1 Xmas fanfic done, 9 to go!
Dec. 18th, 2009 12:57 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
laleiaFandom: Black Cat
Title: Feathers and Knots
Rating: G
Summary: Rinslett and Eve share a moment amidst the aftermath of ensued hilarity.
Author's Notes This was written as a Christmas present for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
shadows_rising but she is NOT allowed to read it until December 25th!
Rinslet scowled as she plucked yet another white feather from her frizzed hair. “This is not funny,” she declared, slanting a deadly glare at the laughing men. “I will shoot at the next chuckle I hear,” she warned. “Just try me.”
Train clapped his hands over his mouth, but a snicker escaped despite his best efforts. “That wasn’t a chuckle, more of a snicker really,” he defended, hiding behind Eve.
“I agree with Rinslet,” Eve said firmly, as she yanked a brush through a gluey knot in her hair. “This is decidedly not amusing.”
“Aw, little princess, don’t be so bummed,” Train half-consoled, barely suppressing another snicker. “Your first solo run never goes well.”
“And how were you to know that Rinslet had already set her sights on the target … or rather, on the target's engagement ring?” Sven was doing a far better job of disguising his snickers. “It’s not like she warned us ahead of time or anything. It’s more her fault than yours.”
“Excuse me,” Rinslet said indignantly. “I didn't know I had to warn you of my every intended move to avoid public humiliation. I haven’t flubbed this badly nor been so embarrassed since my first gig.” She punctuated each word with a yank of her hairbrush.
Eve flushed at Rinslet’s comment, stood up and said, “I’m going to my room.” So saying, she stalked out.
Sven half-rose to follow, a concerned look on his face, but Rinslet waved him down. “Give her some time to herself,” she advised. “She’ll want to regain her composure before joining us again.”
“She takes herself so seriously,” Train observed, leaning back in his chair. “She really should lighten up more.”
“She’s going through puberty, idiot,” Rinslet said fondly. “You should be thankful she’s not throwing tantrums and declaring that you all don’t understand, and that you’re ruining her life.”
“Surely that’s not what you did,” Sven said. “Rail at your parents and sulk in your room? Doesn’t sound like you.”
“My parents were dead by the time I hit puberty,” Rinslet sighed, offering a rare piece of her history. “You’re right, though. I didn’t spend much time bemoaning my place in the world. I spent most of it plotting. But then, I didn’t exactly have a normal childhood.”
“Eve hasn’t exactly had a normal one either,” Train pointed out wryly.
“There,” Rinslet said, putting down her brush and inspecting herself in the mirror. “Now, I think it’s time I joined Eve for a little talk.”
“I thought you said she ought to cool off?” Train asked with raised eyebrows.
“Oh, I’m sure a little girl talk won’t hurt,” Rinslet said with a mysterious smile.
--
Eve yanked furiously at a knot in her hair, and growled in frustration when it didn’t budge.
“You shouldn’t yank so hard, you’ll get split ends,” a voice said from the doorway.
Eve didn’t look up, just tried harder.
“You know, you did very well for your first solo gig,” Rinslet said.
“I chased the target out a window, through a mire, a chicken coop, three public arenas, and set my hair on fire before landing in a trash heap full of dead fish,” Eve said flatly. “I also blew your cover and got you soaked in sewage and covered with feathers. In fact, I don’t think it could have gone any worse.”
“You got your guy,” Rinslet said firmly. “That's rare for first-timers. I remember my first time …” she trailed off rather nostalgically, then winced in remembrance.
“I know how this is supposed to go,” Eve said emotionlessly. “Now is when you share a heartwarming story about your first gig complete with embarrassing sidenotes and wacky hijinks, before presenting your abysmal experience as an example of why I should be satisfied with my performance.”
“I’ll have you know that there were no wacky hijinks,” Rinslet said rather indignantly. “In fact, everything went smoothly until the end.”
She waited. Eve sighed, and took the bait. “What happened at the end?”
“The diamond I had so painstakingly stolen ended up being pickpocketed by some other thief on my way out,” Rinslet said with relish.
This caught Eve’s sattention. She put down the brush and actually turned around to face Rinslet. “That’s so embarrassing!”
