Categories > Cartoons > Delilah and Julius > Rapid Hope Loss
The sunlight crept in to Delilah’s room through the small space between the curtains, settling on her face. She scrunched her eyes tighter and groaned softly. Forcing herself, she opened her eyes and looked around the room. It was brighter than it had been the whole of last week; perhaps today would be different. Eager and hopeful, Delilah sprung from her bed and raced to the window. A wide, expectant smile on her face, she threw the curtains open. Her beam faded.
“I got out of bed for this?” she muttered dejectedly.
Instead of the clear, beautiful day she had been anticipating, Delilah was met by fog and drizzle. It was impossible to see the running track, only a few hundred feet away. She sighed, shoulders slumping.
And I was having a wonderful dream, too. I dreamt that Julius and I were out on a mission, instead of being stuck here.
Still gloomy, Delilah decided a hot shower would probably lighten her mood a bit. She bounded to her bathroom, determined to force happiness upon her. The shower worked a little; nevertheless, after she was out, the low-spirited feeling returned. As she brushed out her hair, she stared sadly at her reflection in the mirror.
As stupid as it may sound, I almost wish some villain would break out of jail. Dr Dismay, the Con Man, Ms Deeds … even Wednesday or Ice, for crying out loud! It’s been a month, and no one’s even so much as attempted to escape. All of us are getting bored around here. Julius and I haven’t been on a mission in almost a month.
Tired, Delilah flicked on the TV. A grin flitted briefly across her face as the CSI: Miami theme song filled the room.
Maybe I can ask Al if he can put us on homicide if nothing happens around here, she joked to herself. Throwing on a sweater and jeans, she left her room and headed for the kitchen. A nice omelette would hit the spot right now … providing we still have eggs. If Al’s gone on another one of his cake-making sprees, I’ll kill him.
In the kitchen, Delilah was surprised to find Nosey, ruffling through the fridge. He sighed angrily, and slammed the door shut. Turning around, he saw Delilah, and flushed.
“Oh,” he mumbled, embarrassed. “Hi, Delilah,”
“Angry, Nosey?” she asked teasingly.
Nosey glanced over his shoulder at the fridge and frowned slightly. “A little, yeah. Al had some of his spy poker buddies over for dinner last night, and failed to stock the food supply.”
“We’re out of eggs?” Delilah groaned.
Nosey smiled. “We’re out of everything. Looks like it’s … Tim’s for breakfast?”
“Sure. Get me a bacon breakfast sandwich, and a French Vanilla coffee, would you?”
Her friend nodded. He turned to leave, but then stopped. “Oh … do you think Julius will want anything? Where is he, anyway?”
Delilah smirked. “Julius? He’s in bed, probably. I think he’s enjoying all this free time more than he should. Um, he’ll probably like a toasted bagel and a regular coffee. I know he likes to try, but he really does make terrible coffee.”
Shaking his head and smiling, Nosey left. Delilah instantly went to the kitchen window, which had the perfect view of the exit of the underground parking lot. A few minutes later, Nosey’s car came zooming out of the lot – Delilah laughed; he knew she was watching. She sighed as she gazed at his car, leaving the Academy grounds. It was a beautiful vehicle, a black Aston Martin V12 Vanquish. Nosey’s car was one of, if not the fanciest car in the Academy. The reason for this was simple: Nosey was very careful. After a mission, the vehicle(s) used usually ended up … incapacitated. Scarlett had stopped giving every agent a new car afterwards, so Nosey’s was one of the only ones left.
The sun glinted of the back of his bumper as Nosey sped away.
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It was a twenty minute drive in to town, and probably ten minutes waiting at Tim Horton’s on a Saturday morning, so it would be nearly an hour before Nosey got back. Similarly, it could take about that time to wake Julius.
Delilah knocked firmly on his door three times, and waited. Silence. She rapped again, harder this time. Leaning towards the door, she called, “Julius, I know you can hear me! I’m coming in!”
Turning the knob, she stepped in to his room, filling it with light. There was an irritated moan as Julius practically sat up in bed. He glowered at her, shielding his eyes to the sunlight.
