Post by Jordanna on Mar 17, 2006 23:17:29 GMT -5
On her second full day of exile at the Rosensteins' house, Miriam woke to a medley of rich fragrances drifting in from the kitchen. The sky outside the windows was just beginning to lighten. With a weary sigh, she pulled on a robe over her long nightgown, and shuffled into the kitchen.
Alex smiled at her from his habitual post by the stove. "Hello there."
"Mmph. Hi." Miriam settled herself on a barstool, rubbing her eyes.
"Still not sleeping well?" Alex asked concernedly.
Miriam shook her head. "Not really, but it's getting better. Part of me still feels a little wired, but the rest of me..." She made a face and shrugged. "Apparently there's a price to pay for every part of my powers."
The young entertainer let that pass without comment, setting a glass of orange juice in front of her. She sipped it gratefully, wincing as her half-awake senses met the tartness of it.
Sid lumbered into the kitchen, with the mildly dazed expression that had become typical of him since Caroline's death. "Hi, folks."
"Morning, Sid." Alex proceeded to flip the hash browns over which he was lovingly laboring.
"I peeked in on Tara," Sid murmured, taking a seat opposite Miriam. "She played possum, but she's awake. I hope she comes down today." His older daughter had remained in her room the previous day, anguished and self-conscious over her newly developed gills.
"She has to," Alex mused. "The kids go back to school day after tomorrow. She's gotta get on with life. When I'm done here, I'll go up and try to talk her into coming down for breakfast."
Next to join the assemblage was Consuela, wrapped in her worn blue bathrobe and carrying the morning's newspaper. There was a surprisingly intent look on her face as she held the paper out to Miriam.
"Doctor Van Linden, have you seen this?"
Miriam took the paper and looked down at it--and her expression grew dark and perplexed. She glanced back and forth between Alex and Sid, then read aloud the pertinent item of news.
"Pro-mutant philanthropist Nicholas Tiernan has issued a press release calling for "morgue murder" suspect Dr. Miriam Van Linden to give herself up. He states that he does not believe Van Linden is guilty, and promises that if she will turn herself in to him personally at the offices of Tiernan Enterprises, his own attorneys will give her the best legal defense money can buy."
Sid blinked, and Alex let out a long, low whistle.
"You see?" Consuela piped up. "If this man will help you, why should you not go to him, and explain how you are not guilty?"
A moment of thunderstruck silence followed.
"Ookay... You know what, Connie?" Alex removed his hash browns from the burner and took the maid by the arm, steering her toward the living room and the library beyond it. "I think you'd better know the rest of the story, before you get us all killed."
"The rest?" Consuela's bewildered voice receded from the kitchen as he towed her along. "What rest? The Señora murdered, and a woman hiding here from the police, and now poor Señorita Tara turning into a sirena--how much worse could there be?"
The closing click of the library door mercifully cut off Alex's response.
Sid looked dolefully at Miriam, and nodded to the paper. "Well, whadaya think of that?"
"I don't know." Miriam looked down at the small article that had yielded the bombshell. "There's no way Tiernan can expect me to come waltzing into his parlor. It's probably just one more opportunity to score P.R. points with all the mutants who think he's their Uncle Pockets."
"He doesn't miss a trick," Sid agreed bitterly. "I hope this priest Daws was talking about can score some points on our side."
"Count on Daws." Miriam squeezed Sid's shoulder. Then she glanced uncertainly in the direction Alex and the maid had gone. "I suppose Consuela's got a right to know the truth--just being around us is getting dangerous. But do you think we can trust her?"
"Yeah, I think so. She don't like it to show, but she's pretty devoted to the kids and me. Even if she does decide she can't take it, she won't talk." Sid shrugged ruefully. "She'd probably be better off leaving, anyway."
Miriam could only answer that with a regretful silence.
Alex smiled at her from his habitual post by the stove. "Hello there."
"Mmph. Hi." Miriam settled herself on a barstool, rubbing her eyes.
"Still not sleeping well?" Alex asked concernedly.
Miriam shook her head. "Not really, but it's getting better. Part of me still feels a little wired, but the rest of me..." She made a face and shrugged. "Apparently there's a price to pay for every part of my powers."
The young entertainer let that pass without comment, setting a glass of orange juice in front of her. She sipped it gratefully, wincing as her half-awake senses met the tartness of it.
Sid lumbered into the kitchen, with the mildly dazed expression that had become typical of him since Caroline's death. "Hi, folks."
"Morning, Sid." Alex proceeded to flip the hash browns over which he was lovingly laboring.
"I peeked in on Tara," Sid murmured, taking a seat opposite Miriam. "She played possum, but she's awake. I hope she comes down today." His older daughter had remained in her room the previous day, anguished and self-conscious over her newly developed gills.
"She has to," Alex mused. "The kids go back to school day after tomorrow. She's gotta get on with life. When I'm done here, I'll go up and try to talk her into coming down for breakfast."
Next to join the assemblage was Consuela, wrapped in her worn blue bathrobe and carrying the morning's newspaper. There was a surprisingly intent look on her face as she held the paper out to Miriam.
"Doctor Van Linden, have you seen this?"
Miriam took the paper and looked down at it--and her expression grew dark and perplexed. She glanced back and forth between Alex and Sid, then read aloud the pertinent item of news.
"Pro-mutant philanthropist Nicholas Tiernan has issued a press release calling for "morgue murder" suspect Dr. Miriam Van Linden to give herself up. He states that he does not believe Van Linden is guilty, and promises that if she will turn herself in to him personally at the offices of Tiernan Enterprises, his own attorneys will give her the best legal defense money can buy."
Sid blinked, and Alex let out a long, low whistle.
"You see?" Consuela piped up. "If this man will help you, why should you not go to him, and explain how you are not guilty?"
A moment of thunderstruck silence followed.
"Ookay... You know what, Connie?" Alex removed his hash browns from the burner and took the maid by the arm, steering her toward the living room and the library beyond it. "I think you'd better know the rest of the story, before you get us all killed."
"The rest?" Consuela's bewildered voice receded from the kitchen as he towed her along. "What rest? The Señora murdered, and a woman hiding here from the police, and now poor Señorita Tara turning into a sirena--how much worse could there be?"
The closing click of the library door mercifully cut off Alex's response.
Sid looked dolefully at Miriam, and nodded to the paper. "Well, whadaya think of that?"
"I don't know." Miriam looked down at the small article that had yielded the bombshell. "There's no way Tiernan can expect me to come waltzing into his parlor. It's probably just one more opportunity to score P.R. points with all the mutants who think he's their Uncle Pockets."
"He doesn't miss a trick," Sid agreed bitterly. "I hope this priest Daws was talking about can score some points on our side."
"Count on Daws." Miriam squeezed Sid's shoulder. Then she glanced uncertainly in the direction Alex and the maid had gone. "I suppose Consuela's got a right to know the truth--just being around us is getting dangerous. But do you think we can trust her?"
"Yeah, I think so. She don't like it to show, but she's pretty devoted to the kids and me. Even if she does decide she can't take it, she won't talk." Sid shrugged ruefully. "She'd probably be better off leaving, anyway."
Miriam could only answer that with a regretful silence.