Planetary (GO!) [Dalton]

[Jackeroe Connick]

Jackeroe was hurt. Offended, even. He felt that his lack of knowledge on a subject that he felt he was privy to was akin to a direct affront on his person. It wasn’t like it was a secret. Or was it a secret? Was this top secret knowledge? No, no, because everyone was talking about it. No one bothered to inform him! This. Was. An. Outrage! He should’ve gone to that holiday party. He could’ve seen it himself, but no, he didn’t feel the need to go. Shame on him! Shame on him and his laziness! Now he had this to deal with, this, this, this… Relationship! The thirty year old strode down the hallway, the usual bounce in his step still there.

He wasn’t offended, really. Just surprised. Maybe a little upset that he wasn’t there to see it. And maybe a little jaded, because she hadn’t told him about it. His own love! Betrayed! He felt betrayed! (Again, not really. This is Jack we’re talking about.) He was pouting, a little bit. But that was to be expected. He just learned that one of his best co-workers was in a relationship. With another co-worker! One who he had never met, at that! This was serious business!

“Oh Clarisse, why didn’t you tell me… She must’ve thought I’d be jealous and pick a fight with her new beau. That’s it.” Jackeroe muttered to himself, mildly joking, as always. He knew full well that Clarisse probably just didn’t consider that it would matter that much to him. It wouldn’t really. But now that he had found out about it, the hard way, it was his… civic duty to investigate.

That; and he was a nosy git.

The power trainer didn’t even pause as he rounded a corner. When one worked and stayed at Hammel for as long as he did, they learned to navigate quickly. Considering he was also a ‘first responder’ to many power situations gone haywire, it was a good idea to know the hallways of Hammel like the back of his hand. He wasn’t often needed in the English department though, if anything went wrong Anya was usually the one who would run and stop it. He could back her up, of course, but it was still He still knew the area though, because, despite what his students thought, he had been a student at Hammel, once upon a time.

Once he was in the English department, he was poking his head into English classrooms when he realized he had no idea who he was looking for, other than that his last name was Dalton. This was a problem, but easily fixable. The signs on the doors pointed him to the correct classroom, and in a single stride that a western film director would be proud of, he rolled into the door, jumped up, and pointed his fingers around the room like guns. “ALRIGHT, MR. DALTON, I GOT SOME QUESTIONS THAT… need… answered…. And you aren’t here.” The classroom was empty. Jackeroe dropped his hands and looked around, going to far as to peer behind the desk to see if he had perhaps frightened the poor man. Alas, he was not there either.

He left the empty classroom with an aura heavy of failure. Now he would never meet Clarisse’s new beau, and he would have to casually ask her about it and he loathed casually asking her about things. He wanted to be excited, or exciting, or enigmatic. Not… Casual. He shoved his hands in his pockets and was ready to leave when he noticed that there was a man in the English Department office. In a last ditch attempt to find the strange and invisible boyfriend of Clarisse.

Unless he was invisible, and Jackeroe had left the classroom without bothering to look for an invisible man. Oh bugger.

He swung in the doorway, holding onto the frame as he leaned in diagonally. “Scuuuuse me, but do you know a Mr. Dalton and where I can find him?”

[Jacob Dalton]

Oh, the pain of winter break essays! Dalton sighed. The students didn’t want to do them, the teachers didn’t want to read them: but it was all part of the discipline of getting something done regardless of distractions. And an occasional student would create a gem of budding literacy that was a pleasure, and made it all worthwhile. He was a third of the way through the stack: no gems so far, but he could hope.

He looked up at the sound of a raised voice down the corridor, but Dalton couldn’t make out the words. He shrugged and returned to the next essay. Oh, dear: quick note at the top:

Contraction: It’s (“It is:” two words in one)
Possessive: Its (like “his:” “belongs to it”)

He sighed.

