From rhonilak@icontech.com Wed May 21 17:18:19 1997 Subject: Out Of Frame II: Connected (1/1) From: Rhondda Lake -------- Disclaimer: Go find another fanfic. Find their disclaimer and cut and paste it here. Rating: PG Classification: V, A - post "Zero Sum" Summary: People are connected in the strangest ways. Often without realizing it. A post Zero Sum story. Out of Frame II: Connected by Rhondda Lake The day was miserable. Mai sat in a booth at her favorite diner and sipped her tea in the hopes that it's heat would warm her from the inside out. It wasn't working too well. She ran her hand over the portfolio sharing the seat with her. Inside was some of her best work. She'd finally gotten away from the contract she'd worked under for the last two years. At first making a reliable living painting book covers seemed wonderful. Doing what she loved, full time, and a check every week. But after the fiftieth painting of a man and woman in a passionate embrace it became staid. Stagnant. The characters she was asked to paint were unrealistic. Their passions feigned. She ended up feeling like she was the prize attraction at a bordello. But as of last week, no more bodice rippers for her. She had done a series of dark, surreal paintings tapping into the horror of mankind. And she just got a deal with a very prevelent horror publisher. She'd passed on lunch with her agent, just as she'd passed on lunch with her husband. Someone else needed her now, wheather they knew it or not. Mai looked up as someone slid into the seat across from her. She smiled and shook her head. "Can I buy the most beautiful woman in here some lunch?" Tall and lean he was as handsome a man as she'd ever met. She reached across the table and lightly tugged at his beard. "Scamp. I told you I was going to eat with Uncle. I promise you a dinner you won't forget tonight." Byers' smile was soft as he took her hand in his, drawing circles with his thumb on the olive skin. "I'll hold you to that. I just stopped to see how you were doing. The interview..." "I got the job. No more having our living room look like a whorehouse. Now it'll look like a chamber of horrors." She winked. "Hey, I liked the research you needed to do. What was it... positional probabilities?" The gleam in his eyes sparked an answering one in hers. "We can still do that kind of research." Mai looked up and frowned. Uncle was here. He looked as if he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. She squeezed her husband's hand, the look in her eyes told him to go. The two men in her life tolerated each other. But her husband completely distrusted the government... and her Uncle WAS the government. For her sake they were civil to one another. Byers turned in his seat and saw the grim faced man making his way to the table. He nodded to Mai and got up just as Mai's Uncle arrived. "Walt." Byers inclined his head to the older man then turned to Mai. "I'll see you at home." When he was gone Mai faced her Uncle. When Mai's parents had been married Uncle had stood as her father's best man. Taking no chances, her father, a private in the Marine Corps, had made sure every piece of paperwork had been properly filed, and they'd been married before a U.S. Chaplin. Her father died in an ambush a month later. He never saw his daughter. The only survivor of that mbush had been her Uncle. Even though he'd been sent home, he had gone out of his way to make arrangements for Mai and her mother. Sending money and bribes to get them to the US. To her father's family, who accepted them despite the fact they were virtual strangers. Uncle had always watched over Mai. She heard the stories a million times. And she knew half the reason he had stayed in touch was survivor guilt. "I got the job." She decided to start on a bit of good news. A small, almost smile. "I knew you could do it." "Small talk's over, what's wrong?" Mai accepted the menu the waitress handed to her. "What makes you think something's wrong?" "You been eating limes, rind and all? You constipated for a week? No? Well then something is wrong. I know you, Uncle Walter. You can hide from most people, but if anyone taught me to look beneath the masks it was you." Uncle made a production out of perusing the menu. "Nothing's wrong." "Liar. I'm not asking for state secrets here. You just... it's like you're being crushed under an invisible weight. I can't just sit back and ignore it." Uncle pinched the bridge of his nose, under his glasses. "Have you ever been disgusted with yourself?" "Many times. I have a feeling you are going through something far worse then anything I've had to contend with." Mai placed her order and waited for Uncle to place his. He looked tired, and did not speak again until the waitress was long gone. "I pray you never face this kind of self-loathing. It isn't comfortable." "Uncle, you are an honorable man. You always have been. Honor is as much a part of you as... not having any hair." Mai smiled impudently but it faded when no answering smile greeted her. "Maybe I sold my honor, for an impossable promise... a pipe dream..." Mai shook her head. "You would never sell your honor. You might misplace it for a while, but it will always come back to you. You have never done anything without good reason. And I do mean GOOD reason. If you thought promises were empty, you would never make a deal." Mai placed her small, dark hand over her Uncle's larger, paler one. "You are a good person, Uncle. If you were not... whatever is bothering you would not. You would be bothered by nothing. I won't pretend to know what's going on. But know this. I trust you. I believe in you." Walter Skinner squeezed her hand. "There are times I wish you were mine." "Ha! Mom would never put up with you. No sense of humor. She's convinced if you ever laughed your head would explode. Come on, let's eat. I'll even share some of my honey dipped chicken..." He made a pinched face. "Um... I don't think I'll be able to face honey for a very long time." end... Feedback welcome.