Good to the Last Drop

Posted on Sat Jun 30th, 2012 @ 8:36pm by Ignatius Reilly & Jackson Banning V & Cassidy Wilde

Mission: Sections of the Delta Quadrant
Location: Jackson Banning's Office

* * * Jackson’s Office - The Nexus Club * * *


Jackson returned from his visit with Natalia with his mind in a whirl - well, an even bigger whirl than it was before, which was saying a hell of a lot. He was suddenly wishing he had kept his big mouth shut when he commented that his life was never dull. Dull sounded really good right now. Reaching down into his bottom drawer, he pulled out a bottle of Banning Reserve Bourbon and a short, heavy glass, which he poured a hefty dollop of the bourbon into.

“Well, here’s mud in yer eye,” he commented to no one in particular and took a drink.

Silently, the Station’s resident webslinger dropped from the ceiling on an anchorline and stopped just in front of Jackson. She was a touch tipsy from her intentional beer bath in the Admiral’s quarters, but she could sling web just fine. Hanging by a thread, she stretched one leg towards him and demanded, What the fuck does that even mean?

Jackson yelped and bourbon splashed over Iggy. “Jeeeeezus Iggy, would you cut that shit out?” Belatedly her thought settled in. “You said fuck.”

You did not answer my fucking question, Iggy said and dropped the rest of the way to Jackson’s desk. There, she proceeded to clean herself of the liquid he’d just doused her with. It was not as agreeable as beer. What is this shit?

“Shit? I’ll have you know this is some of my family’s best bourbon. And...ahh....be careful there Iggs, there’s a lot of alcohol in that. A lot more than the beer you smell like you took a bath in.” He grinned at her. “As for your question, ‘here’s mud in yer eye’ is an old drinking toast. Though in your case, it would be eyes. Hmm, I wonder if that means you gotta drink more....”

Beer is better. Has more fizz to it, Iggy asserted and shook herself the way a wet dog might, shaking the bourbon off her hair. I most likely should not have more. The Admiral gave me a bowl of beer and a conundrum to cogitate upon, namely the curious custom of cursing.

“Aww, honey, you came to the right place for that. It’s a curse-worthy night if ever there was one.” He finished off the bourbon and poured himself a little more. “Would you prefer more beer?”

You have beer, too? Awe resounded in Iggy’s tone. I was not aware you were as well-supplied as the Admiral.

Jackson laughed out loud and stood, moving over to a small cooler in the wall. He opened it and removed a brown bottle, a Bajoran brew, then replicated a small dish. Returning to the desk, he placed the dish before her and filled it, then sat back down.

“Iggy, this is a bar. We have just about every type of alcohol known to man, alien, and arachnid. And since we’re toastin’, here’s one.” He took a sip and then spoke again. “Here’s to you and here’s to me. If ever we should disagree, to hell with you, here’s to me.” He raised his glass and emptied it.

Oralia told me Vulcans are weird, but I think she forgot to tell me that all male bipeds are weird, too. The spider moved to the dish of beer and put one tarsus in, then sucked the appendage clean. This is interesting. Different from the one the Admiral has given me. After a moment, she dipped her fangs into the brew and sucked in a stomach-full of the liquid. Why is tonight a curse-worthy night?

“It’s from Bajor, where Sulan comes from.” He eyed her a moment and smiled again. “Glad ya like it. You tell me first why cursin’ is on your mind. Tryin’ to broaden yer horizons a little? You wanna do that, maybe we should find a nice friendly guy spider for ya.”

There are males on the station; I have smelt them in certain areas. When I am ready, I will seek one out, take his sperm offering and eat him, just as Oralia and Li should have done. Mating was black and white for the spider: get the sperm, eat the donor. No drama, no angst, no worrying whether he’d be around to be a bad influence on the kids or not. Cursing is on my mind because Doctor Harding used the phrase ‘what the hell’ then, when I used it, Oz’s minion told me not to.

Jackson coughed as he tried to swallow more bourbon and pounded himself on the chest. “Oz and Li should have....no...wait I don’t wanna go there Iggy.” He really had no interest in hearing about Oz’s sex life. Li? Well she was so reserved that the idea of her and Vulcan sex was so far out of his realm of understanding, it didn’t even nudge at him. The idea that they did...well....he believed in unicorns too, but he didn’t have to see one, though they were just as rare.

“So why did he tell you not to? Or was he afraid you’d use the words without really knowin’ where you should and shouldn’t?”

Oz’s minion taught me ‘fuck’ and ‘shit’ and did not appreciate it when I used the words. The Admiral taught me more and then had the computer read a list to me. That was instructional. She paused to sip more beer. And a bit boring. But now I know what an asshat is.