<< He swung in the doorway, holding onto the frame as he leaned in diagonally. “Scuuuuse me, but do you know a Mr. Dalton and where I can find him?” >>

Dalton grinned. Discipline be hanged. “Indeed I do! A close personal friend of mine: rather decent chap, as long as he isn’t borrowing my nail clippers or snagging food off my plate: have to talk to him about that again! Would you like an introduction? I daresay I can arrange it. Whom should I say was looking for him?”

(*chuckles* Naw: Dalton isn’t a wee bit bored. Not at all… )

[Jackeroe Connick]

Aha! The infamous Jackeroe Connick had a lead! Soon, he would apprehend this fiend that was dating his best friend slash co-worker slash fashion consultant. Jack was willing to bet money that the wrongdoer didn’t even like Chichi (which, in his book, was a capital offense worthy of an actual slap on the wrist) and didn’t even know Clarisse’s favorite color. (Red! It was red! Ha, he knew it, so the man should too. If not, it was simply unforgivable.)

As the English teacher explained his relationship with this Dalton character, Jackeroe nodded, grinning from ear to ear. He was unaware that he was being duped. If he knew, he would play along, of course, but as it was, he listened intently to the man’s good qualities and faults. A food stealer and nail clipper defiler, eh? Well, Jack would set him on the straight and narrow. No one less than perfect was good enough for Clarisse, in his mind. She deserved nothing short of the absolute perfect man. While Jackeroe knew she had been through a lot, he didn’t know the half of it, and he knew he didn’t know the half of it. In his mind, a woman who had been through a lot deserved a good pampering and nothing less. He had to scout out this man to make sure he was a suitable suitor. Civic duty, and all that.

“I would very much like an arranged introduction. I need to meet him as soon as it’s convenient- no, scratch that, as soon as it’s inconvenient!” Inconvenient was better, it meant that he would catch the man off guard, which meant he would get straight answers instead of lies already set in place because he knew of their meeting. When asked for his name, Jackeroe took the liberty to let go of the door to give an illustrious bow, hand movements and all, to the man. It was the least he could do for his assistance. “I, sir, am Jackeroe Innis Connick, power trainer extraordinaire. And you are? I haven’t seen you around here before, and trust me; I’ve been here for forever.”

Jackeroe took the time to look the man over. He was older than he was, for sure, but not too old. Jackeroe was good at guessing age, so he would guess mid-forties or early fifties. He was aging well. He seemed like a nice guy, too. It hadn’t even crossed the younger male’s man that this could be the Mr. Dalton in question, even though overwhelming evidence told him otherwise; the fact that he hadn’t met him before and that he was in the English department was a dead giveaway. But Jackeroe hadn’t connected the ideas yet, he was busy trying to formulate his questions and his approach to the devious man he was searching high and low for.

[Jacob Dalton]

<< “I would very much like an arranged introduction. I need to meet him as soon as it’s convenient- no, scratch that, as soon as it’s inconvenient!” >>

That perked up Dalton’s attention. This fellow seemed jovial, but there was something afoot here. Unless the fellow were pulling Dalton’s leg? Surely he would have guessed there weren’t likely to be two English gentlemen he hadn’t met, coincidentally hanging about? But this was becoming quite entertaining, and giving him a break from the essays. So...

He leaned forward, a picture of eager curiosity and interest.

“I daresay: you’re looking for ‘inconvenience?’ Wanted to catch him unawares, some little prank? He should be about shortly: needing to get his share of the rent from him, so they don’t kick us out. My flatmate, you understand. Whatever you’ve got planned, I daresay he deserves it, what? How may I assist?”

<< “I, sir, am Jackeroe Innis Connick, power trainer extraordinaire. And you are? I haven’t seen you around here before, and trust me; I’ve been here for forever.” >>

Dalton stood as well, and also took a bow. “A sincere pleasure to meet you, Mr. Connick. As for myself, I am -- ”

He suddenly paused, cocking an ear towards the door, then called out: “Jacob: is that you? Here I am, in the office… ”

He waved Jackeroe back behind the door, finger to his lips.

