Dylan pokes his head into the room. His older sister Paige’s head, appears just above his. “Ray wants to know if there are cookies.” He says.
Writer Lady situates herself so she can peer around Tinkletoes’ side. “We are out of cookies.”
“Is there anything else to snack on?” The six year old asks. “We’re hungry.”
“We are out of snack crackers, chips, and pretzels.” Writer Lady responds, as she runs through a mental list. “Chocolate and soda too.”
“There’s no food.” Dylan announces. He raises his eyes to his sister. “We’re gonna starve.”
“We’re out of junk food you big baby.” Paige responds to her brother. “There’s plenty of food in the house. Eat an apple.”
Tinkletoes turns to face the children. “Writer Lady is being naughty. Go eat your apples. I’m gonna see to it that she behaves.”
TP pops in, floating in front of Tinkletoes. “Don’t look down. You’re gonna get it now.” The faerie giggles.
Tinkletoes looks down. Writer Lady’s face is red, her eyes have deepened in color to a black shade of blue. Several moments pass and slowly… the redness dissipates and her eyes return to their natural bright cornflower blue. “Don’t be silly TP, I’m a grown woman. I would never resort to violence.” She looks at Tinkletoes then turns her attention to the open doorway, Writer Lady calls, “Dylan, tell Ray there’s a container of Creme De Menthe cupcakes in the refrigerator for everyone to snack on.”
“Those are my cupcakes.”
Writer Lady looks at Tinkletoes. “They were. Now if you’ll excuse me.” She says turning back to the computer.
“No.” Tinkletoes responds.
“No?”
“You’ve already gotten away with taking off on adventures with a pirate and brief dalliances with actor guys.”
“As you know, Pirate and I were saving the world from a full scale invasion of magical beings not to mention protecting my sister. I kissed Monitor Man, one time, Carp told me to.”
“Here you are again, writing yourself into a story so you can play patty cakes with some weirdo named Nathan.”
“Nathan huh?” Carp comments as he enters High command. “A gift from God. Tell me Writer Lady how are his pecs?”
Writer Lady turns to Carp, she points to the screen in front of her, “He’s a character in a story. He wears clothes the whole time. Pecs are not a thing.”
Carp raises an eyebrow. “Pecs are always a thing.” He looks the monitor and begins reading. “Yes. Okay. Yes. Got it.” The assassin-in-training looks at Tinkletoes. “I see where Writer Lady is going with this. The handsome yet strangely private man living in the big house on the cliffs in a place that rains a lot, the ghostly woman in white. It’s your standard Gothic ghost story.”
“No ghostly...?” The self-proclaimed mercenary asks.
Carp grins slightly and his eyes brighten, “Well, it wouldn’t be difficult to spice things up a bit. I know I would have the firelight reveal a silhouette of what is under her thin nightdress. The man of the house would wake to find the mysterious woman in white watching him sleep. He happens to sleep in the buff, of course. There is a strange attraction regardless of the dimensions that separate them...”
The wheel of Writer Lady’s chair meets with Carp’s toe.
“Of course, Writer Lady would never do that.” He says.
“Of course not.” Tinkletoes says. “She knows that would upset me. She’s always a good girl.”
Writer Lady’s back stiffens, her face reddens, she glares at Tinkletoes. “Don’t be too sure of that.” Writer Lady begins typing, furiously.
“You go girl.” House exclaims.
You Don’t Own Me by Lesley Gore echoes around them.
Carp glances at the screen, pales, and changes the subject, “How are your gaming numbers these days? I bet you’re beating Dobby’s pants off, if he wore pants.”
Tinkletoes turns his back to Writer Lady and the computer. “Cats don’t wear pants but if he did they would be mine.”
“That good?”
“Yeah. You should have seen the move I pulled on him just the other day. It was this airborne kick while shooting thing. It’s not in the book. It’s not in any of the books.”
Carp’s eyes wander to the monitor and grow large. He quickly nods and smiles at Tinkletoes. “How did you do it? Make your character do the shooting kicking thing.”
“That’s it, I don’t know. I have been practicing my finger motions for days. I can’t seem to recreate it.”
“Oh girl, that’s my kind of stranger.” House comments.
Writer Lady grins and keeps typing.
Tinkletoes turns around and looks at the monitor. His head tilts up and down, turning in odd directions like the self-proclaimed mercenary can’t quite picture exactly what Writer Lady is describing.
Carp reads it as well, his mouth drops open. “Hmm...I never thought of...interesting.” He leans down and whispers, “I have to get him out of here, keep going, there are some people I’d like to introduce you to when this is finished.”
Writer Lady’s expression does not change, she keeps typing.
Tinkletoes looks at Carp. “What happened? This isn’t right. She can’t do this. Make it stop.”
He leans down and whispers to Writer Lady, “You’ve made your point you can stop now.”
Writer Lady types faster.
“No.” Tinkletoes says, “Don’t...do...that.” He cringes.
“Is someone talking? I’m so busy writing I can’t hear a thing.” She says.
Another sentence appears on the page.
“Wow.”
“Whoa.” Tinkletoes shakes his head. The self-proclaimed mercenary continues shaking his head. “That’s it, I’ve had enough.” He pulls back her chair and places himself between Writer Lady and her keyboard. “No more writing.”
Writer Lady looks at Tinkletoes and says, “Excuse me...” An eyebrow raises.
“No more writing.” He repeats.
Writer Lady stands up, quietly placing a hand to each hip, she looks Tinkletoes in the eyes.
Carp takes several steps back, “Oh no.”
“Here it comes.” TP giggles.