A to Z Challenge: Q(uite nicely done…to a T!)


To read the whole story thus far…

Part 15: Quite Nicely Done…to a T!

Or Else became a blow to the back of Daniel’s head, as he was slow to move, holding onto Elora in a defensive position as she struggled with him screaming “OW OW OW OWWW!” Daniel was pressing on her back in JUST the wrong spot. In all the commotion he had forgotten that (1) she had a big bandage on her back (2) he had noticed there was some red smearing spreading BLOOD on that bandage on her back (when she had scooched onto him when the guy busted in) and (3) who was he to protect someone else when he was the one who usually needed protecting?

Just as he giving Elora some space, bang bang Winston’s silver hammer..well, gun..smacked Daniel in the exact same spot he so klutzily damaged before [see previous escapade of Daniel and the Rock].  Down he went to one knee with an “Ohhh, eeeee” out loud, knocked his head onto Elora’s rump with an “Ohh..oooooooooooooo, nice….” he thought, and wisely did not say out loud, and landed on the floor in a heap of right leg green, left leg blue and tush cheeks red. Elora tried to bend down to reach him, but she was in too much pain.

“Why did you do that? she screamed at Winston. “We were leaving!”

“I don’t have the time, or the patience, to deal with any dawdling.  From either of you. I thought I explained that quite succinctly just two minutes ago. This is the last time for fooling around, Daniel. I do not want to hurt the young lady. YOU do not want me to hurt the young lady, do you?”

Daniel shook his head no, which, under the circumstances was really not the smartest thing to do. It was a Daniel thing to do, and a few drops of newly raised blood fell to the floor in answer. Elora saw this, took a tissue out of her jeans pocket, and pressed it to the back of Daniel’s head. “It’s not as bad as before. Just a scab come loose,” she said after she gave it a quick look.

“Scab, heh…ow,” mumbled Daniel.

They were out of her place, into the driveway, and heading towards a sharp looking limo. The driver was in the front seat, head down, looking like he was asleep. Winston tapped on the passenger side window, and the driver came groggily alert and push clicked the back door open.

Winston made Daniel get in first and move all the way to the front near the drivers section. Elora hesitated. “Look, I told you, I realllllllly need my ointment, cream and fresh bandages. I just got this big honking tat, and it hurts and I’m bleeding.” She stared at Winston, and saw his constant smile crack just a little. That little was enough for Elora. She rushed inside and sat close to Daniel, shivering.

Sitting down in the back, Winston adjusted one trouser leg, and then the other. Straightening out his suit jacket and tie, he told the driver to continue on…”..and close the partition. Now, if you please.” Winston checked to make sure that the intercom between the two sections was off. He said a few choice words about the drivers mother and father, and when he got no response he breathed deeply. At no time had he altered the aim of the barrel of the gun. It was aimed right at Elora’s chest, just as he had in her place.

Daniel spoke up a few minutes later, as the car jostled down a road that no shock absorber or strut could correct enough. “What do you want with us? I don’t know you, and it’s obvious Elora doesn’t.”

“Yeah, what is your major malfunction, butt head?” Elora loved that saying. Butt head.

Winston’s constant smile did not falter this time.  He sneered vocally: “I don’t want ‘us’, I want you, Daniel. Elora…sorry to be so familiar, but as I am a butt head, I don’t know your last name.”

“Lightner,”  she croaked out before realizing she did.

“Ms. Lightner, a pleasure. Mr. Killigrew, it’s you I came for, and got. She,” he emphasized that she like SHE, “happened to be…available. This situation requires a little pressure on you, and Ms. Lightner happens to be that pressure.” Winston continued constant smiling. “My name is Winston. You may call me Sir.”

“Sir Winston?” Daniel said, impressed.

“No. Just call me Sir, and we’ll be fine.”

“Oh,” Daniel said, unimpressed and kind of let down. Visions of “This was their finest hour!” went crashing through his mind, and out one ear.

Sighing loudly being undignified, Winston inwardly sighed, puffing up and out his chest. Daniel giggled, thinking he looked like a frog, and Elora smacked him in the arm.

“ow,” he said softly. She shushed him. Her back was killing her. It was getting dry and itchy in some places, and it felt wet and runny in others. This was not going to be fun for her back unless he could get him to stop for some first aid.

Just as she was going to ask, Winston held up a finger, checked his Grande Complication by Jean Dunand watch,  with a mono-pusher split-second chronograph, split-second hand isolator, minute repeater, tourbillon, bi-retrograde perpetual calendar, and even a see-through sapphire back signed by its creator, and said: “We have an almost even three hours and twelve minute ride in front of us. I suggest you get as comfortable as you both can. I will do my best to explain why I needed you so ever badly, Daniel, and why you had to come along, Ms. Lightner.”

One hour and five minutes later, Winston had laid out his plan. Elora just stared at him with an open mouth and realllllllllllllllly painful upper back. Daniel was trying to wrap his head around the whole thing, and was now in the process of trying to retell Sir..um..Winston the directions he was given.

Forty-two minutes later, with coaching from Elora at a minimum, Winston’s constant smile grew a breadth constant larger. “Very good, Daniel. Very good indeed. That was quite nicely done…to. a. T! Do as you just retold, and you both shall leave this enterprise quite freely.” Winston shut down then, and just looked at the two of them, constant smile and gun unwavering.

Elora and Daniel looked at each other. Neither thought they would get out of this ‘enterprise quite freely.” Daniel reached for her hand unconsciously.

Consciously, Elora took it.


13 responses »

    • I really appreciate the comments. Honestly, I’m just trying to stay true to their individual characters (hope that is succeeding) and writing their “parts” to fit their character…more than writing the scene. Does that make sense? Am I breaking a writer’s rule? If so.don’t care. Glad your enjoying it.


      • We started to talk about it. My biggest problem in writing has been the material. When it’s wrong (false, not the right time, whatever) I just can’t write. I wrote a play that stumped me for a long time. The minute I took out a section, everything else flowed. Same thing with this: I really don’t think it’s the writer block all the time..it’s what is being FORCED to write, by who ever deems that.

        Make sense?


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