Archive of Our Own ^beta

"Don't do that," Windows said, still not looking up.

 

"Paying customer here.  I'd like to give you money in exchange for these."  The guy tapped his stack.

 

"Hold on, I've got it."  Zoe walked back over to the counter, scooting around behind Windows.

 

The guy--he wasn't a regular, Zoe had no idea what his name was--hmphed and continued to glare at Windows, now typing away on some forum or other.  Everyone had their way of dealing with the heavy stuff, and Zoe had accepted that Windows' way was seeking out his own geeky, anonymous-behind-screennames, often-contrary messageboard dwellers.  She had made it clear that she expected him to come to her first and that if she saw him posting intimate details about their love life online she'd ransom his collectables on Ebay as punitive damages, but she still accepted it.

 

"You know," said the guy, "I'm pretty sure you're being paid to work, not look up... whatever the hell you're doing."

 

Windows looked up long enough to glare back.  It wasn't particularly intimidating.  "News, dude.  Sir Alec Guinness died."

"And this affects me... how?"

"Jesus, you're getting your comics," Zoe said, ringing him up and slamming the cash register shut a little more vehemently than necessary.  Christ, what was it with people these days?  It was like, if they didn't get what they wanted right freaking now they jumped all over you.  "Let the man mourn."

He looked like he was going to say something as she shoved his change back at him, then looked at her and changed his mind.  "See if I come back here," he muttered, walking toward the door.

 

"See if we want your entitled ass," she said back, maybe a little too loudly.  Half the customers in the store looked over.  She glared at them and they turned back.  Her reputation worked pretty well, she decided, not for the first time.  Some guys were intimidated by strong women, especially ones who knew more about the history of the Green Lantern than they did.

 

She slid behind Windows, rubbing at his shoulders a little before resting her chin on one of them.  "Any word from Hutch or Eric?"

"Nope.  I emailed them, but it's too early for Hutch to be awake on a Sunday and I don't know when Bottler gets around to checking his email these days."

 

"Hey.  I got an idea.  Email Hutch and tell him we're getting together at his place at five-thirty.  Get Eric to come, too.  And bring the THX tapes."

"Not the laserdiscs?"

"Not everyone has a laserdisc player, sweetie.  And I'm not having Hutch over again, not after last time."

"Come on, if he hadn't had so much tequila--"

"Hutch's place.  THX tapes.  I'm gonna get snacks.  We're gonna have a sendoff for the late, great Sir Alec.  Sound good?""

 

Windows blinked at her behind his glasses.  "Well, yeah."

"Great."  She grinned at him, planting a kiss on the top of his head and sidling off to make sure that those weird kids that liked coming in on the weekend weren't stealing Magic cards again.

 

***

 

There were mixed drinks, there were four open pizza boxes, there were two different kinds of potato chips, and on Hutch's TV, there was one dead Jedi played by one now-dead actor telling a half-frozen Rebel to go to the Dagobah system and seek out Yoda.

 

"See, I don't care if he didn't like the movies later on," Eric said as he nursed a rum and Coke.  "He's Obi-Wan.  He's the man.  He's like... the grandpa I always wanted."

"I wrote to him when I was little," Windows said mournfully.

 

"Sucks," Hutch said.  "You know he probably threw it out, right?"

"Yeah."  Windows sighed, and Zoe patted his back.  "I feel like... it's the end of an era or something."

 

"You know what?"  Eric leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling.  "I think I'm gonna believe in heaven right now.  Because then, I can picture Linus meeting Sir Alec."

"That's nice," Zoe said, nodding and sipping at her own rum and Coke.

 

"Yeah," said Hutch.  "And Sir Alec upset about all the fallen Wars fans with unlimited access to him now."

"Maybe the afterlife has bouncers," Windows said around a mouthful of pizza.  He swallowed.  "Saint... whoever that guy is, the one who's supposed to let people in.  He's like a bouncer, right?"

"Come on," scoffed Hutch.  "It's supposed to be fucking heaven.  How many peoples' idea of heaven is meeting Obi-Wan?"

"I want to meet Tarkin, too," said Zoe.  "Peter Cushing was the shit."

 

"Yeah, Tarkin was pretty awesome," said Eric.  "So Linus'll go up to the ghost of Sir Alec, right?  And he'll be all, 'Obi-Wan'?"

"Hey," said Zoe, "You gotta do the line."

"Fine.  He'll be like, 'Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi...'"

Windows snorted.  "And Sir Alec would be all, 'Get away from me.'"  His attempt at the accent was less than convincing.

 

"I bet Linus is pretty stoked right now," said Eric, now more subdued.

 

"Yeah."  Hutch stared into his glass, and they were all silent, hardly even paying attention to the evacuation of Echo Base.

 

Finally, Eric raised his half-full glass.  "To Linus getting to meet Obi-Wan's ghost."

The others lifted theirs too, taking good-sized gulps afterward.  Zoe sighed and leaned against Windows, pretending just like the others that she couldn't see the too-shiny eyes of everyone else in the room.

 

Hutch laughed suddenly, not looking at anything but the screen.  "Hey, guys.  How much do you think they charge for autographs in heaven?"