“Yeah, so do I darlin’. Had one visit me twice the last day or so. So, to what do I owe the pleasure of yer company?” Perhaps it was the bourbon, but at least this time he felt more relaxed around her, even though he detested spiders as a general rule. Then again, spiders didn’t usually talk to him. Thank God.

Oralia has referred to you as a biped who knows much. If she values you for your advice, then I reasoned I should, too. Is busy, the Admiral, so I come to you for more information on cursing. Her syntax was starting to decline, a sign that the beer was having an effect.

“Alrighty then, what ya wanna know?” He took another sip of the bourbon and was glad to note the tension of the night was beginning to ease. Time to slow down. “Can I ask ya somehtin’ first though?”

Ask away, biped! Iggy gestured with a leg, flicking beer towards Jackson. Behind her, a small puff of broken wind stirred.

“Holy shit, Iggy!” He fanned the air between them. “What did you eat with that beer?”

My usual food: a cockroach, slowly marinated in digestive fluids. Tasty. You should try some sometime. Was that your question?

“Might wanna stick to a lighter meal if yer gonna be drinkin’.” Jackson wiped his watering eyes. “Anyhow...how’s Oz doin’ these days? I haven’t talked to her in a while now.”

She is busy. I rarely see her lately, except, of course, when she comes home and sleeps. She has much on her mind: her mate’s absence, her duties as overseer of the station, her loss of hair. Even I seem to be a source of worry for her, though I am unsure why. Leaving that musing in the air, she dipped into the beer again. Call upon her, you should.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Iggs. It’s complicated.”

I do not know why she worries about me; I am just another molt or two away from being a full adult, Iggy lamented and sank down onto the desk slightly.

“You’re gonna get bigger?” He added more bourbon to his glass as he looked at Iggy, trying to imagine that, then decided it was better not to. “Would you tell her hello for me when she gets back to the station?”

I will, to both questions. Iggy bobbed on the desk slightly, her version of the bipeds’ nod.

There was a knock at the door a moment before a female voice with a similar accent on the other side called out, “Knock knock. Ya busy in there?”

Iggy turned to look at the door and started cleaning the beer foam off her fangs.

“That’s Cass, she works here now. Come on in,” he called out. “Now, you were askin’ about cursin’ Iggy. Fire away. With yer question, that is. No more spider farts.”

When is it appropriate to use fuck? Iggy asked, ignoring his jibe about her passing gas.

“Well, in polite or formal company, never. For example, the Admiral or me or Oz? When we’re relaxin’ it’s fine. Now if it’s in public, it would be seen as disrespectful to the Admiral. Some people find it offensive too. And I suppose when ya get around to findin’ that male spider, that’s okay too.”

Cassidy came sweeping in and closed the door behind her. Crossing the room, she caught part of what he was saying, but wondered who he was talking to. A few feet from the desk, she paused, her nose wrinkling. Someone’s dinner didn’t agree with them. It would be rude to comment on it, but good lawd...the smell!

Glancing to see if he was on a comm call, she frowned. “Am I interruptin’ somethin’? Who are ya talkin’ to?” Coming closer, she noticed something large on his desk. It looked like a...giant spider. No, scratch that. A big ass tarantula. It was the most life-like fake spider she had ever seen. She almost snorted and half giggled. “Plannin’ on pullin’ a practical joke on someone?”

Shifting back to look at Jackson, Iggy nearly knocked her beer over and hurriedly grabbed the dish with both front legs to keep it right-side up. This time when she spoke, she included Cassidy in the conversation, What is a ‘practical joke’? When is a joke ever practical?

Cass’ eyes widened and she jumped in place, much like a horse that spooks but doesn’t bolt. “What the...?” fuck, she managed to cut her spoken words off, but finished it in her head. Clearing her throat, she looked at Jackson then back to the ginormous tarantula. “That thing is real?” she asked, slowly coming closer.

“Yes. Cass, meet Iggy. Iggy, this is Cassidy Wilde, the new hostess here at the club.” Jackson watched Cass a moment in case she decided to faint. “How’s the closing up going?”

Now with beer foam on her fangs again, Iggy turned to regard Cassidy. You used the word ‘fuck’. A tilt of her head indicated the next was for Jackson, We are not polite company, are we?

Cass blinked, then narrowed her eyes. You heard my...yeah...I did. Dammit. Shaking her head, she came up to the side of the desk and leaned down for a closer look. How did one go about greeting an intelligent spider? One with big fangs and wading in...beer?

