Annie CLV: Car Troubles

(Chronological index: After Ray's graduation, before meeting Denise)

Annie began to suspect that there was nothing more boring than a dealership's waiting room.

At least, nothing since the Accounting class she'd audited in college. (She called it 'auditing' because that was classier than 'sitting through in Ray's pocket.')

Ray had noticed that his car was making a noise and scheduled some maintenance. Annie found an operating automobile a cacophony of explosions and impacts at all times. She hadn't even been able to tell if he was teasing when he asked, "Do you hear that?"

Lucky for her, after eight years as his pet, roommate, and captive audience, she'd known better than to ask, "What noise?" He would have explained. In great detail. Using words he KNEW she chose not to learn.

She'd never drive a car that wasn't actually being operated by remote control, so she cared nothing about the details. And SHE never had appointments other than the vet's office, so she'd never miss anything because of car troubles.

And now, the waiting room TV was set to a nothing-but-news station. There was no sylph-related story making headlines that day, so nothing after 'this just in' had any impact on her life.

She had no vote, had no party affiliations, followed no political or social celebrities, paid no taxes and earned no money.

Unless a world war broke out that interrupted the shipping of chocolate or the rationing of sugar, she was pretty much insulated from the cares of the world.

Ray had brought a military sci-fi book, so she couldn't admit to being bored. He'd summarize the plot, ostensibly for her benefit.

So she had to find her own entertainment. There was nothing in his left pocket, her usual sanctuary. She crawled across his chest to verify nothing had been forgotten in his other pocket.

Then she slid down his belly to check out the outline of the contents in his pants pockets.

Annie sat on his thigh and pushed the items with her feet to separate them for identification.

She found a key, probably to the apartment. The key to the desk at his job. The key to the folk's place. A key to the chocolate locker (the fucker). The key to the padlock he kept threatening to put on her cage door (asshole). And the keychain fob, an X-Wing fighter.

There was one missing, though. She kept pushing and shoving at his pocket to try to find it. She couldn’t quite remember which one was missing, though.

This was stupid, she knew, KNEW all the keys on his key chain! She'd wrestled the thing under the fridge often enough to know…

Ray turned a page above her, eyes on the text, and softly said, "I gave the car key to the mechanic."

She didn't bother to grant a response to the comment. She certainly wouldn't admit that she'd forgotten the key AND where it would be while the car was being mechanic-ized. She just sniffed and rolled her butt around to face the other leg.

"That pocket's empty," Ray said.

"HMPH!" Another few minutes of self-entertainment taken from her. But don't complain, he'll read aloud about people who can cross the gulf of stars at the push of a button and still solve problems by shooting each other.

She crawled to his knee and started to slide down his shin. He obligingly stretched that leg out, easing the slope and giving her more control.

The landing on his foot was gentle enough that she skipped over the plan to untie his laces. There was nothing else on, in or around his shoes to interest, though, so she stepped away from his toe and looked around.

There were a few other people in the room, at various stages of boredom and unpredictable activity. She didn't want to run across the floor as they could stand up and walk at any moment. One was staggering towards the water cooler as she watched, eyes on the folded newspaper in his hand.

She'd be crushed before he even noticed that the floor was uneven under his shoe.

Her second thought was to run along under the row of chairs, but two women had their purses stowed there.

Women got very territorial about their purses, the sylph knew. They could get downright aggravated if a sylph ran near it. What was weird was that, from her observations, they didn't care if the sylph was male ro female, but if the sylph's owner was a man, that got them upset.

"I guess they'd think I was spying for my master," she thought aloud, but softly. Anyway, that route was out. The other direction was the wall with the book shelves and the TV cabinet. There was just no telling how often anyone had cleaned under there, and NO idea what she'd find, trip over or end up stuck to her shoes.

Or, there might be a quarter, she thought. If she found her own quarters, Ray would agreeably buy her a lottery ticket to scratch it off on. She checked the guy at the water cooler, glanced around for children or pets, and ran to the nearest wall. Once there, she scurried along it to the magazine rack.

