Post by Nydiva on Apr 30, 2012 18:23:15 GMT -8
A little bit of hastily-written nonsense that began when I was looking for excuses to put off window cleaning. Then it grew. This is meant as a one-off, but the two persistent ladies of the story may insist otherwise!
“It’s YOUR turn.”
“No, it’s YOURS!”
James West and Artemus Gordon stood on opposite sides of the Varnish car, glaring at each other.
Inside the Wanderer, disorder reigned. The windows were dim with dust; the draperies were spattered by the elements and the residue of several fracases, which occurred therein. Newspapers, playing cards, books and sundry items littered the floor, completely obscuring the carpet. Then there was the galley. How one small space could be piled so precariously high with pots, plates, cups and glasses was something neither agent cared to think about.
“All right,” growled Jim, “We’ll toss for it. Loser does clean up. Call.”
“Tails. And I expect you to be working yours off,” Artie barked back.
Jim fished a silver dollar from his vest pocket and spun it in the air - just as a tottering pile of dinnerware finally succumbed to gravity with a resounding crash. Both heads turned toward the sound, as the coin disappeared somewhere under one of the myriad piles on the floor.
“You got another coin?” asked Jim, indicating his empty pockets.
“Fresh out.”
With a sigh, both men dropped to their knees, rooting through strewn papers and creating further jumble. Artie sat back on his heels for a moment, then noticed a piece of paper stuck to the sole of Jim’s boot. He removed it and read a somewhat floridly-written flyer:
“The winter has flown away and spring sweeps in to make all fresh and new. But has spring swept by your home unheeded? Fear not. Let our hands make sure the breath of spring enters your home, turning the chaos of Hades’ winter into the sparkling beauty of the Elysian Fields.”
Octavia and Oriella Okneros
Cleaning Service - Murphysville”
“That’s only a few miles back down the line.” Artie added hopefully.
“Done!” Replied Jim, with a grimace as his hand slid across a damp, used cigar butt.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Arriving in town, they quickly located the advertised establishment.
“This looks good, I guess.” Remarked Jim eyeing the fussy exterior, painted in pastels and covered with every decorative element known to mankind.
“James, my boy, this is just what we need. A woman’s touch.” Artie tapped the door with the blindingly polished brass knocker in the shape of a lyre.
“Oh, DO come in.“ Two lilting feminine voices answered simultaneously.
Artie entered the room with Jim close behind him. The men gaped. Gracefully rising from behind a partners’ desk were two nearly identical young women. Two astonishingly lovely young women.
“The breath of spring, just as advertised,” muttered Artie with a delighted gleam in his eyes.
“Ladies”, Jim said with an equally happy mien. “I believe we are in need of your services.”
“Oh yes,” replied Octavia. She was a slim, saffron-haired nymph dressed in pale blue, with many ruffles and ribbons and a delicate matching apron.
“Of course,” echoed Oriella, whose hair was tawnier. She was dressed in an outfit identical to her sister, only in pale pink.
“This is Octavia.” said Oriella.
“This is Oriella.” said Octavia.
“We’re sisters.” they both added.
“I’m James West and this is my partner, Artemus Gordon.”
“And your domicile is...where?” asked Octavia.
“Actually, it’s a private train. Off on a siding just out of town.”
“My, how unique,” observed Oriella. She met her sister’s eyes and they gave a slight nod to each other.
“Of course we’ll have to add a teeny bit extra to our fee for our travel time.” Octavia named a price that had the two agents momentarily wincing. But only momentarily as they observed the sisters standing side by side, heads tilted expectantly, with wistful expressions on their china doll faces.
“Ladies,” answered Artie, “No price is too great for such obviously skilled, and may I add, lovely, helpers.”
“Wonderful,” the sisters chimed. “We’ll just get our supplies.” They sashayed to a storage room and began to bring out buckets (painted with flowers), brooms (with ribbons on their handles), other sundry cleaning supplies, and pink and blue feather dusters.
Jim and Artie leapt to load them into the sisters’ trim (and trimmed) carriage.
