Kingdom fic: A Lesson on Love

[triedunture]

Title: A Lesson on Love
Fandom: Kingdom
Rating: PG
Words: 2400
Warnings: no spoilers
Summary: Lyle is given a divorce case to handle.

<><><>

It was with great pride that Lyle accepted the file folder tied securely with green string. 'You're making a good decision, Peter.' Lyle beamed. 'It's about time you gave me my own case.'

Peter Kingdom pursed his lips and brushed his hair out of his eyes with just the barest tips of his fingers. 'It's not your case, Lyle. It's not a case at all. Not yet.' Peter sighed and glanced back down at his Mac Book as it pinged for his attention. 'Just go interview the Hendersons. They said when they called that they were going to tear each other apart; try to find out if there's a way for them to settle this out of court, please.' His cell phone vibrated loudly across the surface of the desk. 'Go on, Lyle. Divorces are always messy, but I'm sure you can use all your skills to contain it. Peter Kingdom,' he said now into the phone. 'Yes, Mr Snell, I did get your letter. Though I'm not certain if you would be able to sue Ronald MacDonald directly. He is, after all, a fictional character.'

'So, I'll just--' Lyle pointed over his own shoulder and grimaced. Peter waved him off, phone tucked against his neck, typing on his laptop all at the same time.

Lyle beat a hasty retreat before he got dragged into whatever Snell was planning. He fetched his bicycle from the hall and walked it to the door, dodging Beatrice, who was currently buttering crackers and tossing them at the walls, where they stuck rather well. At present, it looked like she was trying to construct a landscape mural of sorts. 'Nice mountain,' Lyle offered.

'It's a portrait,' Beatrice snapped at him.

Lyle ducked out before the captain's wafer hit him in the face.

<><><>

The Hendersons lived on the outskirts of town, near the marina, and it took him a good twenty-five minutes to bike there. However, the day was pleasant and the refreshing air allowed Lyle to mull over the facts of his case (because, despite what Peter said, it was his case). Bob and Patti Henderson: thirty-five and thirty-two years old, respectively. Married for four years. No children. They rented a flat, so there was no house to bicker over. But what should have been a relatively simple marriage dissolution had somehow turned into World War III.

Everyone in Market Shipborough had heard about the Hendersons' row in the High Street last Sunday. According to Gloria, who had told Lyle all about it, Bob and Patti had begun a small argument, like you do. Just a normal husband and wife debating over how best to unclog a finicky drain. Then the discussion, which Gloria had been monitoring with one ear while posting her letters at the box on the corner, turned to how the drain had gotten clogged in the first place. Which turned into a series of accusations that included, among other things, each spouse's hair length and style and their lack of bathroom cleanliness.

Well, Lyle couldn't understand how two people would get so upset over a clogged pipe, but he did know that once you say something barbed about a lady's hairstyle, all bets are off. Patti Henderson had socked her husband a good one in the jaw, and things just escalated from there. By the time Ted and some of the boys from the pub had managed to separate couple, they had already spat out their increasing desire to bury the other beneath a rock and dance on the shallow grave.

Not the best outlook for a marriage, surely.

But Lyle was obstinate; he would prove to Peter that he was an asset to Kingdom & Kingdom. Peter wasn't the only one who could solve everyone's problems. Lyle was going to save this marriage if it was the last thing he did.

Both husband and wife met him at the door.

Mrs Henderson greeted him like this: 'You need to get him the hell out of the flat. Now!'

Mr Henderson made a more abstract sort of hello by cradling his head in his hands and damning his wife in a continuous loop.

'Hi there,' Lyle tried to say over all the noise.

'...and damn your stupid giggle and damn your fucking car and damn your freakish toenails and your...'

'What sorts of papers do I have to sign, hm? Hand them over, and then I'm calling the police.' Mrs Henderson stuck out a hand, and not to shake.

'Is that really necessary? If we could just sit down--'

'...and damn your goddamned hair!' Mr Henderson finally finished.

'Inside?' Lyle added belatedly.

<><><>

There were only two chairs at the kitchen table, so Lyle leaned against the counter and watched the spouses sit uneasily across from each other. Mrs Henderson wasn't looking at Mr Henderson, and when the husband spoke or grunted, the wife pretended not to hear him.

'This was a long time coming,' she drawled.

'Too long if you ask me!' he exploded, folding his arms across his chest and shooting glares wildly round the room: Lyle, his wife, Lyle, the sink, his wife, the window.

Lyle licked his lips and started slowly, calmly, in the manner that Peter always did. 'Perhaps we should discuss possible reconciliation before--'

'Hogwash!'

