[NaNoWriMo] The Ansiovelle Butlers

[Nevermore]

As the title suggests, this is my NaNoWriMo project. For those of you that don't know what that is, check the sticky. Anyway, this is something that I might actually finish o_O

So, without going into endless exposition, here's the first chapter! Thanks for reading and PLEASE comment :)

*****

The Ansiovelle Butlers
Chapter One: The Job and Its Jacket

Wrap it around twice. Loop it around the back. Pull it through the hole. Cole finished fumbling with the unfamiliar, black tie after a few minor adjustments in the mirror. That tie was the final piece of the ensemble that was his new uniform. Along with the black tie; he wore black shoes, a white shirt, burgundy pants, and burgundy coat. Still starting into the mirror, he tossed his short, black hair a few times before leaving his apartment. Though he wasn't especially well-versed in the workplace, he knew that a good first impression meant a lot.

A small piece of the orange sun peeked over the horizon. It was a little before seven in the morning. His new shoes dug into his ankles as he walked down the small set of concrete stairs to his crotch rocket parked on the side of the street. It's bright-red, metallic paint-job stuck out amongst the dull shades of black that adorned the adjacent cars. He strapped on the helmet that rested securely on the gas tank and straddled himself on. A few cranks of the ignition key later and he was off towards his new job at the Ansiovelle manor.

The name Ansiovelle was plastered all over the news these days. As one of the city's mayoral candidates, the media was digging up every piece of information that they could. The most recent of which was that the man had hired the last of four people to act as caretakers for his four children, and Cole thought it hysterical that he was one of those people. To him, being wrapped up in political affairs was the most ironic thing in the world. According to the rumors, this was because his opposing candidate was a higher-up from the Leovatchi family, formerly the largest crime family in the area. Despite an outward appearance of reformation, Mr. Ansiovelle wasn't ready to trust them completely.

The street lamps still cast their soft glow onto the streets despite the sky growing brighter by the minute. The interplay of artificial light with the sunrise hues gave the streets a twilit ambiance about them. Cole felt this more than he had any other day of his life. Though, for him, this was more like the first day of his new life. Unlike before, this life would have a purpose. This life wouldn't be just another aimless street brawler, making money off of bets. This time, he would do something beneficial.

Minutes later, the manor loomed overhead. If anyone didn't think Mr. Ansiovelle was of a high enough position to be mayor, that thought was crushed by this building. The structure oozed of Elizabethan architecture and flair. Even the usually monotonous brick color seemed to fit into the rest so well. It could only be a mansion passed down through the generations. Cole admired it all as he parked his motorcycle on the side of an discreet driveway to the left of the building, dwarfed by the multiple cars parked on a loop in front of the building itself.

Helmet removed, he secured his motorcycle and swung his leg around. Turning towards the mansion, another man stood in front of him. His dirty blonde hair was swept back, and his arms were crossed as he tapped his foot in rhythmic fashion. This guy wore the same uniform as he did, so Cole figured he was here for the guardian position like him. As much as Cole wanted to get along with this guy, the annoyed look on his face was making it difficult.

Trying to make nice, Cole said, “Hi! I'm here for-”

“You're late,” the other man stated. The irritation in his voice was heavily subdued under a matter-of-fact tone. He walked up to Cole as he continued, “By three minutes. And now, it's four minutes past seven! Not only were you the last to be hired, but you also manage to be the only person who was arrived late. Your mother must be so proud.”

“Nice to meet you too.” The annoyance was becoming mutual. He stuck out his hand to the stranger. “Look, I'd rather not start off on a bad note after having only just gotten here. My name's Cole.”

The man eyed his outstretched hand, as if considering it. After a few moments, he said, “I'm Brigant Semway.” Brigant took Cole's hand and gave it a firm shake. Then, keeping a strong hold, he dragged Cole across the yard and through the front entrance. Once they'd stopped, Cole wrenched his hand free from Brigant's.

“Hey, what's with the pulling?” Cole asked, staring daggers into his assailant.

Brigant's response was short and sweet. “As I said, you're late.”

