Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007

Submitted by Logan on Mon, 09/13/2004 - 18:32

Posted in

L.A. By Night Game Board

June 15th, 2007
11:59 PM
A secret Grove in Scotland.
A MidSummer's Nightmare Pt 1

WOOOSH

Green light illuminated a circle of runes which lay carefully spread across the grove’s leaf-covered ground, drenching the otherwise serene setting in an eerie hue. It had been many years since the foliage of this forest was witness to such magics, but it was by no means the first. Twice did they gather for such a purpose; twice before had these same runes sprung to life. Twice before had the spell been cast.

With an angry cry, a lone owl flew from its perch high atop the grove, eager to leave the scene. The natural order was to be unbalanced; every beast, great and small, could feel it and end every animal fled, not wanting to bear witness to such atrocities.

As quiet as the night wind, an assembly of twenty-two hooded figures silently emerged from the black woods, congregating silently around the mystical circle.

With face shrouded in darkness, the only green-robed individual stepped forwards and into the circle to address the brothers and sisters of his order.

“With the passing of time, our Order has dwindled, our power diminished. Long has it been since our magic was as strong as that of our forefathers before us; but times change. On this night, we are at the strongest we have been in over a century. Our numbers have risen, and our power once again mighty. Because of this, it is time to forge a new destiny; now is our time. Now begins the era of the Order of the Fae!”

Those around the circle nodded wordlessly as their leader turned towards the North of the circle. “Bring force the vessel.”

Some of the druids parted slightly, revealing two individuals who looked rather incongruent in the somber setting. The comatose form of a large, scruffy individual hung limply from the broad shoulders of a young man. Beneath his angelic golden curls, a scowl of annoyance marred his cherubic face.

“Bring force the vessel, set up the runes, wash the robes… god, sometimes I think I should change my name to Cinderella.”

Ungracefully slumping the unconscious body into the center of the circle, the young man turned to face the head of his order. Although unable to see the grimace on the man’s face, he could feel the disapproving look no doubt chiseled underneath the green hood.

“What? Don’t look at me like that – and yes I know the look you’re giving me!”

A chorus of sighs could be heard from several of the druids, as if in unison the thoughts “Here we go again” played through their minds.

“Well what did you expect? There I am sipping my strawberry daiquiri, enjoying a nice Sunday reading, and then WHAM! You hit me with this! you know I almost dropped my Cosmo in the tub for Christ sake.”

The green clad man raised his hand, trying to silence the upset youth, but it was to no avail – no force on the planet had that type of power.

“Read my lips: I. Don’t. want. a. Sibling!!!!!!! I’ve spent over a hundred years as an only child, and you know what, I like it that way!”

“But you keep forgetting; you’re not an only child, my son,” a raspy voice whispered from behind the secrecy of his cloak.

“Oh PUUUUUUULEASE! That retard in LA doesn’t count. See, the way I see it is you needed a practice model before you perfected the spell with me.” He smiled arrogantly as he brushed out a single wrinkle from his tight fitting, stylish G-Star shirt.

Green orbs began to glow from beneath the darkness of the druid’s hood as his impatience grew steadily. “Although he didn’t turn out as our forefathers had planned, your older brother still lives, and after tonight Loki, so shall your new younger brother.”

“Oh GREAT. Now I’m going to be the middle sibling! You know they always turn out weird or crazy or something!”

“No ‘ifs’, ‘ands’ or ‘buts’ will make us change our minds, so please, my son, grab one of your Teen People magazines and go sit quietly while we work.”

With a great Huff the young man spun around, all the while muttering as he made his way outside the circle and back to where he actually did have a Teen People waiting on a tree stump for his return. “Stupid spell… stupid sibling… I don’t want another brother…stupid…OUUU, J-Lo has a new husband!”

Now that the distraction was silently engrossed in his magazine, reading up on how Peach lipgloss was the new Cherry, the coven of druids was ready to begin.

Stepping out of the mystical circle, the lead sorcerer began the chant, leading his confreres into weaving the intricate magic, and opening up the gateway. Not a single one blinked in hesitation as the helpless man still in the circle began to stir. He was a common street thug, some dirty ingrate of society Loki no doubt chalked up in the back alleys of one of the many bars he frequented.

As the chanting grew, the eerie green light of the runes changed colours, taking on an unnatural shade of purple. Wind began to whistle through the branches of the ancient trees as the balance of nature slowly began to tip out of alignment. Leaves recklessly twirled about, ripped from their homes, as the maelstrom intensified in strength. With a violent shudder the man, who was just ‘coming to’, began bleed from his eyes, ears and nose; the magic had reached its crescendo and was funneling directly into his weak shell of bone and flesh. That, however, would soon change.

As a new, evil entity poured into his body and merged with his very soul, the man felt power flow through his veins. At first it was painful, excruciating really, but as the seconds ticked by the pain was replaced with fiery energy, invigorating his previously weak, pathetic body. Had the feeling lasted any longer, no doubt the man would have relished in gifts bestowed upon him that day, but such was not his fate. Unlike the two men before him, his mind and soul were not strong enough to fight the iron will of the foreign entity and within the blink of an eye, his being was totally consumed by the dark faery.

“Freedom!!” he bellowed, springing to his feet, and outstretching his arms as if waking from a prolonged slumber.

The druids around the circle shifted uneasily as they gazed upon their creation; something wasn’t right, and they could feel it. The man was exuding too much magic, and his body was actually physically changing to accommodate the will of the faery inside him. Muscles began to bulge out, and the animated body grew almost an extra foot in height.

“You- you are ours to command. Now what is your name? You’re new masters demand it!” the chief druid called out, his voice unsteady and nervous.

The now towering behemoth smiled as it turned its purple eyes onto the setting around him. “Oh foolish mortals, you know not who you invoked this day,” it laughed condescendingly as it marched towards the threshold of the runes. With one terrifyingly powerful punch the magical energy shattered, allowing him to pass the circle’s barrier.

“How dare you?! We will teach you to obey!” Drawing forth a glowing rune stone, the green clad sorcerer held it high before the newly reborn monster. “Now OBEY!”

The faery flinched slightly, but then reached out, grabbed the stone from the old man’s hands, and proceeded to grind it into dust.

“I obey NO ONE!” it bellowed, before savagely snapping the neck of the druid. Before any of the stunned magicians could react, the monster ravaged through the group, bringing with him a tide of quick and certain death. “I am Kronor! Men and myths alike fear my name, for I bring with me the purity of oblivion!”

Somewhere in the middle of an article analyzing Brad Pitt’s abs and a new ad endorsing Ralph Lauren’s new fragrance, Loki’s keen ears picked up on the commotion off in the distance.

Springing into action, the man ran back to where the Order had been conducting the ritual, only to jerk to an abrupt halt. Beneath a pile of blood, gore and ripped off appendages, not a single druid was left alive. The horrific scene resembled that at the end of Kill Bill Volume 1 after Uma Thurman had cut her way through the Crazy 88s. The only difference here was the corpses lining the blood-stained ground were those of Loki’s now-extinct Order.

All the while unaware of the behemoth which hid magically in the shadows, Loki’s eyes widened as he took in the gruesome picture before him.

“HOLY MASSACRE BATMAN!”

reintroducing Ryan Phillippe as Loki

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Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007

Submitted by Evalyn Toussaint on Sun, 01/16/2005 - 13:32.

Sunday, July 15th, 2007 - 23:36

tap tap tap

Softly swaying to the cool wind blowing, she danced in the gardens on the moonlit lake, her shimmering reflexion passing tiny ripples across its surface. She was one with her body, one with the earth, one with her partner. Devotion. Belonging. Embracing the passion they searched, she gave and received and gave again. The dance was far from over, her part not yet finished.

Over and over, thighs crashed together, tears streaked her face, her back slammed against the tree and she fell head first to the watery lake, drowning in sorrow, she ripped and tore, and clutching at the sheets she cried out in ecstasy, in pain, in disgrace. Her life, the raging torrent, the calm oblivion.

Belonging.

The cool wind blew, still. Caressing her alabaster skin it brushed back the long strands that drifted of her silky black hair and kissed her forehead with love and care. This was where she belonged, she should never have strayed. You’re still loved. Return to me.

tap tap tap

Quin sat by the grassy shore of the glistening lake, black skirts fanning out and covering her legs with picture perfection. She gazed up to the two moons gleaming down on her with an unspoken satisfaction, and frowned. This wasn’t right. None of this was right!

Thrashing, Quin tore herself away, hiding from the moons she ran, and fell…

THUD

Tangled in bed sheets in a panicked struggle to escape, Quin managed to free her arm then froze bolt upright on her bedroom floor. Her heart constricted under the piercing gaze of the two moons leering down at her from a shadowed figure looming just inside her open window. It grinned flashing white teeth, fixating her on the spot with a wicked intent.

“Hello Quinala.”

Quin tried shrinking away and hiding, god she even tried screaming, but couldn’t. She was stuck.

Suddenly the shadows grin vanished as its razor sharp eyes locked on something else in the room. It sniffed indignantly then cocked its ‘head’ with mild amusement.

In a flash the shadow was suddenly gone as searing blades struck through it from nowhere with the glinting city night reflecting off its fine edges. In another flash, a second shadow was suddenly disappearing out her window and into the ally with a rush of wind.

Shaking, Quin sat on the floor, knees huddled up to her chest under the sheet, frightened and disorientated.

Devil Went Down to LA - Overture

Submitted by MrDave on Sun, 01/16/2005 - 20:42.

*** Sunday 15th July 2007 11:45 pm ***

left There was no mistaking the amulet. He’d paid dearly for it but he knew that the one who possessed this token could make sweet music the way only the ancient ones had made it. He held the amulet up to the light of the beeswax candle and watched as little dots of light played over the page. The curved wires of the amulet formed shadowy scores on the page. As the bauble wobbled the light-motes flicked over the score forming harmonies and chords.

Madly, he filled in the notes on the page as quickly as he could. He filled in the light-spots as they showed on the page and soon he had a short score he could read. The song had a torch-song feel – a sort of jazzy number. He hummed the first few bars and instantly the rest of the page filled itself out. He found himself unable to stop humming. Soon, he was snapping his fingers and tapping his feet.

It was a mad rush of music. An overture for an symphony that would encompass the entire city. His voice cracked as it strained to reach the heights of operatic glory and the depths of Gregorian chant. It took in the scream of rock with the nasal twang of country. When it finally released him, he could barely speak. But he could hear the tunes echoing through his mind.

He grabbed the first stack of paper he could reach and began to transcribe his opera to the paper. He could feel the stirrings of an opera that would expose the false front of L.A. and show the world the tragic, desperate longing of the city. He would win Tony awards and it would run on Broadway longer than Cats. “Andrew Lloyd who?” people would say, “The only composer I know is Melvin Klopnick.”

Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007

Submitted by Heather on Sun, 01/16/2005 - 21:00.

Monday, 16th July 2007 – 8:42am
1318 Poplar Avenue

The door to Tash’s penthouse apartment closed, and she listened to Onyx’s footsteps disappear down the stairs. Their parting had been the usual tantalising mix of kisses and whispered promises for their next meeting but somehow Tash had the feeling that Onyx just didn’t seem quite as enthusiastic as she once had. She shook her head at her foolish imaginings – of course Onyx still felt the same way. They’d been together now for just over two months and Tash definitely still felt the glow of new love. She hadn’t felt this way since…

Sighing, Tash turned away from the door. Today was July 16th. Last year on this very day the Stone of Ghortab had activated, sealing her fate and Victor’s – taking him away from her forever. Did he still retain some semblance of consciousness on G’rnatha? Or was he dispersed so finely among the population now that there was nothing left of the Victor she’d known?

With another deep sigh, Tash found herself remembering the first time she’d met Victor. He’d had the guise of a white man then, but she’d still recognised his demonic nature even so. But she’d also recognised something else, and for the first time in her life she’d felt her walls truly crumbling around her. Until Victor, she’d kept herself apart from the rest of humanity. Sure, she had one or two friends but she’d never let any of them get very close to her. And really, apart from Ian, who had she seen recently from the old days?

No, she’d kept herself to herself for good reason; her work. There was always the danger to a loved one from the very creatures she hunted. Besides, vampire hunting was her one true passion and she could allow no other to interfere. Until Victor… and now Onyx. At least Onyx wasn’t human either. Maybe that helped to rationalise it from the danger perspective at least, but deep down Tash knew there was nothing rational about what she felt for Onyx. It was love, pure and simple.

Laughing softly, Tash shook her head. Who would have believed it, two years ago? She’d been so determined to maintain her isolation, denying her need for close personal contact. Of course, she’d believed Matthias to be human. Her mentor; her father in many senses. Had his abrupt departure been part of the key to her change of heart, when her search had finally led her to Los Angeles?

Her head began reeling from the myriad questions bombarding her. She wondered at her real reasons for her old aloofness – was it truly purity of purpose, or merely fear of intimacy? Had her relationship with Matthias been such that she’d had to fill the void with something? What had happened to her old self? She’d been so certain, once, of her mission and her methods.

Her circling thoughts were echoed in her movements as she paced about the living room. Quietly, seemingly emanating from the walls themselves, an electronic beat started up. Far from being worried about it, Tash started swaying in time to the beat, her rich voice carrying clearly through the flat.

Miss Independent ¹
Miss Self-Sufficient
Miss Keep-Your-Distance, mm
Miss Unafraid
Miss Out-Of-My-Way
Miss Don’t-Let-A-Man-Interfere, no
Miss On-Her-Own
Miss Almost-Grown
Miss Never-Let-A-Man-Help-Her-Off-Her-Throne

So, by keeping her heart protected
She never ever feel rejected
Little Miss Apprehensive
Said ooh, she fell in love

The music intensified and Tash responded in kind, her gentle movements becoming energetic dance steps as she upped the volume, belting out the chorus.

What is this feeling taking over?
Thinking no one could open the door
Surprise, it’s time
To feel what’s real
What happened to Miss Independent?
No longer need to be defensive
Goodbye old you
When love is true

Miss Guarded-Heart
Miss Play-It-Smart
Miss If-You-Wanna-Use-That-Line-You-Better-Not-Start, no
But she miscalculated
She didn’t want to end up jaded
And this Miss decided not to miss out on true love

So, by changing her misconceptions
She went in a new direction
And found inside she felt a connection
She fell in love

Tash stilled almost completely, her voice sweetening for the bridge. The words seemed etched into her heart. She had no idea where they were coming from, but they felt so completely right that she didn’t begin to question them.

