Below The Surface - A Lackadaisy Fanfiction

Shattered Realities

"Need you go on about this murder, dear?"

"I have to: Lacrimosa's orders."

Mandisa had slid off her cloak, and sat on the couch in the jazz lounge. Barely anyone was there, aside from her, and her lovely Maine Coon lover: James Monroe. An author from England, traveling for inspiration and businesses. He had treated her better than her ex husband ever had. She didn't feel like an object around James.

"You have to realize that you've been running yourself ragged." James gave her a knowing look. Mandisa craned her neck up to look into his blue eyes, and how they softened when they were around her.

"Business is business, my darling. I cannot control that." Mandisa replied, a bit curtly, even. James merely raised an eyebrow. He sighed, his shoulders dropping.

"Let me make you a drink, at least...you need to unwind." He insisted. He turned on his heel and left to the other direction, his bushy tail gently brushing against her arm. Mandisa turned her head to watch him, and she held her arms. A faint smile came across her slightly wrinkled face, and those wrinkles did represent a bit of happiness. The dimples she harnessed whenever she smiled. Her blistering glare made her dangerously attractive, at least to James.

After a while, he came back with a cup and a saucer of Saiidi tea: her favorite. Seeped for five minutes over a burning fire. The fragrance calmed her down, and her ears slicked back. Her fingers traced the porcelain cup gently, and she held the handle. She brought it to her mouth and sipped carefully.

"...thank you, James." She whispered.

"Anytime, love." James pressed a gentle hand against hers. "How are Malachi and Cassandra?"

"Both are excelling in school. Cassandra is enjoying her art class, and Malachi is exceptionally good at baseball."

"Ah, perfect!"

"Not perfect: ...comforting."

"Comforting?"

"Knowing how resilient they are, despite not having Aziraphale with them. Those two are thicker than thieves, now..."

James gave another smile, then a hum as an answer. "You're a good mother, my dear. I am unable to comprehend how much you stress over being terrible."

"I want a better life for them, James." Mandisa's smile dropped, and it faded into something sullen. "I shouldn't be doing this job, but after... this, " She gestured to her glass eye, and the jagged scratches on her eye, "this and the rumors...rumors of a divorce between 'the Marvelous Mandisa' and her ever-so-loving husband?"

"Is that why you chose to hide away?" James' voice turned gentle. Mandisa squeezed her eyes shut, grimacing ever so slightly. She turned her head to look up at him, her eyes becoming glossy.

"Not hide away: run. " She lowered her voice. "Princeton was my home...until Lorenzo ruined it for me." She hissed out the last part. "I'm already torn. I couldn't take Aziraphale, despite me wanting to get him into a safer environment. Lorenzo didn't listen to me, nor did he care."

"...it was all arranged, correct?"

"Pardon?"

"The marriage, I mean."

"Unfortunately...though he started off nice...things went horrible slowly."

"My condolences, Mandisa."

"Don't be: condolences don't convert already–done damage." She went silent once she heard the familiar clicking of heels. She sighed, straightening herself up and placing the cup and saucer down. James gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, before walking off, just in time for Lacrimosa to walk in. She wasn't in her usual flapper dress. In fact, she was in her suit. Her slacks were black, her undershirt was white, and her jacket was dark blue, with a fresh rose regalia pinned onto the lapel. She fixed her cufflinks, her tail swishing.