Light My Way

[Existentially Odd]

When he heard the knock - even though he was expecting it - Tom flinched and spun to face the front door in a whirl.  He\'d been pacing about the house for the hour since the sun had gone down, excited because tonight would be the beginning of the next phase for his property.  Once this step was achieved, he would only have to buy a bit more furniture - currently only the master bedroom had any, and even that was minimal (a king-sized bed and two bedside drawers filled with his only other purchases in the three months he\'d been in the city - sex toys) - and then he could call Reed and make his grand presentation.

Being without his buddy had become like an internal itch no finger could scratch, the longer they were separated.  He would be greatly relieved to end the torture of having no-one meaningful or desperately interesting in his existence to brighten it.  His thoughts had followed this track - and a more serious one that led off the conclusions he was hesitant to draw - more often in the last month and he anticipated that they wouldn\'t abate until he voiced them.  That would come in time, of course.

How much time depended entirely on the young woman on the other side of his door at that very moment.  As soon as the last refurbishment crew had pulled out of the house two nights ago, he\'d called her, requesting a meeting as soon as possible and not telling her who he was.  This was the first early evening appointment she\'d had free and he\'d been practically gnashing his teeth to get started ever since the date had been set.  Now that she was finally here... shit, he was standing in the middle of the lounge room like a complete fuckwit!

As if suddenly prodded by an electric charge from a stun gun, he sprang forward and pulled the door open - managing to look more casual in the process than he felt, thankfully.  He didn\'t let it reach its full range, holding the thick, metal-imbued object in his right hand instead, left hand resting on the jamb with his body leaned towards it.  He\'d been tempted to greet her naked - just for old time\'s sake - but had decided that that wouldn\'t set the appropriate standard of his expectations.  Their relationship would be completely professional this time \'round... he therefore wore ripped jeans so old they were practically white and a simple, blue cotton T-shirt, no shoes, no shades; nothing fancy whatsoever (he didn\'t count as important the fact that the shirt clung lovingly to every muscle beneath its soft surface or that it brought out the blue in his eyes).

"Hello, Nimm," he greeted, smiling genuinely as he indulged in giving her a quick once-over.  "How have you been?"

[Harlequin]

The handygirl had been looking down at her little black book – just to make sure she\'d gotten the address right – when he came to the door.

"Oh!" Was her first response, when she jerked her head up, and she said it again, in exactly the same way, as she recognized the man at the door. She hadn\'t honestly expected ever to see him again, after their first sordid encounter, but she recovered nicely from the shock, even managing an answer. "I\'ve been alive," she told him, smiling lopsidedly, "And yourself? I understand you have some lighting issues."

Nimm certainly couldn\'t see the way the shirt brought out the blue in his eyes, but she could appreciate the sleek musculature underneath. She didn\'t, but it was nice to have one\'s options open.

She had the same lime green workshirt on, and the same scuffed black workboots, but this time the jeans had an astounding amount of holes in them. And of course, there was the red toolbox.

She slid the black book into her breast pocket and removed the ever-present purple chopstick from a back pocket, using it to twist up her hair in one smooth motion.

[Existentially Odd]

He chuckled, resisting the urge to confess that he hadn\'t actually been alive, but that his existence was going quite well, regardless, and only answered her statement.

"I do, indeed," he agreed, and held the door open for her.  He was a bit devious as he did this, for he didn\'t move back - just grabbed the top of the door and pushed it wider, so that she would have to walk in between him and it, contacting him - but, oddly, it had been an instinctual move.  Despite wanting a professional relationship, it seemed that, deep down, he still wanted some contact with her.

"This is my new place and I called you because I believe you can help me achieve some good lighting effects.  No, not \'good\', stunning," he corrected himself, gushing in his enthusiasm to start, while he waited for her to get inside and see what they had to work with.  Every room only had a standard light fixture - the lounge had a very tacky chandelier style set of three bulbs on a metal frame, but it was all very basic otherwise.

[Harlequin]

She slid past him with characteristic grace and poise, and again she couldn\'t help but notice the coolness of his skin, even beneath the clothing. For tact\'s sake, however, she refrained from mentioning it. Plus, she had more important things to attend to. Like earning a living.

"Mmm," she replied to the compliment, gaze fixed to the ceiling. Setting her toolbox on the carpet, she wandered absently from room to room, talking as she went.