When Miss Independent walked away
No time for love that came her way
She looked in the mirror and thought today
What happened to Miss No-Longer-Afraid?
It took some time for her to see
How beautiful love could truly be
No more talk of why can’t that be me
I’m so glad I finally see…

The sweetness vanished again as the driving beat of the chorus once more took over. Tash sang as though she were pouring out her innermost soul. Onyx was her true love, she believed that with all her heart. Victor had paved the way, but Onyx was the one who had truly unlocked her old chains and set her free.

Miss Independent

The music finished abruptly and Tash whirled to a stop in the centre of the living room. Her eyes glistened with her newfound revelation and she wanted to rush straight out to see Onyx. She even grabbed her coat and started to put it on before she remembered that Onyx would be busy all day and she wouldn’t get to see her until this evening.

For the third time this morning Tash sighed, but this time it was in frustration rather than regret. The hours until she’d meet up with Onyx again would just crawl by. Dropping her coat and grabbing her workout clothes instead, Tash decided some hours in the training room were just what she needed.

¹ Kelly Clarkson – Miss Independent

Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007

Submitted by Logan on Sun, 01/16/2005 - 23:29.

9:15 AM, July 16th, 2007
Streets of LA

With a lion-like yawn, the half fae rolled to one as he pulled the thin covers up to his chin. Darian could feel the warm LA sun already beating down on him through the window, but he just didn’t want to wake up. Hell, having gone through what he had the previous night who could blame him for wanting to stay in bed? *Just a little longer,* he thought as one of his purple eyes lazily fluttered opened to spot the clock. *9:15 – I need more sleep.* He was about to turn back to his other side, when, he noticed something interesting: *July 16th? What happened to the 15th?*

At first Darian had thought he had been asleep for a measly five hours, but such was not the case. The beating Kronor had dished out had taken more out of him than he had originally thought, and even with his supernatural constitution it had taken him over a day of sleep to recover. But it hadn’t only been the physical trauma that had kept him bed-ridden. Sure, the cuts and bruises were painful, but Darian knew deep down he had avoided getting up so he wouldn’t have to think about things… things being Liala.

The undine’s re-emergence had been the focus point of his thoughts since the day she showed up at the steps of Poplar, and since then things had only gotten more complicated. Liala had saved him and the others from Kronor, cured Kyle from a fatal curse and, worst of all, she had said she still loved him.

“I do still love you Darian Gray. Remember that.”

He could still hear her soft voice whispering to him, sending him on an emotional rollercoaster. How could he just forgive what she had done? How could he just ignore the fact that she left for a century without a word? How could he simply take her back with open arms? Yet, how could he deny the feelings that stirred in his heart?

“Ugg, I need some fresh air,” he finally mumbled to himself, temporarily pushing the thoughts from his mind as he threw off the bed sheets.

15 minutes later…

The comforting sun cascaded down onto Darian as he jogged peacefully through the streets of LA. It was relaxing, working out the kinks of his sore muscles as he enjoyed the beautiful summer day. For a few moments things were actually blissfully normal: no demons; no monsters; no ex lovers; just nice normal people going about their daily routines, taking walks, going shopping, stopping for coffee, breaking out into song. *Breaking out into song?*

Darian paused a moment as he passed the local Starbucks, and what he saw inside was really amazing: the entire clientele was up on their feet performing what seemed to be a Broadway musical about the wonders of a café latte. *Must be filming a commercial,* he smiled, writing it off as nothing.

12 minutes later…

Having decided that he had run enough, the half fae turned to make his way back to Poplar. The exercise had been good while it lasted, but he was still somewhat sore from the other night and the sight of a beautiful LA blonde he had passed only managed to send his mind back to thoughts of his ex. “This is so screwed up, I’ve gotta stop thinking of her,” he huffed, before jerking to a dead halt as red warning lights began to flash from the train track crossing sign a few meters ahead of him.

*That’s odd, I didn’t think these tracks were in use anymore?* But again, Darian simply disregarded the bizarre occurrence; he was too wrapped up on the undine.

“Get a hold of yourself, Darian!” he scolded himself as the train came roaring past, the sound of its wheels beating almost rhythmically as its whistle ‘tooted’ in time with the noisy engine. It was as if the machine’s sounds were working together, orchestrated by some unseen conductor, and before Darian knew what was going on he was walking opposite the mysteriously never-ending train, his pent up emotions erupting out in… song(?)

(Sung to SoulAsylum’s “Runaway Train”)
Runaway Train (Click to hear Darian sing the song with a few changed lyrics)

You left me in the middle of the night
Like a firefly without a light
You were always like a blowtorch burning
And since your flame’s been gone I’ve been yearning

So tired that I couldn't even sleep
So many secrets I couldn't keep
I promised myself I wouldn't weep
One more promise I couldn't keep

It seems no one can help me now,
I'm in too deep; there's no way out
This time I have really led myself astray

The small patch of sky above Darian shifted instantly dark as rain clouds seemed to appear out of nowhere, obscuring the sun before they burst open, drenching the small area in rain. Darian didn’t even seem to notice the change in weather as he continued on, getting to the chorus of his song.

Runaway train, never coming back
Wrong way on a one-way track
Seems like I should be getting somewhere
Somehow I'm neither here nor there

You can go where no one else can go
and you know what no one else knows
but here I am just a-drownin' in the rain
With a ticket for a runaway train

You say everything is cut and dry,
Day and night, earth and sky,
Somehow I just don't believe it

Rain pelted against the man as he continued to sing, his voice growing stronger as he was struck with an epiphany. It was all so obvious now, how he felt, what he wanted...how screwed up he really was. Yes, his heart longed for the undine, but his brain fought against the emotions...all that was left now was for him to make a choice between the two.

Runaway train, never coming back
Wrong way on a one-way track
Seems like I should be getting somewhere
Somehow I'm neither here nor there

Bought a ticket for a runaway train
Like a madman laughing at the rain
A little out of touch, a little insane
It's just easier than dealing with the pain

Runaway train, never coming back
Wrong way on a one-way track
Seems like I should be getting somewhere
Somehow I'm neither here nor there

Runaway train, never coming back
Runaway train, tearing up the track
Runaway train, burning in my veins
I run away but it always seems the same

As the song came to an end, so to did the rain and clouds, leaving the sun to once again reign over the sky. Also, the never-ending train eventually did end, the caboose tooting one final time before crossing Darian and vanishing off into the distance, leaving the track clear to cross. However, before the fae could return to his jog, his eyes caught hold of a single figure who stood in wait across the railroad. Liala’s silvery blond hair billowed in the wind as she smiled towards the obviously shocked Darian.

“Nice song love.”

Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007

Submitted by MrDave on Mon, 01/17/2005 - 00:06.

[Interlude – real time]
The house lights go down and a spotlight shines on the stage. Dressed in a silver lameé, Azrael, the announcer strolls on stage. His red shoes are reminiscent of Dorothy’s ruby slippers. He poses for a moment showing them off before lifting the microphone from the stand.

“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen of the audience. As you know this is the musical theatre portion of our show. I’d like to thank the incomparable Sweet for providing the music and arrangements.”

A red-gelled spot highlights the conductor’s podium in the orchestra pit. There are demons and devils playing the instruments in the pit. Orchestral instruments sit alongside the rock combo. Sweet turns to face the audience, grins and waves. He points a finger at a few members of the audience and winks mischievously.

As the red-gelled spot fades the Announcer resumes, “Let me set the stage, folks. Our hero, Oz, isn’t an angel any more. Oh, he’s not a fallen angel - he’s sort of a laying down angel. (a small chuckle from the audience gains a nod of appreciation from the Announcer). He needs to wake up from his nightmare and remember who and what he is. But first, the nightmare continues…”

The single spotlight fades and the stage lights come up as dance beat starts from the rock band in the orchestra pit.
[End of interlude – Back to the future]

*** Monday 16th July 2007 8:45 am ***
Oz unlocked the shed and looked into the darkness. Every bone in his back and neck ached from fighting Kronor the night before, but the lawn wouldn’t mow itself. He had obligations to Alessa and to Longwood Estates. He pulled the lawnmower from the garage and winced at the pain. When he started it up, he puzzled at the unusual sound but there was something…right...about the sound.
Something rhythmic that stimulated his memory.
Something that made him want to move and dance.
Something that made him sing.

Oz pushed the mower directly to the center of the yard, not following the typical path he normally followed around the edges. The music made him strut with purpose.

You¹ You

You are still a whisper on my lips
A feeling at my fingertips
That's pulling at my skin

Oz followed the rhythm and wheeled in a backspin as he shoved the mower at a right angle. He remembered his life with Margaret. It was a cold and lifeless memory, at odds with the warm sun and hard work that made him sweat. He pushed the mower quickly while strutting towards the edge of the lawn.

You leave me when I'm at my worst Feeling as if I've been cursed
Bitter cold within

Days go by and still I think of you
Days when I couldn't live my life without you
Days go by and still I think of you
Days when I couldn't live my life without you
Without you
Without you

Oz got angrier and angrier at the thought that Margaret had left him here in this hellish limbo and that she would be looking down at him with love and all he could feel was the heat of the sun and the failure of his life to amount to anything without her. *How could she?* he thought.

You are still a whisper on my lips A feeling at my fingertips
That's pulling at my skin

You leave me when I'm at my worst
Feeling as if I've been cursed
Bitter cold within

Oz slammed the mower back and forth across the lawn, cutting over the manicured plants and nicking the bark of the trees he had planted himself. He felt as if he might as well ruin everything he had touched. Burn it all to the ground. He wanted to lay waste to the things he had labored over and made with his hands.

Days go by and still I think of you Days when I couldn't live my life without you
Without you
Without you

Days go by and still I think of you
Days when I couldn't live my life without you
Days go by and still I think of you
Days when I couldn't live my life without you

The mower jumped as it hit a decorative stone, lining a flowerbed. The mower died instantly and with it the music. Oz slumped and gripped the neck of his shirt. It was soaked with sweat and he could feel the heat of the sun burning his back. He ripped the shirt off and flung it aside.

He grabbed the water bottle he had brought to the shed and whispering “without you” he drank the clear fluid that cleansed his mind and cooled his anger - listening to it fade in his mind and on his lips.

Without you Without you
Without you
Without you
Without you

He could never be angry at Margaret. Not for long anyways. It was not her fault that he had ruined his life.

[Change of POV – ‘reel’ time]
The viewer sees the viewpoint change as the camera pulls back to reveal that Oz’s dance has formed a broken heart with a flaming arrow through it. His shirt - the flaming tip - is consumed in a blaze fueled by his passion and anger.
[fade to black]

1) “Days Go By” by Dirty Vegas

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When You Gotta Sing...

Submitted by Meredith Bell on Tue, 01/18/2005 - 12:09.

Monday, 16th July 2007 – 7:58am
Hamilton Cove, Santa Catalina Island

The beach at Hamilton Cove was deserted with only the gentle sound of waves crashing against the sandy shore to break the silence. The cosy beachfront cabana where Galen and Kate were staying was also quiet; the smallest window that had been left open to allow the cool morning breeze into the room also admitted the rhythmic sound of the ocean. And beside that… gentle breathing and the measured ticking of a clock that announced its presence but could not be seen.

In the midst of a tangle of white cotton sheets lay their two bodies, languid and peaceful. For the past three days they had enjoyed no other company but their own, taking long walks on the beach or in the country, oblivious to everything apart from the small cocoon of self-indulgence they had created, revelling in that feeling of solitude until it seemed that nobody else could ever intrude into their own happy world.

On the bedside table stood an old-fashioned radio alarm, the large black numbers reading 7:59am before rolling over lazily to read 8:00am. At the same time the radio clicked on…

Galen rubbed his eyes sleepily as he rolled over in bed, yawning slightly as the drowsy voice of the disk jockey entered his consciousness. He smiled as his eyes fell upon the restful form of his wife. She was sleeping so peacefully with the warm glow of the morning sun gently caressing her pretty features, giving her skin a deep golden hue.

Carefully Galen reached out and gently brushed the side of his thumb against Kate’s cheek in a soft, repetitious motion. Deep inside, somewhere in the pit of his stomach he felt a fiery ache of pure love that surged within him. The past few days they had spent together had been truly wonderful; he’d almost forgotten the reason why he’d wanted to escape from LA in the first place. Suddenly Lucky’s warning and Majestic felt a million miles away.

Kate opened her eyes lazily, raising her hand to her mouth to disguise a languid yawn as she smiled up at her husband. “Don’t say it’s morning already…” she mumbled disappointedly. Monday had come altogether too quickly and meant that the time for their return home had also arrived.

“I’m afraid so,” said Galen, grinning as Kate snuggled up closer to him, burying her head further into the pillows in protest. He slid an arm around her waist and gently stroked her hip; she was wearing the most amazing little chemise made of sheer white mesh that clung deliciously to every curve… Galen too was very unwilling to return to LA.

“We still have till this afternoon…” he said with a beaming smile, combing his fingers through Kate’s fiery-red locks as he directed her lips towards his own.

Meanwhile the radio played on in the background, as the previous song came to an end the DJ’s laborious voice filled the small room.

Click to Download MP3 File

”You’ve heard ‘Turn the Beat Around’ by Vicky-Sue Robinson, ‘Heaven on the Seventh Floor’, ‘Le Freak’ by Chic, ‘Fly Robin Fly’ by the Silver Connection and now, Number Five…”1

Drawing back from their warm kiss, Kate gazed at her husband, smiling happily as soft music from the radio filled the room. There was a look in Galen’s eyes, sort of serious and searching as he returned her gaze. “Tell me…” she asked quietly. “What are you thinking?”

Galen was silent for a moment but as the musical introduction slowly ended he opened his mouth and began to sing…

“You’re just too good to be true,”2 he sang softly, his eyes focused on Kate while he let his fingers stroke across her cheek.

“Can’t take my eyes off you…
You’d be like heaven to touch…
I wanna hold you so much…
At long last love has arrived… and I thank god I’m, a-live…
You’re just too good to be true…
Can’t take my eyes off you.”

Galen pushed back the sheets, kneeling on the bed as he took both of Kate’s hands and drew her upwards so that they were sitting opposite each other.

“Pardon the way that I stare,” he sang, a blissful smile lighting up his face as he shook his head.

“There’s nothing else to compare.
The sight of you leaves me weak…”

Kate opened her mouth to say something but Galen quickly pressed his index finger lightly against her lips.

“There are no words left to speak,” he sang, smiling again as he ran his hand against the side of her face.

“But if you feel like I feel,
Please let me know that it’s real.
You’re just too good to be true…
Can’t take my eyes off you.”

As the music became more upbeat, Galen quickly took hold of Kate with one arm around her waist and swept her up out of the bed, spinning her around before letting her down on the floor. As Kate’s feet touched the ground she was suddenly wearing a high pair of dance shoes, Galen held her hand tightly as he spun her outwards and then twirled her back into his arms again in time to the music.