It was then that Cole noticed the foyer. A gleaming pair of stairs curved upwards to the second floor, which was held by pillars just barely visible behind them. An ornate carpet stretched across the floor. The golden patterns were ablaze atop the crimson setting. Two hallways branched off on the left and right sides of the foyer, though he had no clue as to where they lead.

“Brigant!” cried a high-pitched voice from the direction of the right hallway. Cole turned to see a little girl in a frilly pink dress and long, curled blonde hair running towards the man standing next to him. Her big, toothy grin was impossible to miss. She ran up to him and hung onto his leg. “Guess what!”

“What is it, Lady Lucile?” he asked her, with a distinctly warm essence.

“Father said you could take me shopping after lunch!” Cole didn't think that she could have masked the excitement in her voice even if she needed to.

In a pitiful attempt to match her bright smile with a half-hearted version, Brigant replied, “Did he? That's just great! I'm looking forward to it. Now go play with Lady Emma while I take this Hell's Angels wannabe to your dad.”

Somewhat disheartened, she answered, “All right. Don't forget!” Lucile turned to Cole, staring a brand new set of daggers into Brigant's head. With a sight, she said, “I feel sorry for you!” Then, she darted up the stairs on the right.

Watching her leave, Cole asked, “What was that about?”

“Nothing much,” came Brigant's response, the impatient tone returning. “Her and Master Aden don't get along too well.”

“Aden?”

“Your charge.”

“My what?”

Grabbing his arm, Brigant said, “Just follow me!”

He pulled him up the left stairwell. Despite his lean build, Brigant was pretty strong. Upstairs, a walkway led to two hallways on opposite sides of the indoor balcony. Dragging him into the left one, they marched pass a series of doors, one of which burst open in front of them. A small, spectacled kid, whose short, brown hair suffered from a bad case of bed-head, cradled some sort of device as he shuffled past them. A second later, another person left the room, wearing the uniform. His hair was dyed an unusual light blue and also wore a pair of glasses, though his were a bit larger. He looked to be quite a bit younger than he or Brigant, but that could just have been due to his height, or lack thereof. Cole and Brigant kept to the side to let him pass.

Once he had gone by, Brigant called to him, “Hey, Richard! If you keep pissing Master Charles off like this, this job will only get tougher.”

Shouting over his shoulders, Richard responded, “But he's wrong! He forgot a key variable in his design, and I won't be held responsible because of his miscalculations!”

“I'm not wrong!” Charles shouted at him. His voice was shockingly deep for someone who looked so young. Richard's disgruntled response trailed off as they went further down the hallway, towards the foyer.

“Well, that was a fun diversion.” said Brigant. Regaining his firm grip on Cole, they continued down the hallway. At its end, Brigant led him through a door with another set of stairs behind it. As expected, these curved back to the right as they ascended. At the top was another balcony. Cole glanced over, saw the foyer, and immediately wished he hadn't done that. Brigant yanked him back towards him and they stood in front of a pair of twin doors. He wrapped on the door a few times and waited for an answer. That answer came in short order.

“Yes?”

Brigant said, “Lord Ansiovelle, I've brought Mr. Cole with me.” Hearing the title coming from his mouth only made Cole madder.

“Very good. Come on in.”

Brigant pushed the doors open and they stepped through to Mr. Ansiovelle's study. At least, Cole assumed it was a study. Books lined three of the walls, leaving bare only the wall containing the entrance. Though, it must have also doubled as his office. A simple desk sat towards the back wall, a pair of green, high-back chairs in front. On the desk sat various pieces of paper, as well as a laptop on one corner, and a lamp on the other. In the center, towards the front, a brass stand that read “Rolland Ansiovelle” made its perch. Past the far side of the desk sat the man himself. He held himself in a regal manner, and his rich copper hair was well-groomed. An aura of importance and influence seeped out from every pore on his body, and his deep-set eyes only enhanced the image. This was the man that Cole was now employed too, the man that brought him out of the repetitive misery that he had known before. A caring smile spread across Mr. Ansiovelle's face.

“Nice to see you again, Cole”

Happy to see him again, Cole sincerely replied, “Good to see you too, sir.”

A tiny head peaked out from one of the green chairs. It was a young boy with hair so light in color that beige was the only thing that Cole could think of to suit it. The boy fixated his eyes on Cole, looking him up and down. Cole knew when he was being judged, and he didn't like it one bit, no matter how young the judge was.

