by Prometheus
"Damn, man," Danny Hearn said, "why aren't you coming with us?"
Sam Dawson sighed, rubbing his somewhat-tense neck as the two made their way down the hallway toward the elevator. "I don't know. Just don't have my heart into it right now, you know?" he tried to explain.
Danny shook his head. "Well, it's not like I really want to do it, either," Danny replied, "but it is our job."
Sam frowned. "No, it's not! It's not like we have a responsibility to the rest of the world," he replied with a hint of irritation. "I mean, have you forgotten what this century is like? They don't like us out there, man. They don't want us."
Danny held his hands up in a surrendering position. "Hey, you're preaching to the choir, here! I know all this!" he exclaimed. "But, I mean, we stay here... eat the food... get paid... it's a job. If a few people get saved along the way, what's the harm in that?"
"Nothing!" Sam stopped just in front of the elevator, hitting the button. "You're misunderstanding me! I'm all for a positive effect on the world. God knows they need it. But after all we've sacrificed... to have them STILL hate us."
"Fear us."
"What?"
"Fear. They fear us. That's where the hate comes from."
"WHATEVER!" Sam exclaimed. "What I'm saying is that if I don't feel like risking my neck for once to help their ungrateful asses out... if I need a bit of rest... then why not let somebody else take care of them for awhile, you know?"
Danny sneered a bit, turning fully to face him, held his hand out in a greeting. "Hi, asshole, I'm somebody else," he drolled.
Sam just rolled his eyes. "I have NO idea why I'm having this conversation with you," he sighed.
Danny studied him for a moment, then turned back toward the elevator. "It's what you get for those fucking fish sticks," he replied quietly.
There was a brief pause as the two said nothing.
Sam muttered, "Bite me."
Danny replied, "Tool."
Both began cracking up with bouts of sighing laughter.
"There."
Danny's head jerked back a bit as he heard the voice of Hal, his second brain. What?
"To your immediate left. Look."
Danny slowly turned his head to the left, staring down an empty hallway. What? I don't see anything.
"The same man from the kitchen is staring at you."
AGAIN with this?
"Take three steps to the left, and reach out quickly."
Hal...
"Take three steps to the left, an--"
OKAY, okay... Danny slowly stepped, as nonchalantly as possible, three steps over, reaching his hands slowly up into a fake yawn. Then, as quick as possible, he snapped his hand out into the air.
"AAAHHHH!" Danny yelled, jumping back with a start.
"WHAT?!" Sam yelped, Danny jerking him around with wide eyes.
His eyes darted around the empty hallway, an almost terrified look about him, trying to find the cause of Danny's wide-eyed stare.
"WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?" Danny yelled out loud at Hal.
"He stepped back from you. You barely touched his garment."
"Danny?!" Sam asked, still trying to find what Danny was staring at. "What the fuck's wrong, man?"
The elevator finally arrived, the doors beginning to open with a ding.
"He's stepping towards the elevator. He knows you're detecting him."
Danny immediately pushed Sam out of the way, jumping in front of the lift doors, trying to block them.
"Dammit, Danny! What the hell--"
"A GUY!" he stammered. "There's something here with us! Shit! I felt it! There's someone here!"
Sam's eyes narrowed. "Where?!"
"I don't know! Hal can see him, though!" he replied.
Sam spun around toward the intercom panel on the wall, slamming the button. "Everyone converge on the main elevator hub. We have an intruder in the building."
"YOU HEAR THAT?" Danny yelled. "I CAN SEE YOU!" Is he still here? What's he doing?
"He is standing directly in front of you. He seems to be contemplating a course of action."
"We don't want any trouble," Sam said aloud.
"As do I."
Sam lurched as he realized that, merely seconds ago where there had been nothing but air, a tall, bald man, cloaked in a gray robe, now stood before him. Danny, so tense, merely lost his balance, falling back into the elevator at the appearance.
"Who are you?" Sam began, cautiously.
"My name is--" He paused, casually holding his flat palm up to his right, perfectly catching a fist flying at nearly fifty-six miles per hour.
"Whoa!" Tobias Christopher exclaimed, suddenly standing there, his fist being held by the strange man.
"--Turkish Stringfellow," he continued. Then, with a bowing glance toward the speedster, he released the fist. Tobias backed away a bit, still somewhat shocked.
"Well, Mr. Stringfellow, tell me one good reason why I shouldn't have you arrested for breaking and entering, eh?" Kit Piper suddenly announced, walking up. Behind him, Pete Glover, Mick Harrison, and Lance Lorenzo all followed, coming from the stairwell.
"Dude!" Lance began. "They can see him!"
"Yeah, Kit!" Mick glared at the man. "I thought you said you were going to throw our roots away!"
"Hogging them all for themselves, more likely," Lance continued.
"We would've shared..." Mick said, shrugging.
"QUIET!" Kit barked, his hands on his hips, still staring at the large enigma before him. "Well?"
"Sir," Turkish replied with a tone of respect, his hands folded under his robes, "I am in need of your services."
"Then make an appointment like everyone else," he responded curtly. "We're already on a case... one that is paying more than what it looks like you can offer."
Turkish shrugged. "I... have no means of payment..."
"I thought so," Kit sighed. He turned toward the communicator, leaning into the speaker. "Shirley, call the authorities."
"...but, perhaps, in exchange for your assistance, I can perform needed tasks?"
Kit stopped suddenly. He slowly turned toward the man, curious. "Services?" he asked.
"Yes." Turkish nodded. "It appears to me that each of you have specific... talents, shall we say."
Kit released the comm button, turning fully toward the man. "Annnnd... you have... ummm... talents... yourself?"
Turkish paused for a moment, then turned toward the far wall. "If you don't mind?" he asked.
"Mind?" Kit responded. He looked at the same wall, and then back to Turkish. "Mind what?"
Turkish glanced a neo-purple eye his way, a devilish smile on his face. "I was not talking to you."
Suddenly, the wall began to vibrate. Then, with a slick, wet sound, the entire complete first layer of paint separated from the wall, floating out like a liquid sheet.
Sam's jaw dropped.
Then the second layer repeated the action.
Mick and Lance grinned. "Coooooool," they said in unison.
The solid bricks of the wall began to move as well. Separating with a sound of granite on granite, large blocks released themselves, floating a few inches out from the moorings of the iron cast metal underframe of the building.
Kit Piper stood, his eyes gleaming with amazement as the wall sat in its component parts, floating in the air before him.
"Talents such as these, perhaps?" Turkish asked.
Kit just nodded, still dumbfounded.
Turkish looked back toward the parts, nodding his head. "Thank you." The wall immediately resealed itself as if it had never happened in the first place.
Mick and Lance broke out into applause. "You are the coolest hallucination we've EVER had, man!" Mick exclaimed, shaking his hand.
"Do me next! Do me!" Lance waved his hands in the air.
"Kit, I have the authorities on the line. Do you want to talk to--"
"Cancel that, Shirley," he quickly said into the comm.
Kit Piper gained a very naughty grin on his face, pushing through the pair, walking up to Stringfellow with dollar signs in his eyes and an outstretched hand.
"Stringfellow, was it?" he began, grasping the man's hand. "Welcome to MBL Consulting."