The heels of Kate’s shoes tapped euphoniously on the wooden floor as the two of them danced with perfect symmetry, rolling their shoulders and hips for a beat before Galen spun Kate back around to face him. Kate picked up the length of her nightdress in one hand as Galen took her hand and they danced a quick cha-cha before turning towards the veranda doors and kicking them open.

Brilliant sunshine lit up the deck like a ballroom stage as they held hands at a distance and danced their way to the outside.

“I love you baby!” Galen sang, his voice overflowing with joy as he pulled Kate close into his arms again so that her back was pressed against his chest. Kate smiled as he leaned in over her shoulder and continued singing.

“And if it’s quite alright,
I need you baby to warm a lonely night.
I love you baby.
Trust in me when I say…”

Taking her hand again, Galen twirled Kate under his arm several times before pulling her close once more and dipping her so low that her hair trailed on the floor.

“Oh pretty baby!
Don’t bring me down I pray,
Oh pretty baby!
Now that I’ve found you stay.
And let me love you ba-by, let me love you…”

His voice lingering on that last note, Galen leaned low, his lips poised to kiss Kate as he held her securely in his arms. Kate quickly raised her arm and pressed her index finger against Galen’s lips as she picked up the tune and began to sing…

“You’re just too good to be true…” she smiled playfully as Galen swept her upright, back into his arms.

“Can’t take my eyes off you.
You’d be like heaven to touch…
I wanna hold you so much.
At long last love has arrived, and I thank god I’m alive.
You’re just too good to be true,
Can’t take my eyes off you.”

On the beach below the deck a trio of men began to play their trumpets in time to the music. Galen and Kate watched them for a beat before twirling away from each other, their arms outstretched so that their fingers almost touched as they performed a farcical can-can from the front of the veranda towards the ocean.

“I love you baby!” they sang together.

“And if it’s quite alright,
I need you baby to warm a lonely night.
I love you baby,
Trust in me when I say…”

“Oh pretty baby!” sang Galen, taking Kate’s hand and twirling her beneath his arm before pulling her close again. “Don’t bring me down I pray..”

“Oh pretty baby,” interrupted Kate with a smile, “Now that I’ve found you stay…”

“Oh pretty baby,” they sang together as they started dancing again, the rising sun highlighting their silhouettes against the skyline, “trust in me when I say…”

____________________________________________________________
1 “Rock Flock of Five” (Dialogue) - Steven Wright from the movie ‘Reservoir Dogs’
2 “Can’t Take My Eyes Off You” - Andy Williams

The Devil Went Down To L.A. - First Movement (Adagio)

Submitted by MrDave on Tue, 01/18/2005 - 15:13.

*** Monday July 16, 2007 9:15 am ***

The phone rang loudly enough to make Melvin jump. He briefly thought about letting the machine get it but picked it up anyway. “Melvin,” the voice on the other end said, “Where are you? It’s after nine and you are still at home?”

Video World. His job. He had forgotten he had to work today. He had written a part in the musical where his hero – Marvin – had worked his lousy job in the video store and sang a powerful song using just the titles of the movies on the shelf to tell his tale of woe. How he – Marvin – had come to LA as a musician hoping to become a songwriter and had ended up unfulfilled and working in a video store. How the only reason he continued to work there was-

Her. Gloria. Shit, he’d forgotten her too. Melvin hoarsely croaked into the phone, “Sorry, wasn’t feeling good, forgot to call.”

“Well you’d better get your ass in here anyway. We need the extra hands. We are doing inventory today.”

Inventory. That meant everyone would be there, especially Gloria. Melvin held up the bauble and looked at it. He had used it and the instructions were clear; use it then either return it or give it to someone special. It was new-agey enough that she’d probably like it, he thought. He dropped it into his pocket and rushed out of the door.

Sitting on the bus, there was a group of black kids in the back of the bus doing some sort of rap/hip-hop ad-lib. He barely noticed it not wanting to look at them directly. However, as he stood up and glanced backwards furtively, he noticed that they weren’t kids at all, but a group of waiters he recognized as regulars on this bus. He didn’t know why they were singing but they were pretty good. Just the few lyrics he managed to hear as he stepped off the bus were profound words about being black men in a workforce that didn’t see them as men first.

It would make a nice bridge between scenes for his musical, Melvin thought, and he made a mental note to include something like it when he got back to his opera. He mentally composed a bit that Marvin’s mother sings when she calls him in L.A. to beg him to return to his family in New York because of all the terrible things that are happening there. He was whistling it quietly when he got to Video World.

He stepped into the door and stopped. The store was awash with music. It was a rockabilly number that had hints of Haley’s Rock Around The Clock but with a slightly more contemporary edge. The employees were calling out the titles of the movies while counting them off. Each time they inventoried a shelf they did a little flip and kick dance move and shifted to the next shelf. It was surreal. Melvin moved through it while heading to the back to clock in like a dreamer.

There was a customer standing at the counter singing a duet with the cashier over Disney’s I’m late, I’m late; for a very important date but with slightly different lyrics. In the back, everyone was sort of milling around as if there wasn’t any sort of madness happening outside. The manager, Scott, was there.

“Melvin, god dammit, we need you here. You are the only person who really understands the difference between widescreen, full screen, HD and director’s cut. These simpletons we have here are just marking time until school starts again. You are my rock. My anchor.”

Melvin heard the music swell. He knew he was going to lapse into a song about how marvelous Marvin was. He knew it because he had written that song last night and had dumped it because it slowed down the scene. “That’s okay, Scott, I’m here now.”

The musical cues stopped like someone unplugging a record player.

Scott looked disoriented for a second then shook it off. “Yes, well, um…get out there and get things organized.”

Melvin put on his Video World apron, affixed his Assistant Manager nametag and went back out onto the floor. The musical number seemed to have finished and for the most part everyone was looking slightly embarrassed but unharmed. Melvin called them over. He glanced at the inventory and it seemed that they had been mostly on track. He issued a few quick instructions and everyone went back to counting the shelves.

Except for the other assistant manager - Gloria. She stood there and looked into Melvin’s eyes. She had a disappointed look that told him this was going to be painful for both of them. “Melvin, where were you last night?” she asked.

*Buying a powerful amulet from a demon in the worst part of town,* he knew wouldn’t go well. “I was stuck downtown without enough money for a cab. I had to walk all the way home. I had gone down to get something for our anniversary. I got you this.”

Melvin pulled out the amulet and dangled it in front of her eyes. It seemed to make an almost musical chime as it glinted in the morning sun. “Melvin, it’s beautiful. But you should have called me.”

“I know. But I kept thinking I would get home in time. By the time I realized I wasn’t going to make it, it was too late.” There was a long uncomfortable pause. “I’m sorry,” he added.

She looked disappointed, but she accepted the apology, “I wanted to see you last night. You promised to let me make dinner. We’ve been seeing each other for a year, Melvin. That has to mean something more than ‘I’m sorry.’”

“It does, Gloria. It does. I’ll see you tonight. I promise. I won’t miss it this time. I swear.”

The next act begins at 4pm, Monday 16th July

Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007

Submitted by MrDave on Thu, 01/20/2005 - 10:42.

[The commercial break is over – the show is beginning again]
The scene resolves at an office with only a few desks and phones. There are several men sitting around listening to another man speak: James Anderson. He is explaining the problem with arresting Oz. Many of them men are board and as James turns his back from time to time to indicate things on a giant whiteboard that has lines of evidence on them many of them make faces and “crazy” motions with their fingers.

[Voiceover]
The announcer peaks in a deep staccato voice, “This is the city. There are a thousand stories in the mean streets, and this is one of them. It’s the story of one man’s quest for vengeance over his total lack of meaning in a world that is devoid of reason.”

In a lighter voice he adds, “That, and he is completely crackers.” The audience laughs.
[End of voiceover and back to the scene…]

*** Monday 16th July 2007 10:02 am ***
The light melody of Patsy Kline’s “Crazy” played melodically in the background but it was slowly driven out by a dum-dum-da-dum. Du-du-da-dum. ² lick on an electric bass guitar. James sang.

All of our time spent in flashes of light

All you people can't you see, can't you see
How this crime’s affecting our reality
Every time they do it
We can make it right

And that makes us larger than life [/sans]

As James’ tune faded the voices of the other men rose to a different melody:

Crazy³, Toys in the attic he is crazy,
Truly gone fishing.
They must have taken his marbles away.
Crazy, toys in the attic he is crazy.

James’ hard-driving rock melody continued

'Cause all of your time’s spent keepin’ folks alive

All these people can't you see, can't you see
How this crime’s affecting our reality
Every time we do it
We just make it right

And that makes us larger than life [/sans]

James turned to the board and wrote out his refrain – but again, the men singing drowned out his message.

Crazy, Over the rainbow, he am crazy,
Bars in the window.
There must have been a door there in the wall
Where he came in.

Crazy, over the rainbow, he is crazy.

James turned back and got violent. He slapped the board with passion and he kicked over a chair. The others stood and James started to march in time to the beat. The others slowly joined him.

And that makes us larger than life

Yeah, every time we're out
Only we can make it right
Yeah, and that's what makes us larger than life

How our job’s affecting our reality
Every time we're out
Only we can make it right
Every time we're out
Only we can make it right
And that makes us larger than life[/sans]

The “army” marched out except for one person who remained in the room. Brinkley sat near the window and watched the men climb into black sedans and pull out in a stream of flashing lights and sirens. She thought to herself, *Poor James. He’s really lost it this time. I wish I could take his madness away. I really should have done it that way to start with. Although he’d probably taste like rotten bananas – yuck! There was a reason the whole thing went bad - really bad. But it is done now, Azrael saw to that. Nothing we do can ever bring those people back. Unfortunately for James and Oz that means it can only get worse. Azrael was right to have me watch James for his own safety. I wonder who is watching out for Oz? *

She calmly switched off the light as she exited. Later, as she drove her cute yellow VW bug after the line of black cars she tuned in the radio to get that stupid song out of her head.

2) “Larger than Life” by The Backstreet Boys
3) Excepts from “The Trial” from Pink Floyd’s The Wall

[/][/][/][/][/]

Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007

Submitted by Evalyn Toussaint on Thu, 01/20/2005 - 10:53.

Monday, July 16th, 2007 - 9:23am
1318 Poplar Avenue - Kossinton Apartment

The sound of Reah’s footfalls padded along the polished wooden hallway, a light assuredness to her step as she made her way to the kitchen. The hall opened up to the lounge room which Reah took an automated glance over to discern that she’d managed to beat Quin up for once. Checking the wall clock, she scratched the side of her head, then shrugged and continued the remainder of her way past the entertainment setting towards the pantry cupboard.

She was partway through fixing up a ham cheese focaccia, humming to herself some soft, sultry tune of no description when she suddenly paused midstroke in slicing the round bread. A quarter full glass of water sat on the island bench, little splatterings of its contents decorating the surface around it. Reah knew she’d left the kitchen spotless last night before she went to bed, and started to wonder. She couldn’t remember much of last night, though waking this morning she’d felt like the whole twelve hours she’d slept had done nothing towards relieving her tiredness. Thinking harder on any dreams she may have had still didn’t recall anything other than a sense of hollowness… and thirst. Did she wake at all last night to grab a drink? Must have, but she couldn’t remember….

Quin! “Shit!”

Dropping the knife with a clatter she never registered, Reah dashed from the kitchen back down the hallway to Quin’s bedroom door and knocked urgently on it’s wooden surface. If she woke her cousin, she didn’t care, but something did happened last night. That much she was sure about.

“Quin?” Reah knocked again more rapidly. “Quin, are you in there?” She put her ear up against the door to try and make out her cousin’s breathing, but couldn’t hear anything. Before her panic had the chance to bowl down the door, however, she suddenly heard a ragged sob from the other side. “Quin?” Reah frowned, placing her hand on the door handle and gently test it.

Opening the door slightly inward, Reah carefully poked her head around its edge, concern creasing her forhead. “You alright dude?”

Quin was sitting cross legged at the head of her bed, sheets still partially covering her folded knees as she shuddered another sob and looked up to see Reah before hiding her face altogether, shamefully wiping the evidence of her tears away. “I-I’m fine. So i-if you could just…”

“Quin,” Reah slipped into the room completely and padded briskly to Quin’s bedside where she sat herself down, placing an arm across her cousin’s shoulders. “What’s wrong? If you’re upset, tell me. You don’t have anything to be ashamed of. Here…” She used her free hand to draw Quin’s eyes back around so she could see, then with her thumb, Reah tenderly stroked away the glistening tears brimming Quin’s eyelids. “There’s nothing you can say right now that could keep me from loving you.”

With a sniff, Quin fisted her eyes once more and blinked down at her bedding. “I’m not safe here anymore.”

Reah frowned. “You’re what? Not safe? Quin, whatever makes you feel…”

“I tried to run… tried to run, but he… I couldn’t…. I should have known better.” Quin continued, her voice sobering somewhat. Reah didn’t know what she was talking about, this was all new to her, but when she tried to ask Quin said, “I’m a bad person, I don’t deserve anything. How… how could I be so selfish. Death would have been the wiser path.”

“Hey! Woah!” Reah sat bolt upright, her supportive hand sliding a bit back off Quin’s shoulder. “Quin, I have no idea what you’re talking about, but whatever it is, your life is worth so much more. You’re none of those things you said, you hear? None!”

Red glazed eyes stared helplessly back up at Reah, Quin tried to say something, but quickly shied her head the other way again. “You don’t know Reah. You don’t understand what I’ve done. Who… what I am.”

“Quin I…”

“It’s hopeless Reah, and I’m as low as they come.” Quin said and broke out, a fresh stream of tears coursing her face. “Hopeless….” She muttered.

Reah bulked, wrapping her arm back around Quin’s shoulders and drawing her in. She hugged Quin close to her chest and kissed her on the crown, hushing and soothing her quiet. “Hey Quin, it’s alright, k? Shh, shh….”

Reah rocked slowly back and forth, cradling her younger cousin when the soft, the gentle strokes of a piano gradually enveloped the two girls from some unknown source. From somewhere deep within her body a placid hum surged up and soon held her throat, rolling over her tongue….

“Young girl don’t cry,¹
I’ll be right here when your world starts to fall… hmm”
Young girl it’s alright,
Your tears will dry, you’ll soon be free to fly… ohh”

Music seemed to consume Reah’s soul, the melodic words flowing from her mouth feeling so natural as she sung….

“When you’re safe inside your room you tend to dream,
Of a place where nothing’s harder than it seems.
No one ever wants to bother to explain,
Of the heartache life can bring and what it means…”

Leaning back, Reah place a hand under Quin’s chin, raising her eyes to her own then stroked her hair back.