Too late, she realized that she'd never actually requested permission to go exploring. But then, it's not like Ray had so much going on in his head that he hadn't tracked her every move so far.

"That pocket's empty," she muttered.

There was dust under the rack, but not as much as she might have feared. There were definite zones to the dust. It had been a long while since the janitor had been motivated to sweep all the way back to the wall. The dust was thick there.

It was much less thick for a few feet back from there, and no dust at all was to be found for about a hand's depth from the front.

She carefully stepped to the edge of the dust and cleaned a small circle on the floor. Then she wrote: Do not remove the Gem else the Demon will be released and-

She managed to make the message end at the point the last sweeping had cleaned.

Annie smiled and headed for the TV cabinet.

Cables from the floor snaked up through holes in the cabinet, to the back of the television. She slithered up easily and explored each shelf.

The shelf right below the TV held a number of VHS tapes. With the CNN announcer's voice filling the space she began searching the titles. Unfortunately, they were all aimed at the toddler demographic.

"Why is there more than one tape, though?" she wondered. "They have no memory. You watch a film, you ask if they want to see another movie, and rewind it. One tape, four thousand satisfactory viewings…" Shaking her head as she ensured there was no adult entertainment to be found, she continued on up to the TV itself.

The shelf behind the TV was as dusty as the back of the floor, but at least she was high enough to see the top of the Magazine rack.

A shelf there held several wicker baskets. That caught her interest. She jumped over and pulled herself up to look inside the first basket.

It held small bags of potato chips, appropriate for a school lunch or a snack. Interesting. "Wonder how much they cost?" she mused. The next basket held tortilla chips in similar servings. Other baskets held popcorn, pretzels and cookies.

The cookies were ginger snaps, but at least the cookie-based thought was there. She wondered again what they would cost and how generous Master was feeling.

She turned and waved to grab his attention. He didn't look up from the book. She wasn't fooled, though. He was quite aware that she wanted him.

Annie figured Ray would be most interested in having (and sharing) one of the offerings. He hated pretzels and only liked potato chips if there was Coke to go with them. She walked to the tortilla basket and waved again. No response.

"Hey, MASTER!" she shouted. "Any chance I could get an advance on my allowance?" He shook his head. "I'd SHARE!" she protested. Why was he being a dick? It's not like she was asking him to buy something for her.

"Annie," he said calmly, "step towards me." She raised her eyebrows, but obeyed. "One more step," he said. "Now turn around."

She faced the tortilla chips. What? Was she supposed to see something that would change her mind?

They weren't even an off brand. They were from the good people at Doritos. There was no sign that they were past their Best By date. And Master couldn't have seen that from his chair anyway.

"Look down," he said. She did.

There was lettering on the shelf. A big piece of paper had been laminated across the shelf. A handwritten sign said something.

"We appreciate your business," she read aloud. "Please help yourself to a snack while your waiting." She laughed. "Heh, 'your.' Obviously not a professional sign maker was involved in-"

"Annie," Ray said softly.

"OH! It says we can HAVE one! Well, really, it says we can have all we want, but it would be rude to take more than one." At a time, she thought to herself.

She jumped up to the brim of the tortilla chips and down into the center. The bag was half again as tall as she was, but she easily tossed it to the shelf because her heart was pure.

Or her hunger was as that of ten men, something like that. She glanced up to see if Master was going to come help retrieve the chip bag. He ostentatiously turned the page. She swore and pushed. If some of the chips shattered, that was no big problem for her. In fact, smaller pieces of chips were to the sylph's scale, anyway.

If he didn’t like it, he'd had his chance.

The bag dropped rather suddenly, and Annie nearly tumbled over the edge behind it. She caught herself at the edge and watched the bag hit the ground. It crunched, drawing a satisfied smile from the sylph.

