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This page last viewed: 2017-10-17 and has been viewed 1155 times

TITLE: Dialogue


Author: Dragoness



SUMMARY: Answer to "Who Said What?" Challenge posted at the V.A. list.

WARNINGS: None. Well, maybe a tad cheesy.

PARTS: Complete

^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^

Amy stood next to the driver's door of the van, bent at an odd angle to see herself in the side mirror. Using the brown pencil as Hannibal had taught her, she worked carefully around the corners of her eyes, subtlely aging them. So intent was she on her delicate task, that she didn't notice Face standing beside her until she reached out to lay down the pencil on the beam of a sawhorse that today doubled as a makeup table.

"Stop staring at me," she warned. She reached for a scruffy gray wig. Why do I have to be the decoy? she thought. I'm gonna look like roadkill.

"I can't help it," said Face.

"Sure you can," grumped B.A. from behind a magazine. "Just turn your head, it's real easy."

"For you, maybe," countered Face as Amy drew the wig over her carefully netted hair, "but that is captivating."

Amy tucked here and fluffed there, bobbing about to see all the angles she could in the small mirror. She flashed a sharp look at Face, who hadn't moved.

"I mean it. Stop staring at me!"

Just then the back door opened Hannibal and Murdock returning from their scouting run.

"Hey, what's up?" Amy called to them, glad of a chance to change the subject.

Hannibal strolled leisurely across the garage with Murdock bunny-hopping along behind him. "Oh, you know, same old, same old. They're outside waiting for us. You'd think they'd give up by now, huh." He watched as Amy applied a false wart to her chin. "Hey, that's captivating."

"Oh, shut up."

B.A. closed his magazine and tossed it into a cardboard box. "So what's the plan?"

"Do what we always do," Hannibal said with a shrug.

"But we do it in style, right?" Face added, nudging Amy.

Hannibal fished a fresh cigar out of his jacket pocket. "What other way is there to do it?"

"Well, according to you," Amy replied, still glaring into the mirror, "many more than we think of."

"Can I help it if I'm a genius?" Hannibal lit his cigar and puffed it to life.

"No," said Amy, "but you can help others by not promoting it."

Hannibal grinned in that infuriating way of his. " Just trying to spread the knowledge. Everyone should have a gift like that."

Murdock, who had shuffled around the far side of the van during the conversation, popped up suddenly from behind the mirror, startling Amy. He turned his head sideways as he regarded her new persona. "It really is captivating, huh? I mean, there's just no other word for it."

Amy's eyes narrowed. " It might look more captivating from an angle of face-up and flat on your back, you know."

Murdock gasped melodramatically. "You wouldn't dare!"

Amy jabbed the blunt end of a powder brush toward Murdock's nose. "Try me."

"Hey!" objected Murdock, drawing back a step.

"Hey!" Face exclaimed. Amy turned on him, wielding the brush like a tiny rapier.

"Hey," said Hannibal in his it's-time-to-break-this-up kind of tone.

"What's with all the hay?" B.A. interjected. He rose from his makeshift sofa of sandbags to join the others. "Someone let a horse out?"

"Damn it, not you, too!" Amy groaned.

"What I say?"

"It's a touchy thing," Murdock said in a loud whisper.

"I am not touchy," Amy snapped.

Face stepped up and eased an arm around her. "Nah, but I heard you were feely."

She glowered at his teasing grin. "Not with you."

Face drew back. "I'm hurt," he said, putting a hand to his heart, "and shocked."

Murdock, who now stood with his hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels, wore an expression of boredom. "What are we waiting here for, anyway?"

"Car keys," B.A. replied, glowering at Hannibal.

Amy was just about to slip a set of prosthetic yellow teeth into her mouth. "What?"

"It seems that someone lost them," B.A. growled. He continued to glare at Hannibal.

"Don't look at me," Hannibal said, gesturing with cigar in hand. "You said keep them in a safe place."

Face shook his head. "Not that safe."

"I could think of no other."

"And apparently your thoughts have taken a rapid decline since then," commented Murdock. He reached into a hip pocket and drew out a key ring caked with dried mud and grass. B.A. snatched it from him. He opened his mouth as if to demand of the crazy fool where he had found them, then seemed to decide he really didn't want to know.

"It's not my fault," protested Hannibal. "I was . . ." he cast about for a moment, and his eyes landed on Amy, " . . . captivated."

"Right," said Amy, turning back to the mirror to adjust her teeth. She picked up an old, tattered coat that Murdock had scrounged out of a garbage bin somewhere and put it on.

"That's it," she declared.

Hannibal patted her on the back and guided her to the door where she would make her appearance, while the others piled into the van, ready to make another spectacular escape.


Dialogue by Dragoness



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