by Danny and TheTimeTrust
Danny Hearn stood outside the door of the washroom, leaning against the wall. He heard a flush. He heard the sound of the tap running. Well, at least he knew he washed his hands. The door swung open, and out stepped Dirk Bell.
"Hey."
"Danny. It's all yours," came the reply. Dirk kept walking, until Danny placed a hand on his chest.
"Somethin' I can help you with there?" Dirk said.
"We have to talk."
"Right..."
"Who are you?"
"Dirk. We've met already. What, you get knocked on the head, too?" Dirk said, gesturing toward the bandages wrapped around Danny's midsection.
"That's not what I meant," Danny replied. "Where are you from?"
"Well, my mommy and my daddy did a special dance one night..."
"Seriously. We don't have the first clue as to where you're from or what you're doing here, Dirk."
"Right..."
"I'm not saying it has to be right now. I understand if it's... complicated. Hell, I know all about messed-up origins. I'm from the fucking future. But, sooner or later, you're going to have to spill your guts."
"I know..."
"I really can't be bothered playing interrogator right now. So I'll drop it here. Just remember: the key word around this place is trust. This mysterious origin crap is getting old."
"Yeah..."
"It's not that I don't like you. It's just that... in this line of business, we have to know the people we're trusting with our lives. Now, I have to take a piss on one of these ancient fucking toilets. I tell you, you take an automatic flush feature completely for granted until you don't have it any more," Danny said, and disappeared into the washroom.
Chance was just walking by, deep in thought and puzzled over his last two conversations, when he saw Danny exit the toilet (or washroom or bathroom, as the Americans called it). He wore a half-genuine smile and said, "Hey Danny. How are you doing?"
"I'm fine," said Danny, who felt a bit of deja vu suddenly. "Uh, how are you?"
"I'm good. Good. Uh... Adjusting all right to the early twenty-first century?"
"Look, Chance, or Kristofer, or Schanz, or whatever you wish to be called... get to the point. You want to ask me whether I've noticed anything strange lately, why people are treating you like a stranger, and why things seem slightly different than you're used to. Well? Am I right?"
Chance nodded, feeling slightly vindicated. "So you've noticed it, then, too?"
Danny closed his eyes and shook his head, rubbing the morning drowsiness from his face. He had mixed feelings about Mick and Shirley's engagement and Tobias and Lance's leave of absence. Those announcements, combined with the sudden influx of new members into the team and the disappearances of Pete and Naecken in the Castle, were a few too many changes for his liking right now. He felt extremely stressed out.
"I don't think -- I can't help you, Chance. Talk to Dr. Quantos. He'll be able to straighten you all out. Sorry. I just don't have the patience right now to stand here and try to explain things to you when I have little idea myself of what's happened with you and Pete. Just... just talk to the Doc."
Chance frowned and smiled, nodding at the advice. "Thanks, Daniel."
"It's--"
"Danny. Yes, I remember," said Chance, still smiling that friendly smile although inside he still felt numb. "Old habits die hard, I guess."
"I guess..."