Monday, July 4, 2005

   *Subject line removed for study*

Sunday's post brought to you by the letter X.

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Well, another exciting Sunday has passed me by. I did very little of importance today. My brother & I tried to go for a walk, but it didn't last very long because of the humidity. It had been a little nicer out earlier and the weather changed on us! How dare it!

Tomorrow is the holiday. I've got nothing terribly exciting planned. We're gonna go over to our sister's house for supper. Yummy! I will probably do a load of laundry during the day. Whee. I don't know about fireworks. I don't know where any are going to be set off. I'd really like to go see some somewhere, but there's practically no gas in my car & I have no money to fill it up.

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Well, since nothing exciting happened, I'm going to treat y'all with a story. But... there's always a 'but'... *mental image has been censored*

*clears throat* Let's try that again.

I'm going to treat y'all with a story, but it's not the one you're expecting. This is another one that has been bouncing around in my head for a long long time and I had started to write ages ago. But I am not terribly happy with how that version is going, so I started a prequel to it. If I like how the prequel turns out, it may end up being the main story and what I've got done may be scrapped and/or included in this one.

Well, now that my intro to the story has become long winded, here's the story...

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Michael knew the safe was in the office on the ground floor of the old stone house. He had cased the house earlier in the week while posing as a member of the cleaning crew. The challenge now was going to be getting into the office while a party was going on in the house.

Michael Fitzhugh Domenico was a thief. He had chosen the profession mainly out of defiance. His father was a Spanish diplomat; his mother, a Welsh heiress. His family had money, but he thrived on the thrill of the heist. He never really needed any of the things he stole.

Michael adjusted his tie before entering the ballroom. This was his element. He charmed his way around the room, chatting up whomever he could, all the while moving ever closer to the office. Eventually he made it to the office and snuck in. The safe was behind the desk. He pulled on a pair of gloves before carefully removing the painting that covered the safe and setting it on the floor. He smiled as he recognized the safe as being one that was not too difficult to crack. The proper tools were in his pockets and he proceeded to open the safe.

Inside the safe, he found papers. Nothing but papers. Michael sat at the desk and glanced through what he had found. Nothing terribly interesting here, he thought. What a disappointment. The light in the office came on as he was putting things back into the safe. He froze.

“Very good, Mister Domenico,” said the man at the light switch. “We’ve been waiting for you to drop by and check out our little safe.”

Michael turned slowly to face the man. “Was this some kind of set up?” he asked.

“It was every kind of set up. Have a seat.” The man pointed to the chair behind the desk. “Let’s talk.”

Michael sat at the desk. “Talk about what?”

The man came over to the desk and sat across from Michael. “Your future. What we say here will determine that for you. Interested in what I have to offer?”

“Tell me first and then I’ll decide.”

The man smiled. “All right. What would you say if I told you we’ve had our eye on you for quite a while?”

Michael said nothing.

“Very well,” the man said with a laugh, “I understand your silence. Now, here’s the pitch, as the Americans say. We would like you to work for us.”

“Who is ‘us’?”

“The government.”

Michael laughed. “The government wants me. What a joke!”

“But it isn’t a joke, Mister Domenico. British Intelligence has use for someone with your skills.”

“British Intelligence. Now I know you’re joking.”

“I am not joking. I am deadly serious. I am giving you a choice. Either work for us, or go to jail for burglary. Imagine how that would make your parents feel. Imagine the embarrassment.” His smile lost all warmth.

Michael thought about what his parents would say if he was caught stealing. Even though he wasn’t on the best terms with them due to his wild university days, he knew the stigma of having a son in prison would be devastating. “All right,” he said. “You win. I’ll play your little game and work for you.”

“Very good,” the man said. “Welcome aboard. Be at this address Monday morning at 0700. Your training starts then.” He handed Michael a business card. “Now go back out there and mingle.”

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All right... this one is totally different than the one about Sam & Hikaru! I'll have more of that one in a few days. Eventually this one will have pages of its own and a link like the other one.

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Well, I actually got through sites of all who posted on 7/3/05! I feel so good about that!

Laters!

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