Weekends, team players, and inevitability

"Weekends, team players, & inevitability"
The alarm shrieks from Hermann's bedside table, shattering a pleasant dream. His hand darts out and silences it—
Newt groans from his other side.
—not quickly enough.
"My apologies. I have to prepare to meet the boat from town," whispers Hermann.
"'ess Sannurday ...," slurs Newt.
"The housekeepers you engaged arrive today."
"Nuh. Urf." Newt latches onto Hermann with both arms and a leg. "Doen go."
"Let go, Newt."
"Nuh." He clings more tightly.
"Newt. I have to go."
"No." More tightly.
"Newton. You are cutting off blood flow to my upper body. Let. Go."
"No. Please stay."
"Newton, we'll have the entire evening to ourselves, but, right now, I have to greet the new staff."
No change in Newt's grip.
Hermann sighs, batters (lightly) at him with a wing.
Newt releases his hold to cover his head. "Oof! Stop with the feathers, dude! That hurts! A little ...."
Hermann rolls his eyes and seizes his change to escape the bed.
Grumbling, Newt flops back into unconsciousness, if his snores are any indication.
Hermann showers quickly, savors the tickle of the warm air dryer on his feathers.
And glowers at the handful of coverts on the tile afterward. He gathers them, adds them to the biohazard disposal canister at the back of the closet.
He scowls at the pile of neatly folded t-shirts, reaches instead for his old habit of layers: binder, shirt, button-up shirt, jumper, blazer. He sighs, rolls his shoulders, twitches his tightly-bound wings to settle them as comfortably as possible, then picks up his cane and heads downstairs.
The sky is clear and a warm breeze stirs the air. Hermann's wings fight the binding for a moment, reaching for the wind. He pauses, takes a deep breath, and wills them to stillness before continuing his trek.
The boat from the North Island bobs at the dock.
Two small figures hop ashore.
"Welcome to—"
"Hi, Doctor Gottlieb! I'm Atarangi Raharuhi." The young woman bouncing on her toes jerks a thumb over her shoulder. "He's my brother, Marama. We're your cooks-housekeepers-handypeople-research assistants."
Hermann offers a hand. "Oh. My pleasure, Ms. Raharuhi—"
She shakes it. "Ata, please."
He nods. "Ata." Offers his hand to the other newcomer. "And you, Mister—" 
"Rama," the young man drawls.
"Very well, Ata, Rama. If you—" Hermann pauses in thought. "Your names sound familiar."
"Uh. We were stationed at the Sydney Shatterdome?"
Hermann's eyes narrow. "You're the twins with the uncanny ability to locate mud."
Rama points. "She's the twin with the uncanny ability to find mud."
Hermann's frown twitches. "Do I correctly remember an incident involving the two of you, the Rangers Jones, and a pressure washer?"
Rama studies his boots.
Ata beams. "That was us! We totally kicked their asses."
Rama sighs.
"Whatever happened to those guys?"
"I believe they work with Doctor Lightcap at her university now," replies Hermann. 
The twins exchange a look. 
"Didn't see that coming," says Rama.
"Who knew they were actually kinda smart."
"Wouldn't 'a guessed it."
"No matter their ... idiosyncrasies all of the Rangers were-are highly intelligent," Hermann sniffs. "Well, thankfully, the area between here and the house is free of puddles so we should be able to avoid dunkings on our journey to the house." He turns his back and begins the walk up the hill. 
"Gotta grab these boxes first."
"Don't leave me all the heavy ones!"
"You're always bragging about how strong you are!"
"You're the one with the Y chromosome!"
"Just give me the damn things!"
"Ugh. Whatever. Here!"
"Mind your footing along the shore," calls Hermann. "Doctor Geiszler informs me the algae here can digest human flesh on contact."
Waves slap the pilings.
Hermann allows himself a small smile. "Now, if you would follow me, please. We'll start with the house and labs."
Quiet squabbling follows him all the way through the door.
"You may set those boxes on the countertop over there. They can be unpacked after we finish our tour."
"Cool!"
Boxes land with whumps.
"The cabinets behind you hold all of our cleaning supplies and the tall door hides the washing machine and dryer."
"Excellent."
With a nod, Hermann leads them deeper into the house. "As you can see, this is the kitchen and dining area. All of the cupboards have their contents labeled, so it should be simple to find the supplies you need for food preparation, serving, and storage."
"Well-organized," remarks Rama with approval.
Ata nudges him.
Rama nudges harder.
Hermann pretends he didn't see the scuffle and steps into the next space.