Interrupting the boy's important inspection, he said, “Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot to introduce you. Cole, this is my youngest son, Aden. From today on, you'll be watching over him.”

As they boy continued his incessant staring, Cole's old life didn't seem so bad. Still, he needed this new start and gave a reply, mimicking Brigant's method of address. “Yes, Lord Ansiovelle.”

The smile never left his face as he said, “Good! Now that that's settled, you can get to work. Tomorrow, you can go get your stuff if you haven't already.”

“My stuff, sir?”

“Yes, you'll be moving in here. Didn't you know? You'll be bunking in the same room as Brigant here.” The surprise in his Cole's eyes was equally matched by the surprise in Brigant's.

“But Lord Ansiovelle,” Brigant began, “I told you I'd be fine by myself.” Cole nodded in agreement.

“No, no. That won't do. It's more efficient this way. And don't worry, Richard and Murry have been bunking together with little trouble.”

“That's hardly the point!”

“I've made up my mind.”

With a huff, he turned to leave. As he opened the door, Mr. Ansiovelle said, “Don't forget, Brigant. You're taking Lucile to go shopping after lunch.”

Brigant sighed and answered, “Of course, Lord Ansiovelle.”

“Very good!” Brigant left, leaving the three to their remaining business.

“No good!” proclaimed the young Ansiovelle child to his father.

Surprised at the outburst, Rolland asked, “What do you mean, Aden?”

He pointed towards Cole, who was growing more agitated with each word from the boy's mouth, and said, “He looks weak!”

Cole accidentally let go a short huff. The insult was so rare that it was almost humorous for such a little kid to make the accusation. The boy shot a frigid glare into Cole's eyes.

“What was that?” he asked, though the question seemed rhetorical.

“What? It was funny,” Cole responded, a little meaner than he would have preferred.

Aden got up from his seat and stood facing Cole. The two just stood there, staring at each other, waiting for the other to blink fist. Finally, Aden let out a childish “Humpf” and turned away, crossing his arms. Mr. Ansiovelle kept his paternal smile up and walked over to Cole. He gave him two tickets to baseball game. Cole looked at the tickets for a bit, then looked back at Rolland with a puzzled expression.

As if anticipating the question, he answered, “I'd like you to take Aden to the Angels vs. Rangers game today. It starts at ten. I know it's a little early, but the extra time should give you a chance to get to know each other. I'd love to go myself; but with the campaign and everything, I just don't seem to have any time to myself. Consider this your first official duty!”

“Um, sure, all right.” Even as Cole said this, he noticed a look of disappointment in Aden's eyes.

“Good!” Rolland let out a sigh of relief before continuing, “Good. I was hoping that Aden wouldn't miss out because of my responsibilities. Thank you, Cole.” With a slight nudge, he urged Aden over to Cole; and with reluctance, Aden obliged.

Cole glanced from the tickets, to Aden, to Mr. Ansiovelle, and back to Aden. After releasing his own sigh, he pocketed the tickets and beckoned Aden to come with him. The young boy waved back at his father, and Rolland did the same. Watching these two, Cole felt that this job would be more demanding than he had originally though. Still, he welcomed the challenge. Cole knew all too well the effects that depression can take on families, as well as the warning signs. He didn't want to witness that here.

*****

w00t! Chapter one ends! Let me know what you think ;)

[Almagest]

Your imagery really brings this story to life. I love it. And I can see the conflicts building up, even in this first chapter. Keep up the good work.

I think my favorite characters are going to be Richard and Charles =P scientists ;)

[Nevermore]

lol, their bizarre intellectual rivalry is always fun to write, especially given the age difference. Your comment suggests that my pacing is off to a good start, which is something I'm definitely trying to keep in check. I guess we'll see how well that keeps up when I post the next chapter.

Thanks for replying! *gives cookie*

Oh, and to the 28 people that didn't say anything:
COMMENT OR NO COOKIE!!!

