Stainless Steel Angel

[jwhouk]

And, as our header to the story (Font is called "Rustproof Body"):

[Sgt. Howard]

And, as our header to the story (Font is called "Rustproof Body"):

But is it impervious to bodily secretions?

[Dave]

And, as our header to the story (Font is called "Rustproof Body"):

But is it impervious to bodily secretions?

Whose?

[Sgt. Howard]

And, as our header to the story (Font is called "Rustproof Body"):

But is it impervious to bodily secretions?

Whose?

... is THAT where lime jello comes from?

[DinkyInky]

But is it impervious to bodily secretions?

Whose?

... is THAT where green jello comes from?

Naw, it comes from ground up ail-yuns, donchaknow.

[FreeFlier]

But is it impervious to bodily secretions?

Whose?

... is THAT where green jello comes from?

Naw, it comes from ground up ail-yuns, donchknow.

Solvent Green is aliens?

/flrrd/

--FreeFlier

[Just Old Al]

Solvent Green is aliens?

/flrrd/

--FreeFlier

I think you were trying for Soylent Green...but that's peeple.

[jwhouk]

---

The routine was starting to come together as the winter days dragged on: in the morning, Ari would work on incoming invoices and MIB paperwork that needed to get done up in the office on her secured workstation. Then, around 9 o'clock, she would descend to the locker room and change into her coveralls - and get to working on whatever needed to be done on the car that day.

That would last until about two, when the afternoon break time came around. She'd then do some work on the shop side, and check for anything new on issues or parts that were needed for the shop. Sometimes, she would use the laptop that had been setup for diagnostics in the service bays as her access point. She had even set up a single-click access point that would allow her to call up the head mechanic at DMC Humble if she had a particular question about a part. The guys in Texas were actually loving the updates on the rebuild, as they were already finishing up the process of making their limited-run vehicles under the Low Volume Vehicle Manufacturing Act - and every last issue she was presenting was helping them in their rebuilds.

One morning, just before she was about to go down to the shop floor, the mail showed up - with a single padded envelope. The return address was 15023 Eddie Drive, Humble, Texas - the DMC Headquarters in Houston. Opening the envelope, she found two small plastic bags enclosed: a pair of red tags attached to a key ring, with a clip on the end. They both had the Delorean logo on the one side and - to Ari's chagrin - the words, "REMOVE BEFORE FLIGHT" on the other.

There was a letter enclosed - and another paper envelope. The letter was on DMC stationery; it was from Stephen Wynne, thanking her for the help she was providing for them - as much as they were helping her and Al. The keychains had a dual use, he said; "We use them on the corners of the open gullwing doors at car shows to help people keep from banging their heads!"

The other envelope was a "gift from our marketing department. Feel free to use it when the time is right."

She opened it, and found a 50-cent piece, from the year 1983. It didn't hit her at first what the significance of the coin was... until she remembered the video she'd seen on the company website.

She chuckled and put it in her desk drawer, taking the two tags along with her down to the shop.

[FreeFlier]

Solvent Green is aliens?

/flrrd/

I think you were trying for Soylent Green...but that's peeple.

I couldn't think of a word for alien that started with a p.

And I forgot to feed the pun jar. /deposits a copy of Ten Commandments in the pun jar/

/Adds an NRA pin/

--FreeFlier

[Sgt. Howard]

Solvent Green is aliens?

/flrrd/

I think you were trying for Soylent Green...but that's peeple.

I couldn't think of a word for alien that started with a p.

And I forgot to feed the pun jar. /deposits a copy of Ten Commandments in the pun jar/

/Adds an NRA pin/

--FreeFlier

President?

[Warrl]

Solvent Green is aliens?

/flrrd/

--FreeFlier

I think you were trying for Soylent Green...but that's peeple.

Think about it a bit more, Al; I'm pretty sure the "solvent" was deliberate...

[strikeout]... and this jar over here tapping its lid appears to agree with me.[/strikeout]

edit: jar is now satisfied

[FreeFlier]

. . .

. . .

. . .

I actually have to explain a pun?

Here?

. . .

(look at who starring in both of those movies . . .)

--FreeFlier

[Just Old Al]

Charlton Heston is an alien? Who knew?

[AmriloJim]

For those who didn't get it, may I suggest some non-toxic brain bleach?

[DinkyInky]

For those who didn't get it, may I suggest some non-toxic brain bleach?

*eyeroll*

[Just Old Al]

AN: THis is a little...dark...be warned.

Well, he couldn’t avoid it any more. Ari had been asking him what he thought of the contents of the notebook, and Al had been avoiding looking at it. It wasn’t that he didn’t think it was relevant, or that it wouldn’t present useful intelligence…it just felt…wrong.

Over the past year and a fraction, his life had changed completely. Going from a solitary creature, affable, friendly but holding the world at bay as he wound down his involvement in it, to being in the middle of a vital, beautiful family with a dizzying, wonderful involvement with the family’s matriarch – and it really wasn’t his family to have.

It was HIS family – the owner of this notebook. Rock Alexander – the patriarch.

Rock was gone – no doubt of it – but there were depressing days when he felt like Rock was waiting to come back – and he’d be out again. He had his business, his work, good friends and many acquaintances on every continent and in nearly every country – but that would no longer be enough. What was seen could not be unseen – and what was experienced could not be forgotten. Love is the strongest part of it – which could never be forgotten.

Al picked up the phone on his desk and pressed the first speed-dial.