“Any moment now,” he whispered: “whatever you’ve got set, best do it fast…”

[Jackeroe Connick]

Again, Jackeroe, under different circumstances, would have guessed by this point that he was already talking to Mr. Dalton, but he was far too excitable at the moment to make the connection. Something in the back of his mind suggested the idea, but the worm of doubt was lost in the jumble of thoughts already running through his mind, such as, what should he tell the man about why he wanted to see his friend? “This is no prank, sir. This is very serious business. I need to interrogate him and make sure is a gentleman.” There. That was vague enough that if the man tried to warn his flat mate, he still wouldn’t know what he had coming to him. He already had a bad opinion- along with stealing food and nail clippers, he was late on his rent. Irresponsibility was inexcusable! “If you could bring me to him, that would be great.” And then Jack would drag him off to interrogate him. He’d apologize to Clarisse for it later with a sparkly glow in the dark friendship bracelet as a joke. She’d likely give it to Chichi anyway.

But enough of that! Because, just as the man was about to introduce himself, he stopped and he heard something Jackeroe didn’t- the footsteps of his flat mate! LE GASP! THE PLOT THICKENS! Jackeroe backpedaled, unsure of how much time they had. He pointed to the second door, whispering urgently in case the fiend heard them. “Once he’s in, close it behind him and I’ll come in through this door! Then I’ll have him!” With that, Jack tore out of the room through the door he had come in through, counting on the man to do as he asked. There were only two entrances, so with the help of the unnamed man, he would catch this elusive English professor. (Remember that little worm from earlier? Yeah, the poor thing was killed in the stampede of excitement. Let us mourn…) Jackeroe was also counting on the sound of the shutting door to be his cue. If he missed it, the plan would be ruined. He stood a distance away from the first door, ready to run in to confront his now forsworn enemy.

“Mr. Jacob Dalton, meet your match.” Jackeroe whispered, Preparing himself for his mental barrage of the poor man.

But it was really his fault, because he was dating his best friend.

[Jacob Dalton]

<< “This is no prank, sir. This is very serious business. I need to interrogate him and make sure is a gentleman.” >>

A gentleman? Dalton was starting to get the picture now. Keeping a straight face as Jackeroe was getting more and more wound up was becoming exceedingly difficult. But he managed.

As the other man exited by the side door, Dalton was almost doubling over in silent laughter. One more thought occurred to him; he tiptoed back to the desk and quietly slipped open the drawer. From there he pulled out a plastic toy gun confiscated from one of the students: the kind that shoots suction-cup darts. He had meant to pass this on to Emiko, but hadn’t quite gotten around to it yet.

He tiptoed back to the door. “Jacob! Good of you to come! You do have that check for me, don’t you?”

Toy gun aimed at the second door, he shoved the first door with his foot. It slammed loudly closed.

As the other door opened, he fired. A suction cup dart stuck to the door, about two feet from Jackeroe’s head.

“I believe you were looking for me? Jacob Dalton, at your service.” He now spoke in his normal tone of voice, not the exaggerated accent he had affected while teasing. But his expression retained a very droll smile.

“Perhaps you could explain yourself now? After all,” he said, waving the empty toy in Jackeroe’s direction, “I do have the drop on you…”

[Jackeroe Connick]

As the door slammed, Jackeroe took a deep breath and took off in his western roll again, the darts missing him by a yard, and he had no idea they had been fired. He jumped to his feet in a single fluid motion and had his finger guns drawn. He was all fired up now! There was no stopping him! “ALRIGHT, MR. DLATON, I GOT SOME QUESTIONS THAT NEED ANSWERED- And... You’re...” Jackeroe paused, and held up one finger, looking at the man, then to the closed door, and then to the toy gun in the man’s hand. “Hold the phone.” He looked to the door behind him and to the darts sticking out of it and his jaw dropped. “You… You tried to shoot me!” He said; pointing to the door like it had been embedded with bullets, not sticky darts, one of which fell off to the floor. As the man introduced himself, Jackeroe’s head was still reeling. So, wait, he had been tricked? How? He should’ve known! It was then that he connected the pieces and he couldn’t help it, he slapped his forehead in frustration. Of course. God, he was dense.