“My, how gallant.” Octavia smiled. She met her sister’s eyes and another nod was exchanged.
The quartet soon set off. But their departure didn’t go unnoticed. Four scruffy cowboys eyed them sourly.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“Dang iffen that ain’t the two lawmen what put Rake and Jeb in jail!”
“Put us out of business too. And now we gotta lay low in this pokey little town cuz there‘s a price on our heads.
“And would ya look at who they’re with. Them two snooty gals what won’t give us the time of day.” added the third man.
“Seems ta me a good time to fix all their wagons. Let’s ride”, ordered the fourth thug. A second quartet set off.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Jim and Artie exchanged slightly nervous glances. The two ladies acted as if they knew what they were doing, and they certainly were charging as if they knew what they were doing; but they seemed too ethereal for such work. Jim opened the door to the Varnish car and bowed the sisters in.
“Oh,” said Octavia.
“My”, said Oriella.
“The Augean Stables!” they both breathed in dismay.
“Well, there’s nothing for it, but to start.” announced Octavia, who unbuttoned the cuffs at her wrists and began delicately rolling up her sleeves. Oriella followed suit. Jim and Artie stood mesmerized at the sight of the girls’ fragile wrists, alabaster forearms and, truth be told, dainty but rather pointed elbows.
“If you gentlemen would be so kind as to bring in a few of our supplies...” Oriella suggested.
Jim and Artie elbowed each other out the door in their hurry to comply. Their passing stirred up a sheaf of paper. In particular a paper with a sketch of four men. A wanted poster to be more precise. Octavia caught it mid air. Her eyes widened as she showed it to Oriella.
“Goodness. Those louts who have been pestering us are wanted by the law.” Oriella said.
“Heaven knows, no one else would want them. But it is a tidy sum.” observed Octavia.
Jim and Artie returned, arms laden with brooms, rug beaters, buckets, etc. and two pink and blue feather dusters tucked under their arms. The sisters gave them beatific smiles.
“Is there a stream nearby?” asked Oriella, picking up a stack of buckets.
“Allow me.” Artie quickly relieved her of the buckets and offered his arm. With a smile and a backward glance at her sister, Oriella minced out of the train on Artie’s arm.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Octavia took another look around the room and sighed deeply, producing pleasing results on the upper part of her torso, which Jim did not fail to notice. With an adorably determined expression on her face, Octavia began to stride to a window, only to have her foot slip on one of the many piles of debris. Jim was quick to break her fall, and he savored the soft curves of the petite enchantress in his arms.
“Thank you, Mr. West.” Octavia cooed up at the smitten agent. “It’s quite the obstacle course in here, isn’t it?”
“It’s Jim, please.” He replied, gazing into her startlingly violet eyes and releasing her reluctantly.
“Jim, then.” she trilled back. “I’m afraid I’m just a bit breathless after that near mishap.”
“Please, have a seat.” Jim swiftly grabbed armfuls of papers, etc. clearing the settee. With a grateful smile, Octavia glided onto the settee.
“Oh, and you can just put those papers in the bin on the platform. And you might want to clear a path on the floor while you‘re at it.” added Octavia.
Jim sprang into action; and under the subtle importunities of the vision in blue, order tentatively began to emerge in the Varnish car.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“What a glorious day. And what a lovely view.” exclaimed Oriella as she and Artie reached the stream.
“I couldn’t agree more.” grinned Artie as he watched Oriella turn a little pirouette in the warm sun.
With an impish laugh, the graceful young woman snatched up the buckets and raced to the stream. Artie eagerly followed. He watched entranced as she leaned out to fill a bucket.
“Oh dear, I’m slipping.” she quavered in dismay.
Artie flung himself forward as Oriella struggled for balance. Just as she was about to tip into the water, he caught her up in his arms.
“Thank you, Mr. Gordon.” Oriella purred fetchingly. “I didn‘t realize how slippery those mossy rocks were.”
“Call me Artie, please.” He hesitantly released the feather light bundle of sheer femininity that nestled so perfectly in his embrace.
“Artie, of course. But I still have to fill those buckets.” she sighed making a small motion to retrieve a fallen bucket.
