Shadow King: Putting on the Ritz

[x-jeangrey.livejournal.com]

Jeannie meets Lady Braddock. Turns out these two are a bad combination ALL THE TIME.



"Yes, I want one pair of glass slippers and I want them delivered today. I don't care if they're made in Malaysia and your distributor is dealing with tensions in the region. I want them and I will have them." A brief pause. "Fine, tomorrow."

Betsy sat perched on her bed with her legs crossed. Her shoulder kept her cell phone up to her ear as she juggled the three style magazines in her lap. One magazine opened to the pair of glass slippers in question. "I thought so. Yes, yes and if you could make sure they had those little pink poofs on them. Perfect. Thank you."

She closed her flip phone, tossed it on the bed and let out a huff of disappointment.

Jeannie, having sat through her poking and prodding session with the nice red haired Scottish doctor, was on her way out of the medlab, planning on trying once more to see if there was anything watchable on tv these days when she heard the world's weirdest phone conversation coming from down the hall. Intrigued, she turned back and peered around the corner of the door just in time to see the blonde lady in the room close what looked for all the world like a tri-corder. Either she was crazy, or the future turned out to be Star Trek.

A noise in the hallway brought Betsy's attention to the fact that she was not alone. A flash of red hair and Betsy's grin returned with much enthusiasm. "Oh, Jeannie," she cooed. "Jeannie, dear. I know you're there. Why don't you come and play?"

Well that was just unnerving. Not so much that the blonde lady knew who she was - seemed everybody around here knew that - but the tone. Stepping cautiously into the doorway, Jeannie watched the blonde somewhat warily, hands clasped behind her back to keep from fidgeting. "Yes? Did you want something?" she asked.

"You were the curious little bird that was eavesdropping, yes?" Betsy said as she stood up and went to Jeannie. She grabbed the ends of her hair and tutted. "Did you get lost in 1985 because this," she motioned to her ensemble of dayglo shirts and cut off sweater. "Is Wrong. It will not do. Come now," Betsy stopped studying the young girl's teased hair and took Jeannie's hand in her own and headed for the exit. "Your disastrous attire warrants a little indiscretion on my part, don't you think?"

Jeannie wanted to protest the assault on her fashion, but by then the strange lady had hold of her hand and was more or less pulling her out of the room and while, physically, she might be a match for her, in her mind Jeannie was a slight eleven year old and so she didn't even really try to resist. "Where are we going?" she asked, not quite able to keep the quaver out of her voice. "I'm not supposed to go places with strangers."

"Well, that's fine by me," Betsy whispered, as she huddled herself and Jeannie against the wall, waiting for Amelia to pass them. "Despite your apparent love for time periods not meant to be revisited, I have seen you manage to not look completely hopeless."

They cleared the medlab and Betsy looked back at her charge as they headed up to the faculty floor through the back staircase. Betsy's behavior came off as manic almost slightly hysterical. The pair stopped on the third floor landing and headed towards Jean's former suite. "What? Stop staring at me as if I'll hand you a piece of candy and ask you to keep it a secret. I may seem a little peculiar but that doesn't mean I have a penchance for adults with child-like minds." She stopped in front of their door and placed her hand on the knob, turning it. She smiled as it opened. "Though I wonder what that says about Headmaster Summers?"

By now Jeannie was seriously considering kicking this crazy lady in the shins and making a break for it. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said, tugging at the too-tight grip Betsy had on her arm. "Let me go. I'll scream..."

"Hush up, silly girl." Betsy held firm on Jeannie's arm. "I won't let you go until we save your hair. I mean, seriously, teasing is meant for other things. Which you have..." She paused as the realization hit her. "Done many times before and yes, well. probably don't remember. Come on," she urged, half-dragging Jeannie into the room. "My patience is on a very fine thread. And the ginger-headed nuns downstairs can stay oblivious for only so long....."

"What the hell is going on here?" The angry demand came from Scott, who emerged from the bedroom with a half-buttoned shirt and a decidedly displeased look. "Betsy, what are you doing? Let go of her."

The blonde lady's words about Headmaster Summers were suddenly thrown into a disturbing light and Jeannie blushed bright red and tugged harder, trying to get away from the madwoman. "I'm sorry, Mr. Summers! She was in the medlab and she insisted we come up here. I don't know what's going on and I know I shouldn't talk to strangers but..." She was babbling and she clamped her mouth shut to try and stop.

Betsy looked from Scott and then to Jeannie. "Have you told her? Oh yes, you have! But she's squirming, isn't she? Jeannie," she pulled on the young girl's arm harder, a specific amount of glee on Betsy's face and brought the redhead in between herself and Summers. They were exactly the same height without heels as Betsy bobbed her head from left to right. "So, how does it feel to have the headmaster be your husband. Come on, tell us. How does it feel to know he shares your marital bed? That this is the man that makes your heart go all pitter-patter every time he walks in the room. Like now," she peered around Jeannie to get a look at her face. "Except you're looking more like a spooked doe with that expression. Don't you love him anymore?"

Jeannie was getting really tired of being afraid and confused, and now the psycho blonde space cadet was pushing her around and clearly fishing for a reaction. Jean didn't know what the hell was going on and she just wanted out. "I said let me go!" she shouted, then picked up a foot and drove it backwards into Betsy's shin.

He was so not standing here and watching while his crazy wife and crazier ex had at it. "Enough!" Scott barked, moving between them and taking Jean by the shoulders to pull her farther away as the kick won her a little space. The move succeeded in putting him between the two women, which was where he'd wanted to be. "Betsy, I swear to God I will have Moira and Amelia put you in restraints if you don't knock this shit off!"

"Temper, temper, Scotty-boy." Betsy cooed. She eyed Jeannie before taking a seat on the couch "You're going to blow a vessel the way that vein in your forehead is pulsating. I wanted to show our young friend here a way out of the eighties with as painless as possible and here you go ruining it all for us girls. But if you want to send the nuns up here after me then tell them I'll want my cuffs in blue."

Free at last Jeannie stumbled away, collapsing onto the couch and staring at Betsy. "Oh my God, you're a major psycho freak-o-rama! Seriously, Mr. Summers, she's crazy."

"She is definitely getting crazier," Scott muttered and finished doing up his shirt before he moved to pick up his phone. "Betsy, I hate to say it, but we're going to have to take steps about this Houdini act of yours."

"Why?" Betsy said, casually looking at her nails and then setting her eyes on Jeannie. "I really haven't hurt anyone and it's all in fun. So, what's the worry?"

"You certainly look like you've scared her," Scott said pointedly. "I know the two of you have not always been the best of friends, but she thinks she's eleven, Betsy."

"Yes, well." Betsy started, visibly annoyed. "I'm apparently a ravaging psychopath. All that establishes is that life is unfair, you are annoying, and that I'm crazy." Betsy stood up and headed to the door. "And now, I'm done."

Jeannie stared at the crazy blonde lady as she left, then fixed her worried gaze on Mr. Summers. "She's creep-tastic. I know I'm not supposed to talk to strangers, and she totally counts, but she got hold of me and I didn't know how to make her let go and I was really scared..." A pathetic little sniffled escaped and she rubbed her arm across her eyes.

Scott tried not to grind his teeth. "It's all right, Jean. Betsy... you stay right there. I'm calling someone to take you back downstairs."

Jeannie nodded faintly, pulling her legs up onto the couch so she could hide her face in her knees. "Not going anywhere," came the muffled reply.