“Come on, Delilah,” he complained, pulling the covers over his head. “It’s early,”
Delilah grinned. “Julius, it’s nearly eleven. Nosey’s gone to Halifax to grab us some breakfast, since Al cleaned out all the food supply.”
Instantly, Julius sat up. “Did you tell him to get me--?”
“Toasted bagel and regular coffee, yes. Really, Julius, you need to fend for yourself more often.” Delilah ruffled his hair, and left.
Minutes later, Julius met her outside his room. He yawned and stretched, wrapping his arm around Delilah’s shoulders. “You know, as much as I enjoy sleep and rest, this no-mission streak is really getting tedious. We need some action around here!”
Delilah sighed, nodding. “I know what you mean. I was entertaining the idea of signing up with CSI.”
Julius raised his eyebrows and gave her a lopsided smile. “Las Vegas – the City of Lights,”
“I was thinking Miami, actually,”
“Yeah, you’re right. You could use the sun.”
Delilah punched him in the arm lightly, mock indignation on her face. Her charade was ruined when she burst into laughter. “Come on, let’s see what’s on the news. Something interesting must have happened.”
Her partner grabbed the remote and flopped lazily on to the couch. He surfed around for a few channels before finding something that captured his interest. “Hey, looks like there’s been a somethingin Halifax. Recent, too: it’s live.”
Delilah sat down beside him, and watched as the reporter gave the story.
“This is Mike Hennessy with Channel 8 News. I’m standing here outside the Tim Horton’s on Spring Garden Road, where a mugging has just occurred.”
Delilah straightened up. No … no, it was just a coincidence.
“Approximately ten minutes ago, six men were involved in a confrontation in the alley beside Tim Horton’s. One man was apparently leaving the store, to his car parked on the other side of the alley, when five men came at him. Someone spotted the mugging from inside the store and phoned 9-1-1. By the time the police arrived, however, the suspects had fled the scene.”
Something in the background caught Delilah’s attention. She stiffened beside Julius; he noticed and looked up. Her face had drained of all colour.
“Dee? You okay?”
“Julius,” she said slowly, “look at the car in behind the reporter.”
Shooting her a questioning look, he focused on the vehicle. His eyes widened. The car was a black Aston Martin V12 Vanquish.
“I got out of bed for this?” she muttered dejectedly.
Instead of the clear, beautiful day she had been anticipating, Delilah was met by fog and drizzle. It was impossible to see the running track, only a few hundred feet away. She sighed, shoulders slumping.
And I was having a wonderful dream, too. I dreamt that Julius and I were out on a mission, instead of being stuck here.
Still gloomy, Delilah decided a hot shower would probably lighten her mood a bit. She bounded to her bathroom, determined to force happiness upon her. The shower worked a little; nevertheless, after she was out, the low-spirited feeling returned. As she brushed out her hair, she stared sadly at her reflection in the mirror.
As stupid as it may sound, I almost wish some villain would break out of jail. Dr Dismay, the Con Man, Ms Deeds … even Wednesday or Ice, for crying out loud! It’s been a month, and no one’s even so much as attempted to escape. All of us are getting bored around here. Julius and I haven’t been on a mission in almost a month.
Tired, Delilah flicked on the TV. A grin flitted briefly across her face as the CSI: Miami theme song filled the room.
Maybe I can ask Al if he can put us on homicide if nothing happens around here, she joked to herself. Throwing on a sweater and jeans, she left her room and headed for the kitchen. A nice omelette would hit the spot right now … providing we still have eggs. If Al’s gone on another one of his cake-making sprees, I’ll kill him.
In the kitchen, Delilah was surprised to find Nosey, ruffling through the fridge. He sighed angrily, and slammed the door shut. Turning around, he saw Delilah, and flushed.
“Oh,” he mumbled, embarrassed. “Hi, Delilah,”
“Angry, Nosey?” she asked teasingly.
Nosey glanced over his shoulder at the fridge and frowned slightly. “A little, yeah. Al had some of his spy poker buddies over for dinner last night, and failed to stock the food supply.”