“I wouldn’t dream of letting you risk another fall.” Artie snatched up the buckets and began to fill same.
“While you’re doing that, I saw a stand of hyacinths by that last bend. I want to bring some back.” Oriella took another empty bucket and skipped off. Artie decided that the retreating view was almost as good as the approaching one. He shook his head to clear it, and returned to the task of filling buckets.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Artie wasn‘t the only one who observed Oriella‘s progress. Four seedy figures stealthily tethered their horses and hissed out a plan.
“You and Hank go over to that train and get the fella there. Me and Clyde will handle the one here. Them females won’t be no trouble at all.” the leader added with a leer.
Two set off and two remained.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Oriella, engaged in her pleasant task, was well satisfied with the clusters of fragrant purple blooms ready to be placed in the bucket by her side. As she headed to dip the bucket in the river, her keen ears heard clumsy footsteps approaching. Footsteps that certainly did not belong to Artie. A quick, furtive glance was all she needed. She swiftly sat down by the bank and removed her shoes, then her stockings. She hiked up her skirt and sensuously splashed her legs in the sparking water.
The approaching footsteps became even clumsier and she could hear the hoarse breathing of the two men. She saw the shadow of hands reaching for her. With exquisite timing, Oriella spun to her feet, swinging the bucket like a knight’s mace. It had the desired effect. Two stunned thugs tumbled into the river.
“Oh drat!”, she exclaimed crossly. “You dented my bucket!”
The two semi-conscious miscreants felt a surprisingly vice-like grip on their collars as Oriella hauled them out of the drink. It was only a matter of moments before she securely trussed the reeling men to a sturdy tree with the very ropes they had planned to use on Oriella.
“I hate to waste a good pair of stockings, but the reward will cover that plus a few more niceties.” she added as she gagged the hapless thugs. “Now you two think about the bother you’ve made until my sister and I come back for you.”
Wearing an expression of innocent pleasure, Oriella returned to Artie with the flowers.
“They almost match your eyes,” Artie observed, losing himself in their delightful depths. With Oriella lightly clinging to his laden arms, they made their way back to the Wanderer.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
TNOT Murderous Spring...Cleaning
“It’s YOUR turn.”
“No, it’s YOURS!”
James West and Artemus Gordon stood on opposite sides of the Varnish car, glaring at each other.
Inside the Wanderer, disorder reigned. The windows were dim with dust; the draperies were spattered by the elements and the residue of several fracases, which occurred therein. Newspapers, playing cards, books and sundry items littered the floor, completely obscuring the carpet. Then there was the galley. How one small space could be piled so precariously high with pots, plates, cups and glasses was something neither agent cared to think about.
“All right,” growled Jim, “We’ll toss for it. Loser does clean up. Call.”
“Tails. And I expect you to be working yours off,” Artie barked back.
Jim fished a silver dollar from his vest pocket and spun it in the air - just as a tottering pile of dinnerware finally succumbed to gravity with a resounding crash. Both heads turned toward the sound, as the coin disappeared somewhere under one of the myriad piles on the floor.
“You got another coin?” asked Jim, indicating his empty pockets.
“Fresh out.”
With a sigh, both men dropped to their knees, rooting through strewn papers and creating further jumble. Artie sat back on his heels for a moment, then noticed a piece of paper stuck to the sole of Jim’s boot. He removed it and read a somewhat floridly-written flyer:
“The winter has flown away and spring sweeps in to make all fresh and new. But has spring swept by your home unheeded? Fear not. Let our hands make sure the breath of spring enters your home, turning the chaos of Hades’ winter into the sparkling beauty of the Elysian Fields.”
Octavia and Oriella Okneros
Cleaning Service - Murphysville”
“That’s only a few miles back down the line.” Artie added hopefully.
“Done!” Replied Jim, with a grimace as his hand slid across a damp, used cigar butt.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Arriving in town, they quickly located the advertised establishment.
“This looks good, I guess.” Remarked Jim eyeing the fussy exterior, painted in pastels and covered with every decorative element known to mankind.