'Cow shit!'

'Absolute cow shit!'

'I know, Pat, that's what I just said.'

'Then it's the last thing we can agree on,' Mrs Henderson snapped.

Lyle took a deep breath and tried again. 'All marriages have their rocky patches. Why, my mum and dad--'

'Your mum and dad, hm? Pray tell, did your mum ever refuse to clip her toenails?' Bob Henderson asked sharply.

'And did your dad ever learn how to wash a god-forsaken dish!?' Patti shrieked back.

Lyle changed tactics. 'Surely there must have been some reason you two fell in love all those years ago.'

The wife grimaced. 'The memory escapes me, I'm sure.'

'Likewise,' Bob growled.

'Like we told Mr Kingdom, divorce is the only way. We want to do it now!' Patti said.

'Yeah, and no way am I letting her have the china,' Bob chimed in.

'Oh, like you've ever looked at it before covering it in filth!'

'Whoa, whoa, whoa,' Lyle chanted, waving his hands through the air. 'You're certain you want to go to court and incur all those fees and heartaches?'

'That's why we hired you,' Bob said.

'Yeah, so start representing,' Patti sniffed.

Lyle looked back and forth between the two. 'Ah. I can't actually represent both parties in divorce court,' he said.

'What!'

'Why on earth not?'

'It's a conflict of interests, surely.' Lyle shrugged. 'I can represent one of you and the other--'

'But Kingdom & Kingdom's the only firm in town,' Bob moaned. 'Who else can we hire?'

'That's your problem,' Patti snarled. 'I called firsts on 'em.'

'You did not!'

'I did. I was the first to phone 'em up.'

'On my cellular!'

'Please, Mr and Mrs Henderson!' Lyle called above the racket. 'Just let me finish. I was trying to say, I could represent one of you and, if you agree to it, I suppose Mr Kingdom could take the other.'

The spouses blinked at him for one moment, then both made a dive for the telephone on the kitchen wall.

'I'm getting Kingdom, you foul slag!'

'No way in hell am I getting stuck with the kid! He can 'ave YOU.'

And the wrestling match over the phone continued. A pot of jam was knocked from the counter and hit the tile floor with a strange shatter-splat, and Lyle let himself out the back door quietly.

That hadn't gone as well as he'd have hoped.

<><><>

'...And so that's how it happened. They both want to hire you. Won't even look at me,' Lyle said with glum honesty.

'Now, Lyle, don't take it so personally. These are two very hurt people clearly not capable of making any sound decisions.' Peter dipped a biscuit into his milky tea and frowned sympathetically in his underling's direction.

Lyle dragged a hand down the side of his face, squishing it to look like melting putty. 'How can we make them see that they're not making a sound decision now? That they shouldn't split up?'

Peter stared at him while giving his biscuit a thoughtful chew. Once he swallowed, he managed to say, 'You don't honestly think they should remain together, do you? It would be the most awful torture!'

'But, but I thought,' Lyle sputtered, 'that that's the sort of thing we do around here. We solve everyone's problems so there's no hard feelings. You get called up and within the week, Market Shipborough is back to normal. Isn't that how it should be for the Hendersons?'

'No, not if they so passionately hate each other's very innards, Lyle,' Peter returned. 'They're grown people. They may be foul-mouthed grown people, but they have to be allowed to make their own choices. And if they want to divorce and do it messily, well, we can't stop them.'

'Maybe you can't, but I can!' Lyle put his untouched mug of tea down on the desk and left Peter's office with all the stomping extravagance of a five-year-old.

'You'll regret it, I think,' Peter called after him in a placid way.

<><><>

Peter's words couldn't have been more true. Lyle marched up to the front door of the Henderson flat full of purpose, but left deflated. Requesting that the two (silent-treatment entrenched) parties view their wedding album turned into a squabble over who had lost the wedding bands the morning of the ceremony. Delicately wondering aloud what their first date had been like turned into a two-sided rant on the merits (or lack thereof) of Van Damme films. Suggesting their future children might be very handsome turned into outright laughter.

'As if I'll ever touch him again,' Patti chortled.

'Chuckle all you want, woman, but it's your saggy self that brings Little Bobby down,' her husband snarled back.

Lyle backed slowly out the door; he didn't want glass shards hitting him in the back of the noggin, which was apt to happen when two people were flinging crystal ash trays and highballs across the room.

<><><>

'I don't understand it,' Lyle whined more to the top of his pint than Ted the bartender. 'If they hate each other so much, why did they ever get married?'

'Some people just fall out of love,' Ted said philosophically. 'Maybe they were fine years ago, but let's face it. No two people need to get away from each other like Bob and Patti Henderson.'