Now to get down… She had a brief pause at the edge of the shelf. The TV cabinet was a bit taller than the one she was one. She not only had to jump over the drop, she had to jump up to the higher level.

For once, she regretted not being born at sylph scale. She knew, as an intellectual matter, that her muscle-to-mass ratio was up to the challenge, and those born to the size knew it in their bones.

To her eye, even after almost a decade down here among the feet and wainscoting, it still appeared like a jump between buildings across an alley… Well, a deep breath and think of England… Or the Doritos… She ran and jumped and easily made it to the dusty area behind the TV.

Going down the cables was even easier than going down Ray's shin. Then she was out on the floor, dragging the bag.

She reached Ray's chair, only to look up and find it empty.

WHAT! Where the hell had he gone? Was the car done? She hadn't heard anyone say, "Mr. Foster." She knew she hadn't, she paid more attention to Ray's name than her own. No one ever asked a crowded waiting room if 'Miss Annie' was present.

On the other hand, it would be JUST LIKE the universe to wait until she was finished scavenging to make the effort useless. Maybe a mechanic had made eye contact through the window and waved, and Ray paid more attention to the human than he did to his own helpless little sylph in her hour of need.

She sniffed. It was SO very unfair. Now Ray would make a big deal about going to get lunch and all her hard work-

There was a distinctive sound somewhere outside of the waiting room. A vending machine had just rolled a can of a beverage out to the hopper.

The tiny fingers holding the seal of the bag of chips adjusted slightly so that she could cross her fingers.

Seconds later, Master sauntered back into the room, holding a Coke in one hand, his book in the other. He carefully seated himself in the chair next to the one she was waiting at.

He opened the can and held a hand out for his pet and her contribution to the morning snack.

As he lifted her up to the arm rest, she gauged his expression. He was not smiling, there was no twinkle in his eye. He hadn't snuck off in order to frighten her, or appear to abandon her.

No, he'd just assumed that the chips would go better with a drink. And he must have noticed the machine as they'd entered.

He lifted her up to sip at the drop of soda in the can's rim, then opened the bag.

"Should I have gotten potato chips?" she asked, gesturing at the soda.

"No, no," Ray said. "You picked the chips, I picked the drink."

"Are you saying RC cola is available?" she accused.

"No, but then, I always pick Coca-cola," he replied. He took one chip and offered her the open bag. She snagged a piece about the size of her rib cage.

They ate in companionable silence for a bit. Or at least, they made no vocal sounds. The crunching and slurping hardly counted.

Then Annie noticed that Ray wasn't reading his book. He was watching the TV describe a typhoon raging in the Pacific. Familiar with his moods, she estimated that he wasn't paying all that much attention, but the TV was the loudest thing in sight, so that was where his eyes were pointed.

"Master?" she called. "Did you finish your book?"

"No," he said. "But I can't read the book and hold the drink at the same time."

"Yes you can," she said. "I've seen you read while walking!"

"I mean," he said, "I can't hold the can for YOU with my eyes in the text."

"Ah." She considered that for a moment. "Well, of course, indulging your superior should take precedence over your own pitiful interests."

"A lovely speech," he said, "spoiled by the fact you opened the conversation by calling me 'master.'"

"Damn your memory," she said in a matter of fact tone.

"It's not that good," he said. "I mean, I can't remember the last time I gave you a backrub."

"Days," she said. "Possibly weeks ago." She took one last bite and dropped the chip back into the bag. "In fact, if I recall, it was before Saint Smurple's Feast." She stood and hopped to his thigh.

"THAT long?" he said. "I must apologize for neglecting you that long. There is simply no excuse."

Annie stretched out over his jeans, face towards his knee. "Less groveling, more rubbing," she said. Fingertips came to rest upon her shoulders, gently circling, pressing her body into the flesh of his leg.

She started to melt into the attention.

This was, of course, the moment that the mechanic called Mr. Foster's name.

Ray swore as quickly as Annie did.



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