“James, my boy, this is just what we need. A woman’s touch.” Artie tapped the door with the blindingly polished brass knocker in the shape of a lyre.
“Oh, DO come in.“ Two lilting feminine voices answered simultaneously.
Artie entered the room with Jim close behind him. The men gaped. Gracefully rising from behind a partners’ desk were two nearly identical young women. Two astonishingly lovely young women.
“The breath of spring, just as advertised,” muttered Artie with a delighted gleam in his eyes.
“Ladies”, Jim said with an equally happy mien. “I believe we are in need of your services.”
“Oh yes,” replied Octavia. She was a slim, saffron-haired nymph dressed in pale blue, with many ruffles and ribbons and a delicate matching apron.
“Of course,” echoed Oriella, whose hair was tawnier. She was dressed in an outfit identical to her sister, only in pale pink.
“This is Octavia.” said Oriella.
“This is Oriella.” said Octavia.
“We’re sisters.” they both added.
“I’m James West and this is my partner, Artemus Gordon.”
“And your domicile is...where?” asked Octavia.
“Actually, it’s a private train. Off on a siding just out of town.”
“My, how unique,” observed Oriella. She met her sister’s eyes and they gave a slight nod to each other.
“Of course we’ll have to add a teeny bit extra to our fee for our travel time.” Octavia named a price that had the two agents momentarily wincing. But only momentarily as they observed the sisters standing side by side, heads tilted expectantly, with wistful expressions on their china doll faces.
“Ladies,” answered Artie, “No price is too great for such obviously skilled, and may I add, lovely, helpers.”
“Wonderful,” the sisters chimed. “We’ll just get our supplies.” They sashayed to a storage room and began to bring out buckets (painted with flowers), brooms (with ribbons on their handles), other sundry cleaning supplies, and pink and blue feather dusters.
Jim and Artie leapt to load them into the sisters’ trim (and trimmed) carriage.
“My, how gallant.” Octavia smiled. She met her sister’s eyes and another nod was exchanged.
The quartet soon set off. But their departure didn’t go unnoticed. Four scruffy cowboys eyed them sourly.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“Dang iffen that ain’t the two lawmen what put Rake and Jeb in jail!”
“Put us out of business too. And now we gotta lay low in this pokey little town cuz there‘s a price on our heads.
“And would ya look at who they’re with. Them two snooty gals what won’t give us the time of day.” added the third man.
“Seems ta me a good time to fix all their wagons. Let’s ride”, ordered the fourth thug. A second quartet set off.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Jim and Artie exchanged slightly nervous glances. The two ladies acted as if they knew what they were doing, and they certainly were charging as if they knew what they were doing; but they seemed too ethereal for such work. Jim opened the door to the Varnish car and bowed the sisters in.
“Oh,” said Octavia.
“My”, said Oriella.
“The Augean Stables!” they both breathed in dismay.
“Well, there’s nothing for it, but to start.” announced Octavia, who unbuttoned the cuffs at her wrists and began delicately rolling up her sleeves. Oriella followed suit. Jim and Artie stood mesmerized at the sight of the girls’ fragile wrists, alabaster forearms and, truth be told, dainty but rather pointed elbows.
“If you gentlemen would be so kind as to bring in a few of our supplies...” Oriella suggested.
Jim and Artie elbowed each other out the door in their hurry to comply. Their passing stirred up a sheaf of paper. In particular a paper with a sketch of four men. A wanted poster to be more precise. Octavia caught it mid air. Her eyes widened as she showed it to Oriella.
“Goodness. Those louts who have been pestering us are wanted by the law.” Oriella said.
“Heaven knows, no one else would want them. But it is a tidy sum.” observed Octavia.
Jim and Artie returned, arms laden with brooms, rug beaters, buckets, etc. and two pink and blue feather dusters tucked under their arms. The sisters gave them beatific smiles.
“Is there a stream nearby?” asked Oriella, picking up a stack of buckets.