“Um...pleased to make your acquaintance, Iggy.” Good Lord, this was a first. Should she offer to shake one of its legs or what?

Nice to meet you as well, Cassidy, Iggy held up one leg, looked at it before putting it back down. The movement caused another puff of broken wind to sally forth behind her. Completely unperturbed by having passed gas again, she added, The biped manner of greeting is strange.

Jackson looked from one to the other and shook his head. “Glad to see you two girls are gettin’ along.” Girls? Boy, had his reality expanded in the past few months. “Now about the cursin’ Iggy. When we’re just hangin’ out, let ‘er rip. Well....I mean the curse words, not the gas.”

Too late, Iggy practically chirped.

A beer-drinking and cursing spider? It was too late to try to cover her nose to avoid the gas...

“Well, at least I know it wasn’t you makin’ that lovely odor,” she chuckled, looking at Jackson. “Think ya can dig up another glass? Somehow I feel I should have alcohol in my system for this.”

“Sure.” He pulled a second glass from the bottom drawer and poured her a drink. “Enjoy Cass. How was it out there tonight?”

“Thanks.” Picking up the glass, she downed it all at once. Not exactly the ideal way to enjoy a fine bourbon, but the delivery method was fast as hell. She coughed lightly and put the glass down again. “It was good.” Her voice was a bit husky from being on fire, but she pressed on. “Not an empty table towards the end of the first set.”

“Good.” Jackson fanned the air again as he looked at Iggy. “Any more questions, Iggy?”

Hundreds. Thousands. How much time do you have?

Nudging the empty glass closer to Jackson, Cassidy turned to pull one of the chairs over to the side of the desk, closer to where he sat so Iggy wouldn’t have to keep turning back and forth to see them.

“I think I’ve figured out what the fuss one of our customers was goin’ on about earlier now,” she sat down and smoothed her full skirt out while trying to figure out which pair of eyes she should look at on the large arachnid. “Someone came in talkin’ about how security was all abuzz about a monster in one of the turbolifts...said shots were fired, but it got away.” Raising an eyebrow, Cass tilted her head. “Iggy, did someone shoot at you?”

If a spider could look guilty, Iggy did. She withdrew her fangs from her beer, cleaned them with her pedipalps and stared at Cassidy. Finally, she said, Perhaps I was slightly incorrect in my assessment of my fellow turbolift user. Since he was a rather large male, I surmised that he would not scream like he did. He screamed louder than the small female biped I surprised several weeks ago. And he was armed. When she wanted to, Iggy could avoid answering a question directly.

Jackson raised his eyebrow at Iggy. “Iggy....’fess up or no more beer. Or cursing lessons.”

The spider paused to test the level of beer in her dish: she stuck one leg in then pulled it out and sucked the beer off of it. The dish was low on beer. She peered at it then at Jackson then at the dish again. The male did fire his weapon. He kept hitting the walls and scorching them, so I hesitate to say he was shooting at me. I simply removed myself from the lift and waited till it stopped again.

“Wow, I feel so much safer knowin’ that my safety is bein’ looked after by someone that can’t manage to shoot somethin’ at point blank range,” Cassidy muttered, shaking her head again. “Though I’m glad his aim wasn’t true for your sake, Iggy.”

The male was not one of Oralia’s minions. He tasted heavy and dull, like someone from the lower regions of the station.

“Have you seen him before, Iggy?” Jackson sat up straighter in his chair now, and glanced to Cass. “Oz was shot at and kidnapped by some of the lower-level hoodlums not too long ago.”

No, I have not. Iggy had been sitting quietly still, but now started a grooming session.

“Minions? Who is Oz and why would someone want to shoot at or kidnap...er...him? Her?” The conversation was by far the strangest one she had ever had.

“Oz...Oralia, is the Chief of Security here. Iggy is hers, or she is Iggy’s, dependin’ on your point of view. Oz is...” Jackson shook his head, then continued. “Not long ago, two goons from the lower level shot at her, then kidnapped her. She was eventually recovered.”

Cassidy looked at Iggy, realizing that she must be Oz’s pet. “I’m guessin’ Oz belongs to Iggy.” Animals always were the ones to ‘choose’ who they wanted to be with, regardless of ‘ownership’. “So were the goons captured when she was recovered?” she inquired, then realized at any moment, she’d hear that’s classified again. Though she didn’t ask for details, so she held off rolling her eyes for now.

Iggy knew the answer, since she lived with Oralia and had been privy to a conversation with Gilroy. They were not, but they were later found, their bodies dismembered and discarded where Security would find them.

