The Orchid: Until The Next Time
Feb. 7th, 2009 08:30 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
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Scott and Jean head back home, the situation with Haverford resolved - for now.
They'd done better arranging a flight back; only two stopovers, this time, and this first plane was pretty much empty, no one else within half a dozen rows of where Scott and Jean were sitting. Scott had claimed the window seat, and was staring down at the Pacific. His head hurt. He knew it was partially Jean's headache, but not entirely.
"I figure, most of a day from where we dropped him," he said after a while. Proving where his mind still was, even half a day later.
"At least," Jean agreed mildly, eyes closed as she leaned back as far as the seat could go, resting. "Possibly more, given we didn't leave him any of his hiking gear - the foliage can get quite thick."
"That was less than ethical of us, wasn't it?" But Scott contemplated that knowledge - again - and once more, couldn't convince himself to be all that bothered about it. Haverford had started the nasty little game, after all. "Also possibly less than smart," and that was somewhat more bothersome. They'd both let their tempers get ahead of them.
She opened her eyes at that, turning to look over at him, face serious. "I don't know," Jean said after a moment. "I thought about that, but given the 'smart' option would have been even less ethical..."
"Limited options," Scott finally said. "Like you said, he's not done anything we could toss him to the authorities for." And maybe it made him petty, but he hadn't been prepared to let it go.
After all, there could have been something to the orchid story. He doubted it, but stranger things had happened. They'd brought the other two specimens back with them; it had taken some fast talking at customs. An old college friend of Jean's was a botanist; she could at least tell them if there appeared to be anything unusual about the plants.
Jean nodded, leaning back again, although she kept her eyes open, staring at the roof of the plane. "The problem is that he's obnoxious without really being dangerous. I dislike him intensely, and I worry that he might become dangerous, but I don't think we can treat him as though it's a foregone conclusion."
"We're probably in deep shit if he ever does find his magical whatsit," Scott pointed out, not quite dourly. He wished it was less likely than it was, but just from their own experience, it was hard to deny that there were things out there in the world that might do the trick. He led his head sag forward, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Sometimes there's just not a lot of point in thinking tactically," he muttered, a bit feebly.
"If Haverford ever manages to get some sort of super power, I see him either attempting to take over the world and spectacularly failing, although that may just be a result of his epic failures in his quest in general, maybe he'd be better at world ruling than I think, or basically dying happy. I mean, what does he even want to do with a super power?" Jean sat up suddenly, startled by this thought. "Does he even have a plan? It's like the driving force in his life is to be special. If he was special, for all we know? He'd just sit around on his estate, or whatever, back in England, and live the quiet life, masturbating to the idea of how neat he is."
Scott blinked. And blinked some more. And then looked over at his wife, very, very warily.
Jean met his look and sank back in her seat, attempting to look meek. "I'm just saying... do you really think that that man could ever really set himself up as a god?"
"I think he could potentially make a stab at it, given the opportunity. And it's more the damage he could do, trying, that I'm worried about," Scott said with a sort of grim amusement. She clearly needed some sleep. Not that he was one to talk. "I don't think he'd succeed."
"I just don't think anyone would really find him scary enough to cower before," she mused. "I mean, just look at how often he's gotten his ass handed to him by a girl." And that got the Evil Grin. It was more than possible she hadn't slept enough lately.
"Yes," Scott said after a moment, very gravely. "There is that. Have I mentioned how hot you are every time you do that? I particularly liked the way you did actually manage to bounce him out of the helicopter without doing grievous bodily harm."
The grin was no less evil for being suddenly quite cheery. It might have even been more evil. "Well, you know, I am very, very good."
"Very good," Scott affirmed, closing his eyes and leaning back against the seat. "It's going to be good to get home, you know. This was not precisely the vacation that either of us needed."
Jean snorted at that, although her hand was gentle as she reached over to smooth back his hair. "Yes, I think I need to email Betsy and inform her that her 'doctor's order' that I have a vacation clearly backfired."
"You and me and a beach on spring break. No exceptions, no last-minute crises. Sound like a plan?"