There was a moment of silence as Jackeroe reassessed the situation. Okay, so, this guy was Jacob Dalton. He could deal with that. Nothing was going to stop him. This was just a minor setback, that’s all. “Alright, Mr. Dalton, otherwise formerly known as ‘the-guy-trying-to-help-me-out’, I see that you are indeed a clever man. Riddle me this, then...” He pointed at him. “Are you, or are you not, dating Clarisse Prideaux?!” If there were background music there would certainly be a ‘DUN DUN DUNNNN’ in the background at that very moment.

“Because if you are, you and me, we have to have a talk. Man to man. Right now. But if not... Then I’m still going to have a talk with you about shooting people, because that’s just outright dangerous behavior right there.” ...This was coming from the man who had rolled into the room like he was in an action film and still had one hand shaped like a finger gun. And he was lecturing on outright dangerous behavior? He let loose a smile, because he wasn’t sure if Dalton was a serious guy or a joker like him (he was assuming a joker due to prior events, but he’d been wrong before) so he wanted to assure him that this was mostly in good fun, except for the part concerning Clarisse.

That was serious business.

[Jacob Dalton]

<< “ALRIGHT, MR. DALTON, I GOT SOME QUESTIONS THAT NEED ANSWERED- And... You’re...” Jackeroe paused, and held up one finger, looking at the man, then to the closed door, and then to the toy gun in the man’s hand. “Hold the phone.” >>

Dalton maintained a diffident expression while watching the man’s antics with barely restrained amusement. As with students, he was watching for that moment when the light bulb went on overhead.

<< He looked to the door behind him and to the darts sticking out of it and his jaw dropped. “You… You tried to shoot me!”He said; pointing to the door like it had been embedded with bullets, not sticky darts… >>

“And you tried to ambush me. Don’t deny it: I overheard the entire sordid conspiracy.”

The deadpan look was getting harder and harder to maintain. How he was not literally rolling on the floor was almost beyond him.

<< “Alright, Mr. Dalton, otherwise formerly known as ‘the-guy-trying-to-help-me-out’, I see that you are indeed a clever man. Riddle me this, then...”He pointed at him. “Are you, or are you not, dating Clarisse Prideaux?!” >>

As he had figured. The word “gentleman” had been a solid clue.

“Since you ask, Mr. Nygma, I am in fact guilty as charged. Should our relationship continue as splendidly as it has to date, I hope my sentence will be for life.

“May I inquire as to the source of your interest in the matter?”

<< “Because if you are, you and me, we have to have a talk. Man to man. Right now. But if not... Then I’m still going to have a talk with you about shooting people, because that’s just outright dangerous behavior right there.” >>

“As shall I with you regarding the unsanitary practice of rolling across this floor without proper gloves and headgear. Do you realize how many students' feet traipse through here each day? Or where teenagers’ feet have been previously? Roll on one room’s floor, you might as well have rolled on every floor its previous tenants have walked on: surely you’ve heard that before?”

<< He let loose a smile, because he wasn’t sure if Dalton was a serious guy or a joker like him… >>

Holding it in until now had been nigh on impossible. Seeing the grin creeping up on Jackeroe’s face, though, was the final straw. Dalton chuckled, broke into a grin, a laugh, a guffaw and finally a full, all-out belly laugh. It was a good three minutes before he was able to stop, compose himself and take a seat, wiping the laugh tears from his eyes.

“Quite rich, good sir! Now: where and how shall we have this chat? May I suggest over coffee in the teacher’s lounge?”

[Jackeroe Connick]

Sentence for life? Seriously? This brought his interrogation to a whole new level. Dating Clarisse was one thing, being her life partner was a totally different option that Jackeroe had to consider. This guy needed to slow down. Like, now. He could not process all this information at once. He lowered the finger gun at his question, finally, and scratched the back of his head. “She’s a good friend of mine, and she’s a great lady and, ya’ know. I don’t want her going through more trouble. She’s been through a lot.”