"This isn\'t a problem," she told him, trusting that he was following – if only to admire the gaping hole in tha back of her jeans, which beautifully showcased the place where the back of her left thigh became her ass,  "It\'s a disaster, aesthetically. And I\'m sure the wiring\'s no better. Have you ordered any parts?" She paused, turning to look at him with those fucked-up eyes, once she\'d given the horribly tacky chandelier the once-over, "If not, that\'s alright. i have the necesarry equipment close at hand –" She always did, " – But in any case, I think it\'s safe to say that this will take all night, at least."

[Existentially Odd]

He\'d closed the door and followed after her - spending only the briefest of moments admiring that window to loveliness in her pants, before walking around so that he could be face to face with her (ducking under the low-hanging light fixture in order to do so).  He grinned but it faded as she walked away, inspecting things.

Obediently, he trailed after her, not quite sure what she was thinking - until she declared the lighting an aesthetic disaster - but interjecting his own comments as they moved around all the empty space, saying: [FONT="]"You... do understand that I want you to work on a vision for the entire house?  No, I haven\'t ordered any parts," raising his eyebrows and waving his hands about uselessly.

He watched her nod, then continued. "It doesn\'t matter how much it costs, either, or what you want to prder or change or... drill holes in. Obviously, all the floors and painting\'s just been redone," he pointed out, fully aware of the pungent - but somehow reassuring, to him - aromas of both, "so I\'d like you to fit in with the colours etcetera, but otherwise I want you to do what you would do, if it was your own home and you had an unlimited budget."  [/FONT]He looked at her proudly, as if he\'d just handed her the birthday present he felt she\'d always wanted.

Something about her panties stirred in the back of his mind... but he wasn\'t sure why and he dismissed it before it could bother him too greatly. He had a habit of only remembering what he deemed important and since he was doing his utmost to employ her not fuck her, he didn\'t think her panties were relevant.

When she finally came to a stop and declared that it would take all night, he was flabbergasted - just one night?  Had he heard her correctly?  Perhaps it was just wishful thinking - instantly, Reed and how he hadn\'t been in touch with him for months came to mind. He\'d wanted this house done right but... it had been frustrating that months had already lapsed, to say the least.

"The whole house\'s lights?  Redone in one night?  Are you kidding me?  You already know that quickly - after just one walk through - what you want to do - and you have all the supplies?" he gushed, not daring to hope things would go so quickly - though, of course, he had other demands she had yet to hear about.  He waited for her reaction to his flurry of questions before he elaborated on the more... delicate features of his intended operation.

[Harlequin]

"All night at least," she repeated patiently, "Maybe into the morning, though generally I call it quits at four. I would come back tomorrow evening to finish, if it\'s not inconvenient for you." Nimm was one of the very few maintenance people who worked after dark at all, preferring to have the daylight hours to herself.

"I\'m a professional," she told him, smiling that gentle smile of hers, as if that explained everything.

"I\'ll have to go home to get some things, and take a polaroid, have a friend match colors with what I have there, but that shouldn\'t take more than an hour." She walked past him again as she talked, motioning for him to follow her back into the living room, where she\'d set down her toolbox, Then, crouching down, she popped the locks on said toolbox and removed an ancient Polaroid camera from it\'s dark, neatly organized recesses. Nimm hadn\'t reminded him that she was colorblind, seeing no point in it. The information was, at this point, irrelevant.

"Is this sounding alright to you, so far?" she queried, head tilted as she rose to her feet.

[Existentially Odd]

His mouth flapped a little, honestly surprised into speechlessness for... possibly the first time ever.  Eventually he found his tongue.  "Yes!  Yes, that\'s sounding fantastic but... uh... there\'s more," he told her almost sheepishly and walked slowly over to the nearest boxed-in window - which was the one right beside the front door.  He rapped it with his knuckles.

"I have some... more interesting requests," he said, tasting his words and allowing a grin through.  "These panels cover every window in the house.  I... hate sunlight.  And I\'m away a lot.  So I was kind of thinking I\'d like some security and... instead of paying some company to watch an empty house, would it be possible to rig some lights inside these boxes?  Maybe... connect them to a computer so that they randomly turn on and off and... well, rig something up so that it looks like a person walks past the window sometimes?  They all open!" he assured her, proving the point by pressing the back panel.  With a soft click, the broad expanse of wood flicked towards him slightly and he was able to release it from its latch to swing it open - it moved over the carpet easily enough and must have been expertly constructed, for it came within a breath of the ceiling but didn\'t touch it.  Inside was a normal window - clean and freshly paint with a lacy curtain hanging over it - and a small space about a foot deep (he\'d figured that would be enough space to rig some lights into, so they all had that much room).

