Disclaimer: Flint and any related characters don�t belong to me... ::looks around, then leans closer, whispering:: Wanna know the truth? I do own them. They�re mine! I made them, I created them! Worship me and all my glory! ::gets pounded down by huge pile of lawsuits and lawyers carrying briefcases hiding concealed weapons::

Author�s Notes: This was a �on a whim� fic, basically like all my fics. Isn�t fluff fun? Of course is it! Praise be to fics that take you about thirty minutes to write! Oh, and uh, I guess Allah too, �cause, you know, that�s just too nifty. And Gandhi and Buddhists.

But, I�ve always like Dr. Goodman. So sue me. Wait a sec, please don�t. That would be bad. Very bad. This is about him waiting and how things can go horrible wrong.


Waiting Sucks
A Flint: The Time Detective fan fiction by Pisces

Dr. Bernard Goodman sighed heavily. With his feet propped up on the console of his large computer, sunk down as deeply and comfortably as possible in his chair, and loosely crossed arms resting in his lap, he was the perfect picture of boredom. And was he ever bored.

Three pizza boxes where scattered underneath his chair. Three empty pizza boxes. Well, he thought as he glanced down at them with a lazy eye, if he wanted to get all technical about it, two and 3/4 empty pizza boxes with two slices cooling in the top box. And strewn about the keyboard of his computer were paperclips. Hundreds upon hundreds of paperclips. He had gathered all the paperclips he could find in the house and brought them here. It had been a lucky break when he had found that hidden stash underneath Tony's bed. He had even gone out and bought some, that's how bored he was.

To his left were all the paperclip animals he had made. To the right, were all the figurines of the time shifters they had, with a little Sara and Tony right in front of the group. A little off-center on both sides were the most complicated math equations he could think of, written out in, you guessed it, paperclips. And right in front of him, standing tall in all its glory, was the Almighty Paperclip Tower.

Standing at an impressive height of two feet, five inches tall, the colossal fete in paperclip physics was made up totally of nothing but paperclips. Nothing for supports, nothing for glue... Nothing, but the metal that made up the paperclip.

On a whim, Bernie reached out with a languid hand and picked up two more paperclips, ran a few calculations through his head before bending both of them the same way and hanging them on opposites corners on the top with slow, deliberate carelessness. He settled back in his chair and gave his creation a satisfied almost-smirk. That should be good enough for now.

Bernie stared at the Paperclip Tower for a good five minutes, only moving to breathe and hardly blinking. It sure was quiet around there. A slim finger started to tap out an erratic rhythm on one of his wrists. Yep, reeeeal quiet. A foot began giggle, bouncing against the computer surface. He moved his eyes slightly to watch the foot with the same expressionless disinterest. Was that the refrigerator he heard coming from the kitchen? Awful loud. And that clock wasn't any better. And now that he thought about it, this computer is making its fair share of noise...

Goodman suddenly rose to his feet, knocking over a few paperclip creations over in the process. Luckily, the Paperclip Tower stood on, undisturbed. With hands locked behind his back, Bernie stalked back and forth with furious energy in front of his giant computer, white lab coat flaring out behind him. God, was he bored! And what was taking the kids so long? They usually didn't take this long on a mission.

Waiting sucked.

Sometimes he hated staying behind. He worried himself sick sometimes over those children. Yes, he knew they could take care of themselves, especial if Flint was around, but he wanted to be there himself, just to make sure. Not that it would really help all that much. If worse came to worse, he would just get in the way. He was the most help here, making more things to better time travel in general and make it more safe.

Rationalizing it didn't make him hate it any less though.

It didn't stop his worries.

It didn't stop thoughts of his kids, Tony, Sara and Flint, stranded in time somewhere, hurt, maybe dying...

Waiting really sucked.

Bernie flung himself back into the chair, and ran a hand through his tousled brown hair. This time he didn't put his feet up, but planted his bony elbows on his knees and rested his chin on his fists, glaring gloomily at the computer screen. He was tempted to call Gillian Grey, just to annoy the hell out of her for no good reason other then he was bored and irritated and wanted to spread his discomfort. He even got as far as sweeping paperclip animals out of the way (a few skittering dangerously close to the base of the Paperclip Tower, but once again, it came out unscathed) and hovering a finger above the button to dial her up, but stopped. No, what would be the use? She'd just scoff him aside and return to her work. But even so, he kept his slender digit suspended one inch above the button. And that when the call came through.

Gillian, the exact person he wanted to see, appeared on his screen. Bernie lifted his eyes up to meet hers and quickly lost his breath at what he saw.

Gillian, for once, looked worried. Deathly worried. Her eyes flickered back and forth across his face, as if search for something. When she didn't find what she was looking for, she leaned closer to her screen. "You haven't heard yet, then?" she asked, her voice quivering slightly.

Bernie furrowed his brows in confusion and shook his head, opening his mouth to speak. But what ever he was going to say was interrupted by the sound of the time cycle returning. On screen, Gillian looked almost frantic. Bernie shot her a bewildered look before making his way to greet his kids. "No, Bernie..." Gillian called after him. The fact that she actually used his name didn't penetrate.

He rounded the corner and meet with a haunting sight. There was only one person there. Just one. With sobs racking her body, Sara had collapsed against the time cycle, covered in blood. Her clothes were spattered with gore and her silky pink hair was partly a dark scarlet and reeking of decay. And in her hands was a half smashed, very familiar stone hammer.

Bernie swallowed thickly and widened his eyes. Reeling back to the computer, he leaned heavily on it with weak, shaking arms. "Gillian..." He whispered.

Gillian shook her head sadly. "I'm sorry..." she whispered back in an equal quiet tone. "I'm so sorry..."

Dr. Bernard Goodman blinked at her and quite abruptly and without any warning slammed his fist on the console, howling in mingled grief and outrage. He buried his head in his arms, ignoring the crying and dirty girl in the other room. And the Paperclip Tower finally came tumbling down in a clatter of twinkling metal.



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