“When there’s no one else, look inside yourself,
Like your oldest friend just trust the voice within,
Then you’ll find the strength that will guide your way,
You’ll learn to begin to trust the voice within… ooh”

Rising purposefully off the bed, Reah stepped back a few paces before turning to the window, reaching out with her hand to touch the pale glass….

“Young girl don’t hide,
You’ll never change if you just run away… ooh whoa yeah
Young girl just hold tight,
Soon you’re gonna see your brighter day… whoa ooh whoa

“Now in a world where innocence is quickly claimed,
It’s so hard to stand your ground when you’re so afraid.
No one reaches out a hand for you to hold,
When you look inside, look inside to your soul… whoa oh”

She spun on Quin, arm swinging out to her cousin who’s eyes raised attentively, tears drying on her cheeks.

Grabbing Quin’s arm, Reah hauled her off the bed and led her out the door she resolutely pushed open to slip shut behind them, music raising dramatically in the background till it seemed to shutter the very walls....

“Life is a journey,
It can take you anywhere you choose to go.
As long as you’re learning,
You’ll find all you’ll ever need to know.”

Having escorted her all the way into the lounge, Reah let go, jumping up upon the kitchen bench, spinning around with her arm stretched out, pointing right at a wide eyed Quin. Voices seemed to raise from somewhere in the street through the open window….

“Be strong!”

“You’ll break it…”

“Hold on!”

“You’ll make it,
Just don’t forsake it because…”

“No one can tell you what you can’t do…”

“No one can stop you, you know that I’m talkin to you!”

There was a dramatic pause as Reah lowered her arm and took in a deep breath. Then, with a long awaited release, Reah suddenly belt out the chorus….

Closing her eyes and drawing her arm carefully back, she reopened her lowered gaze tenderly on her younger cousin and stepped down from the bench, approaching Quin to wrap loving her arms back around her….

“Young girl don’t cry, I’ll be right here when your world starts to fall… ooh yeah mm hmm….”

Music faded out, the soft strokes of the piano keys rolling off into an oblivion as she gently rocked her cousin protectively once more.

Quin sniffed, tightly hugging Reah back, then they both suddenly freezed. Reah’s eyes snapped open.

*What the f…*

1) "The Voice Within" Christina Aguilera

When You Gotta, Let It Out...

Submitted by Meredith Bell on Thu, 01/20/2005 - 11:55.

Monday, 16th July 2007 – 9:38am
Main Street, Avalon - Santa Catalina Island

“Look… I’m just gonna come right out and say it. That was…”

“Weird?”

Galen scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “Incredibly so.”

Kate glanced at her husband as they walked down Main Street, just one of the many picturesque avenues that made up the delightfully Mediterranean-style town of Avalon. The two of them walked side by side but refrained from making actual bodily contact. The incident earlier that morning had been fun at first but the uncontrollable nature of the event had unnerved them both slightly to the point where they were wary of discussing what had happened in case they suddenly burst into song again.

“So um… what were you thinking about?” Kate asked suddenly. “I mean before you started…”

“-Going all Captain Von Trapp on you?” Galen shrugged, “I guess… I don’t know, I was just looking at you and thinking how … well, how beautiful you looked and how happy it made me feel to just be there, lying next to you.” He smiled shyly; glancing up towards the sky and squinting as the sun caught his eyes. His hand swung by his side and for a moment his fingers brushed lightly against Kate’s.

“I can’t explain what happened…” Galen continued, shoving his hands into his pockets. If he held Kate’s hand then pretty soon he’d want to kiss her and if he kissed her… “One minute everything was normal, the next there was music playing and…”

“We were doing the cha-cha on the porch.” Kate smiled brightly, shaking her head.

Galen chuckled quietly. “It was fun though… …maybe we shouldn’t look too deep into this? It’s only singing after all. What’s the worst that could happen? Apart from Sony suing for breech of copyright that is…”

Kate laughed, “I guess so… it was just so… strange.” An impish grin suddenly erupted on her face and she turned away, hiding her amusement behind the back of her hand.

“What?” asked Galen as he noticed her laughing again. “What’s so funny?”

“I was just thinking…” Kate explained while trying to contain her giggles. “Well… how lucky we were that it didn’t happen when we were… well, you know?” she shot Galen a playful glance to which he smiled again and looked away. “Can you imagine?”

“I’m trying not to,” Galen grinned as he watched a small boy wearing a large pair of headphones dance around from one foot to the next. The whole town was bustling with activity, from tourists and street vendors to entertainers and townies. While the two of them walked slowly down the tree-shaded street he was all of a sudden struck by a thought. “Wouldn’t it be strange…” he began, scratching his chin in contemplation, “if…”

“It wasn’t just us?” Kate said, finishing Galen’s sentence for him. She looked up at him as they shared a moment of understanding. “That’s just what I was thinking…”

Suddenly three business men came marching out of a small office building, throwing away their briefcases and mobile phones before performing backflips and somersaults down the road and all the time singing in unison to a funky disco rhythm that seemed to start up out of nowhere…

“It’s always better on holiday!
SO much better on holiday!
That’s why we only work when we need the money!”1

Meanwhile, across the street stood a man outside a crowded phone booth, as a thumping rock beat started up he jammed his right hand against his hip and stuck his other arm way out to the side playing an imaginary air guitar that suddenly came to life as he sang…

“I wanna call my little baby on the telephone! So many times I call her house but she’s just not home! And when all my change is gone, I’ll get in my car and I’ll drive along. I wanna call my little baby on the telephone!”2

Kate turned back to face Galen, her right eyebrow raised slightly in speculation. “Well I guess that answers our question.”

“It wasn’t just us?” Galen shook his head as they continued their steadily paced walking; turning a corner that led out into an open piazza.

There were even more people here; some engaged in song while others just hurried on about their everyday business. Situated in the town centre was a large stone platform that was probably used to host bands or other entertainers but was empty today. Instead, several people were sat on the steps; eating an early lunch or just watching the world pass by.

“This is bizarre…” Galen muttered as a couple of girls tap-danced by singing Sister Sledge’s ‘We are family.’ “What is going on?”

Kate looked equally bewildered. “It’s like a spell or something. But that’s so ridiculous!” she waved her hand dismissively. “Besides… a spell where everyone sings? It doesn’t exactly sound evil… well, unless you had a really bad singing voice…”

“It hardly seems like the malevolent machinations of your average big bad.”

Kate shrugged as she slipped her arm through her husband’s and leaned into him as they carried on walking. It was such a beautiful morning that even despite the strange goings on she was just glad to be able to spend some time with the man she loved.

“I guess it could be some kind of chaos demon or trickster spirit,” said Kate with a sigh as they stopped at the rostrum. Her eyes flittered around the piazza as she sat down on one of the lower steps, looking for a sign that might point towards what or whom was behind all this. Something deep inside told her that while this phenomena might not exactly be a threat nothing good could come out of it if it was left unchecked.

“But a dancing demon?” she sighed again. “That just seems so…” Kate looked up to see Galen stood completely still in front of her, humming a quiet tune. “Galen?” she asked with a slight frown, “Galen? What…”

Suddenly Galen fell to one knee at her feet, snatching up her hand as sweet, lulling music drifted in from the ocean as abruptly as it had earlier that morning. Not only that but the brilliant blue skies overhead quickly grew dark and solid while a single ray of sunlight broke through like a spot light, surrounding the two of them as they sat on the platform.

Click to Download MP3 File

“Ne-ver knew, I could feel like this…” Galen sang softly, his voice trembling as he tried to fight against the uncontrollable compulsion to sing his heart out to the woman he loved more than all the world.

“Like I've never seen the sky, be-fore.
I want to vanish in-side your kiss,
Every day I love you more and more.”

Kate looked surprised as Galen rose to his feet, still holding on to her hand so that she had to follow him or be dragged around on the ground. She glanced around at the other people in the crowd but they were all stood still and silent as though the sudden darkness had frozen them to the spot or rendered them mute.

“Listen to my heart…” sang Galen insistently, his dark brown eyes burning into Kate’s with unburdened devotion and also a glimmer of alarm as the words freely poured out from his mouth, resounding throughout the streets like he was part of a Broadway musical.

“Can you hear it sing?
Telling me to g-ive you everything!
Seasons may change… winter to spring.”

Galen reached out his hand to run his fingers through Kate’s hair, the ray of sunlight growing brighter until it felt as though they would set on fire if it grew any hotter.

“But I love you, until the end – of - time…
Come what may!”

Kate shook her head in an attempt to force back her own desire to sing once again. “Galen stop this!” she implored him, “we need to figure out what’s going on!”

“Come what may!”

“You have to fight it…” Kate begged futilely, tugging on Galen’s hand to try and pull him out of the spotlight. “You have to try!”

“I will love you, until my dy-ing day!”

“Galen… I don’t think this is fun anymore,” insisted Kate as the music became softer again. “In fact it’s really starting to creep me out. We have to- Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place,” Kate’s face was filled with surprise and alarm as the words forced themselves up her throat and out from between her lips. Not only that but as she sang a flood of warm joy welled up inside, urging her on. Powerless to resist, Kate let the gentle melody take control. “Suddenly it moves with such a perfect grace.”

Grasping each other’s hands and taking a step towards each other Galen and Kate sang together in perfect harmony. “Suddenly my life doesn't seem such a waste!”

Kate smiled softly, stroking the tips of her fingers against Galen’s jaw. “It all revolves around you.”

“And there's no mountain too high!” they sang together again, their voices rising up euphonically into the heavens as they slowly ascended the platform on which they had been standing.

“No river too wide!
Sing aloud this song, and I'll be there by your side.
Storm clouds may gather, and stars may collide…”

“But I Love You,” said Galen gently.

Kate smiled again, turning to look over her shoulder at her husband as she sang her sweet reply. “I Love You.”

“‘til the end…”

”Until the end of time…”

As the music hit a crescendo, Kate and Galen stood at the middle of the central platform with the beam of sunlight focused directly upon them as they sang. Holding hands they raised their arms to the skies before turning to face each other.

“Come what may…
Come what may…
I will Love You,
Until my dying day!
Oh, come what may!
Come what may!
I will Love You…”

Suddenly the music died out and a stranger walked out of the darkness, playing his guitar in a lonely solo while the other passersby gathered together, circling the halo of light, singing in angelic harmonies that sounded almost frightening in their intensity.

”The greatest thing… you’ll ever learn…”

Kate and Galen suddenly looked at one another as the power of the song subsided and they were in control of themselves once again. Quickly they ran down the stairs, pushing through the crowds who seemed oblivious to their escape as they continued to sing, pouring into the spotlight. Slowly, thin threads of smoke began to rise upwards, becoming thicker and darker with each passing second.

“Come what may!
I will love you!
Come what may!
Yes I will love you!”

“We have to get out of here,” said Kate quietly as the two of them stood on the periphery, watching while the townspeople bellowed out the tune with force.

“Have no fear,” reassured Galen, taking her hand as they set a hurried pace. “We’ll find a way…”

Kate nodded, “to save the day…”

“Make some evil pay…”

“Come what may!” sang the townspeople, ending the song with a resplendid climax. Their voices filled with abundant happiness, rising into the heavens. “I will love you… till my dy-ing day!"

Kate and Galen suddenly stopped in their tracks as a massive explosion pierced the air. Turning back where they’d just come screams of horror replaced the earlier melody while the singers ran in all directions. In the middle of the podium lay a smouldering corpse.

“Oh my god…” murmured Kate, frozen solid to the spot even as people ran around in panic, the once black skies slowly clearing to reveal the extent of the damage. Several more bodies lay scattered around the platform, their charred bodies lifeless, still burning slowly.

“We need to find out what the hell is going on.”

_____________________________________________________________
1 “Jacqueline” - Franz Ferdinand
2 “Hypnotise” – The White Stripes (lyrics altered)
3 “Come What May” – from the film ‘Moulin Rouge’

Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007

Submitted by MrDave on Thu, 01/20/2005 - 12:44.

[End of Intermission – Hurry up, find your seat again.]
“Act three of our little drama, folks, will continue in just a moment when the antagonist – our slightly mad and definitely pissed off anti-hero James – confronts the protagonist – the apathetic and seriously angst-filled Oz – on the grounds of the lovely – and particularly not present – Allessa’s home.

“James has brought a few friends.”
[Start the VCR.]

*** Monday 16th July 2007 11:36 am ***
Black sedans streamed down the road towards Longwood Estates. Sirens on their dashboards flashed red and blue. A radio crackled to life in James car. “Ready, Steve? Andy?”

Another voice answered it, “Whatever.”

James triggered his mike and spoke, “Ready, Chris?”

Chris answered, “Just give me a minute”

James waited just a few seconds before announcing, “Alright, fellas, let's go!”

The cars crashed through the gate and as they pulled off onto the grass the men inside them poured out and began to search the grounds. James stood atop his car and used a bullhorn to shout over the din of men searching the grounds.

⁴

Brinkly parked her car outside the walls and calmly walked through the busted gate and strolled up the tire-track ruined walkway towards James’ car. James did not react to her presence, but sang,

The men on the grounds piped in and joined the song

Oz ran out from the house with his arms in the air. He knew that these men would either injure each other or would damage the house if he tried to run for it. He figured his best bet was to give up. He shouted to James,

James saw Oz and lifted the bullhorn to sing,

Oz looked over at Brinkley. A change came over him and he dropped his hands and ran towards her. She looked horrified. The phrase “suicide by cop” flashed in her brain. Many of the men pulled guns and James reached for his weapon as he sang,

Time slowed to a matrix-like blur. Oz was diving towards Brinkley and she was ducking to avoid him. James was aiming his gun and dozens of men were pointing weapons at Oz as he launched through the air. Oz’s wings erupted from his back in slow motion as the echoes of the music hung in the air.

Ballroom blitz, ballroom blitz, ballroom blitz Ballroom blitzBrinkley landed and James moved from atop the car to the grounds between Brinkley and Oz. The next thing Oz knew he was sailing towards James. He tried to pull out of his glide but the molasses that suspended him in time also prevented him from changing his course. James fired once at Oz and Oz witnessed the bullet-time shockwave of James’ shot streaking through his flaming wing. He heard other shots and closed his eyes while drawing his arms across his face. He heard meaty impacts in deep slowed down sound. He didn’t feel them. He did not need to see with his own eyes to know who had been struck. Time resumed abruptly.

Oz fought for breath as he opened his eyes to find that James was in his grasp with blood trickling out of his mouth. “Shit!” Oz swore.

“Freeze, dirtbag!” he heard behind him. Footsteps were thundering across the lawn towards them.