“That’s what I heard as well. They shaved her head, and that was a real blow to her, though I think she’s still as gorgeous as always even if she doesn’t.” He stopped and groaned inwardly. “Yeah, have some more bourbon Jackson.” And he proceeded to do just that.

Iggy was about to tell more stories of things she’d heard in Oz’s apartment, but a knock on Jackson’s door kept her from doing so. She turned to look at the door as a male voice came through, “Mr. Banning, it’s Station Security.”

“Come on in, everyone else has tonight,” he called out.

The door slid open, revealing Lieutenant Darwin. His nose wrinkled briefly as the air in the office washed over him but then a look of relief flooded his face as he spied Iggy on Jackson’s desk. “I told you to stay in Oz’s quarters,” he started before stopping and nodding at Jackson and the pretty woman next to him. “We’ve been searching everywhere for a ‘monster’. Oz said to check with you, that Iggy had been here before.”

Cassidy smiled at the newcomer, then cut a look to Iggy. “Uh-oh...busted.” Turning back to the security officer, she eyed him. Damn...he was tall. “Someone attempted to shoot in Iggy’s general direction.” She left off the suggestion that if they were found, said person needed a hell of a lot of time at the firing range.

“Ma’am,” Darwin smiled politely, “First, I’m Lieutenant Darwin. Second, even our best sharpshooter would likely miss a foot wide target when it’s moving at ten miles an hour inside an enclosed, circular space. And the civilian in the turbolift is far from being a sharpshooter.”

Iggy piped up, Indeed, I was moving quite fast. Not as fast as the speed of light, but faster than the male could keep up with. Jackson, thank you for the beer and cursing lesson. It appears that my ride home is here.

Darwin glared at Jackson for a moment, “You gave her cursing lessons?”

Hell yes he did!

To cover her urge to bust up laughing, Cass stood up and held her hand out to the lieutenant. “Nice to meet you, Lt. Darwin. I’m Cassidy Wilde.” To Iggy, she sent the question, Is that what you two were doin’ when I came in? Discussin’ cursin’?

Darwin shook her hand, thinking that he’d rather have met her while he was off-duty. He voiced a compliment, but it was lost as Iggy answered Cass: Yes. Jackson knows what asshat means. And through our conversation, I realized that calling you a fucking whore would not be a good choice of words.

Darwin’s head snapped around to look at Iggy then he intensified his glare at Jackson. “Where did you get those words! Jackson!”

Jackson did an actual face palm as he muttered. “Oh, fuck me.... Iggy. That definitely qualifies as not something to say to a friend.” He looked up at Darwin. “You can blame that one on the Admiral. I tried to impress upon her when not to use such words. And for the record, I did not get her drunk either, she already was when she got here.”

“The Admiral?” Darwin backed off then shook his head. “Have fun when Oz hears about this. Iggy, you’re coming with me.”

Home!

“No, the Brig this time. You can’t stay in Oz’s apartment, so you’re going to be locked up in a cell,” Darwin explained, even as he tapped something into a PADD he held.

Looking from Iggy to the lieutenant, Cass couldn’t help but ask, “Are you...arresting Iggy?” Somehow, the idea of locking up the giant tarantula in the brig was amusing and ridiculous at the same time.

“Arresting her? No,” Darwin chuckled at the idea. “That might mean we’d have to supply her with counsel. No, we’re simply putting her in a room from which she can’t escape, per Oralia’s orders.”

“Oz is gonna have my ass for this, Iggy.” Jackson shook his head.

Iggy turned to look at Jackson, excitement radiating off of her. You must mate with her first, then her eating your ass will serve a higher purpose.

Cassidy spun to look at the spider. “Iggy!”

Whatever Jackson mumbled this time was, thankfully, unintelligible.

A second security officer came in, this one holding a large animal cargo box. Darwin nodded at it and told Iggy, “Into the box with you.”

Iggy looked at the box then Darwin and replied, That seems a touch undignified. When Darwin frowned and moved towards her, though, she moved forward, off Jackson’s desk and into the box. Farewell, Jackson and Cassidy! Thank you for the beer! She waved a leg then yanked it back as the security officer snapped the lid in place.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Darwin sighed and returned to formal Security protocols. “Mr. Banning, Ms. Wilde, sorry to have interrupted your evening. Now that our fugitive is in custody, the Station is safe. Good night.” He and his boxed-spider-carrying minion left the way they’d come.

**********
Jackson Banning V
Owner & Bad Influence
The Nexus Club

Ignatius J. Reilly
Always with the mating!
Always with the eating of the mate!

Cassidy Wilde
Hostess & Record Holder for ignoring spider farts
The Nexus Club