"And I\'d like some video cameras installed," he added hastily, figuring he might as well spill everything now.  "Do you... know anyone that can... do that?"

[Harlequin]

Incredibly impressed by this new gadget, she placed the camera delicately on the floor, "I could do it," she said absently, as she inspected the mechanism. Quite simple, yet brilliant in that simplicity, "Very good work," she murmured, "I\'d just have to get someone else to write the program for the computers. I\'d think it would be relatively simple – maybe just time consuming, depending on how many windows there are."

She stepped back from the window, viewing the whole setup from afar, "That could take some serious time, though, if you don\'t want wires all over your house. Well, it doesn\'t really matter, if you didn\'t care, I couldn\'t deal with doing such messy work. Basically, I\'d have to break open some of your nicely redone sheetrock, unless..." She trailed off, approaching the window again. "I suppose you could use something akin to a car battery. Four ninevolts, each attached to a soft-light bulb, those will last up to say, three years. They could easily be attached to a timer, and you wouldn\'t have to worry about the computerization, so much. I suppose you could get a more high-tech timer, to make it more randomized – but as for the whole people-in-front of the windo illusion? I\'m not so sure about that." She stepped back again, holding her chin.

[Existentially Odd]

Listening intently to her, he was completely enraptured by her authoritative words and pleased that he\'d had the foresight to call her.  She was perfect for the job.

"I don\'t really like the sound of car batteries all over the house.  I\'m definitely a fan of the wires, but you could either connect everything to the electricity in the basement, through the floor, or straight up to the ceiling, couldn\'t you?  You shouldn\'t have to go through any walls," he pointed out, thinking that if there were exposed wires inside the neat little cabinets he\'d had made over the windows, so what?  No-one would ever see them.  He also believed it wouldn\'t be a difficult thing to connect everything to a power source in the basement - the ceiling cavity could be a bit trickier.

"Now, there are," he paused to count up windows in his head, got confused because he didn\'t think all would need lights, then decided they would, so he started talking it through, counting up on his fingers. "Let\'s see; three windows in here in the lounge - and even though I know there are like, six actual windows in the bank, I just count it as one, you know what I mean?  One in the dining room, one in the kitchen, one in the first spare room, two in the other, one in the toilet and one in both the bathrooms.  Oh, and one in my room.  So that\'s twelve that need lights but I was only thinking maybe the dining, the kitchen... this lounge window that faces the street and that one that faces the back yard... and my bedroom would need the movement feature.  Those are the most \'lived in\' places in the house.  If it can be done," he conceded, immediately contemplating hunting down some geeks.  Surely someone would be able to program a little puppet thing to cross in front of a light bulb - the shadow would be thrown larger and do the job, in his opinion.

[Harlequin]

She nodded thoughfully, "True enough," she said, "But these windows are pretty much flush with the wall, so there\'s no place to access any central power source but through the wala. You go in through the window frame, and it\'s...exceedingly difficult." She frowned, tilting her head to one side, "Well. Maybe not. I\'ll find a way." She smiled benignly, "I can get it all wired and set up, but you\'ll have to find someone else to write the program. I hate computers," She confided the last bit as an aside. Then, nodding her satisfaction, she looked to him again, "Alright, i think we\'ve got this covered."

Turning, she picked up the camera, and took a few Polaroids of the lounge room and the kitchen, setting them out on the carpet to dry while she packed the camera away again.

"It\'s a lovely house," she said, making conversation while the ink on the photos dried. It wouldn\'t take more than five minutes, and then she\'d be gone for – as she\'d said, perhaps an hour – but it was a true thing, and she thought maybe he would appreciate the compliment.

[Existentially Odd]

He didn\'t pay much attention to her compliment, because he wasn\'t sure she was getting his drift with the lights - why would they need to be connected to the windows at all?  His opinion was that the farther away the lights were from the glass and curtains, the better they would be.