Brinkley leaned over Oz’s shoulder and said softly, “Excuse me, Oz; I just have to get in here and…”

Oz looked at her. “And what? Pray to bring him back? Then you’ll likely set everything back a pace or two, right? You won’t kill him, or even stop him, will you? Spared once – spared always isn’t that the rule? Grace is forever, right, but grace on God’s terms, right? You won’t leave him stuck on a respirator or something for the rest of his life! Well we angels can decide on life or death can’t we? That is what Azrael does isn’t it? Angels like us are the ones the Idea has entrusted with keeping the law for Him aren’t we?”

Brinkley’s face started to pale. “Oz, don’t do this. You aren’t... It isn’t your place…”

The world around the two of them froze. She knew that the men on the field weren’t really police and they had no idea that there had been real bullets in their guns. To them, they were playing a role that had been choreographed for them. They would return to their homes and remember the presence of cameras and crew on a location. Despite the craziness that would play out before their very eyes. It was all Hollywood magic.

To Brinkley this was magic of a different order. This reeked of Sweet and his musical demons. She had encountered them over the years and they usually left either a minimal mess to clean up or everything burned. It would be over in less than a day as well; Sweet had no stomach for the mortal world. But this time something had flipped a switch to crazy in everyone’s head and someone was going to wind up dead: James, Oz, her current body or everyone here on the field.

She felt like there was still time to walk backwards on this path to a saner place. She could feel Oz’s frustration at being mortal, disempowered. He could not stop his train from colliding with James’. She knew that James would be better off; but this wasn’t the way to do it. This wasn’t the way out. Her thoughts formed words and music. She sang about James…

⁵

What's wrong, what's wrong now?
Too many, too many problems.
Dont know where he belongs, where he belongs.
He wants to go home, but nobody's home.
That’s where he lies, broken inside.
With no place to go, no place to go, to dry his eyes.
Broken inside.

Turning to Oz she sang about him:

Turning to the two of them - James in Oz’s arms - she sang with the frustration of someone caught in the middle and powerless to stop anything.

He wants to go home, but nobody's home.
That’s where he lies, broken inside.
With no place to go, no place to go to, dry his eyes.
Broken inside.

He's lost inside, lost inside... oh oh.
He's lost inside, lost inside... oh oh

“Oz,” she said to him tenderly, “I want to help you but I have to try to make it right. Let me fix it.”

Oz would not look at her. She could see the rivulets of tears on his cheeks. “It’s gone past the point where you can put it right, Brinks,” he said.

“No it hasn’t yet,” she said with just a hint of frustration, “I still have the power. I can put everything back to where it was and everything will be just fine.”

“You have the power to change things, but not end it. James knew that and it is what drove him mad. He knew that he could never atone for his own guilt at surviving. James would never kill himself; that would be a sin. You would never kill James because Azrael told you not to. He reserved that privilege for himself.” Oz stood up and dropped the body of James Anderson at his feet. The marks where Oz had strangled him were clearly on his neck. “I made sure you can’t undo it easily, Brinkley. I just wanted it to be over for James and myself. You can’t bring him back without sacrificing me, and they,” oz said indicating the frozen tableau of armed men running towards them, “won’t let me live for this.”

“Oh, Oz,” Brinkley said as she stepped back. The officers that had been running towards them arrived and tackled Oz to the ground. “Officer down! Officer down!” shouted one of the men into a radio.

The muscular bodies that slammed Oz to the ground were strangely muted as the sweet sounds of strings rose from the tangle of bodies as Ozimandius sang.

⁶

Truth be told I've tried my best
But somewhere along the way
I got caught up in all there was to offer
And the cost was so much more than I could bear

The man flipped Oz over and cuffed him. One of them jerked Oz’s arms roughly while another knelt in the small of his back and tightened the cuffs on his wrists.

We all begin with good intent
Love was raw and young
We believed that we could change ourselves
The past could be undone
But we carry on our backs the burden
Time always reveals
The lonely light of morning
The wound that would not heal
It's the bitter taste of losing everything
That I have held so dear.

The men stood up in a circle and jerked Oz to his feet. Many of the men jabbed him with elbows and punched at him while he was defenseless. They dragged him away from James’ body and slammed him soundlessly onto the hood of one of the cars.

One of the men began to search him. Tendrils of steam began to filter up from Oz and the man holding him unconsciously stepped back a half step. The man patting Oz down began to look for open flame. He found one as Oz’s pants leg burst into fire.

Heaven bent to take my hand
Nowhere left to turn
I'm lost to those I thought were friends
To everyone I know
Oh they turned their heads embarrassed
Pretend that they don't see
But it's one missed step
You'll slip before you know it
And there doesn't seem a way to be redeemed

The men acted to preserve Oz’s life. One of them ran to the trunk of a sedan to get a fire extinguisher. Another threw Oz into the grass and bean to roll him back and forth. Oz did not assist or hamper them. He continued to sing in a rich tenor. He knew what was coming and welcomed it.

Oz’s body was in full blaze and the men who had extinguishers blasting on the body were giving up in disgust as the canisters sputtered on empty. They were disappointed that they could not prosecute a cop-killer, but they were not totally disappointed with this outcome, as bizarre as it might be.

As they the last of the flames flickered the body smoked and reeked of burning flesh. The rising smoke formed a column into the sky. Suddenly there was a burst of light that knocked everyone flat and Oz’s body crumbled to a pile of ash. As the men turned, those that weren’t watching the body crumble swore they saw a bolt of fire shoot into the sky.

4) “Ballroom Blitz” by Sweet (the group, not the demon)
5) “Nobody’s Home” by Avril Lavigne
6) “Fallen” by Sarah McLachlan

[/][/][/][/][/][/][/][/][/][/][/][/][/][/][/]

Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007

Submitted by Kaarin on Sun, 01/23/2005 - 21:11.

The Temple
Morning

Food.

Even in the demonic world, it could be used to mark the passage of time, and important events; the Temple where Nikolai was staying was no exception, though the cooks had a daunting task ahead of them. Each meal had to serve a number of species, and various quantities and varieties needed to be made. A meal was usually simple in nature, however.

Something was different, however, he thought, observing the Great Hall this morning. There was more tension there than normal; everyone seemed to be waiting for something to happen. Some people, Nikolai noticed, were even holding instruments. Still, stranger things had happened there, so he wasn’t going to say anything until halfway through the meal, it happened.

The High Priest, as Nikolai thought of him, was a Xangyarj demon. While denying all titled, the demon was easily the most respected member of the temple, often offering advice to everyone, and being available to most everyone there if his services were needed. “Friends,” he began, “we all have felt that familiar urge within us; and as this is a temple, we know that today we must pay homage to the gods of Song and Dance.”

A couple of the demons who brought instruments began to play. It began with a flute, establishing a beat, to the tune of a showtune.

Then he began to sing.(1)

“Burning desires,
singing of songs,
brought by Sweet,
A Musical Tonight!

Pent-up passions,
bringing to light,
brust into song,
A Musical Tonight!

Whenever he sings,
It comes to here,
But only for a day,
A Musical Tonight!”

Nikolai wanted to laugh at the sight of a grown demon suddenly bursting into song, but everyone else gave him pause. This was expected. *What the hell is going on?* As if in answer to his question, the ‘band’ went to a quieter part of the song, and the High Priest began to speak:

“Yes, we all know what has happened. Some damn fool has – once again – summoned the Demon Sweet. We don’t know how long he’ll be there, but we know that his crossing brings about one of our ‘days’ here in song. Nobody knows why the Crossroads do this, but they do.

“And now…” he gestured broadly with his hands, “the entire temple!”

Then Nikolai himself began to sing, along with everyone else.

Burning desires,
singing of songs,
brought by Sweet,
A Musical Tonight!

If we all sing,
We might combust,
Holding it in,
A Musical Tonight!

Singing of war,
Singing of love,
Singing by everyone,
A Musical Tonight!

The tempo started to change again, and everyone stopped, until each person could say a line in turn, stating something. Saref began by singing Fightinging in tune, followed by the Seer, Prophetic obscure, and another demon, banquets grand.

Then the High Priest sang, Put him out!

Nikolai faced in the direction where he pointed, where one of the demons had burst into flames, only to have several fellows around him throw buckets of water on him, and the demon sang:

Dousings in water!

The tempo increased again, and Nikolai heard himself suddenly sing, Reflecting pastly!

Then Saref, in one word, Dance!

Even Vard-Lokkar did not seem immune, when at his table, he sang, Magic!

All the men sang at once, Meals; then all the women, dressing; finally, the more religious members sang out, Prayers, before everyone, at once, sang one final verse.

Burning desires,
singing of songs,
brought by Sweet,
A Musical Tonight!

Everyone sat down and looked like they were taking it normal, except for one human sitting across from Nikolai, who just smiled. “You’ve never had that happen before, have you?” Nikolai asked.

The human nodded. “Oh, sure. Lots of times. Blasted dancing demon – you know, everyone thinks it’ll be fun to have life be a song, until someone starts bursting into fire. What do you think the song Disco Inferno is about?”

And at once, Nikolai knew that this would be a very long day.

----------
(1) The song is written to the tune of “Comedy Tonight,” by Steven Sondheim, from his musical, A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum

The Devil Went Down To L.A. - 2nd Movement (Allegro)

Submitted by MrDave on Mon, 01/24/2005 - 13:57.

*** Monday July 16, 2007 4:00 pm ***
Melvin stuffed the folded scraps of paper he had been writing on into his pants pocket. He could not stop the music from flowing from his pen onto the page. He had finished most of the first two acts of his musical and was trying to figure out how to plot the third.

In the second act, Marvin and Julia his sweetheart have a blow up over her acting career becoming more and more of a joke. Her last part had been the day they had met over a year ago and it was just a non-speaking part in a local commercial. The two of them working in the video store have a long duet where they sing of how they dreamed it would be and how the dreams are fading like sleepers waking.

He was very proud of that song. It would be a runaway pop hit for sure. He could hear it sung by husband and wife team Jessica Simpson and Nick Lachley and it would energize Nick’s career again and put him back on the map. Melvin added a Grammy to the awards his musical would win. He had even penned a title Lost Angeles on the top of one of his pages. He was proud of that title too. He wondered if a musical could win a Pulitzer Prize.

Melvin reassured Gloria before she left for the day how he was going to be there tonight and he meant to keep that appointment. It had not been any secret when they started seeing each other and it was primarily because Scott had invested so much trust in Melvin that Gloria had been made an Assistant Manager. It kept them on different shifts.

Melvin made a note to have a character in the musical named Steve who tried to keep Julia and Marvin apart.

Melvin wandered out of the office and saw Scott putting on his apron for the evening shift. The two of them nodded politely at each other as Melvin signed out and placed his apron and name tag on the shelf until his next shift.

Out on the floor there was a little scuffle as a patron was rushing back and forth between the shelves trying to find a particular film. He was singing a quick ditty and he was shuffling his feet so fast across the nylon carpet that Melvin thought he saw smoke. The customer stopped in front of one of the metal shelves and sighed in relief. He had found his movie at last but as he reached for it a huge spark of static electricity leapt from his fingers and he went rigid and fell to the floor, smoldering.

Melvin blinked dumbly for a second. He had watched the man die in seconds. He ran to the office and shouted at Scott to dial for an ambulance. Scott looked at him and casually strolled to the phone where he dialed 9-1-1 and then used those three notes to start a musical round with the emergency operator.

Melvin couldn’t watch. He felt lightheaded and staggered out of the store towards his home.

*** 4:30 pm ***

Melvin had recovered somewhat from his fright but not completely. His unease was partially due to the ensemble chorus part he heard on the bus. The driver was singing about how mind-numbingly boring his route was at each chorus and each of the riders sang a little piece about how mind-numbingly same their ride was on each verse.

There was a pause when it came to his part and he felt compelled to sing. But somehow he didn’t He sort of wanted to since it would have made it feel normal and make the whole experience fit into reality, but by stepping away from it made it all too strange and alien.

When he got home he had a call from Gloria on the phone. It was a tuneful little ditty sung a capella in her clear but amateurish singing voice about the time (7:00) and a reminder to bring wine (red). He also had a call from his sister in New York – Mother was sick again. He could hear music playing in the background of the message even though she wasn’t singing.

Melvin sat down at the table and looked over the music he had written. He gathered it all up and began to add the parts he had written at work. It took him a couple of hours but by 6:30 he had finished assembling the first two acts. The third act was still totally blank. Where did he go from here?

Glancing at the clock he grabbed the phone and called a cab. He checked his pockets and realized he had no cash. Fortunately there was a shop down at the corner with an ATM and he could stop there on the way to Gloria’s. He could get wine there too.

The cab arrived and the driver was playing a plucky little polka number with his horn and the other horns around him. It sort of lifted Melvin’s spirits. He had the driver stop at the corner while he ran inside. As soon as he entered there was a lot of panic. The cashier was on the counter and doing a tap number and his clothing was on fire. Melvin didn’t want to get delayed so he grabbed a bottle of wine and ran outside and hopped into the cab. The driver (who was busy counting rests until his next note in the car-horn polka) pulled out without comment.

Melvin stopped at another ATM along the way and paid the driver before arriving at Gloria’s place. He straightened his shirt and checked the wine before walking inside to ring her bell. There was a long pause while he waited there for her to buzz him in. An unfamiliar voice said, “Five minutes, Mr. Klopnick,” before the door buzzed.

Melvin opened the door and had one foot in the doorway before he realized that there was something wrong. His mind had been elsewhere waiting for the buzz and he had reacted without thinking. He stood there for a few beats before slowly walking in.

The hallway looked as if it were backstage of a theatre. He could see the canvas and framing of the sets. The set-painters signatures were all over the backs of the scenery. He walked to Gloria’s door and opened it and had to hold up his hand to shade his eyes. Someone said, “Showtime!” and Melvin looked around at the stage onto which he had entered.

Independent Women

Submitted by Firefly on Thu, 01/27/2005 - 13:59.

Monday, 16th July 2007 - 3:00pm
Bonne Santé, Pasadena

Daye stood at the door of Bonne Santé and gazed up and around the block. A short ways down the sidewalk, a pair of girls was spinning in a wild dance as they sang aloud apparently about their mutual affection for chocolate covered pretzels.

Daye shook her head and shrugged. "Okay, this is getting worse," she said to Drew. He was staring in abject horror at the women and had put a hand over his mouth. Daye had learned a few hours earlier that he was soul deep terrified of bursting into song.

So far, they'd both been lucky enough to avoid whatever was affecting the rest of the damn world. They'd been at the Bib, beginning a search for clues when Kate had called. Daye hadn't hesitated to offer to come down to Kate's shop. This was all just a bit weird, even for her.

