foot begins edging towards the slit.

“Things are starting to speed up here. Hurry.”