“Thanks a lot,” Rinslet said dryly. “I was so caught up in elation that I’d run my first solo gig, I didn’t even notice the diamond was gone until I was back in my room. Certainly not one of my finer performances.”
“At least you didn’t set your hair on fire,” Eve made a face, and went back to working at her hair.
“Oh, don’t be a big baby,” Rinslet said. “Didn’t your nanomachines fix your hair completely?” She stepped behind Eve and sighed. “Give me that brush.”
Eve did as she said, and Rinslet began brushing through her hair, beginning with the tips and working up.
“Do you not brush your hair very often or something?” Rinslet asked. “You’re doing it all wrong. The harder you yank, the worse the knot gets. Is it that you rely on your nanomachines to fix your hair most of the time, or does the yanking actually work, normally?”
“Most days I don’t have knots,” Eve said, “and the nanomachines take care of the rest.”
“You should brush your hair a hundred strokes each night if you can,” Rinslet advised. “It’s a very meditative practice.” Slowly the knot began to loosen. “You know I’m not saying you should be satisfied with your performance. You should always be working to improve, plus I’m hoping the satisfactory performances in your future won’t involve me being tarred and feathered. I’m just letting you know it wasn’t as bad as you think.”
“They laughed at me at the police station,” Eve said.
“Trust me, being a laughingstock because of professional failure is far worse than just appearing ridiculous,” Rinslet said. “There, all done.” She met Eve’s gaze in the mirror. “It’s like combing through knots. The harder you try and the angrier you get, the worse it’ll be. You have to be patient.”
“I suppose,” Eve sighed.
“Now why don’t you go downstairs and see if your daddies will buy you a nice cake to make up for your bad day, hm?”
“They’re not my daddies,” Eve said, but she stood up anyways.
Rinslet slung her arm around Eve’s shoulder and began walking her downstairs. “Close enough. Now, what’s the best way to avenge ourselves?”
“Avenge ourselves?” Eve asked, curious.
“They laughed at us in our misery. We have to get back at them somehow,” Rinslet mused. “I’m thinking spiders.”
“I think there should be feathers,” Eve said gravely.
Fin
Title: Feathers and Knots
Rating: G
Summary: Rinslett and Eve share a moment amidst the aftermath of ensued hilarity.
Author's Notes This was written as a Christmas present for
shadows_rising but she is NOT allowed to read it until December 25th!Rinslet scowled as she plucked yet another white feather from her frizzed hair. “This is not funny,” she declared, slanting a deadly glare at the laughing men. “I will shoot at the next chuckle I hear,” she warned. “Just try me.”
Train clapped his hands over his mouth, but a snicker escaped despite his best efforts. “That wasn’t a chuckle, more of a snicker really,” he defended, hiding behind Eve.
“I agree with Rinslet,” Eve said firmly, as she yanked a brush through a gluey knot in her hair. “This is decidedly not amusing.”
“Aw, little princess, don’t be so bummed,” Train half-consoled, barely suppressing another snicker. “Your first solo run never goes well.”
“And how were you to know that Rinslet had already set her sights on the target … or rather, on the target's engagement ring?” Sven was doing a far better job of disguising his snickers. “It’s not like she warned us ahead of time or anything. It’s more her fault than yours.”
“Excuse me,” Rinslet said indignantly. “I didn't know I had to warn you of my every intended move to avoid public humiliation. I haven’t flubbed this badly nor been so embarrassed since my first gig.” She punctuated each word with a yank of her hairbrush.
Eve flushed at Rinslet’s comment, stood up and said, “I’m going to my room.” So saying, she stalked out.
Sven half-rose to follow, a concerned look on his face, but Rinslet waved him down. “Give her some time to herself,” she advised. “She’ll want to regain her composure before joining us again.”
“She takes herself so seriously,” Train observed, leaning back in his chair. “She really should lighten up more.”
“She’s going through puberty, idiot,” Rinslet said fondly. “You should be thankful she’s not throwing tantrums and declaring that you all don’t understand, and that you’re ruining her life.”
“Surely that’s not what you did,” Sven said. “Rail at your parents and sulk in your room? Doesn’t sound like you.”