"Sounds like an excellent plan."
They'd done better arranging a flight back; only two stopovers, this time, and this first plane was pretty much empty, no one else within half a dozen rows of where Scott and Jean were sitting. Scott had claimed the window seat, and was staring down at the Pacific. His head hurt. He knew it was partially Jean's headache, but not entirely.
"I figure, most of a day from where we dropped him," he said after a while. Proving where his mind still was, even half a day later.
"At least," Jean agreed mildly, eyes closed as she leaned back as far as the seat could go, resting. "Possibly more, given we didn't leave him any of his hiking gear - the foliage can get quite thick."
"That was less than ethical of us, wasn't it?" But Scott contemplated that knowledge - again - and once more, couldn't convince himself to be all that bothered about it. Haverford had started the nasty little game, after all. "Also possibly less than smart," and that was somewhat more bothersome. They'd both let their tempers get ahead of them.
She opened her eyes at that, turning to look over at him, face serious. "I don't know," Jean said after a moment. "I thought about that, but given the 'smart' option would have been even less ethical..."
"Limited options," Scott finally said. "Like you said, he's not done anything we could toss him to the authorities for." And maybe it made him petty, but he hadn't been prepared to let it go.
After all, there could have been something to the orchid story. He doubted it, but stranger things had happened. They'd brought the other two specimens back with them; it had taken some fast talking at customs. An old college friend of Jean's was a botanist; she could at least tell them if there appeared to be anything unusual about the plants.
Jean nodded, leaning back again, although she kept her eyes open, staring at the roof of the plane. "The problem is that he's obnoxious without really being dangerous. I dislike him intensely, and I worry that he might become dangerous, but I don't think we can treat him as though it's a foregone conclusion."
"We're probably in deep shit if he ever does find his magical whatsit," Scott pointed out, not quite dourly. He wished it was less likely than it was, but just from their own experience, it was hard to deny that there were things out there in the world that might do the trick. He led his head sag forward, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Sometimes there's just not a lot of point in thinking tactically," he muttered, a bit feebly.
"If Haverford ever manages to get some sort of super power, I see him either attempting to take over the world and spectacularly failing, although that may just be a result of his epic failures in his quest in general, maybe he'd be better at world ruling than I think, or basically dying happy. I mean, what does he even want to do with a super power?" Jean sat up suddenly, startled by this thought. "Does he even have a plan? It's like the driving force in his life is to be special. If he was special, for all we know? He'd just sit around on his estate, or whatever, back in England, and live the quiet life, masturbating to the idea of how neat he is."
Scott blinked. And blinked some more. And then looked over at his wife, very, very warily.
Jean met his look and sank back in her seat, attempting to look meek. "I'm just saying... do you really think that that man could ever really set himself up as a god?"
"I think he could potentially make a stab at it, given the opportunity. And it's more the damage he could do, trying, that I'm worried about," Scott said with a sort of grim amusement. She clearly needed some sleep. Not that he was one to talk. "I don't think he'd succeed."
"I just don't think anyone would really find him scary enough to cower before," she mused. "I mean, just look at how often he's gotten his ass handed to him by a girl." And that got the Evil Grin. It was more than possible she hadn't slept enough lately.
"Yes," Scott said after a moment, very gravely. "There is that. Have I mentioned how hot you are every time you do that? I particularly liked the way you did actually manage to bounce him out of the helicopter without doing grievous bodily harm."
The grin was no less evil for being suddenly quite cheery. It might have even been more evil. "Well, you know, I am very, very good."
"Very good," Scott affirmed, closing his eyes and leaning back against the seat. "It's going to be good to get home, you know. This was not precisely the vacation that either of us needed."
Jean snorted at that, although her hand was gentle as she reached over to smooth back his hair. "Yes, I think I need to email Betsy and inform her that her 'doctor's order' that I have a vacation clearly backfired."
"You and me and a beach on spring break. No exceptions, no last-minute crises. Sound like a plan?"
"Sounds like an excellent plan."