Geoffrey the Very Strange by Angel Martinez

Author:Angel Martinez [Martinez, Angel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Mischief Corner Books, LLC

8

Disastrous Uses of The Fine Art of Death

"Someone's pleased with himself today."

Geoffrey stopped humming and turned to find Cecil sitting on the shell containers. "I'm happy. I can have a happy morning."

"It's a nice change, boss. But a guardian has to wonder why."

"Not even slightly your business." A few minutes sorting through his charts later, he mentioned, as casually as possible, "Aspic will be stopping by this evening."

"Boss!" Cecil was suddenly in front of him, shadows fluttering around his hands as he waved them excitedly. "You unscrewed things?"

Geoffrey choked on a laugh. "Your choice of words makes that hard to answer."

"My, my. The things a person misses guarding the lair." Cecil grinned and punched Geoffrey in the arm. The sentiment was there if the impact was minimal. "Good for you."

"Thank you for not making fun, Cecil."

"Aw, hells. You're so cute basking in the glow. I'll make fun later when you deserve it."

Basking? Perhaps he was. He had a lot of glow in which to bask. So polite and deferential usually, Aspic had taken such firm charge. Still polite. Still sweet. But Geoffrey had come to the obvious conclusion when he'd woken in the middle of the night that Aspic had done it for him. Geoffrey had been so nervous he'd been in danger of falling apart, and Aspic understood the need without making an issue of it and held Geoffrey together every step of the way.

So much better than his first time several years before, even without the humiliation afterward. It wasn't as if he'd never wanted to try again, but he'd never been interested since then in anyone until Aspic. Wonderful. Just wonderful.

"Hey, Geoffy?" Cecil waved a hand in front of his face. "You sure you want to work today instead of just taking a day to be all dreamy about knocking boots with the shop clerk?"

"We weren't wearing boots," Geoffrey murmured, then blinked the world back into focus. "Oh, that was a eulogy, I suppose."

"Euphemism. Yeah. Make an executive decision here, boss."

"Sorry. Yes, working." Geoffrey rose, rolled up the charts, and pulled out a new sheet of paper. "I want to start trials with the rabbit I found."

Cecil flowed over to the altar. "Great! So we can just do the ones where we had some kind of reaction with the plants, right?"

"No. Of course not. We need to be methomania about this and start back at the beginning."

"Oh, come on! We don't have to be methodical about everything."

Geoffrey shot his guardian a quelling look. "You have something better to do today?"

"I was going to wash my hair."

"Which you don't actually have." Geoffrey pointed to the containers. "I'll get the rabbit. Clamshells only, comet pattern."

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