Ted moved down the line to serve another customer, and Lyle sighed.

'I thought I might find you here,' Peter's voice rumbled behind him.

Lyle turned on his stool to look sheepishly at his employer. 'I didn't make much progress, I'm afraid.'

Peter took a seat beside Lyle. 'You've tried your best,' he said gently. 'I have some good news, anyway.'

'What's that?'

'Everything of value in the Henderson household has been smashed. The china, the flatscreen, the windscreen of the car. It's all broken. Apparently something you said today touched them off.' Peter pursed his lips.

Lyle gaped. 'Oh my gosh!'

'The bright side is, there's now nothing to fight over. I've drawn up some papers. We won't have to go to court.'

'That's a plus, I suppose.' The younger solicitor shrugged and drew whorls on the bartop, his fingertips slicing through the circles of condensation left by pint glasses. 'What happens when two people go their seperate ways?' Lyle asked. 'Where does it all go?'

'Pardon?'

'All that love. All those good feelings that bring people together in the first place. What happens to it? Does it curdle into this terrible ash tray-smashing and name-calling?'

Peter laid a steady hand on his shoulder. 'It might,' he said quietly. 'Or it might just evaporate away without anyone meaning to lose it. Television and movies can teach you that love is the most powerful thing in the world, and that's true. But it's not perfect, and it's not forever.'

'Ever?' Lyle asked. He looked up at Peter, his eyes wide. Had that thing with Honor, that fleeting thing, been the norm? Would it always come and go? Would no woman ever stay forever?

'You forget, young Lyle, about all the different kinds. There's the love of family, of one long-suffering older brother for his dotty sister, for instance.' Peter grinned and gave Lyle's shoulder a firm shake before releasing it. 'Some things won't ever change. The really important things, I mean.'

'What about you, then?'

Peter frowned. 'What do you mean?'

Lyle sipped at his lager and said, 'You've never been married. Did something just "evaporate" on you at some point?'

'Now, now.' Peter scrunched up his nose. 'I do believe we need to file some motions before closing the office for the day. If you're finished with your afternoon pick-me-up, you can some assist me, Mr Anderson.'

Lyle bolted back the remains of his drink with comical swiftness. 'Right away! Of course! I know that deadline for the land use ordinance is tomorrow and--' But he was already out the door of The Startled Duck, his barstool spinning.

Peter sighed fondly, like an affectionate uncle watching his nephew at his first school play. He followed more sedately, leaving the dimly lit pub and blinking in the bright sunlight of the market square. He glanced up and down the high street, but Lyle had already sped out of sight.

Without a witness around to catch him at it, Peter pulled his billfold from his back trouser pocket and flipped open its leather casing. He gazed at an old faded photograph, ran a fingertip down the curve of a face from long ago, looked into laughing eyes. Then he shut the thing and made his way back to Kingdom & Kingdom with a slow, loping gait.


fin.

Comments

[willdew.livejournal.com]

I'm sorry I haven't read this before now, but given that you had your account haxxored, I guess it would have been erased anyhow. :/

I love this. I adore how you managed to capture the Kingdom plot aesthetic--Lyle is being all idealistic and thinks he has it all figured out, that if he tries to solve the townspeople's problems instead of going for the commission he'd get out of pushing the paperwork through and/or going to court, that he's starting to be like Peter. And then Peter has to show him how he doesn't quite have it right, that the world isn't always so simple, and sometimes doing what one's hired to do *is* the right thing, etc.

And you managed to capture the slightly paternal/avuncular sense of Lyle being all eager to please under Peter's supervision, etc.

And I loved how sweet it was when he tried to compliment Beatrice's "mountain" and all he got was snapped at for getting it wrong in return. And when his continued meddling caused everything of value in the house to be smashed. Poor Lyle. He tries so hard and things just kind of happen to him. Catastrophe just sort of happens in his presence. It follows him around.

Lastly, I liked how you left the gender/identity of the person in Peter's photograph ambiguous. It's sad to think that he had someone once but something happened, but it'd explain a bit about his character if that were to be the case.

[lady529.livejournal.com]

First of all, I love your Lyle, this is very much something I could see him do (and it'd also partly explain why he was so determined to leave Mr. and Mrs. Collins to divorce). I also love how Peter avoids any questions that might cause him to open up <3

One tiny thing, though: I'm not entirely sure, but I get the impression that in the UK, the word 'mobile' is used rather than 'cellular'. It's one of those cookie/biscuit things.. And I'm probably the only person in the world who'd bother commenting on it. Sorry.

Anyway, more, please?

The Lady 529