[Almagest]

Originally Posted by Nevermore

Your comment suggests that my pacing is off to a good start

Yeah, something like that. I guess I meant that I can already see where this story is heading (or could be heading)--I'm not wondering where the heck this is going. Sometimes, it's good to leave the reader in the dark to build suspense, but people can overdo it and end up losing the reader completely. You didn't do that =) And at the same time, you didn't give too much information. You gave just enough to build the foundation for the rest of the story and maintain the reader's interest.

Thanks for replying! *gives cookie*

Ah! Thank you! *eats cookie*

[Nevermore]

Hey look! Up in the sky! Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No! It's chapter two! Enjoy :D

*****

Chapter Two: Baseball and a Blanket

Morning dew still glistened off the field’s trimmed grass. The VIP room provided the perfect vantage point to enjoy the game as comfortably as possible. A huge, fifty-two inch flat screen monitor was situated on the side, streaming the live feed from the cameras. Being a local politician had its perks. Both teams had already arrived when they got there, going through their workout routines and taking advantage of the extra practice time. Balls were tossed, caught, and blasted all around the stadium. There were a quite a few people in the stands already. Odds are these were the people who knew how hectic it could get around game time.

Aden sat on a cushioned seat overlooking the field; though he was too busy watching his own swinging feet to pay attention to the teams. The boy’s wish for his father was as clear as the time of day. Cole looked over at him for brief moment, and then turned back to the teams’ workout. He twiddled his thumbs as he wondered how to break the silence and tension. If nothing else, he wanted to get Aden engaged in the game. Maybe that would help take his mind off his troubles.

“So,” he began, “Who do you think will win?”

“The Angels,” Aden answered. There was no apparent change in his demeanor.

“What makes you say that?” Although his main purpose was to keep the conversation going, he was a Rangers fan at heart.

“The Rangers suck.” Once again, there was no change in demeanor.

“Oh, come on!” Cole did his best to imitate the smile that Brigant used with Lucile. “They haven’t been doing that bad over the years.”

“No, they suck.” Aden stopped swinging his legs and brought them up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them.

A knock on the door distracted Cole from his feeling of failure. Without waiting for a response, the stadium’s owner came in with bright and cheery expression. The overweight man seemed out of breath. He must have been in a rush for some reason. He quickly rounded the room towards Cole, who stood up to greet him. The owner snatched his hand and shook it. The man’s excitement was unreal.

“Hello! Hello!” The jolly man’s voice shook almost as much as his belly. “You must be Mr. Terran. Mr. Ansiovelle said you’d be here.”

“Yeah, one of the men at the gate let us in.” Cole’s response was calm. It didn’t seem to settle the man down.

“I’m so glad that Mr. Ansiovelle still supports this stadium. I hope he continues to when he becomes mayor!”

“Uh, sure.”

The man turned towards Aden, who hadn’t moved once throughout the entire exchange. “How are you doing today, son? Are you enjoying yourself?”

Aden simply repeated himself. “The Rangers suck.”

The man bellowed with laughter, and Cole wasn’t sure how his clothing contained the bulging mass. “That’s the spirit! Support your home team ‘til the end!” Shifting his eyes back to Cole, he added as he was leaving, “I’ll be going now. People to meet, butts to kiss; you know, the usual.” The image didn’t help Cole at all as he sat back down.

When it was time for the game to start, Aden spirits had lifted a little. Still, he was a bit out of it and disinterested. With a coke in a built-in cup holder, the young boy took a bite out of a muster covered hotdog as a ball was smacked by a bat for the first time today. The ball bounced between first and second base before the latter baseman scooped it up and rocketed it to first. One call later, the Rangers had been given their first out.

Cole shouted through the window, “You idiot! You expect me to believe you can’t run faster than that! Speed it up!”

The next two outs came in rapid succession. One of the batters popped a fly ball to the left side, only to be caught as it came down. The third batter didn’t even hit the ball once before he got out. Sides switched, the Angels’ batter tapped the bat on the ground before taking his stance. On the monitor, Cole and Aden watched as the bat connected to the ball and launched it straight past the pitcher’s left ear. It blew past the second baseman before being snatched by the center fielder who winged it to first base. Unfortunately, he was one second too late. The batter was sitting pretty at first. The next three batters didn't fare as well. Two of them were struck out, and the third was forced out at first. The inning ended with no runs on the board. By the end of the third, it was the still zero to zero.