"Shall we go inside?" Daye asked Drew. He nodded, hand still tightly clamped over his mouth.

They pushed open the door, and Daye paused just a moment to take in the shop. It was very welcoming, and very Kate. The place was homey and relaxing. Stepping inside reminded Daye forcibly of stepping right into Kate's home.

"Charming," Drew's voice was low and close to Daye's ear. She turned her head and saw that he'd removed his hand and was gazing around at the shop with an admiring light in his eyes.

Kate and Galen were seated on one of the sofas. They stood when Daye and Drew approached.

"Hi," Daye said. "I really like your shop. I'm sorry I've been so tardy in coming by to check it out."

"We've been busy," Drew filled in, slipping his arm around Daye's waist and smiling down at her, love shining in his eyes.

“Here? In this tiny, little shop? This is it?” a new voice rang out from the door, cutting off Kate before she could reply. All eyes turned to see a tall, beautiful blond woman step into Bonne Santé.

It took a moment for her identity to dawn on the two witches, they both quickly placed where they had seen her face before. It was Darian’s ex, the one from outside Poplar Avenue.

“Yes its here, and could you try not to sound so condescending, I mean what if they hea…” Darian’s face reddened as he stepped into the waiting area to see Kate, Daye, along with their husbands sitting there, well within ears reach of Liala’s comment. “Oh hey, strange day we’re having eh.”

“Getting stranger by the minute…” said Kate, glancing suspiciously at the haughty woman standing at Darian’s side. Turning her attention to her husband, Kate smiled and then shook her head firmly… there was no way she was going to start singing again!

“We… just got back… from Catalina,” she explained, “I was hoping this whole Broadway ShowTime Nightmare was just a local phenomenon but from the looks of things over here…”

“Oh no, the magic that’s in the air spreads out very, very far, can’t you feel it? I thought you said she was a powerful witch,” Liala said turning to Darian without so much as whispering the last part.

Darian turned a brighter shade of red. “Uhh guys, this is Liala. Liala these are the friends I was telling you about.”

Daye shot Kate a look, but attempted to be polite. "Yes, well, there's no question something strange and powerful is going on, and that's precisely why we've gathered here, isn't it. Kate is a very powerful witch. I'm quite sure she's more than aware of how strong the magics in the air today are. I'm also sure there's no reason not to remain optimistic about these things."

"Any insight you, Darian, or your...friend would care to offer would be greatly appreciated. We've no idea what we're dealing with here, and that's disturbing to say the least," Daye added, moving closer to Kate unconsciously. She was aligning herself with her closest friend in case this Liala's arrogance wasn't her only downfall.

"Not quite as disturbing as the Rogers and Hammerstein, mind you," Drew added, shivering. "Have any of you been... affected personally?"

“Oh yes, Darian here sang this very moving song, it was really cute. He was there walking, then it started raining, and his clothes got all wet, and do you know how hot he is in wet clothes, so anyway then…”

“Liala, could you uhhh just… not” Darian nudged her, an awkward smile crossing his face as he turned more red.

“Well you don’t have to be embarrassed. I’m sure these girls know how handsome you are,” Liala retorted, looking to Kate and Daye for support in the matter.

*Oh God, why did I ever want her back* the fae thought, as he stood there not knowing what to say. “Yeah, we’ve been affected.”

“Us too,” agreed Kate quickly, anything to stop Darian from exploding from embarrassment, he was already about as red as a lobster, she didn’t think he could take anymore. “It was strange… it all felt so normal in the moment and when it was over…”

And then there was the dancing,” interrupted Galen, taking Kate’s hand in his own, “and the overly dramatic choreography… …and those poor people…”

Kate grimaced, “one minute they were singing their hearts out and the next they…”

“Set on fire.”

"Set on fire?" Daye repeated, a horror stricken look on her face. "Are you serious? Goddess, this is worse than I thought."

"We haven't... well, I haven't anyway..." Drew added. "Sang, or been compelled to sing or whatever."

"So...do you know anything?" Daye asked Kate, before turning to Darian and Liala. "I mean do you have any ideas? Does anyone?"

“Well it… could be a demon, I guess,” ventured Kate uncertainly, “there are a few records of demonic races that use song as part of their defense arsenal… to put a predator or prey to sleep… that kind of thing.” Kate looked around at her friends – and Liala. “Or maybe a spell?”

"A demon...hmmm... seems to me...it's been niggling at my brain all day," Daye said, thinking aloud. "Something I read about back at the Council house... from a few years ago. Can't pin it down, though."

She sighed. "I just...we need to figure it out. We need to do something. That 'set on fire' bit, that rather scares me, you know?"

"Don't worry, Baby," Drew snuggled her closer. "I won't let anything happen to you."

“And what could you do to protect her?” Liala giggled looking at Drew as if he had said something outrageously funny. “At least she has magic, you’re just a regular powerless mortal. Oh Darian, your friends are very funny.”

"Okay...mortal...sure," Drew replied, sounding more than a little offended, "but powerless...hey, I take exception to that remark. What the hell? You think I can't go toe to toe with the Big Bads if the occasion warrants it. Damn, Darian, your girl is cold."

“Don’t worry Drew, she’s got tons of magic and you should still see how she reacts when there’s a spider in the room,” Darian chuckled trying to ease the tension in the room. Liala however didn’t find it so funny.

“Excuse me? Don’t make me out to be some useless damsel in distress Darian Gray. You know first hand what I am capable of, and I certainly don’t need you, or any other man to take care of me.”

“Every woman needs a man to take care of them,” scoffed Galen, chuckling slightly.

Kate turned her head slowly in her husband’s direction. “Oh really?” she asked, her voice tight with indignation. “And how many times have I had to save your behind? Mr. I’ve-been-knocked-unconscious-more-times-than-a-crash-dummy.”

“Hey… I wasn’t saying that…” stammered Galen uneasily, realizing he’d really shoved his foot in his mouth with that statement. “What I meant was…”

As Galen's words trailed off, music started low and slow, building in the air around them. Drew's eyes grew wide and he took an involuntary step back. His look of horror was mirrored in the faces of the others in the room, particularly the men. His legs moving of their own volition, he stepped away from Daye and moved to stand beside Galen. Darian came up to flank the other man on his opposite side. As the music grew louder, all three began to move, dancing through intricate steps in perfect harmony. Drew and Darian spun away as Galen stepped into the centre and began to sing. (1)

“When the visions around you, bring tears to your eyes,
And all that surround you, are secrets and lies,
I'll be your strength, I'll give you hope,
Keeping your faith when it's gone,
The one you should call,
Was standing here all along…”

Darian and Drew swung around to stand beside him once more, turning and swooping, the motions of all three perfectly timed.

“And I will take you in my arms,
And hold you right where you belong,
Till the day my life is through,
This I promise you,
This I promise you.”

They performed the same intricate turns, and now Darian stood in the centre. He stared into Liala's eyes and crooned.

“I've loved you forever, in lifetimes before,
And I promise you never will you hurt anymore.
I give you my word, I give you my heart,
This is a battle we've won,
And with this vow,
Forever has now begun...”

Again the men came together and their voices joined.

“Just close your eyes,
Each loving day,
And know this feeling won't go away.
Till the day my life is through,
This I promise you..
This I promise you..”

Finally, Drew moved to the centre. His blue eyes shone with love, but there was a note of sorrow in his voice as he sang.

“Over and over I fall,
When I hear you call
Without you in my life baby
I just wouldn't be living at all...”

The music soared and the men moved once more together. They turned and danced in perfectly choreographed steps for their women. They sang together to the crescendo.

“And I will take
(I will take you in my arms)
You in my arms
And hold you right where you belong
(right where you belong)
Till the day my life is through
This I promise you baby
Just close your eyes
Each loving day
(each loving day)
I know this feel
I know this feeling won't go away
Every word I say is true
This I promise you
Every word I say is true
This I promise you
Ooh, I promise you...”

As the music died down finally, Liala, Daye and Kate continued to stare at their men in dumbfounded amazement, quite baffled at the impassioned serenade that had just been performed. Liala, however, took a single step forwards, her eyes fixed on Darian. The words he had just said… sang… of course she’d known that he still had feelings for her despite all his protests and anger, but to finally hear him admit it…

“Oh…” she gasped, her voice barely above a whisper. “Darian, I knew it… I knew you couldn’t say mad at me, I knew you still loved me!”

Kate rolled her eyes in amusement. “Oh yeah Liala, you’re one real independent woman aren’t you?”

Liala shot an angry glare in Daye’s direction as she snorted at Kate’s comment, before turning back to the three men, her eyes fixing on Darian. “Well why don’t you tell me what you think?” she asked before a sassy R ‘N’ B chord sounded out of nowhere and Liala struck a rigid poise, one hand on her hip and the other tucked behind her head in a haughty pose of self-importance.

Liala’s voice rang out, clean and clear. (2)

”Tell me what you think about me
I fight my own demons and I face what evil brings
Only ring your cell-y when I'm feelin lonely
When it's all over please get up and leave"

Kate moved to stand next to Liala and faced her husband, a defiant look on her face as she joined in the song. Daye hung back, but shifted in time to the music.

“Tell me how you feel about this
Try to save the world from gettin dissed
Have my own fun, oh and I take my own risks
Always 50/50 in relationships"

All three women stood together, advancing on the men as they backed away slowly. The girls’ hips swayed in time to the strong, pounding beat. They threw there hands up in the air as they sang triumphantly.

"The monster in the dark
I've caught it
The vampire down the block
I've fought it
The rock I'm rockin'
'Cause I depend on me
If I wanted the glory you’re claiming
I’ll take it
The werewolf in the night
I’ve caught it
The evil out of sight
I’ve fought it
I depend on me
(I depend on me.)”

The women exchanged a significant glance and turned slightly towards the door of the shop and the wide world outside, sending there call to all the others in the world who'd ever felt this way.

“All the women who are independent
Throw your hands up at me
All the fae who takin' the day
Throw your hands up at me
All the girls who savin worlds
Throw your hands up at me
All the ladies who truly feel me
Throw your hands up at me.”

The music swelled and pulsed around them as each woman stalked her man, pressing them back into the plush sofas and dancing before them. The girls moved with power and grace, and the men could only stare.

Finally, Daye’s voice broke into the melody. She sang loud and with vibrant emotion.

“Child of Destiny
Independent beauty
No one else can scare me”

The other two women moved to flank her and they all stepped up onto the table before the sofa. A spotlight shone down on the three of them as their voices joined in the chorus.

The refrain repeated again and again until it slowly faded and the shop grew silent. The three women stood atop the table and stared down at their men.

Galen grimaced and stood, gingerly offering his wife a hand down. She stepped off of the table, followed by the two other women. When everyone was standing together on the floor once again, Drew sighed and said, “Maybe we should all consider just working on this problem alone.”

(1) NSync "I Promise You"
(2) Destiny's Child "Independent Women" with altered lyrics

Daye's Secret

Submitted by Firefly on Thu, 01/27/2005 - 14:28.

*** Monday, July 16, 2007, 5:30 pm ***

Daye and Drew had meant to do more research here at the house. They’d intended to when they’d left Kate’s shop, but then Maia had needed them to help her get ready for bed, and Sam had been headed out the door for an evening with Alicia Wyldling. After Maia was tucked in, the phone had rung and Drew had been stuck on with his mother for nearly an hour. Daye had set a few things right while she waited. Looking into the mystery today with Drew by her side had been fun, with the exception of all that weirdness at Bonne Sante, and she didn’t want to go on without him. They’d pulled out some books and made a half hearted effort, but the day had already been so long and Daye thought a little break wouldn’t hurt anything. They’d cuddled up in the hammock in the backyard nearly an hour ago, though, and Daye couldn’t rouse any enthusiasm for the idea of taking a break from their “break”.

Daye lay sprawled across Drew’s chest, her cheek pressed to his t-shirt and her eyes closed. She listened to the steady, reassuring sound of his heart beating beneath her ear and snuggled into him. Drew had his arms wrapped around her loosely and he was stroking her back through the thin material of her cotton sundress. She felt amazingly, unbelievably content. With a sigh, Daye lifted her head and looked up into Drew’s warm blue eyes. Her heart swelled with emotion, and almost on impulse, Daye brought her hand to Drew’s cheek and spoke. “I love you, Drew…”

Daye felt a flood of joy and relief as she realized that she meant those words, truly meant them for the first time in weeks. She loved this man. He was decent, and kind, and generous, and more deserving of her love than anyone she’d ever known. After finally letting go of the confusion that had clouded her mind and heart, Daye could once again experience the peace and happiness than being with Drew brought her.

Drew smiled down at Amanda. She seemed to finally be getting past the hurt and confusion that had plagued their relationship over the last few months. He loved her so much, and he loved seeing her this way. But…he couldn’t deny the questions plaguing him. “I love you too, Baby,” he said. “I love you more every day…and I never want anything to come between us again. That’s why I have to ask you…what happened with Marcus Dalton? What was he talking about the night of the other night? Is there something I should know? Something that you need to tell me?”

Daye felt her happiness melt away. *Goddess why?* She still couldn’t believe what Marcus had done the other night at that party. She never would have guessed that she’d have to worry about his discretion, but then again Marcus had seemed very…different that night. Daye had begun to seriously worry about him, right up until the point that he’d flashed that evil grin and sent her world spinning. And now she had to try and set it right again. What could she say? Drew was entitled to the truth, at least the truth. *He’s entitled to a faithful wife who loves him, but he’s got a weak, foolish slut instead.*

*I can’t tell him…I can’t tell him any of it,* Daye thought desperately. She’d been stupid, and selfish…and if Drew knew the truth, he would never believe that she loved him now. He would never be able to accept that she’d simply been out of her head, and she couldn’t tell him about her feelings for Marcus, present or past tense. Drew hated Marcus. He had never understood her friendship with the man. He would never be able to forgive her for what she’d done. *I was wrong,* Daye thought bitterly. *I don’t just regret making love to you, Marcus. I wish I’d never met you in the first place.*

“Does it matter?” Daye asked Drew softly. “Marcus is…that’s over. He’s not any part of my life anymore…and I’m glad for it. He’s not who I thought he was. I…I never should have had anything to do with him. And I know you tried to tell me that, and I know that my friendship with him made things harder for us. I’m really sorry for that, Drew.”

*More sorry than I can ever tell you,* she added to herself.

“It’s okay, Baby,” Drew soothed. “We both did things…wrong. That doesn’t matter now…but…I still need to know. For my sanity, please, just explain to me what he meant the other night.”

Drew could see the man’s smug satisfaction when his barb had hit home. There was…something, something that Amanda hadn’t told him. Drew had to know what that was.