“My parents were dead by the time I hit puberty,” Rinslet sighed, offering a rare piece of her history. “You’re right, though. I didn’t spend much time bemoaning my place in the world. I spent most of it plotting. But then, I didn’t exactly have a normal childhood.”
“Eve hasn’t exactly had a normal one either,” Train pointed out wryly.
“There,” Rinslet said, putting down her brush and inspecting herself in the mirror. “Now, I think it’s time I joined Eve for a little talk.”
“I thought you said she ought to cool off?” Train asked with raised eyebrows.
“Oh, I’m sure a little girl talk won’t hurt,” Rinslet said with a mysterious smile.
--
Eve yanked furiously at a knot in her hair, and growled in frustration when it didn’t budge.
“You shouldn’t yank so hard, you’ll get split ends,” a voice said from the doorway.
Eve didn’t look up, just tried harder.
“You know, you did very well for your first solo gig,” Rinslet said.
“I chased the target out a window, through a mire, a chicken coop, three public arenas, and set my hair on fire before landing in a trash heap full of dead fish,” Eve said flatly. “I also blew your cover and got you soaked in sewage and covered with feathers. In fact, I don’t think it could have gone any worse.”
“You got your guy,” Rinslet said firmly. “That's rare for first-timers. I remember my first time …” she trailed off rather nostalgically, then winced in remembrance.
“I know how this is supposed to go,” Eve said emotionlessly. “Now is when you share a heartwarming story about your first gig complete with embarrassing sidenotes and wacky hijinks, before presenting your abysmal experience as an example of why I should be satisfied with my performance.”
“I’ll have you know that there were no wacky hijinks,” Rinslet said rather indignantly. “In fact, everything went smoothly until the end.”
She waited. Eve sighed, and took the bait. “What happened at the end?”
“The diamond I had so painstakingly stolen ended up being pickpocketed by some other thief on my way out,” Rinslet said with relish.
This caught Eve’s sattention. She put down the brush and actually turned around to face Rinslet. “That’s so embarrassing!”
“Thanks a lot,” Rinslet said dryly. “I was so caught up in elation that I’d run my first solo gig, I didn’t even notice the diamond was gone until I was back in my room. Certainly not one of my finer performances.”
“At least you didn’t set your hair on fire,” Eve made a face, and went back to working at her hair.
“Oh, don’t be a big baby,” Rinslet said. “Didn’t your nanomachines fix your hair completely?” She stepped behind Eve and sighed. “Give me that brush.”
Eve did as she said, and Rinslet began brushing through her hair, beginning with the tips and working up.
“Do you not brush your hair very often or something?” Rinslet asked. “You’re doing it all wrong. The harder you yank, the worse the knot gets. Is it that you rely on your nanomachines to fix your hair most of the time, or does the yanking actually work, normally?”
“Most days I don’t have knots,” Eve said, “and the nanomachines take care of the rest.”
“You should brush your hair a hundred strokes each night if you can,” Rinslet advised. “It’s a very meditative practice.” Slowly the knot began to loosen. “You know I’m not saying you should be satisfied with your performance. You should always be working to improve, plus I’m hoping the satisfactory performances in your future won’t involve me being tarred and feathered. I’m just letting you know it wasn’t as bad as you think.”
“They laughed at me at the police station,” Eve said.
“Trust me, being a laughingstock because of professional failure is far worse than just appearing ridiculous,” Rinslet said. “There, all done.” She met Eve’s gaze in the mirror. “It’s like combing through knots. The harder you try and the angrier you get, the worse it’ll be. You have to be patient.”
“I suppose,” Eve sighed.
“Now why don’t you go downstairs and see if your daddies will buy you a nice cake to make up for your bad day, hm?”
“They’re not my daddies,” Eve said, but she stood up anyways.
Rinslet slung her arm around Eve’s shoulder and began walking her downstairs. “Close enough. Now, what’s the best way to avenge ourselves?”
“Avenge ourselves?” Eve asked, curious.
“They laughed at us in our misery. We have to get back at them somehow,” Rinslet mused. “I’m thinking spiders.”
“I think there should be feathers,” Eve said gravely.
Fin