Cole nudged Aden on the shoulder. “Hey, isn't this exciting?”

“I hate this.” The boy's words rang through his ears.

“What? This is great! I thought you liked baseball.”

“It doesn't matter, Dad doesn't care anyway!” The forced words didn't surprise Cole in the least.

“Come on, of course he does. He's taken you to games before, right?”

“Every time, he gets a call from someone and they start talking about an election or something. He barely watches the game.” Aden looked over towards the front of the stands. “I don't even like sitting up here. I wanna be at the front, outside with everyone else.”

An idea sparked in Cole's mind. It wasn't much. In fact, it was pretty obvious, but that didn't matter. This was the chance he needed to lighten the kid's mood. If he didn't take it now, he'd likely never get the chance again. He walked over to him and put a hand on his shoulder. Aden looked at the hand, then looked up at Cole. Staring through glass and at the stadium, he asked him a question.

“So, you want to be out in the stands, huh?”

- - - - - - - - - -

As crisp as the noon air was, Brigant was having a hard time enjoying it. He was sure that the two bags full of clothes he was carrying was a reason. Each hung on one of his arms by a plastic loop. There were designer labels on the bags, but he really didn't care who was who at this point. The only thing he did was walk behind the ever-bubbly Lucile as she skipped through the area's outdoor mall. The sheer variety of stores made it heaven-on-earth for any materialistic person. Fortunately, at this time of day, it wasn't unbearably crowded.

“Are you almost done, Lady Lucile?” he asked, though he already knew the answer.
“Nuh-uh! There's one more place I wanna see.” The skip in her step remained with each syllable. A certain sing-song quality could be detected as well.

Brigant heaved a sigh of relief. He was glad that she only had one place left to go on her agenda. However, when he saw the name of the store that Lucile entered, he couldn't help but cringe. Not approving of his dawdling, she urged him to follow her. Head hung with shame, he took step after reluctant step into the “Little Princess Boutique.” The inside was as terrifying as he had imagined. All manner of odd, traditional dress hung on multicolor hangers. The level of tackiness surpassed the purchases of lottery winners. He could hardly believe that the store stayed in business. As Lucile walked, she grabbed a select few dresses from the multitude. She entered one of the dressing rooms at the back of the story, and Brigant sat down at one of the nearby benches. He did it not so much out of conscious decision, but out of habit for spending so much time accompanying her from store to store. She stared back at him before shutting the door completely. Her cheeks were rosier than usual.

Feeling more and more awkward with each second, Brigant finally said, “What is it? You need something?”

Staring for a few moments later, she finally blurted out, “Don't peek!” The door slammed shut with a thud.

Brigant shook his head and rested his chin on his left hand, balled into a fist. With his free hand, he took out the dog tag that he wore underneath his shirt. His eyes traced the silver rectangle, reading each line from top to bottom. “Semway.” “Brigant.” “08713556.” “O Negative.” “Protestant.” Between those lines, his past mistakes were forever etched. He wondered what would have happened if he hadn't snapped. These thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the changing room door swinging open. Tucking the dog tag away, hiding away the memories of himself that he hated, he looked at Lucile. She had come out in a summer-yellow dress. As Brigant had learned, she never looked to the seasons for fashion advice. It being Autumn placed no weight on her decision.

She twirled once, letting him see the entirety of the dress. She toyed with her fingers as she asked, “Does this one look good?”

“It looks very good on you.” He said with a smile. It was true, she did look good, for a ten-year-old girl. He payed for the clothes with the money that Rolland had given him and they left the store. They headed to the front parking lot, where the limousine that had taken them there would be waiting. Lucile wore her new dress out of the store. A huge smile was stuck on her face.

- - - - - - - - - -

Cole and Aden cheered over the railing in front of the first row of seats. An Angel's batter was running the bases after a grand slam sent the ball soaring towards the crowd. This put the Angels ahead of the Rangers four to three. At the bottom of the seventh, the pressure was building. Cole was just glad that the pair of twenty's he slipped the usher kept him off their backs.