“Hi, Al! What’s up, dear?” Daisy’s voice, cheerful as she went about her work, rang in his ear.

“Do you love me?”

“What the hell kind of a godsdamned stupid question is that? I love you – of course I do.” Her voice, bright and irritated, darkened in a moment. “What the hades is wrong? Al, talk to me.”

“You‘re going to get angry.”

“I won’t.”

“I have Rock’s notebook on the DeLorean project in front of me. I can’t look at it – every time I see it I feel like he’s just waiting to come back – and I’ll be out in the cold again.”

The phone was silent for several seconds. “I’m on my way out. Make yourself a cup of coffee and don’t touch that Godsdamned notebook. Go work in the shop, go shoot on the range, do anything you want – leave that book right where it is.” The phone clicked.


Al and Daisy sat on the couch in the office – Wing and the mechanics had been warned to stay well away on dire threats of violence by Daisy.

The book sat on the coffee table – between them emotionally if not physically.
“Daisy, I’m sorry. I know this is foolish, and just plain stupid, and doubts are nonsense – but I can’t fight a ghost. Every time I touch something on that DeLorean, or this notebook – or even see the building here no matter what the sign is on the gate fence – all I can think about is Rock – and that I’m just an interloper.” He held up his hand to forestall the angry rejoinder.

“Let me finish. I know you love me – Gods know you tell me often enough – but there’s nothing I can do about how I feel. The notebook just brought it out, as did this project. It’s the man’s project, not mine. These are HIS notes, and I’m finishing it for HIS son.”

“Buck thinks I was joking about putting it back in the hole and cementing it over – but I wasn’t. I hate that damned thing and everything it stands for. I will do the best job I possibly can for Buck – I love him more than I could if he was my own flesh and blood – but I hate this thing and I wish Ari had never found it.”

Daisy’s expression was wounded – obviously this had never occurred to her as a serious possibility. She looked a bit lost – she had no idea where to go with this – but she had to go somewhere, as leaving this would do nothing but make it worse.

She picked up the notebook, and started to leaf through it. She sniffed, then held the notebook close to her face and inhaled deeply through her nose.

“This thing REEKS of smoke and grease. What a horrible smell. I remember it well – Rock and his damned bacon. This may be why this repelled you – it smells….of him.

There is nothing I can say here to help that I haven’t said before, I think. We accept you, and love you – you are not Rock’s substitute or replacement to be thrown away – you are YOU.

You are the man that I lived next to day after day when the war began – and who I was fascinated by even though you were completely oblivious. Perhaps because of our differences I should have turned away then – but I couldn’t.

You are the man who has become grandfather to our grandchildren, friend to my children, and much to my joy a second love in my life – one I never had a right to have because life never gives second chances.”

She stopped, and took his face in her hand, staring into his eyes. “Are you going to throw this away because of a ghost?”

“No. Never. I will grasp this greedily for every minute left in my life. I cannot help being afraid, though – unreasonable it may be but a real fear it is. I will never mention it again – but it is there.”

“Would it help if I had this useless old pile of scrap metal hauled out of here? Buck can get it fixed –“
“No. That would be unfair to him. He deserves the best I can do – no doubt others could do as well, but he deserves my best – and ghosts or not I cannot do less than my very best for him.”

Daisy’s demeanor changed…she saw she’d been going about this the right way but at the wrong pace – this needed a sharp slap in the head.

“Look, you. Yes, the fear is a real fear – it is however not RATIONAL – and YOU need to realize it.

Rock is gone. I will love him forever, but he is not here and never will be again thanks to his Godsdamned fascination with bacon. That coronary that robbed me of my husband and his children of a father was his own damned fault.

YOU are my husband – here, now and forever more. You are my love, and will be till death parts us and beyond. YOU need to get your head out of your sense of inferiority and stop thinking this is a competition and that you will be replaced.”

Al sat quietly, and Daisy wondered if she’d gone too far.

“You are right. I know he’s not coming back – and second chances go both ways, my love.

There’s only one answer to this – and it’s to lay the ghost to rest once and for all.”

She looked at him, quizzically.

“Richer Engineering is going to build the best damned Delorean ever built – and it’s going to be Buck’s. Once this thing is viable and no longer a relic of sad days the ghost will be gone from it – and I can move ahead.

Don’t say anything to Buck about this – he doesn’t need to know about this. I will survive – stiff upper lip and all that. Now, go on with you and get about your business - I have a notebook to review, and mechanics to direct.”

“No.”

Al was shocked. What did she mean?

“No. You are not going to pull your English stiff-upper-lip minotaur shit on me, shoo me out, and go ache in the corner. Sit with me, and let’s just be together for a while. None of this needs to happen in the next 5 minutes, and you need to heal a bit.”

They sat quietly, together on the couch, the notebook not forgotten but losing its significance.

[Dave]

AN: THis is a little...dark...be warned.

But facing the darkness squarely is often healthier than trying to conceal it or flee from it.

Well written!

[jwhouk]

AN: THis is a little...dark...be warned.

But facing the darkness squarely is often healthier than trying to conceal it or flee from it.

Well written!

What he said.

[ShneekeyTheLost]

AN: THis is a little...dark...be warned.

But facing the darkness squarely is often healthier than trying to conceal it or flee from it.

Well written!

Pip. Pip.

[Sgt. Howard]

AN: THis is a little...dark...be warned.

But facing the darkness squarely is often healthier than trying to conceal it or flee from it.

Well written!

Pip. Pip.

Code: Select all

Better to lance a filthy wound than let it fester