Work Text:
John knew his handwriting was almost unreadable, but Jane -- his muse -- was always able to decipher the looping letters.
The words spilled out of his brain, through his pencil, and onto the paper like a storm-swollen river.
She had sparked an idea yesterday afternoon. "The Puppeteer..."
The Professor gritted against the powerful telepath threatening his mind, but then the onslaught stopped.
Iris stiffened and gasped.
"Leave. Her. Alone," he warned.
"She is precious to you," the Puppeteer hissed.
The Professor gazed down at Jane.
John flushed as he first rubbed out and then scribbled Iris over the ghost of her name.
oOo
Jane wanted to bang her head on her typewriter.
Normally, she would have simply X-d out the error, -- perfectly acceptable for a draft.
I'd just die if he saw it...
One letter at a time. Clack... Clack... Clack... Clack.
"Oh, fudge!"
"My fella says I swear too much. But is 'gadzooks' naughty?” Betty rambled. "You're so good. You never swear."
"Fingers aren't working," Jane mumbled.
Just four letters. Only four simple taps.
"I-R-I-S," she mouthed in time with her fingers.
...The Professor gazed down at Jane...
She groaned and yanked the paper out a fourth time.