Spilling Guts

Part 65 - Tiramisu and Project Billy

Will stopped by the Upstairs Patent Office to collect his things before descending into Watch Two and a long Monday test day. The receptionist nodded as he walked by. Everyone worked at their desks same as last week, though the ficus in the back corner looked a lot bigger, and hungrier.

Will glanced around, waiting for a pompous ass to come out of the woodwork and demand customer service before he could reach his borrowed desk.

Higuri greeted him with a wave instead. "Hey. Good to see you back."

"Hi. Yeah," admitted Will, setting down the doughnut box to stow his Star Wars mug in his satchel. The mug had been cleaned since Friday. "Last week was kind of... messy."

Understatement.

"We figured. You being a downstairs person and all. Too bad you missed the tiramisu."

Will paused, the Ringwraith's clawed hand frozen as it reached out of a canvas pocket. "Tiramisu?"

"Yeah, anytime we have to deal with Mister Caster and his entourage, Najarro gets us dessert. There might be some left in the fridge. You had to deal with him the most; you deserve some."

For a single shining second, the idea of creamed mascarpone, cookie, and coffee sounded perfect. Hunger reared up, pinching Will's stomach. Even the doughnuts couldn't make him crave this much. His mouth salivated and he could taste the cocoa dusting already. He wanted something sweet, he wanted to taste coffee.

But today was a test day.

"Maybe for lunch," Will deferred. "Got some work to catch up on." He held out the box and popped the lid. "Speaking of desserts would you like one?"

Two rows of Maple Bacon doughnuts glistened in the sparse sunlight, savory sweet fumes leaking out of the box.

"Don't mind if I do!" Higuri snatched a pastry with a napkin, face beaming. Another positive on the theory that food was the best lure for fast friends. "You ever need to come up here again, give my desk a ring, yeah?"

"Sure, laters." Items stowed, Will headed for the downstairs corridor. The idea of tiramisu haunted him down the elevator, the ghost of desserts missed stronger than the present smell of pastries.

I have a date with something else coffee flavored. But not nearly as sweet.

***

The Halo Steam Curler was meant to be revolutionary. Place on the head like a crown, flip the switch, or activate by app, and the spikes on the halo twirled the hair up into curlers, quickly steaming and drying each lock into perfect ringlets. It came in black, pink, and rose gold.

It also came with warnings of possible electrocution, burns, water leaks, and split ends.

"Shouldn't this be condemned by the Geneva Convention?" said Beni, scanning the images.

"I'm fairly certain it is," replied Reese. "It looks like a prop for the Stations of the Cross gone wrong."

Reese and Beni figured an early start on their inboxes, fortified by two tiny sips of Ka-Bang mixed with peach and strawberry soda, would make the time go faster. The never ending inbox was a foe deserving of extreme measures.

Louis' desk held a tower of patent files that could be arranged into a shallow bunker if need be. His neglect of his inbox had left a task neither of them wished to tackle; even with the combined data inputting forces of four agents bound to their desks.

Something tugged on the back of Beni's mind. A task that needed to be done, fixed. Something had haunted her as she came into Watch Two that day, but had been sent into exile by the look of her and Reese's inbox.

She'd remember it later. The sooner the inbox got done, the sooner she could check out the snow tires that had come in for the SUV.

A waft of sweet and savory air drift past them. Beni and Reese perked up from their chairs like a pointer-dogs on a scent. Their eyes went straight to the box Will held, then to Will's amused face.

Reese held out his hands as if begging alms. "I don't know what good thing I did, but I'm sure I deserve it and I thank you in advance."

Beni smacked her partner's shoulder. "I did the good thing. I drove last Friday."

"I offered my personal therapist for fluff sessions."

"I dug through trash!"

"I was a combat dummy!"

"Good morning to you, too." Will smiled, for a moment banishing the creases under his eyes. He popped open the box and held it out, the sugar and crispy bacon goodness shining like gold and rubies. "You can each have one. Consider it a thank you for putting up with my moods last week. And for driving."

"Just one?" said Reese.

Beni smacked him again. "Thank you very much! Are you going to circle the inboxes with us today?"

"No," said Will, voice grim. "It's a test day. I'll have to catch up later. But "

Will set the doughnut box on Beni's desk and turned to his own.

Just as Beni and Reese's twitching fingers touched icing and fried dough, a tiny wire connected to the top drawer of Will's desk went "ting!" A collective "uh oh" went off in their heads.

"Wait, don't-"

Project Billy; an intricate, silent, untouched and forgotten calamity, was triggered as Will opened his desk drawer.

Will has gone through so much, maybe we should disassemble Project Billy for another time. That was the thought that had gone through Beni's mind that morning and promptly forgot.

There wouldn't be another time. The time was now.

An explosion would have given off a boom, a bang, a concussive force to ring through a skull and shock the system. Will was familiar with the result of a blast; this was different. Instead his desk became possessed. Like invasive ghosts, puffs of ticker tape, confetti, and glitter from tiny air cannons attached to the underside of his desk dusted Will like a kindergarten craft. Signs popped up via springs, from drawers, keyboards, the trash bin, even behind his computer screen. Little cutouts of various celebrities and historical figures named "Billy", from Billie Eilish to Billy the Kid, held tiny signs.

Billy!

Billy!

Bill!

BJ!

Billy J!

BILLY!

Will stood still, eyes wide at first in surprise, and then fury. His lips pursed in a white line as a tinny speaker piped out the song "Billy don't be a Hero" by Paper lace.

"Um, we meant to disassemble that earlier," said Beni.

"That was on us," said Reese. "It was meant as a joke."

Will turned his head towards the disaster duo, slow as a glacier pending a meeting with the Titanic. His voice came out just as chilling. "You were warned."

Will took the box of maple bacon glazed doughnuts back, and walked away, glitter drifting off him like pollen.

Beni and Reese sat in awkward silence, punishing themselves for letting the maple bacon doughnuts escape their grasp.

"I didn't foresee him having that bad a reaction to a nick-name," said Reese.

"Neither did I," said Beni.