"The windows are in the wall," he corrected, wondering what she meant by pretty much flush with, "but I figured the lights would just have to be... sitting on the floor in this space here, wouldn\'t they? Or even at the top of the covers?  I mean, the idea is to make it look like someone\'s home and the ceiling light is on - I admit, co-ordinating the angle and degree of brightness with a collection of lights that are supposed to be coming from the one light source will be tricky, but... it should be possible. It has to be, really; the windows are covered over.  People will think there\'s never anyone home and it\'s safe to rob the place, if they never see light leaking out," he laughed breathily, really wanting this to work out.  "I hope we\'ve got it covered - I like the place too, but my main goal is to create some cool effects to impress my buddy into staying."

He blinked in surprise at the declaration.  He hadn\'t meant to say that at all.  He couldn\'t even fathom where it had come from!  To distract himself, he pressed the back of the window covering back into place - the clever  latches used to do this were a new thing he\'d been told by the carpenter. They were commonly used in sliding doors that could be locked into a wall recess until, with a light push, the catch that had held them would release and pop them forward enough to be pulled out.  Tom had liked the idea simply because the huge window boxes had no visible handles or latches, meaning they blended in with the walls that much easier.

He grinned as he put his hands on his hips and looked at her.  "I suppose I\'ll have to hunt down some geeks, after all."

[Harlequin]

"Yes, right, that\'s what I was thinking, I just have to figure out what kind of bulb to use" She nodded thoughtfully, eyes narrow, "Your buddy, hmm?" She managed to tear her gaze away from the barely-seen window box in order to look him in the face.

Chuckling, she shook her head, and bent down to collect up the now- developed photos, sticking them in a back pocket, "Well, looks like I\'ll see you in an hour, Tom," She smiled benignly at him, tipping an imaginary hat as she walked out the door.

[Existentially Odd]

He blinked - inanely pleased, in a deeply-buried, secret part of himself, that she\'d remembered his name - and then, after a moment of standing uselessly, took off after her.
 
"Wait!" he called as he got to the top of the porch stairs. "I should come with you. Two of us can organise things much faster than one - can carry more, too. Plus, if you need anything, there are still supply stores open and we can start shopping straight away," he said as he walked up to her, seeing his plan as faultless and hers as just... well, silly.
 
What else would he do with his time while she was gone? This was all he was able to think about and he felt he\'d be far more useful hefting heavy lights or carrying things along aisles while she pointed and dictated what should be picked up next, than sitting on his bed staring at a wall and contemplating where he\'d find someone interested enough in computers to program puppets for him. Now that things were underway and she was so... so... adept at what she was doing, he couldn\'t possibly sit still. He had to be doing something!
 
He could also make sure she wasn\'t out of pocket by divulging some of his ill-gotten gains straight up. It wasn\'t as if he\'d ever bothered spending much of the fortune he\'d accrued by killing people or electronically stealing funds by pilfering mortal\'s passwords from their minds up to this point. He was very frugal in that sense (even though he technically had an unlimited supply available to him). The house and everything that had gone towards it - and still would go to that end - wasn\'t even one dimple in a golf ball, compared to the amount of money he still had languishing in his accounts, but he had the opinion that he should always be careful with it. He\'d seen careless vampires fritter fortunes away on insipid mortals in next to no time and never planned to be one of them.
 
Hanging out with high flyers that owned their own planes and exotic holiday homes all over the world was another way he\'d quickly learned would keep his fortune in good stead; they tended not to pay too much attention to how or where or by whom their money was spent, when they had so much to give.
 
"I don\'t really need you to run yourself ragged on this in one night, you know. I was fully prepared for you to just... come round and work when you could, for a few hours at a time. Quality is far more important to me than haste," he assured her, offering her a no-holds-barred, full wattage, primo-dimple-display smile of persuasion.
 
Hell, the gutting and refurbishing had taken twice as long as expected - waiting for things to dry was such a useless waste of time, in his opinion - and he\'d always considered that the accessoring afterwards would match in time wastage what had already been accomplished. If not exceeded it. Drilling holes and creating new light wells would surely involve similar procedures (he had a tin of each of the paints used inside the house sitting in the garage, should any patch jobs need to be undertaken)?

[Harlequin]

She blinked in suprise, turning when he spoke, only to see him coming up the walk toward her, "Well, uhm. Yes, well." Obviously surprised, she gathered her wits with a shake of her head.

