Work Text:
Diana Trent was bored. There was nothing good on television and there was no one around to annoy. She could go bother Jane or the idiot Harvey Baines but that was old hat. It just wasn’t a challenge anymore. Besides, her hip was sore and it wasn’t worth it to get up and hobble up to Harvey’s office.
Tom Ballard came in from the patio. He was smiling, as usual. “What ho, Diana?” he boomed cheerfully.
Diana scowled at him. “Oh, shut up and wipe that silly grin off your face.”
Tom chuckled and tossed his hat on the rack. He sat in his favorite chair. “What’s got your bile up today?”
Diana stuck her nose in the air. “Nothing.”
“It looks like it might rain. Is it your hip?”
Diana bared her teeth and didn’t look at him and his impervious good cheer. “My hip’s the same. My body’s held together by glue and barbed wire. Something would be wrong if I’m not sore.”
Tom shrugged. “Sometimes, I look at myself and I think of Boris Karloff as Frankenstein’s monster.” He held his finger up. “And Frankenstein was a star. So, there’s still hope for me.”
Diana glared at him again. “There’s no need to sound so cheery. We’re old and it’s not fair.”
“No matter how much you rail about it, it’s not going to change. We just have to make the best of things.”
Diana rolled her eyes. “The best of your heart and prostate and my hip and diabetes.”
“My heart’s fine, the prostate was benign, your hip gives you something to complain about, and the diabetes is not too bad and controlled by diet. None of the needles you hate.”
Diana folded her arms across her chest. “I hate that diet. Hate it. Hate it. Hate it.”
Tom snickered. “I’m guessing that you hate it.”
Diana’s frown cracked slightly and she waved her cane in his direction. “Don’t make me get up and strangle you.”
Tom stuck his tongue out at her. “You don’t have the energy.”
Diana’s shoulders slumped. “No. I’m old and used up.”
Tom stood and came to sit next to her on the couch. He put an arm around her shoulders and she pretended to stiffen. “You’re still a hot babe to me.”
Diana lightly elbowed him in the ribs. “You’re a daft old coot, you know that?”
“Of course I do. I’m in the daft old coot union.”
Diana finally smiled. “Sometimes, I honestly question your sanity.”
“Sanity is overrated and I’m afraid that it doesn’t run in my family,” Tom replied, deadpan. He gave her a squeeze. “Do you want to go into town and torture the librarians?”
Diana shook her head. “They all know us. We can’t get through the front door.”
Tom arched his eyebrows suggestively. “You want to have a matinee?”
“I’m not feeling very frisky, Tom.”
“It’s all right,” Tom said lightly. “You want to go for a walk? Some fresh air might help your sour disposition.”
“My disposition is always sour,” Diana interrupted.
“No, it isn’t,” Tom sing-songed. “Just most of the time.”
“I have a reputation to think of, Tom,” Diana said sternly.
“Oh, come on,” Tom coaxed. “You could take a good whack at the idiot Baines. He should be out running right now.”
Their front door opened and a high pitched voice squealed. “Tom! Tom!”
Diana squeezed her eyes shut and ground her teeth. “Stop your screeching, Jane.”
Jane ran in, out of breath. She leaned on the back of the couch behind them. She gulped for air. “Sorry.”
Tom stood. “What ho, Jane? What’s the matter?” he asked kindly, without much anxiety.
Jane wrung her hands together. “Oh, Tom,” she wailed.
Diana half turned to level her death stare on Jane. “What is it, you ninny?”
Jane swallowed. “Turn on the news.”
Diana grabbed the remote and sat forward in anticipation. “Is it some kind of natural disaster?”
“No,” Jane squeaked. “It’s Jeffrey.”
Tom frowned. “My son Jeffrey?”
Diana smirked evilly and pointed to the screen. “That is the house he shares with that she devil wife of his.”
Tom sat back down next to Diana. “Marian’s not a devil. She’s only a low level demon.” He took in the scene of police cars gathered around the house and police tape closing off the area. “What is going on?”
Diana turned up the sound to hear the reporter. “…Police responded on a call from the neighbors about a possible biker gang holed up in the house. So far they have refused to come out and we have information that there might be children inside.” A photo of Jeffrey appeared on the screen. Instead of his normal clean-cut boring appearance, he wore a false beard and leather. “This man is their leader. His name is Fat Boy Higgins. At the moment, we don’t have any further information on him.”
Diana turned the sound back down and started laughing. “I wonder who called the coppers on him.”
Jane clasped her hands over her heart. “Diana, you didn’t!”
“No, I didn’t,” Diana answered easily. She batted her eyelashes at Tom. “I wish I would’ve thought of it first.”
Jane looked on the verge of tears again. “This isn’t funny, Diana.”
“Oh, yes it is.”
Tom shook his head. “He was only trying a new persona to spark Marian’s interest.”
“And mucked it up.” Diana patted Tom’s knee. “Sanity really doesn’t run in your family.”
Tom sighed. “He has his she devil and I have mine.”
Diana’s grin grew wider. “But I am much more than a low level demon. Old scratch himself comes to me for lessons in sheer bloody mindedness.”
“Diana,” Jane gasped.
Diana waved Jane away. “Stuff a sock in it and stop being a weeping willow.”
Tom stood and offered Diana a hand. “Come on, old girl. Let’s go bail him out.”
Diana just looked at him. “Why? This is interesting. Maybe they’ll kick the door in.”
Tom looked at her knowingly. “If something happens to Jeffrey, Marin will be around her with the kids trying to leave them with us.”
Diana grabbed his hand. “Let’s go. The last thing we need around here is your horrid grandchildren.”
Tom hauled her up and kept a grip on her while she steadied herself with her cane. “They’re like their mother, but they’re young. Give them time to mature.”
Diana smiled and this time there was nothing nasty about it. “Then let’s hope they grow up to be like you.”
“That’s sweet,” Jane gushed.
Diana swiped at Jane’s head with her cane. “If you ever call me that again, this will go where the sun doesn’t shine. Got it?”
Jane ran to open the door for them. “Got it.”
Diana took Tom’s arm. “Now, let’s go save that idiot son of yours. Leader of a biker gang indeed,” she huffed.