Potter's Field

Chapter Eight/Part Two: The Surprise Attack

 Harley allowed himself to blink, but otherwise showed no surprise or apprehension at Mars’ statement.  “I’m sorry, Mr. Mars, but as I told you, dissection –”

Mars waved his hand, shaking his head.  “No, no, not for dissecting, Harley.”

Harley thought for a moment.  “I’m not sure if I could just give myself over to you.  I think it’s against regulations.” 

Silver snorted, still flipping through channels.  Mars rolled his eyes.  “Goodness Harley, I’m not going to take charge of your soul or anything.  You’ll be in complete control of your body.  Plus, you’ll stay in perfect health…probably.”  Harley didn’t like the sound of that ‘probably’ and would have said so, but Mars continued.  “All I need is for you to accompany me back to my mansion and help me with a little pest control.”

“Pest control?”

“Yes, you see –” Without warning, Beatle suddenly jumped from atop the filing cabinets behind the couch, armed with his favorite coat rack.  He was obviously aiming for Mars, who stood up, avoiding him easily, still continuing his conversation with Harley.  “I think you’re the type of poison I’m looking for to get rid of them.”

Silver, who hadn’t been lucky enough to avoid Beatle’s sudden attack, grunted when he landed on her.  It took her a second to catch her breath, giving Beatle enough time to jump to his feet and face off against Mars, half shouting, half coughing, “I’ve got you now, you fiend, you’re going to regret –”

Before he could finish his statement, Silver stood up, pointed her palm at Beatle and muttered something under her breath, blasting him forward.  Beatle narrowly missed Harley and the desk before slamming into a tall stack of filing cabinets, knocking them backward into more filing cabinets.  This started something of a domino effect on every stack of filing cabinets behind it until a new pathway had opened up to the far wall.

Harley stood, feeling concerned.  After all, Beatle was an older gentlemen, and it couldn’t be good for his coughing fits to get blasted forward like that.  He barely took two steps before Beatle leapt to his feet, not at all looking like he’d just knocked over a bunch of filing cabinets.

“Ha!” He shouted before erupting into a coughing fit.  He coughed for well over a minute, refusing Harley’s help as he searched under fallen filing cabinets for his water bottle.  Finally retrieving it, he took a long swig, completely emptying it before he turned back to Mars and Silver both of whom had sat back down on the couch and seemed to have finally found a channel they both wanted to watch.  “You witch, I barely felt that!”  He continued as if he hadn’t taken a few minutes to recover.

Silver glanced away from the television set just long enough to roll her eyes at Beatle and say, “Clearly.”

Harley stepped in front of Beatle before he could charge at her again, perhaps with magic instead of a coat rack this time.  That would be disastrous.  “Mr. Beatle, sir, perhaps it would be wiser to listen to what they have to say.  They do not seem to want to cause trouble.”

“I always want to cause trouble,” Mars called from behind Harley.

“Yes, of course, Mr. Mars,” Harley called before turning back to Beatle.  “He has not harmed you at all by merely being here, has he?”

Beatle stared at Harley incredulously.  “He just had his minion blast me back into the filing cabinets!”

“I take offense at that,” Silver called.

“I don’t know why you would, Silver.  He’s obviously complimenting you by believing you to be my minion,” Mars grinned. 

Harley ignored them, keeping a restraining hand on Beatle’s chest.  “Yes, but sir, if you remember, you did land on top of her while attempting an attack on Mr. Mars.”

“Yeah, and it kind of hurts to have a fat, old man with a coat rack land on top of you,” Silver commented.

Harley turned his head to look at Silver.  “I know you’re trying to help, maybe, but you’re not.  Kindly shut it,” Harley said, quite bluntly.

Silver gaped at him while Mars started laughing.  Harley turned back to Beatle and whispered, “Really, sir, I think it best if you just head on home.  I’ll handle this one, and if anything untoward happens, we can both go to the Supervisor Cannel tomorrow and report the incident.  Or if anything happens to me, you will have proof of a breach in the contract.”

Beatle’s eyes lit up at the thought of reporting Mars.  He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, then nodded and said loudly, “Alright then.  It is getting late.  Maybe I’ll call it a night.”

“Yes, thank you, sir.”

“Yes, thank you, Beatle.  It will be ever more enjoyable when you’re not here,” Mars drawled.  “Maybe I’ll actually get the chance to work on my plans for total domination of New York City.”

Growling, Beatle started toward Mars, but Harley caught hold of him.  “No worries, I won’t let him complete any such plans.  Trust me.”

Beatle stood for a long moment, glaring at Mars who regarded him with a smirk.  He finally nodded curtly, grabbed his coat rack, and started toward the entrance.  As he walked past the couch, he faked a swing of his coat rack at Mars who didn’t flinch, but smiled.  “It was nice to see you again, Beatle.”

Though he glared fiercely at Mars, Beatle said nothing as he left.  When Harley heard the elevator ding, he finally let out the breath he hadn’t known he was holding.  At least his boss wouldn’t be getting the lightning treatment to go along with his tumble into the filing cabinets.  He resumed his place on the desk across from Mars and Silver and nodded.  “Now, where were we?”