Jackeroe had once contemplated the idea of dating Clarisse- he knew she wanted kids and with his power suppression he could probably soothe her fears of killing a child in the process of birth. He had realized that while talking to her one day, but he had never told her that. The thought alone kept him up late in contemplation. He hadn’t taken it to the next level, though- he didn’t think he would’ve been good enough for her. Besides, she liked older men- it was evident by the man standing in front of him.

Jackeroe took a moment to take a good look at the floor and he dusted himself off. He straightened his jacket and shrugged. “Well, I’ve rolled on worse. Country life and all that.” There had been more than one occasion as a child when he had hopped on one foot across the living room to the bathroom because the bottom of the lifted shoe had some form of feces on it- cow, dog, deer, and occasionally some raccoon. “Besides, I trust these kids to be fairly clean by the time they get all the way here, right?” If not, he had to figure out the state of the dorms.

Once he smiled, all hell broke loose. Dalton started laughing, and that triggered Jackeroe’s laughter, and anyone passing would assume a fleet of Kookaburra’s had somehow made their way into the English office, with all the guffawing between the two of them. Jackeroe couldn’t stop laughing until Dalton did; any time he tried he looked at the other man and cracked up again. He felt his sides hurt and his laughter subsided into snickers. He leaned up against the door, arms crossed. Maybe he wasn’t too bad after all. “Coffee for you, maybe. I’ll have some of my tea.” The Arizona Tea in the refrigerator was strictly his, the whole drawer of it. Almost everyone knew; the sharpied on ‘JACKEROE’ kind of gave it away. “After you, sir.”

[Jacob Dalton]

<< He could not process all this information at once. He lowered the finger gun at his question, finally, and scratched the back of his head.“She’s a good friend of mine, and she’s a great lady and, ya’ know. I don’t want her going through more trouble. She’s been through a lot.” >>

Dalton could see his affirmation of a longer term interest had hit a mark. Perhaps he had overstated things a bit, but he had both been caught up in the banter of the moment, and felt the need to know which issue concerned the other gentleman: the thought that Dalton’s intentions might be dishonorable, or that they might interfere with intentions of his own. The look on Jackeroe’s face and his heartfelt affirmation said it plainly: this wasn’t selfish jealousy, but the concern of a true friend. He twirled the toy gun once around his finger, then set it down on the desk. The "pop" of another suction cup dart falling from the door made him glance over: he would have to remember to put away his toys tonight.

“In truth, I will tell you that so far I know little of what she has been through. But I know in a dozen ways where she stands now. Only time will tell whether our paths lie together or apart: but rest assured, I have no intention of doing anything to bring this lady to sorrow.”

He hoped Jackeroe could recognize Dalton’s sincerity, just as he perceived Jackeroe’s. But he was slightly concerned over Jakeroe’s powers of observation and reasoning.

<< Jackeroe took a moment to take a good look at the floor and he dusted himself off. He straightened his jacket and shrugged. “Well, I’ve rolled on worse. Country life and all that.”

“Besides, I trust these kids to be fairly clean by the time they get all the way here, right?” >>

Dalton had hoped the young man would catch on to his off-the-cuff satire of the standard lecture on promiscuity without protection, but the straightforthness of the man’s answers left that in doubt. Dalton had no wish either to be cruel or to generate animosity, but he knew how patronizing he might seem should he attempt to explain the joke.

“Perhaps there is less reason for concern than I suggested. You know us British chaps: a wee bit fixated on personal hygiene.”

Perhaps letting the matter drop there could save some embarrassment: Dalton hoped so.

<< Jackeroe couldn’t stop laughing until Dalton did; any time he tried he looked at the other man and cracked up again. He felt his sides hurt and his laughter subsided into snickers…

“Coffee for you, maybe. I’ll have some of my tea.”

“After you, sir.” >>

“Certainly. But half a moment to clean up...”

Dalton straightened himself, gathered the darts, locked away his papers and the toy gun, and joined Jackeroe as they headed down the hall.

“So: I take it you have been around a while. How is it that we have not run into each other before now?”

(Care to continue here, or shall we switch to the teacher’s lounge?)