Aden's mood had made a full one-eighty turn. He whooped and hollered with the people next to him. The success gave Cole a good ego boost. It felt like he'd be able to do this job after all. Though, he still wasn't over his bunking arrangements. A walking vendor approached him, offering up his collection of peanuts, hot dogs, and related condiments. While he waved him away, Cole felt a small draft passing beside him. Had it not been him, he wouldn't have paid any notice, but it was him. That subtle, artificial wind was one that he'd learned from his past. It was moment, quick and focused movement.

He snapped around to see a man carrying Aden away up the stairs. The look on the boy's face suggested that he only just realized what was happening. Cole's instinct kicked in. He snatched a mustard off the vendor's tray and tossed it onto one of the stairs in front of kidnapper, pursuing as he did. The man, dressed in an all Angels attire, planted his foot on the mustard bottled. His foot slipped off the bottle. He fell to left side as the bottle careened into the crowd on the right. The man's grip on Aden loosened from surprise. Cole took the chance and stole the boy away from the man as he kept going up the stairs.

At the top, they ducked into the door to the VIP booth. Cole pressed Aden against the wall next to him while he shouldered the entrance. Just inside, he closed his eyes. Whoever the person was, they belonged to a gang. There were few types of people who would attempt a kidnapping in broad daylight and in a crowded area. A gang member was one of those types. Still, even this was a bit much for a gang member. At the very least, this wasn't last minute. This was planned. Cole waited. He quieted his own breathing and concentrated on the area just outside the door. If the person was willing to do this much, they weren't going to leave it at a failure so easily.

Cole heard the telltale sound of a switchblade opening. His eyes opened, and he waited. Patience was his best friend right now. The tip of the blade peeked out in front of him. He waited. Now, the tip of the thumb was exposed. He waited. Half of the hand revealed itself. He pounced. With one hand he gripped the man's hand. Adjusting his weight, he maneuvered his other hand under the attacker's elbow and snapped it upward. He dropped the knife and clutched his bicep just above the bent up arm. Before the man was even able to give a painful scream, Cole grabbed the man by the collar and pulled him into the room, kicking the door closed with his feet. Still trying to fight, the man brought up his other arm to punch him. In response, Cole slammed the guy's head against his own. Cole gave a sharp kick to the sternum as he staggered backwards, and he fell hard against the flow. In an instant, Cole was on top of him.

“Who are you with?” Cole's voice was tinged with adrenaline-fueled anger.

“I can't believe it,” replied the gangster. His sore laughter was mixed within pained whimpers. “I had heard a rumor about what happened to you, but I can't believe it's true.”

“Who are you with?” Cole repeated. He placed extra emphasis on each word.

“So, this is what's become of Cole “Break-Bone” Terran? Kinda makes me mad that I just got beat up by you.”

Hearing his old nickname pumped more adrenaline into Cole's veins. He lifted his fist and, with sickening force, slammed it against the gangster's face. The bluish-black mark showed up in less than a second, and the unconscious kidnapper just lied there, motionless. Cole's breath came heavy as he regained himself. He looked back to see Aden's horrified face, as well as the faces of countless others huddled by the door. The guards rushed in shortly after, lifting Cole off the man and dragging him away. Aden was allowed to follow them, which he unexpectedly did. Cole wouldn't have noticed if he was there or wasn't, his emotions were racing and only stillness would calm him.

- - - - - - - - - -

Lucile swayed from side to side in her seat. Brigant watched her from the other side of the limousine. Her perky antics were draining, to say the least. He found solace in the unimportant events outside the vehicle, so that's what he turned his attention to. People passing on streets, cars streaking by, random buildings and trees, that was where it was at. The monotony was so soothing it was scary. Of course, Lucile couldn't let the peace go unchecked for more than a minute.

“Today was fun, wasn't it?” If nothing else, her voice was distinguishable by its peerless joy. The day was hardly over anyway.

“Heh, yeah, it was fun.” If she had been a little older, she would have noticed the clear sarcasm in his voice.

“Yeah, it was.”

Noticing her desire for conversation, he humored her. “We'll have to do this more often.” He immediately wondered why he had chosen those exact words.

Somehow, she managed to sound even more cheerful as she said, “Yeah! Definitely!”

