THE BEAST ─ five hargreeves

[ 023 ] drunk five makes out with an electric eel

XXIII.

d r u n k   f i v e
m a k e s   o u t   w i t h
a n   e l e c t r i c e e l

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[A/N]
buckle up, guys and girls,
it's  time for my 3:00 a.m.
written,     coffee-induced,
self-indulgent  attempt  at
relationship development.

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—FOR A MOMENT after Klaus vanished into thin air, Zara didn't dare move a muscle. He was gone. The briefcase was gone.

The briefcase was gone.

And, more importantly, Klaus was gone. Where was he? Should she try and find him? Maybe, maybe . . . No! Of course not. She was a on a mission, for goodness' sake. That was all that mattered.

There was still no word or message from the Commission, but she felt sure that her mother was watching her every move. It was important to be efficient—vigilant—competent.

The question was what to do next? Zara hated letting the grass grow under her feet. Hazel and Cha-Cha were no doubt amply employed with blowing up buildings, but the girl felt at a loose end. After stewing on these thoughts for a moment, Zara's common sense told her she could really do no more, and so she decided she might as well find Five.

It was late evening when the paint-chipped taxi deposited her at the library. It was a big, grey, solemn-looking building that she felt sure Five might still be moping in.

"Five," declared Kiki, "five, ten, fifteen, twenty, thirty-two, forty-seven, eight—"

"You're getting confused, old thing. And why have you got Five on the brain? It's very—" she gave a start, noticing the object of Kiki's remarks, "—odd."

Five was waving gleefully to her, as Luther carried him bridal-style down a vacant street. Diego marched ahead in the front, always leading the pack. Zara ran and went to meet them.

"Diego," she greeted, and he nodded in polite acknowledgement of her. "What's going on?"

"I'm here too," said Luther.

"Oh yes." Zara gave him a slightly forced smile. "Good to see you, Louis. You're looking wonderfully elephantine, as usual."

"It's—you know what?—never mind."

"Zara's here!" Five cheered blissfully, looking at her with her a slightly unfocused gaze. He had an uncharacteristically vacant look on his face, and he held Delores in one arm and a bottle of vodka in the other.

"I am," she confirmed, before giving Diego a questioning glance. "Is he . . . ?"

"Drunk as a skunk? Yes."

"I'm disappointed in you, Five," she said, quickening her strides to match Luther's as she walked next to the man. "What happened to all that bluff and bluster and burning desire to save the world?"

"I don't care anymore," he decided. "By the way—you were late."

"Yes," Zara checked her watch, "Nearly seven hours late, for that matter. Sorry about that. I know you asked me to meet you at noon."