Titans
Chapter Three – Honky Tonk Blues and Royal Oil
Tuesday
BHC Grounds
“OH LORD I GOT ‘EMMM, I GOT THE HOOOOOONKY TONK BLUUUES!” Justin sang, pulling on his cowboy boots. “WELL I WENT TO A DANCE AND WORE OUT MY SHOES, WOKE UP THIS MORNING WISHING I COULD LOSE THE HONKY TONK BLUES!” He stood up and did a little two-step over to the stereo and turned up the volume to his Hank Williams CD. He pulled on his shirt as the CD switched tracks to “Jambalaya,” and started packing his bags.
“Sing it, Hank!” Justin said as he stuffed some clothes into his duffel. He stuck his boot-knife in his boot, and the belt knife in its sheaf on his belt. He stopped the CD, put it in its case and tucked into his waistband. He threw his duffel over his shoulder, grabbed his black Stetson off the hat rack and put it on. He opened the door to see Abby Gannon’s fist.
“Woah!” he shouted, and ducked.
“Hold it right there, cowboy,” she said, lowering her hand to her side.
Justin realized he had opened the door when she was gonna knock and stood back up. “What for?” he asked, suspicious.
“Well, I was going to tell you to see a doctor, but it looks like you’re headed somewhere. What’s up?” she asked.
“I got some things to tend to in Houston. I’ll be back in a couple of days,” he said.
“Are you gonna see a doctor?”
“Yes, MOM, I am. You’re as bad as Rhia-… well, never mind. I gotta head out now,” he said irritably.
Abby stood in his way. Justin had been having a hard time lately, really stressed out. On top of his increasingly painful and mysterious health problems (which he always tried to deny until now), he had relationship problems. “Not yet,” she said, her eyebrows furrowing.
A weird expression crossed Justin’s face for a brief moment. “Okay. What’s goin’ on?” he asked, as he stepped backwards and sat on his bed. Abby wondered why Justin was being so compliant. He could be irritatingly stubborn at times. He must be really sick to be this compliant. “You’re not going alone,” she said. “I’m going to send somebody with you.”
“Ooo! Can you send Michelle, that cute little chef’s assistant? I like her,” he said grinning.
“No. I don’t know who I’ll send though, I’ll have them meet you out at the garage,” she said.
“I really don’t need a babysitter, y’know.”
“Not under normal circumstances. You’re sick, and you know it. These… seizure things come and go at any time. It’s too dangerous to be alone in your condition.”
“My condition? Jeez, I’m not frikkin’ pregnant,” he said. Abby sighed, and walked over to him. She realized this had to be hard for him; he was a really independent person. He was constantly going off gallivanting around and relying only on himself to save his skin, and now he was reduced to someone who couldn’t even finish a training program without coughing up blood, and to waking up every other night, falling off his bed with nightmares, and the one person he depended on for emotional stability was out of his life. He had to be a wreck on the inside. “Justin,” she said, “I’m really worried about you.”
His shoulders sagged and he sighed. His face relaxed, and suddenly you could see the obvious signs of stress and worry on it. “I’m really falling apart, ain’t I?” he asked putting his face in his hands, and resting his elbows on his knees. Abby sat down on the bed next to him.
“Rexy,” she said, using her nickname for him, “we’ve been friends since we were Marauders and Silver was King and Nemesis was Queen. I know you. I know you don’t want anybody watching your back all the time. You think that’s your job, watching other people’s backs. And you’re good at it, it’s what you do best. But… Well, if you go off, and have one of these attacks, and get yourself killed, it’ll hurt. Please, let me assign a couple of the Dragonfire members to go with you.”
Justin sighed and nodded.
“Good. And hey, I’m sure you could find something to teach them on the trip, right?”
He grinned. “I know some interesting things about spatulas…”
“Pervert,” Abby said, shoving him. “You get ready, and I’ll meet you out front.”
+++
Nate Sommers walked down the hall toward the elevator. He had just been going over the Nightwatch reports from the Keep, and Storm said there was still nothing to report. Except that the hidden cameras in the Russian president’s home reported that he was having trouble pleasing his wife. Nothing to report. Nate wished something would happen. He pressed the down button, and the doors slid open. Rogue was in the elevator, and she smiled when she saw him.