*I can’t,* Daye pleaded with him silently. She slipped her other hand up to cup his cheek and sidled up Drew’s body. “Please, let’s not talk about this now,” she murmured, stretching to brush her lips against his. “Marcus…he doesn’t matter. He’s not important. You…you’re what matters to me. We matter. I love you.”

Daye kissed him, pouring herself into the kiss. She tried to convince him with her embrace to just let things be. But her kiss, the underlying desperation of it, only fueled Drew’s need more. Whatever had happened, it did matter. It was something major, and though he was growing more and more convinced that he knew exactly what it was, Drew needed for Amanda to tell him. If she did that, no matter how it hurt, at least he’d know she wasn’t trying to hide. He could deal with anything. He would, if only she could love him enough to be completely open with him once again.

Drew pulled away from Amanda’s kiss. “Baby…we have to talk about this now,” he reasoned. “It’s eating away at me. I need to know.”

Daye pushed up away from him. “I…I don’t want to,” she responded, rising off the hammock. Drew jumped up to follow her as she moved back towards the house. He caught her at the back door.

“Amanda, just trust me,” he said. “I love you too. And whatever you have to tell me won’t change that. Nothing has ever been able to change that.”

Daye wanted to believe him, but she knew that he couldn’t be as sure as he sounded. “I…I can’t,” she admitted softly. “I’m afraid.”

Drew sighed. *First my fear and now hers,* he thought. “Baby, I understand. Believe me, I do, but you can’t let fear come between us.”

*The way that you did?* Daye was ashamed at the bitterness she felt. “Drew…I don’t want to talk about this. Please, just let it go.”

Daye stepped through the door and left Drew standing in the yard. She made her way into the living room. Her back was stiff and her face was a mask of anguish. Drew followed her, a determined look on his handsome face.

“We have to talk about this, Amanda,” he reiterated. “I…I swore I wouldn’t hide from you anymore. I thought you agreed. I thought you understood.”

Drew came up to where she’d stopped by the window, watching him carefully.

“Just talk to me, Baby,” Drew said, his tone plaintive. “Tell me what’s wrong? Tell me what’s going on? I know something happened that night. It’s killing my not knowing what. Whatever you have to tell me, this is worse. It’s worse if I just let my imagination fill in the blanks. Please, Amanda, tell me the truth. I can handle it.”

Daye shook her head, backing away. *I can’t tell him. I won’t.*

Daye’s mouth opened as music suddenly filled the room. Drew glanced up in surprise and then back at her as she began to sing. She seemed both horrified and out of control of herself.

“Please don’t ask me. I can’t say.
I promised I’d never hurt you again that way.”

“Baby, just tell me what’s on your mind,” Drew urged.

“I won’t. I can’t. Don’t ask that of me.
I promised myself it would never be.
I’ll be alright. Just don’t ask that of me.”

Daye shook her head violently as she struggled to stop the song spilling from her lips.

“We’re supposed to be happy,” Drew argued. “We’re newlyweds. Whatever is happening, we can fix it together.”

“No, we can’t. I won’t. Don’t ask me again.
We can’t talk now when we didn’t talk then.”

“I know I pushed you away before, but I’m ready to talk to you now,” Drew said. “Just, please, Baby, tell me what happened.”

Daye shook her head and backed away. Her movements were a dance and her words rang out to the music around them.

“You never wanted to talk. You never wanted to hear.
You tied us up in knots with ropes made of fear.
Now you’re begging me to say what I want to keep inside.
Now after all this time, you won’t let me hide.
Why now, when it’s too late?
What’s the point in tempting fate?”

Drew stared in confusion as she whirled around and the music swelled. “Baby? What’s going on?”

Daye threw her head back and sang out.

“You didn’t want to talk. You didn’t want to know.
I kept on trying, because you wanted it so.
I tried and I cried and I lied.
But in the end our love still died.
Under the weight of your fear,
my heart broke right here.
It’s too late for us to turn back now.
I don’t know where to go and I don’t know how.
But I’m tired of crying and I’m tired of pretending.
I’m tired of lying. I’m just so tired of everything.”

“I tried so hard to be what you needed. I tried to ignore what I feel.
I don’t know where else to turn. I don’t know anymore what is real.”

“I beg you to please not ask me.
Can’t you just let it be.
Everything I’ve done not to hurt you,
Keeping this secret that I do.
You pushed me away again and again.
Where was I supposed to go then?
When I needed, you were nowhere around.
Is it my fault if I took what I found?”

“He was willing to listen to my fears.
To hold my hand and dry my tears.
I tried not to fall. I tried not to care.
But he was there when you were nowhere.
I never meant to hurt you.
Something I swore never to do.
I want to trust you, but I can’t say.
Can’t answer the question you ask today.”

”I’ve tried. I can’t go on that way.
I can’t live like that everyday.
I’ve made my peace in my heart.
I’m ready for this brand new start.
But you have to know what was killing me.
It was your love that wouldn’t let me be.
Had lost my love for you in here.
Lost it in all your fear.
Then I found love for someone new.
But I never meant for that to hurt you.”

“Please, don’t make me say.
I want to take the words away.”

Daye visibly struggled, anguish apparent in the lines of her face, the set of her body. She was fighting, fighting to keep the last line, the final secret, buried. But the compulsion, the hideous magic she was caught in would not be denied. The music dropped to accommodate as she sang, soft and sad…

“When I made love to him, I betrayed you.
That’s not what I ever intended to do.”

The last words and notes hung heavily in the silence that followed. Drew stared incredulously at Daye as she stood there panting. Her hair hung in her face as she slowly lifted her head to look him in the eyes.

“Him?” Drew asked softly. “Dalton?”

Daye nodded, tears shining in her eyes. For all the pain she’d gone through trying to make this work, this was her reward. She’d poured her heart out, told him the ugly truth, in some rock opera extravaganza. She’d had no control. “Drew…I…”

“No!” he cut her off. “Don’t say anything else. I can’t…You…it wasn’t just…you love him?”

Daye shook her head emphatically. “No…I mean…I did…or I thought I did…I don’t know.”

“You went to see him the night before we were married,” Drew said, his voice terrifyingly flat. “And you slept with him…is that what happened?”

Daye nodded. She wanted to go to Drew, but her fear held her frozen in place. She didn’t know, couldn’t know, what he was thinking as he stood there so still and quiet.

“And what happened then?” Drew asked. “Why did you go ahead and come back to me? What did he do to you, Amanda? Did he hurt you? Did you realize then that he’d only been using you? Tell me what happened to make you show up on that beach the next day if you thought you were in love with another man, because I know you and I can’t figure this out.”

“I…he…it was a mistake,” Daye said. She could see the wheels turning in Drew’s head, see the conclusions he was making. She had to make him see, to make him understand. “Just a stupid mistake. I thought…but when I told him…he…”

“He what?” Drew’s voice now held a touch of impatience. “What did he do to you? Tell me the rest.”

“He…he threw me out,” Daye admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I told him I loved him and he threw me out.”

Drew nodded once. He’d been waiting to hear just that. It was exactly what he’d thought, exactly what he’d realized when she’d said she loved Dalton. Not that the bastard deserved her love, but that was hardly the point. He’d known all along that Dalton was that much of a bastard, and he hated that Daye had had to be hurt so deeply to realize it…but…

“I…I didn’t know what to do,” Daye was going on in that same soft whisper. “I had…I thought…and you…I was hurt and confused. I’d made such a mess of everything and I didn’t want to…I couldn’t let you be hurt by it too…so…”

Drew’s face blossomed into an expression of pure horror. “Wait…what? What are you saying?”

Daye’s eyes flew to his face. She saw that he was suddenly more angry and hurt than before. “I…I knew if I just…I knew I could get past it…and you…I wanted to make you happy…”

“So…Oh my God…if he hadn’t…” Drew laughed harshly. “That’s what you’re saying, right? Amanda? Is that what you mean?”

“What?” Daye was bewildered.

“What if he hadn’t thrown you out?” Drew spat. “What then? Would we even be here, or would you be with him now? Just tell me the truth…did I win by default?”

“Wha…Drew…no…this isn’t about that,” Daye said. “It’s not about winning. This is about…it shouldn’t matter. I did things I’m ashamed of, and I just…I love you…I don’t want to…we can still fix this.”

Drew looked at her as if she were mad. “How? How, Amanda? How do we fix this? You…you’re in love with another man. You should have told me before…you should have been honest with me.”

“No…Drew…it’s not like that…it was a mistake. I was wrong. I didn’t…he didn’t care for me at all. I was an idiot to think that there was anything more there than simple lust. He told me so.”

Drew looked suddenly weary. “It doesn’t matter what he told you. I know you, Amanda. If you told him you loved him, then that’s what you felt. And that’s the problem. I know I said I could handle this…but…I don’t think…no, the truth is, I just can’t.”

Drew moved towards the front door and Daye followed him, tears rolling down her cheeks. “I…I need some time. I have to figure out…I don’t know what to do. I can’t think…and I’m so…god, I’m really angry. I don’t think it would be a very good idea, talking to you right now. I have to get out of her for a while. I can’t…I just can’t be here with you.”

“What?” Daye looked lost and confused. “But…where are you going? You can’t just…we need to talk about this.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Drew retorted, “I can’t stay here. I can’t talk to you right now. How could you…how can I…how did this…Amanda, I have to…I…I have to get away for a while. I just…I need some time.”

Daye stared in horror as he backed away from her. Where just a short time before, there had been such love in his eyes, now there was fury and hurt. Daye couldn’t bear to see him this way. “Drew…I’m so sorry. Please…don’t go…don’t leave like this. I love you…”

Drew eyes narrowed and his mouth twisted into an ugly sneer. “Yeah, well, right now, I’m not sure your love is worth a hell of a lot, Amanda. Just…let me be for a while. It’s what I need.”

Drew turned on his heel and fled the house. Moments later, he was driving away. Daye watched his car disappear around the bend. The late afternoon sun still shone down upon her, but Daye shivered from the sudden chill that encased her heart.

Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007

Submitted by Heather on Thu, 01/27/2005 - 20:05.

Monday, 16th July 2007 – 6:30pm
The Peninsula Beverly Hills Hotel

Almost jittery with excitement, Tash rushed out of the elevator and down the hall to Onyx’s room. She was still buzzing with this morning’s musical revelation and couldn’t wait to share it with her lover. Humming part of the chorus, Tash knocked on the door, a grin plastered over her face.

Goodbye old you,
When love is true.

Onyx looked up at her door and let a well-practised smile slide across her features. Tash was here again and now that Onyx had retrieved the information she wanted from the woman there was no need to continue the charade of their mutual love. Their relationship would have to continue for a time since Onyx wanted them to part amicably, but by the end of today Onyx’s magic would start to reverse the situation it had originally created.

Onyx opened the door and greeted Tash with a kiss a little less passionate than normal before she invited her in.

If Tash noticed the lack, she gave no sign of it as she bounced into the room and pirouetted in the centre of the living area, her arms outstretched.

“You’ll never believe what happened this morning,” she began breathlessly. Rushing towards Onyx, Tash enveloped her in a fierce hug. “You mean so much to me; I can’t believe I was so lucky as to find you.”

Onyx replied without quite the same vigour, “And I you…” Onyx could say that quite truthfully even if she didn’t mean it the way Tash no doubt heard it. Onyx pressed another gentle kiss to Tash’s lips. “So, what did happen this morning?”

“Well, it was actually a bit odd… but really, at the time it seemed perfectly natural. This morning I thought it was just me but I saw some guys doing a musical extravaganza finale in the middle of the street just after lunchtime, so I tried to call Kate this afternoon just to get her opinion – but she wasn’t home.”

Tash smiled at Onyx, kissing her lover once more before explaining, “I sang a song this morning. It came from nowhere, really, but it was like a revelation. Through the words I could see just how much you really, really mean to me. I thought I was happy with Victor; that we shared the deepest bond two beings could, but with you it goes even further than that. My time with Victor was just to open the way so I’d be ready for your love. I used to keep everyone out of reach. If I’d still been like that when I met you, I might never have opened up to you the way I have.”

Brushing back a tendril of Onyx’s lustrous hair, Tash began planting gentle kisses on her cheeks, her nose, her earlobes, finishing with a long, tender kiss on her soft mouth. “I love you so much, Onyx. You’re everything to me,” she whispered.

Onyx tried her best to avoid stiffening in alarm. She’d known about Victor but she’d never intended to supplant him in Tash’s affections, merely generate sufficient depth of emotion to convince Tash to go along with her plans. Obviously she’d miscalculated. Badly.

“I love you, too.” Onyx pressed a kiss into the curve of Tash’s shoulder. It would do no harm to play along with this. Once her magic unravelled Tash’s feelings, their relationship would be nothing more than a pleasant memory.

For several long moments they remained locked in their embrace. Then Tash felt a familiar stirring. A sultry smile crossed her features as she stepped back from Onyx and listened to the opening piano chords. She lifted her face and sang in clear tones of the love she felt for this remarkable creature before her.

Natural Woman

Waking up, knowing Victor’s gone
I used to feel devastated,
And when I knew I’d have to face another day
Lord, it made me desolated.
Before the day I met you, life was so unkind
Your love was the key to my peace of mind.

’Cause you make me feel,
You make me feel,
You make me feel like
A natural woman

Onyx looked at Tash in slightly open-mouthed horror. She could feel the need to follow the song bubbling up in her even as Tash started the chorus. The enchantment swirling around them was far too powerful to resist and Onyx opened her mouth to deliver a brutal betrayal through song.

I spent so long trying to find a way
To resurrect my old hive queen.
Spent centuries making Daltons breed,
But the pickings were still lean.
On the day I met you, I hatched a new scheme
Your brain was the key to realise my dream.

So I made you feel,
I made you feel,
I made you feel like
A natural woman

Tash heard the words coming from Onyx’s mouth, each one like a dagger to her heart. But in spite of the pain she couldn’t deny the feelings she felt for Onyx, the overwhelming love that burned her to her very soul. That couldn’t be caused by some contrivance of the demoness, surely?

As Onyx finished her chorus the music carried Tash along and she picked up the bridge, the echoes coming cruelly from Onyx’s perfect mouth until the final chorus, where they sang the tune in unison.

Oh, baby, what you done to me (what I done to you)
You make me feel so good inside (that was the plan)
And I just wanna be (my magic worked on you)
Close to you
You make me feel so alive

You make me feel
You know you make me feel,
You make me feel like
A natural woman

I made you feel

You make me feel
You make me feel
You make me feel like
A natural woman

I made you feel,
I made you feel,
I made you feel like
A natural woman

A natural woman A natural woman¹

The music died away, leaving Tash and Onyx facing each other across a space of a mere few feet that had widened to a gulf of infinite proportions. Tash felt her expression crumbling into one of disbelief and horror as she stared mutely at her lover.