He certainly was the hands-on type, to say the least. She\'d never had a client request something so elaborate, and then offer to help her out with it, and she\'d never expected it to happen.

Nimm just couldn\'t wrap her brain around this one. But that smile was very pretty,and his lips were – wait, what? No. There were things to be done. Much more important and interesting things.

"Absolutely," she said, letting a smile of her own creep across her face again, "There\'s no way I could get all of this –" she waved a hand at the house behind him, "But I don\'t see any reason you can\'t come along. I have to stop at my apartment to get some things, first. So maybe you can pick out what you want so far as aesthetics go, and I\'ll meet you there when I\'m done at home? It shouldn\'t take more than twenty minutes." The hardware store itself was very close to hand, and she could tell him where to go, if need be, since she practically lived there when she wasn\'t working, out with friends, or asleep.

[Existentially Odd]

"Aesthetics?" he repeated, at a loss. Did he even know what she meant by that? He didn\'t believe so but he guessed he could do as she suggested and... head to a store and look at lights while he waited for her to assess her stocks. It would probably screw with what her vision was - and he had complete faith in that vision, even though he didn\'t know for the details of it - but he could certainly look around and find things he liked.
 
After agreeing and getting directions to where she wished to meet him (for he still didn\'t have a clue what was where in this city - except for the nightclub named Risk), he waved her off and jogged inside the house, locking the front door behind him. He then located his wallet, keys and phone, before pulling on his new leather riding jacket and heading to the garage.
 
His other new purchase lived here; a sleek example of the finest sport motorbike money could buy - in a vibrant shade of metallic blue. He and Reed has always said that if ever they bought a bike it would be this one and... truthfully, he\'d bought it with his friend in mind, anticipating that he\'d use it to pick him up from the airport, at some point in the not-too-distant future. The matching helmet on the shelf beside his - identical in design but its highlights were yellow, rather than blue... and it was also Reed\'s skull size - attested to this fact.
 
He zipped up his jacket carefully, uneffected by the fact that the extra padding on the arms made his shoulders look exceptionally broad and the form-fitting waist rode his hips so snugly that his waist looked impossibly narrow. It was predominantly black in colour, with some blue lining and mesh panels for highlighting, sporting a high collar and many clips to hold the bits that closed - like the lapel that covered the zip - down in the face of strong, oncoming wind. When he rode, the wind was always strong in coming at him, for he wasn\'t nearly as concerned with speed limits as he should have been.
 
He left the garage very quickly after Nimm had exited the driveway, the automatic garage door rolling quietly closed behind him. He was at the hardware store she\'d directed him to in another two minutes, parking near the front entrance, switching off the bike and carrying his helmet with him. As he walked into the enormous, warehouse-like building, his pace slowed considerably, his hand preoccupied with unclipping the snap over his throat and lowering his jacket\'s zip a little.
 
Holy fuck, he hadn\'t expected anything like what he was seeing. The store seemed to have everything from screwdrivers to sand... and all that might reside in between! As well as that boded for his choice of potential lighting fixtures, it didn\'t look promising for his finding his way around in any kind of efficient manner. He therefore latched onto the first person he saw - a bored-looking middle aged woman who seemed to be stationed near the entranceway purely to greet and farewell customers - and asked for directions. He didn\'t really care that he\'d interrupted her welcome speech, or that he got a frown of disapproval for his efforts, because she still told him where to go (to find lights).
 
Once there, he meandered his way around the entire lighting department with his hand hooked through the visor section of his helmet, trying to imagine every kind of bulb or cover in various rooms of his house. He was impressed that they had neon lights. He liked neon, though supposed it would look tacky in his bedroom (still, he entertained the thought of something pink and flashy pointing towards his bed just because he couldn\'t contain his glee at the thought of it), and eventually forced himself to wander on.
 
Despite his subliminal desire for gaudy, he knew that the house would have to be presented in the best taste possible for it to really impress, so he\'d definitely decided on the sleekest style of lights in teh store by the time Nimm had arrived. They happened to be the most expensive, but that didn\'t faze him.  He was bent over, inspecting one such display of recessed lights designed to be installed in multiples into a ceiling, when he heard her speak. He straightened and looked at her, sporting a charming smile that proved he was glad to see her again. He really was out of his depth.