“Nate,” she said, “Just the man I was looking for.”
+++
Voriah (a.k.a. DarkFallenAngel) leaned back in her desk. Another day of monotony at the Academy. She sighed and wished something would happen. Almost as if her wish came true (and it pretty much did), the Black Queen, Rogue strolled in the door, with the Black Rook, Nate Sommers on her heels. Rogue walked over to RKB, who was teaching them Advanced Chemistry, and started whispering in his ear.
“Voriah,” RKB said when Rogue was finished, “Will you please accompany the Queen to the hall, please?”
Voriah nodded and stood. “Naughty, naughty,” Chastity muttered as Voriah walked out the door. Voriah glared at her over her shoulder.
+++
Justin leaned against the black ’67 Charger, the suspension straining against his density, and the speakers blaring The Mighty Mighty Bosstones’ “Royal Oil”, and him singing along with it. His duffel and dope-bag were in the trunk. He was formulating his plan, though to anybody looking at him, he was just a dude relaxing against a car. That always worked to his advantage, how most people underestimated his ability to formulate plans. Right now, he was trying to decide whether to ditch whoever the tag-along Rogue would send with him at the private airstrip, or in Houston.
If he ditched them at the airstrip, they’d report immediately to Rogue, and she’d send the whole BHC after him. If he ditched them in Houston, they might be a little less likely to report that (after all, they had kept tabs on him all the way to Houston!) right away, and waste their time looking for him in a city they knew nothing about. He was glad that nobody knew anything about Houston but himself. He decided he’d ditch the sitter in Houston.
The door at the top of the steps opened, and out walked Rogue, followed by Nate Sommers and Voriah Cayne, both carrying luggage. “Two?!” Justin exclaimed.
“Don’t even think about ditching them, either!” Rogue said.
Justin frowned. How did women do that? It was freaky.
“Promise me,” she said.
Justin grumbled, “I promise.” He pointed to Voriah, and said, “You drive.” He walked around to the passenger side and climbed in. Nate and Voriah exchanged glances, shrugged and threw their luggage in the trunk.
"One more thing," Rogue said, "how do you go from Hank Williams to the Bosstones in a thirty minute period?"
Justin arched an eyebrow, a little incredulously, and said, "I'm a Houstonian." Voriah wondered whether he said it as if Rogue should know that, or if the reason was self-explanatory. Either way, nobody else knew what he meant.
“Don’t let him ditch you,” Rogue said in a voice like a parent warning a kid about hot stoves. Voriah shook her head in vexation and, after Nate climbed into the backseat, slid into the drivers seat and put the car in gear.
+++
Dallas, Texas
Khalid Hunter practiced a Chopin piece in the Convention Center, still half asleep. He stopped and checked his watch. It was already 2:30 p.m., and he hadn’t eaten lunch yet. That wouldn’t be too bad if had not skipped breakfast this morning. He walked backstage and out the side entrance, to the employee/performer parking lot, then stopped dead in his tracks. A surge of magical energy suddenly drew his attention… upward. A Gulfstream IV flew overhead, southward from the direction of the airport. An ice blue aura extended outward from the plane, and Khalid thought it would just get bigger and bigger. Then suddenly, it winked out of existence, and the plane flew on it’s way.
”Strange… that type of magic is certainly familiar…but where have I…?” he said to himself. He coughed, “I mean, yeah, that was strange.” He had to be careful, he couldn’t let anybody see those glowing tatooes.
END TITANS THREE
That's right, kids! Two chapters for the price of one!
<-- FOOTER BEGIN HERE -->
:::::::::::::::::::
Sic Temper Tyrannus
DarkWolf, TBK - "When somebody loved me, everything was beautiful..."
a.k.a. Rexy
High Commander Monkey
True King of Siam
President of Everything
The Animal Man
Un Caballero
'Qui'st'l'caballo, amigo.
Harb/Cronos isn't the ONLY one who can qoute Latin!
|