Unwanted Spooning

On a deserted stretch of hiking trail, a rack of coats was hovering in thin air. The Caretaker flicked his wrist and two of them vanished. The rest remained flapping before him. He was sitting on a beautiful bench that looked out over Los Angeles, but he showed no interest in the view. In fact, he was considering his options.

Options, the word tasted funny. He had never had options, not really. He had been assigned a job and he had performed it. He had stopped wondering if he liked his occupation about eight thousand years ago. Suddenly, he clapped his hands together and the rack vanished. He wasn't in a fashionable mood anymore.

Before, when the boss (her given name was longer than a run-on sentence) had asked him what he planned to do if reached full strength, he had been honest. He understood why she was taking precautions. In a few weeks he would be powerful enough to take down any protective spirit as well as cause any amount of mayhem and upset in the human world. But did he want that?

He understood empathy. When he had made the doors of the hospital automatic for May he had been kind. He liked playing with her friend's brain though. People's minds could be so boring but Ray's was lit up like a christmas tree, always working against his body. He would've liked to have played with it a bit more. May would surely punch him again if she heard him think that. He smirked at the idea.

"This is the "La La Land" bench, isn't it?" The high, tinkly voice intruded into his space.

He turned to see a familiar face. It was Stella, chuckling away in her oversized sweatshirt. "No," he replied. Then, "I hated that movie." He sniffed.

"I know I know," Stella sat down, affectionate annoyance in her voice, "the ratio of the opening was all off or whatever."

"He shot it in widescreen and then put the camera on a VERTICAL freeway." He was still furious about it. "Besides, I don't like wishy washy endings. Was it tragic, or not? Were they happy, or not?"

"But you're such a grey area being." Stella shoved her elbow into his ribs. She was, could he call her a friend? The least obnoxious spirit he knew, for sure. Usually, she was his first call if he was in the mood for some noir films. Stella was the type to curse out the higher bureaucratic processes to the dismay of her co-workers.

Right now, she was looking at him curiously. "Bound to a human, huh?"

He groaned. "Everyone knows?"

"Everyone knows you made Rodeo Drive your playground and now what, can you fly?" Stella grew serious.

"Maybe." He grinned.

She crossed her legs underneath her and looked out at the beautiful skyline as a helicopter flew overhead. "You make our jobs harder, you know? When you have fun with them."

"Your jobs were never hard to begin with." His voice hardened. It was an old fight. "Give them safe passage from this world to the next. That's all you really do."

"We're the ones who protect them." Stella wasn't looking at him.

"From what? You can't stop death or misery or injustice." His voice rose. "You loll about in case a demonic spirit gets loose which hasn't happened in about a million years."

"I was there last time," she said harshly. "Friends died and the whole world would have gone belly up and you hadn't even been born yet."

His anger evaporated. "Let's stop." He laughed a little roughly. "Who knows I could grow bombs for hands and make your job a living hell."

Stella thought for a second. "I suppose if it comes to it we'll have to fight you."

He glanced at her sharply. Her round, rather sweet face was clear of emotion, but he saw that her fists were clenched inside the pockets of her sweatshirt. "How do you know I'll do anything bad?"

She withdrew her hands. "I don't. But I don't know for sure that you won't. And--" her eyes found his and there was an almost pitying expression in them. "She won't care if you don't intend to upset the balance. *They* won't care. You'll have the ability to, which makes you a threat."

He considered this for a long moment. "Are you here to scold me, or warn me?"

She relaxed her face. "Both, I suppose. And I missed your European history lectures."

There was a beat.

"That was sarcasm wasn't it?"

"Your narcissism is still relatively intact, I see." Stella stood up purposefully, as if she had said all she needed to say. "I liked the brown one."

She melted into the trees and it took him a second to realize that she was talking about the coats.

Then, he felt something, like an ice shard in his chest.

May was curled up underneath her bed. Her breathing was short and fast, her vision was blurred. It had come on suddenly. She sensed movement and then, she was no longer alone.

The Caretaker enveloped her into his arms. She let him hold her, both of their heads brushing the top of her metal bed frame, as her shaking quieted and her breathing grew easier.

When the attack had stopped, she wrenched herself free and promptly banged her skull against the wall.

"SHIT."

"Not the thank you I was expecting."

May scrambled out from under the bed. He was already leaning against the bookshelf on the far side of the room.

"Sweetie?" Her mom was calling. "Are you okay?"

"Fine!" May yelled. Then, her voice dropped to a whisper. "You left me in the hospital."

"Yes," he said.

"And now you're here." She sat down at her desk and tapped one key absently.

"I felt you panicking."

May swallowed wrong and went into a coughing fit. He was a statue until her hacking was finished. "You---you--felt me panicking. Is that a Caretaker thing?"

"Maybe?" He looked like he was considering the possibility. "I'll have to ask my boss."

"No," May decided, "I am going to ask your boss."

He raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"Take me to see them, whoever is in charge, whoever picked me for this insanity." May stood and began walking back and forth. "I deserve to meet them face to face." She looked down and saw to her surprise that the Caretaker was barefoot. Had he arrived barefoot? Did he remember her shoe rule?

"Do you always pace like this when you're mad?" The Caretaker seemed amused.

"Always," May paused, "well usually I pace with a chocolate bar but I am definitely not leaving you alone in my room to get one from the kitchen."

"Do you want me to get you one?" The Caretaker asked innocently.

"Sure," May said absently.

He disappeared and then reappeared, still barefoot with a giant, gourmet chocolate bar. It was roughly the size of her head. She took in both hands. "Where--did you get this?"

"Switzerland."

"Switzerland!" Her hands fumbled with the candy. "You went to Switzerland and back just now...in the space of three seconds."

He grinned. "It used to take me an hour."

May unwrapped the chocolate slowly and took a bite. "You know that was a panic attack." She didn't look at him.

"I know. That's why I hugged you." He lifted up her head with one hand. "I used to get them too. During the first few years."

May had a sudden vision of a younger version of him, collapsing in a hospital just like she did after experiencing the same kind of pain.

His face seemed more open than it had before. She wanted to ask who had hugged him, but before she could he had released her face and turned away to pick out a book.

May took another gulp of chocolate and watched him become immediately engrossed in "Lord of the Rings." She wondered if he was doing it to avoid letting his guard down anymore than he already had.

"Alright," she said.

He looked up expectantly.

"You've given me enough evidence to suggest that you're not going to hurt me." She unwrapped more of the chocolate bar loudly. "But I need to meet the boss. When can that happen?"

He sighed. "She has office hours only during the waning moon and it requires a three month waiting period to even get on the list." He thought for a moment. "Unless she summons you."

"Well, how do we get her to summon you? Or me? Us?" May was practically jumping up and down.

The Caretaker shrugged. "Last time I caused a huge power outage on Rodeo Drive."

May gasped. "That was you? It was on the news!" She cleared her head with a shake. "But okay, so cause another outage?"

He shook his head. "It has to be bigger. She only dressed me down herself last time because she'd bound me to you. When I kicked over a building she had an assistant do it."

"You kicked down a--" May threw down the chocolate, "never mind. Ok...bigger? What's bigger?"

He cocked his head to the side in a way that May had already come to associate with something bad. "Something that causes more damage."

"Like what?"

The Caretaker straightened up. "Earthquake."

May sat down. "Earthquake?" She asked faintly.

"Earthquake," he said again.

"How big an earthquake?" May pictured the San Andreas fault rupturing.

"I don't know," the Caretaker answered.

And she believed him.