“We’re out of eggs?” Delilah groaned.
Nosey smiled. “We’re out of everything. Looks like it’s … Tim’s for breakfast?”
“Sure. Get me a bacon breakfast sandwich, and a French Vanilla coffee, would you?”
Her friend nodded. He turned to leave, but then stopped. “Oh … do you think Julius will want anything? Where is he, anyway?”
Delilah smirked. “Julius? He’s in bed, probably. I think he’s enjoying all this free time more than he should. Um, he’ll probably like a toasted bagel and a regular coffee. I know he likes to try, but he really does make terrible coffee.”
Shaking his head and smiling, Nosey left. Delilah instantly went to the kitchen window, which had the perfect view of the exit of the underground parking lot. A few minutes later, Nosey’s car came zooming out of the lot – Delilah laughed; he knew she was watching. She sighed as she gazed at his car, leaving the Academy grounds. It was a beautiful vehicle, a black Aston Martin V12 Vanquish. Nosey’s car was one of, if not the fanciest car in the Academy. The reason for this was simple: Nosey was very careful. After a mission, the vehicle(s) used usually ended up … incapacitated. Scarlett had stopped giving every agent a new car afterwards, so Nosey’s was one of the only ones left.
The sun glinted of the back of his bumper as Nosey sped away.
--------------------------------------
It was a twenty minute drive in to town, and probably ten minutes waiting at Tim Horton’s on a Saturday morning, so it would be nearly an hour before Nosey got back. Similarly, it could take about that time to wake Julius.
Delilah knocked firmly on his door three times, and waited. Silence. She rapped again, harder this time. Leaning towards the door, she called, “Julius, I know you can hear me! I’m coming in!”
Turning the knob, she stepped in to his room, filling it with light. There was an irritated moan as Julius practically sat up in bed. He glowered at her, shielding his eyes to the sunlight.
“Come on, Delilah,” he complained, pulling the covers over his head. “It’s early,”
Delilah grinned. “Julius, it’s nearly eleven. Nosey’s gone to Halifax to grab us some breakfast, since Al cleaned out all the food supply.”
Instantly, Julius sat up. “Did you tell him to get me--?”
“Toasted bagel and regular coffee, yes. Really, Julius, you need to fend for yourself more often.” Delilah ruffled his hair, and left.
Minutes later, Julius met her outside his room. He yawned and stretched, wrapping his arm around Delilah’s shoulders. “You know, as much as I enjoy sleep and rest, this no-mission streak is really getting tedious. We need some action around here!”
Delilah sighed, nodding. “I know what you mean. I was entertaining the idea of signing up with CSI.”
Julius raised his eyebrows and gave her a lopsided smile. “Las Vegas – the City of Lights,”
“I was thinking Miami, actually,”
“Yeah, you’re right. You could use the sun.”
Delilah punched him in the arm lightly, mock indignation on her face. Her charade was ruined when she burst into laughter. “Come on, let’s see what’s on the news. Something interesting must have happened.”
Her partner grabbed the remote and flopped lazily on to the couch. He surfed around for a few channels before finding something that captured his interest. “Hey, looks like there’s been a somethingin Halifax. Recent, too: it’s live.”
Delilah sat down beside him, and watched as the reporter gave the story.
“This is Mike Hennessy with Channel 8 News. I’m standing here outside the Tim Horton’s on Spring Garden Road, where a mugging has just occurred.”
Delilah straightened up. No … no, it was just a coincidence.
“Approximately ten minutes ago, six men were involved in a confrontation in the alley beside Tim Horton’s. One man was apparently leaving the store, to his car parked on the other side of the alley, when five men came at him. Someone spotted the mugging from inside the store and phoned 9-1-1. By the time the police arrived, however, the suspects had fled the scene.”
Something in the background caught Delilah’s attention. She stiffened beside Julius; he noticed and looked up. Her face had drained of all colour.
“Dee? You okay?”
“Julius,” she said slowly, “look at the car in behind the reporter.”
Shooting her a questioning look, he focused on the vehicle. His eyes widened. The car was a black Aston Martin V12 Vanquish.
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