"Here is Doctor Geiszler's laboratory," he intones. "You are not to touch anything in this area without permission from Doctor Geiszler." Hermann pauses, raises a finger to emphasize a point. "Correction: Without permission from a Doctor Geiszler who is actually paying attention to your request. Far too many of his materials are potentially injurious to be taken lightly."
"They look like plants to me."
"They are plants." Rama leans over a bowl full of goo. "Ick. He needs to do dishes." 
"That particular algae is likely carnivorous. Please be careful."
Rama backs away.
Ata snickers.
Hermann sighs. "This way, please." He gestures them through the doors to his office.
"Hydrological models!" squeals Ata, skipping over to the chalkboards. "You're mapping the water flows in and around the island! Look at all the detail! This is epic!" She looks, starry-eyed, at Hermann.
Hermann blinks. "You're familiar with this sort of work?"
"Yep! It's my specialty. Well, technically, mud is—"
Hermann raises an eyebrow.
"—I mean the physics of mud—"
"That, too," sighs Rama.
"—so I've totally worked with this sorta stuff before."
"Ah. May I call on you for assistance, Ata?"
"Oh, wow, yea, of course!"
Hermann smiles. "We'll talk about it later, then."
Ata beams.
The little party troops back into the kitchen.
"The library, more greenhouse space, and the bedrooms are upstairs. Since Doctor Geiszler is still sleeping, we'll visit the space later."
"Awesome."
"Should we start on breakfast, then?"
"Ah, yes, of course."
"Coffee?" they ask simultaneously. Exchange a glare.
"Or tea?" continues Rama.
"Tea, please. The box is next to the stove."
Once the kettle's on, the twins systematically open every cabinet door and inspect labels, occasionally making pleased noises or calling out to each other in Maori.
Tea appears in front of Hermann as breakfast takes shape accompanied by the steady rhythm of the twins speaking over each other.
Hermann scoops sliced fruit onto his plate. "That smells wonderful, you two."
"Thanks!"
A disheveled Newt staggers into the kitchen.
Hermann facepalms. "Couldn't you even be troubled to put on pants ...?"
"Mornin', Doctor Geiszler," Ata chirps. "I made you waffles!"
"Call me 'Newt,'" he yawns, seeking coffee.
Rama frowns. "We're a unit today!"
"Only my mother calls me 'doctor.'"
"Okay, fine. We made you waffles this morning."
Newt backpedals and squints. "Who're you?"
"Newton, Ms. and Mister Raharuhi—"
"Ata!"
"Rama."
"—are the assistants Mister Choi engaged for us."
"We made you waffles this morning."
"Waffles? There are waffles?"
"And coffee." Rama pushes a mug into Newt's hand.
"I like you. Can we keep 'em, Hermann?"
Hermann sighs into his cup of tea.
Newt snags a plate of waffles from Ata and flops into the chair across from Hermann. He slathers on butter and adds a mound of fruit, then attacks with knife and fork.
Hermann accepts his from Rama with quiet thanks and eats with more attention to mealtime etiquette.
His breakfast gone in far too little time, Newt jumps to his feet. "Right! Time to show you kids—"
"Pants first."
"Pants. Yeah. Be right back." Newt zips from the room.
Hermann rolls his eyes and pushes off for his office while Ata and Rama clear up the plates. He settles behind his desk and thumbs on his tablet.
Time passes quietly until Hermann closes his window, sets down the computer, and leans back in his chair, stretching his arms over his head.
"What're you doing, Hermann?!" yelps Newt.
Hermann startles. "I was checking the progress—"
"Not allowed, dude! Hey! Wafflemakers!"
Two dark heads pop into view. 
"He's not allowed in his office on weekends, got it? In fact, except for meals, he's not allowed anywhere downstairs except for the deck. Doctor's orders."
Ata cocks her head. "But he's a doctor, too?"
"Yeah, but of math. I'm the island medic."
"Newton, don't mislead them."
"I'm not misleading anybody. I'm your local physician and those are my orders."
"Newton."
"Do you want me to call your brother? You know he'll take my side."
Hermann sighs and slouches out the door, tablet under his arm. He's barely settled in a deck chair when the computer is plucked from his grasp.
"Sorry, Doctor G. The other Doctor G says you can only have paper books today," reports Rama. "He said you might like this one."
"The Strugatskys' «Roadside Picnic». I was unaware I-we owned this." 
"It was in one of the boxes we brought over this morning."
"Ah. Uh, well, thank you, Rama. I will enjoy this."