“Allow me.” Artie quickly relieved her of the buckets and offered his arm. With a smile and a backward glance at her sister, Oriella minced out of the train on Artie’s arm.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Octavia took another look around the room and sighed deeply, producing pleasing results on the upper part of her torso, which Jim did not fail to notice. With an adorably determined expression on her face, Octavia began to stride to a window, only to have her foot slip on one of the many piles of debris. Jim was quick to break her fall, and he savored the soft curves of the petite enchantress in his arms.
“Thank you, Mr. West.” Octavia cooed up at the smitten agent. “It’s quite the obstacle course in here, isn’t it?”
“It’s Jim, please.” He replied, gazing into her startlingly violet eyes and releasing her reluctantly.
“Jim, then.” she trilled back. “I’m afraid I’m just a bit breathless after that near mishap.”
“Please, have a seat.” Jim swiftly grabbed armfuls of papers, etc. clearing the settee. With a grateful smile, Octavia glided onto the settee.
“Oh, and you can just put those papers in the bin on the platform. And you might want to clear a path on the floor while you‘re at it.” added Octavia.
Jim sprang into action; and under the subtle importunities of the vision in blue, order tentatively began to emerge in the Varnish car.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“What a glorious day. And what a lovely view.” exclaimed Oriella as she and Artie reached the stream.
“I couldn’t agree more.” grinned Artie as he watched Oriella turn a little pirouette in the warm sun.
With an impish laugh, the graceful young woman snatched up the buckets and raced to the stream. Artie eagerly followed. He watched entranced as she leaned out to fill a bucket.
“Oh dear, I’m slipping.” she quavered in dismay.
Artie flung himself forward as Oriella struggled for balance. Just as she was about to tip into the water, he caught her up in his arms.
“Thank you, Mr. Gordon.” Oriella purred fetchingly. “I didn‘t realize how slippery those mossy rocks were.”
“Call me Artie, please.” He hesitantly released the feather light bundle of sheer femininity that nestled so perfectly in his embrace.
“Artie, of course. But I still have to fill those buckets.” she sighed making a small motion to retrieve a fallen bucket.
“I wouldn’t dream of letting you risk another fall.” Artie snatched up the buckets and began to fill same.
“While you’re doing that, I saw a stand of hyacinths by that last bend. I want to bring some back.” Oriella took another empty bucket and skipped off. Artie decided that the retreating view was almost as good as the approaching one. He shook his head to clear it, and returned to the task of filling buckets.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Artie wasn‘t the only one who observed Oriella‘s progress. Four seedy figures stealthily tethered their horses and hissed out a plan.
“You and Hank go over to that train and get the fella there. Me and Clyde will handle the one here. Them females won’t be no trouble at all.” the leader added with a leer.
Two set off and two remained.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Oriella, engaged in her pleasant task, was well satisfied with the clusters of fragrant purple blooms ready to be placed in the bucket by her side. As she headed to dip the bucket in the river, her keen ears heard clumsy footsteps approaching. Footsteps that certainly did not belong to Artie. A quick, furtive glance was all she needed. She swiftly sat down by the bank and removed her shoes, then her stockings. She hiked up her skirt and sensuously splashed her legs in the sparking water.
The approaching footsteps became even clumsier and she could hear the hoarse breathing of the two men. She saw the shadow of hands reaching for her. With exquisite timing, Oriella spun to her feet, swinging the bucket like a knight’s mace. It had the desired effect. Two stunned thugs tumbled into the river.
“Oh drat!”, she exclaimed crossly. “You dented my bucket!”
The two semi-conscious miscreants felt a surprisingly vice-like grip on their collars as Oriella hauled them out of the drink. It was only a matter of moments before she securely trussed the reeling men to a sturdy tree with the very ropes they had planned to use on Oriella.
“I hate to waste a good pair of stockings, but the reward will cover that plus a few more niceties.” she added as she gagged the hapless thugs. “Now you two think about the bother you’ve made until my sister and I come back for you.”
Wearing an expression of innocent pleasure, Oriella returned to Artie with the flowers.
“They almost match your eyes,” Artie observed, losing himself in their delightful depths. With Oriella lightly clinging to his laden arms, they made their way back to the Wanderer.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*