Spy Interrupted

For Mom and Dad (We Miss You Dad)

Writer Lady turns off the water to the shower and pushes the curtain aside. Grabbing her towel she dries herself off quickly. The bathroom is foggy with steam. She barely misses Spots as she steps on to the rug.

“I’m sorry kitty. I didn’t see you.”

“Yeow.”

“I have got to stop cranking the hot water. My skin is getting so dried out.”

She finishes toweling off and heads to the kitchen.

“What do you think, veggie soup or potato soup?”

Writer Lady looks at Spots.

“The veggies would be healthier...” She reads the labels. “Pearl onions. No, I need something to coat my stomach. Cream soup it is.”

She enters High Command with dinner in tow, sitting down, she proceeds to continue writing her story.

“Her story?”

Writer Lady shifts her gaze to find a handsome spy reading over her shoulder, espresso in hand. “I am the creator, you are the character. I'm telling the story, hence, the word, her.”

“My dear sweet creator, if I was not here nothing interesting would happen.”

“If I had not created you then you wouldn’t exist therefore you would not being doing all the way cool things.” She stops typing and grasps her hands in front of her waiting for Scotch to finish reading her response.

“You don’t have to wait for me to read. I am an Oxford man.”

She adds his response, pauses again, and waits.

“No really. You don’t have to do that.”

A smile crosses her lips which she contains quickly hoping the spy will not notice her enjoyment at his discomfort.

Scotch leans closer and catches her smiling.

Writer Lady grins. “Sorry. I couldn’t resist Luv.” She rises from her seat in the Big Writing Chair and collects her dirty dishes, taking them into the kitchen. When she returns Scotch has taken her seat and taken over custody of the computer. She coughs to get his attention. Nothing happens. She coughs again a bit more loudly this time.

Scotch turns to address her. “I’m sorry were you needing something?”

Writer Lady points to the chair. “I would like my seat back.”

“For what purpose?” He asks.

“To continue my story.”

Scotch’s finger hovers over the back facing arrow.

“To continue writing the story.” She corrects.

Scotch begins deleting letters. (correc)

“To continue writing your story?”

Scotch stops deleting and repairs the damage. The spy relinquishes his seat with great ceremony. “By all means, take my seat, please.”

Writer Lady sits down. “Thank you Scotch.”

Three Days Later

Scotch was still sitting at the computer. He blinked. He blinked again. The spy scratched his chin. He needed a shave. A shave? He wondered how long he had been here. With these...pervs. Pen was right all he had succeeded in doing was finding a large population of men all looking for dates. How was he ever going to face her?

“What?” Scotch’s voice invaded Writer Lady’s peaceful moment. “I would never let a case get the best of me. I’m a professional.”

"Professional what?” Tinkletoes’ voice asks from Writer Lady’s other side. “Whiner?”

Writer Lady pretends to ignore all of the um...whatever these ya-hoos are up to and continue writing the story.

“That’s supposed to be my story.” Scotch points out.

“Who you calling a yahoo?” Tinkletoes asks.

Writer Lady looks at Tinkletoes and raises an eyebrow.

“She caught you with that one.” Scotch points out grinning.

“That’s okay.” Tinkletoes says. “I’m a giving guy. It’s important to let a girl think she’s winning every now and then. It looks good.”

Writer Lady stops typing and drums her nails on the table.

“What happens to the stuffed shirt next?” Tinkletoes asks.

“He’s not a stuffed shirt.” Writer Lady corrects. “Scotch is a spy. A very good one.”

“I’m a spy. A very good one.” Scotch looks at Tinkletoes. “And you are?”

Tinkletoes looks down at Scotch. “Bigger than you are.”

“Clearly.” Scotch responds enjoying the moment. “What are your talents, Sir?”

“I’m big and mean. I can kill any ninja zombie or space alien in existence. I train assassins and keep the creatures of Faerie from wandering beyond the confines of Writer Lady’s house...her yard. Except for that one time.”

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

“A couple of years ago, Writer Lady’s sister went through a thing and the door between Earth and Faerie was opened allowing all kinds of suitors to pursue her. Human, animal, magical creatures... They were everywhere.”

Scotch rocked back on his heels, barely able to contain his laughter. “One man couldn’t handle all of that on his own, could he? We all can’t be legendary, can we?”

Writer Lady stiffens. Unhappy with where this is going she is determined to prove that all of her characters have their own gifts and qualities and should be appreciated as such.

Tinkletoes fiddles with the mouse and brings up the monitor that Writer Lady is not using. “What is so challenging about being a spy? Let’s see...it looks like you’ve been hanging out online and you’re hacking into some lady’s account. She’s hot but still...”

“That is not some lady. That is my partner, Pen. We are solving a murder. Several and possibly thwarting an attempt to take over the world.”

“Thwarting, really?” Tinkletoes nods. He looks at Writer Lady. “How does a guy get a looker like that on his team?”

Writer Lady stops typing long enough to shoot a glare at the self-proclaimed mercenary. “Characters are created based on need and necessity. Pen is integral to this story. A looker like Pen is not integral to your stories. Besides you get to work with me, Aunt Purdy, and don’t forget House.”

“Yeah, but what do I gotta do to meet her?” Tinkletoes asks pointing to Pen’s profile picture.

“Not Be You.” Writer Lady says. She mutters. “The man is just one big walking, talking hormone.” She shakes her head.

Tinkletoes looks at Scotch. “She says that like it’s a bad thing.” The self-proclaimed mercenary shakes his head. “Women.”