The young man grins and retreats inside.
fweee
Hermann smirks. He still has his [mobile]. He retrieves it from a pocket, taps in his passcode.
coffee_choi: how're the twins working out?
h_gottlieb: Very well so far, thank you.
coffee_choi: find any mud yet? :D
h_gottlieb: Thankfully not. We've kept them occupied inside.
coffee_choi: what's yr other half think?
h_gottlieb: Newton is quite taken with them. They made him waffles.
coffee_choi: they make a mean waffle
coffee_choi: almost didn't wanna let em go
coffee_choi: but sending em to you'll keep custodial from revolting
Hermann sighs.
h_gottlieb: I suppose we can 'take one for the team.'
coffee_choi: preciate it
coffee_choi: enjoy the waffles!
Smiling faintly, Hermann returns to his book.
And that book goes flying when someone pats his head.
He blinks over his glasses at a grinning Newt.
"You fell asleep."
"Thank you for pointing out the obvious," Hermann huffs.
Newt offers a hand up. "The Wafflemakers whipped up some dinner before they took off. You probably need it since you slept through lunch. Care to join me?"
Hermann smiles. "I believe I shall."
Together, they walk to the kitchen.
"Why didn't you wake me earlier?"
Newt runs his hands through his hair. "You looked so peaceful, I didn't have the heart." He grins. "'sides it's good training. You took a day off and the world isn't ending."
Hermann huffs.
"Admit it."
"Not without more evidence."
"Have to be contrary, huh?"
Hermann shrugs, eases himself into place at the table, a plate of something which smell delicious in front of him. "Did the cooks happen to mention what this dish is called?"
"I asked, but all I got was the two of them interrupting and snapping at each other. It's kinda a miracle they can get anything done with all the arguing," he mumbles around a mouthful.
Hermann swallows, hums in contentment. "Arguing has never hindered our productively too badly."
"Huh." Newt chews a contemplatively. "Ever wonder what we could do if we stopped?"
"Our work would probably grind to a standstill."
Newt snorts. "Yeah. Probably. Why switch up something that works."
"Why indeed."
An awkward silence stretches.
"Did our new research assistants make it through my nap with all of their digits intact?"
"Yeah, but, Ata? Like working with that pink battery bunny. Never. Stops."
Hermann snorts. "Wait until we allow her outside."
Newt blinks. "I sense a story."
"There are many stories from their time working in Sydney—"
"Yeah, they mentioned working near you back then."
"—but I think it's better to experience her ... magic firsthand." Hermann chuckles.
"This is gonna be good." Newt grins.
Hermann smirks. "You'll see."
"Speaking of seeing, wanna watch a movie?"
"That seems like an acceptable way to pass a Saturday evening."
"'Acceptable?' 'Acceptable?!' Dude, we have to liven up your vocabulary!"
Hermann sniffs, heads for the library, Newt trailing behind.
The film ends and they retreat to the bedroom.
Hermann strips off his binder and his wings creak as he stretches them.
Newt cringes. "There's gotta be a better way ...," he murmurs.
"I have yet to find or think of one."
"You could just, I dunno, tell people."
"I would rather be a scientist than a specimen," he growls, scratches at the leading edge of his right wing.
Newt rolls his eyes, starts scratching the left one. "You really think someone's gonna mess with one of the guys who saved the world?"
"Someone certainly made a good start of it in Geneva, if you'll remember."
Newt chews his lip. "Good point." He pushes his glasses up and rubs his eyes. "Your, uh, 'friends' make an headway figuring out what was up with that?"
"They have yet to make a report. Other matters took priority."
"Oh ... right."
"I'm sure they'll get to the bottom of it. When they do we'll be able to take more and better steps to protect ourselves."
"Was that supposed to be comforting?"
Hermann raises an eyebrow. "It wasn't?"
"Uh, no. 'Protect ourselves?' What about stopping whoever it is?"
"Sometimes relative safety is the best we can achieve. Often, it's enough."
Newt sighs, pulls off his shirt. "Guess there's no such thing as perfect security."
"No." Hermann collects shed feathers, shuffles for the closet, and stuffs them away.
"Do you- Do you think whoever-it-is can make the threats stick?"
"I cannot hazard a guess until I have more information." Hermann lowers himself to the mattress. "It is safest to assume, however, that they can and proceed accordingly."
"Awful pessimistic there."
"One can't fight the inevitable; only delay it."
"Nothing's inevitable."
"Some things are very highly probable, then," sighs Hermann.
"Mmmrrm."
"Like this, perhaps." Hermann drapes a wing over his sleeping companion. "Goodnight, Newt."
Cut: “Thankfully, it has been dry for several days so we should be able to avoid dunkings on our journey to the house.” Hermann turns his back and begins the walk up the hill.
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