Brigant averted his eyes back out the window. Those same eyes widened as he backed away towards Lucile's side. One moment later, the armored bumper of a Hummer blasted the side of the limousine. The limousine went into a tailspin and was stopped by the light post with Lucile's door facing the intersection they had tried to cross. Through the window, Brigant saw a man get out of the Hummer's driver's side. A pistol was in his hand. Brigant grabbed Lucile and stuffed her into the recession just as pair of bullets shot out the window. He motioned her to stay put. She nodded her head, tears filling her eyes.

He pressed a button to unlock the door and slipped his foot under the latch, bracing himself against the seats. When their assailant was close enough, he pushed the latch up and kicked it open. The door caught the man in his crotch. Brigant used the added time to launch himself from the care with militant speed. He pushed the man's gun arm away, and a wild shot discharged. Brigant grabbed the back of his head and yanked it down into the car door. Their attacker was knocked out on the pavement. Someone must have already called the police, because Brigant heard sirens in the distance. He surveyed the car a few minutes longer, but nobody else came out. Relieved and satisfied, he sat himself down at the edge of the seat. Lucile, having noticed his disposition, pulled herself free from her hiding place and sat next to him. When they did this in the future, this would be the part they wouldn't repeat.

- - - - - - - - - -

Back at the manor, Brigant had showered and thrown on a fresh set of uniform clothing. The events on the road gave him need for the hot water. When the cops arrived, they took his and Lucile's statement, had the man carried away in an ambulance, and went through the rest of the bureaucratically process. It took some doing to convince them that they didn't need medical attention, but his military experience helped smooth things out. Even the driver was unharmed, though he was thrilled about taking a cab home. Driving after what happened didn't appeal to him.

He went into the living room and found Lucile sleeping peacefully on the red sofa. The cutting-edge HDTV played some sort of children's cartoon show. As much as she fancied herself an adult, Lucile was still a young girl, through and through. Brigant walked around to the back of the couch and pulled a blanket out from a hidden compartment. A few quick snaps freed it of any dust, and he carefully pulled it over Lucile's sleeping form. The warm look had returned to his eyes.

“I'm so glad that I put her in your care.” Mr. Ansiovelle's words were as heartfelt as they came. Brigant appreciated everyone of them.

“Don't worry about it,” he told him. It was about as colloquial as he had ever been with Rolland.

“No, really. I couldn't be more grateful to you. I knew I had made the right choice.”

“You took a risk on me though; on all of us, actually.”

“Yes, I'm aware.” Mr. Ansiovelle gazed over at a nearby painting on the wall. On one side, stood himself; and on the other, stood a radiant woman with the same blonde hair as Lucile. “However, I felt compelled to follow my wife's ideals after her death. She would always talk about giving second chances. Lord knows she gave me plenty more than that. Plenty more than I deserved.” Brigant saw the longing look in his employer's eye, a look he often found in himself. “That was one of the things that drew me to you, actually. I sympathized with you. I needed someone like you. Someone who understood, for better or worse, the same pain that I felt.

“It's not quite the same.” Brigant was in the habit of being modest and humble around Rolland. It was a habit that he rarely developed. “My wife isn't dead.”

“Maybe so, but what you feel must be so much worse than what I do. I wouldn't have been able to bear it if Helen had left me and taken my only daughter with her. That's why I put Lucile in your care. Because you truly do care.” He pushed out the last word with added emotion.

“I don't blame her for leaving me or for taking my daughter. It would have been wrong after what I did.”

Rolland patted Brigant on the shoulder. “I know, and I understand. Please, keep my daughter safe, just like you did today.”

“Of course, Lord Ansiovelle.”

“Good, now if you excuse me, I have to go down to the prison house. It seems like you weren't the only one who had trouble today.” Without even asking, Brigant already knew who he was talking about.

*****

And there you have it! What do you guys think?

[Almagest]

Excellent! I love it =D The tension is building and I love how you're dropping all these tantalizing hints about the characters' pasts.

Those same eyes widened as he backed away towards Lucile's side.

This is the only thing that seemed off. If he saw a car careening towards them, I think he'd move a lot faster to Lucile's side. "Backed away" implies slow, cautious movement.