Onyx watched Tash fall apart before her eyes and cursed the unknown intervention that had disrupted her carefully laid plans. Her manipulations couldn’t withstand the truth stated so baldly and there was no chance to salvage the situation. At a loss as how to proceed she stood there silently, watching with calm regard as Tash’s eyes filled with tears.

“You, you… You did this to me? What, none of it meant anything to you? But I never once sensed anything that didn’t fit… Onyx, tell me it’s not true...”

Onyx smiled tiredly. For a moment she considered lying but really it was too late, so she opted for honesty. “This,” Onyx held a hand before Tash, “is simply a shell. You never really touched me and I’ve presented a false front for over five centuries; for all your gifts you never had a chance to penetrate my disguise. There was also my magic…” Onyx shrugged. “Convincing the heart to see what it wishes to see is easier than you imagine.”

Tash nodded coldly, her tears remaining unshed, a pressure behind her eyes. When she spoke it was with a calm measure that did nothing to cover her inner turmoil. “I see. You know, I learned with Victor that appearances mean nothing. His shell – his disguise – didn’t hide who he truly was. I thought you… Well, obviously I was mistaken.”

She turned away from Onyx, unable to look at her any more. The way her hair fell in a perfect cascade down her soft, white shoulder, the way her eyes caught the light- *Stop it!* she berated herself. Taking a tentative step towards the door, Tash paused and half-turned, without resting her eyes on Onyx.

“Just tell me – now that you have what you wanted from me, how long were you going to maintain the charade? It’s already been two weeks. Another day? Another week? Were you just going to let me wonder what had gone wrong with our relationship, once you finally let me go?”

“Not too much longer; it was to start to fade after today. I let it go on this long so that the end wasn’t associated with the memories.” Onyx sighed, “I wasn’t going to let you wonder, exactly. It was to be a brief candle flare, an intense affair that couldn’t last but was wonderful while it did and left fond memories in its wake. Without this, you’d never have known. Perhaps you prefer the truth but I had no desire to hurt you unnecessarily. A beautiful illusion seemed best.”

Still with her head bowed, Tash nodded silently. It took a minute or two before she could trust her voice. “Well, that’s something I guess,” her tone gained a hard, bitter edge, “assuming you’re not spinning more bullshit now, of course. Maybe I should make you sing it,” she added, laughing hollowly. She could hear the edge of hysteria in her own laugh and stifled it quickly.

Gathering her shattered wits, Tash stood up straight, lifted her chin and stared Onyx in the eye at last. “There’s no need to see me out. I know the way.” Turning abruptly, she strode the two paces to the door and pulled it open, pausing in the open doorway just long enough to say: “Goodbye, Onyx,” before closing it gently behind her.

¹ Carole King – Natural Woman

Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007

Submitted by Heather on Thu, 01/27/2005 - 20:08.

Monday, 16th July 2007 – 6:52pm

Santa Monica Boulevard was a blur of colour and motion. Anger, bitterness and grief all warred within Tash for supremacy as she strode out of the hotel, her thoughts turned inward until the world outside may as well not exist. Bodies brushed past her, voices raised in irritation and protest, but she barely noticed. There was a screech of tyres and the crunch of metal hitting metal as cars collided nose-to-tail to avoid a girl-scout group performing what looked like a scene from “The Sound of Music” as their leader sang in her best imitation of Julie Andrews – Tash walked past the entire scene blindly.

She barely paid attention to the fact that she’d started running down the centre of the street, or that three girls had fallen into step behind her. But the driving beat she heard matched her mood perfectly, and the words spilled from her in a torrent.

So much for my happy ending

The girls following her joined in, singing harmonies to Tash’s melody.

Oh oh, oh oh,
So much for my happy ending
Oh oh, oh…

Tash stopped running, darting to the side of the road to stand beneath the eaves of an old movie theatre as a piano took up from where the guitar and drums faded away.

What's to talk over?
I heard what you said
But the magic you did
Is still stuck in my head.

I can’t stop this feeling,
My love isn’t dead
You held me so high
On such a breakable thread

You were all the things I thought I knew
And I thought we could be

The drums had returned, and now they burst into the same insistent beat they’d begun with as the guitars rejoined the music, the girls in their Tahoe t-shirts singing harmonies again.

You were everything, everything that I wanted
We were meant to be, supposed to be, but we lost it
All of my memories, so close to me, were torn away
All this time you were pretending
So much for my happy ending
Oh, oh,
So much for my happy ending
Oh, oh,

You had your reasons
For the lies that you spun
But I can’t forgive you
And it can’t be undone

I left myself open
For all of this pain
I let myself dare to love
And you put shit in my brain

You were all the things I thought I knew
And I thought we could be

Tash began walking again, stalking down the street with her entourage in tow, heedless of the traffic or of anything but the anger and hurt she carried inside. She felt betrayed, used, foolish, gullible, and so in love she thought her heart would break. Her tone took on a sarcastic edge for the bridge.

It's nice to know that you were there
Thanks for acting like you cared
And making me feel like I was the only one
It's nice to know we had it all
Thanks for watching as I fall
And letting me know we were done

Images of her times with Onyx flashed through her mind, all the warm emotions associated with them now tainted by the knowledge that the whole thing had been nothing more than… how was it Onyx had put it? Oh yes, a ‘beautiful illusion’. Tash snorted, and launched right back into the fierce chorus.

She was everything, everything that I wanted
We were meant to be, supposed to be, but we lost it
All of my memories, so close to me, were torn away
All this time you were pretending
So much for my happy ending

The music stopped, the girls drifted away and once more the sounds of a busy Santa Monica Boulevard rose up around Tash. She paid it as little heed as she had before. Turning back the way she’d come, she retrieved her bike and roared off down the road towards the sea then headed north, not stopping until she reached Memorial Beach. With her shoes dangling from one hand she kicked up the sand along the beach before making her way to the sapling that marked the only grave Victor would ever have.

Quietly Tash hummed to herself, the tune dissolving into a soft rendition of her song from the morning.

What was that feeling taking over?
Now I must learn to slam shut the door
Surprise, it’s time
To feel what’s real
What happened to Miss Independent?
Time once again to be defensive
Hello old Tash
Now love is trash²

¹ Avril Lavigne – My Happy Ending
² Kelly Clarkson – Miss Independent

Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007

Submitted by MrDave on Sat, 01/29/2005 - 12:19.

[Cue the credits – house lights come up a little]
The scene closes on the sky with the credits rolling. The Announcer walks across the stage wheeling a barbeque grill with him. He stops at the microphone and puts on an apron that says “Kiss the Cook”.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you our hero: very rare and somewhat spicy. He is offered on a platter for your judgment and disposal with a side-dish of slaw. If you don’t care for our little dinner theatre please feel free to pass over our offering and go straight to the dessert – angel food cake (groans from the audience). Anything you don’t eat we’ll feed to the band.”

In the pit, several of the demons start to slobber until Sweet taps his music stand reprovingly.

“Please excuse me,” - a voice from the crowd.

The announcer waves to the lighting engineers to put a spot into the crowd. A woman stands and holds a hand up against the glare of the spotlight. “Does an angel have to be pure? Or is it okay to be a sinner and an angel?”

The announcer looks shocked and then peers at the woman. “Margaret isn’t it?” and he smiles giving her a polite clap for her question, “No, dear, he does not have to be pure to be an angel. Only Saints and Messiahs are required to be that clean.”

Several “oh’s” of enlightenment come from the crowd. In the pit, a demon mutters until the tap silences him too.

The announcer listens to the murmur for a few more seconds then reaches into his pocket and pulls out an envelope. He holds it up and the audience quiets. With a rustle of paper he opens it and a golden ring of light slips from it and clatters to the floor.

“Oops! Butterfingers,” the Announcer mugs to a light chuckle.

Picking up the halo, he sets it on the hibachi and turns back to the crowd, “It seems that being repentant to the end has elevated our boy again. I’ll see that this gets to its rightful place again. Thank you for being a gracious audience. You’ve been a positively lovely crowd. I guess there really is no place like home.”

Azrael holds the hibachi and chants while clicking his ruby red shoes, “There is no place like home. There is no place like home. There is no place like home. There is no place like home.”

[The stage lights dim and the house lights return]

*** Monday 16th July 2007 7:31 pm ***
Oz sat straight up in his bed in his apartment at Longwood Estates. “What the fuck!” he said too loudly and too forcefully. He ran to the mirror. Floating four inches above his head was a glowing ring. He was an angel again.

The Devil Went Down to L.A. Third Movement (Finale)

Submitted by MrDave on Sat, 01/29/2005 - 12:22.

*** Monday July 16, 2007 7:00 pm ***
The Curtain Rises

Melvin stepped into Gloria’s apartment. All of the furniture was facing to his left. On that side of the room there was a vast black expanse with bright lights and the dead sound of an audience holding its breath. Gloria was seated in her chair facing the television. She looked pasty and white under the bright lights. She looked at him entering the room with wide eyes. Fear. But a fear that she couldn’t speak.

Melvin looked out into the darkness and heard a muffled cough. There was an expectant feel. A voice whispered behind him, “Hello Julia. I am back.”

Melvin looked backwards and said, “What?” There was a faint chuckle from the audience. Melvin began to sweat. He looked into the shadows off to the left of the stage. “Who is that?” he said stepping closer to the shadow.

A large wooden face looked at Melvin from behind the door to Gloria’s apartment. Its ventriloquist dummy mouth moved and it said, “Mark! Line: ‘Hello, Julia, I’m Back.’,” in a hoarse stage whisper.

Melvin turned as if forced and looked at Gloria. She was on the edge of her chair still facing the TV. She looked terrified but sat rigid as if held in place. Melvin started to say ‘Gloria’ but he was so disoriented he said ‘Julia’ instead. “I made it,” he said.

Gloria looked relieved ever so slightly but jerked upright and stood. She moved woodenly and stopped a few paces from him. “Come back to gloat?” she said loudly and towards the audience, “Come back to tell me how worthless my career as an actress is?”

She turned her back on him. “Or did you come back to tell me you don’t want to see me any more, Marvin? Is that why you came back?”

Marvin. Julia. He was in the third act. He hadn’t written it yet. He struggled to make sense of what was happening. He knew…felt this was how it would began. He could feel it in his guts and he surrendered to it. He stepped into the moment.

“No, Julia, I came back to ask you to star in my play. I found a backer and I told them I wanted you to star in the musical.”

Music swelled and the stage pieces rolled back to reveal the full stage. Melvin could see puppet-men pulling back the scenery and moving scaffolds around to set the stage. It was a stage on a stage (on a stage?). He and Gloria sang a song abut how fast things were moving how the songs had a life of their own. How they had woken from the dream to discover a dream within a dream (within a dream?).

They sang a medley of the songs that Melvin had written for the first two acts – the songs of the ‘play’ in the play (in the play?). And Melvin found the set evolving around him to a tighter, more intimate set. A dressing room.

Jul…Gloria – Melvin shook his head to keep it clear. He wasn’t Marvin; his name was Melvin. Gloria sat at a makeup table looking into the mirror. Her spotlight was blue and she sat frozen as if this cutaway was his solo. But Melvin was at a loss, he had no idea where he was going from here.

“Hello, Marvin, remember me? The backer for your musical vision?”

The voice was oily and slick. Melvin turned to see a red-faced demon walk into the set. He had a clear spot on him and his suit was a brilliant opalescent blue. He tapped his foot and the clear sounds of shoe-taps sounded.

He sang a verse and Marvin instantly recognized the tune that he had hummed to activate the amulet. He sang to Melvin (playing the character Marvin) about how he had not read all the fine print on their agreement. He had agreed to back the play until it turned a profit.

His tap-dancing moves had brought him to Gloria’s side. As he whirled her about in her seat he pointed to the amulet – the demon amulet – around her neck. He sang about how the profit had been made. The deal had been paid, and the show was at an end.

He sang about how the leading lady had been cast and now Marvin wouldn’t last because he couldn’t carry the show alone. But he would throw Marvin a bone. He could keep the songs for free.

Marvin launched at the demon but the puppet-headed men grabbed him and held him back. He raged at the demon, “She isn’t yours! This is a trick you never told me at the time!”

The tune subtly changed; it became darker, more sinister. The red-faced demon smiled crookedly and held up one taloned palm. “Caught red-handed,” he chortled.

He sang again slowly to the new tune. It was a new deal: Marvin had to write a song - just one song that wasn’t inspired by the demon. That was the price to buy her back. Oh and it had to be good enough for her. No simple sing-song silliness, Melvin. A good song.

There was a deafening silence. Melvin was suddenly aware of the audience that sat out there in the darkness ready to judge his offering. They were there to weigh the merit of his songwriting skill.

His mind raced. Every melody he brought to mind was something from the show. It was maddeningly like trying to remember a song on the edge of memory while listening to another song on the radio. The demon pulled out a gold watch and flipped it open. “Tick-tock, Melvin, I have appointments to keep.”

Melvin hummed a tune. It was a simple tune with a slightly country beat. He hummed it again from the beginning and then did a variation on it for the third stanza. The fourth was the same as the first. Then Melvin added words.

“I see you in my dreams and I see you in my days,
I see you in the shadows and in the sunshine’s rays
I see you all around my world you fill my every look
I want to see you always you are the pages in my book

“You are-“

The demon stopped him, “Sorry, Marvin that melody is actually an old blues tune recorded in 1932 by a sharecropper name Washington that I sold to him for the paltry sum of his soul in a crossroads one hot July night. The lyrics are original, but you can ask George Harrison how far that will fly in court. Sorry, Melvin,” he said handing him an old record, “Here’s that 1932 recording as a consolation prize. Thanks for playing.”

The audience said “awww!” before replacing it with polite applause. The curtain fell. The lights came up. Melvin stood in Gloria’s apartment and marveled at the slight smell of sulfur. He blinked and looked down at the two-thirds completed musical he still gripped in his sweaty palm.

There will be a concluding postlude at 9pm

Dangerously In Love

Submitted by Meredith Bell on Mon, 01/31/2005 - 14:46.

Monday, 16th July 2007 – 6:23pm
The Home of Kate and Galen Eldridge

Kate sighed as she twisted her key in the lock and pushed the door open. A warm blast of stale air hit her face upon entering the hallway reminding her that her father was still away on business and that the house had been left empty since their departure on Friday.

She placed her bags on the floor by the hallway table while dropping her keys on the tray by the phone. The tiny red light on the answer machine blinked away frantically and Kate pressed the PLAY button before hanging up her coat on the hat-stand.

[serif]You have five new messages… Saturday, eight-twenty-two, am…[/serif]

Galen stumbled into the hallway as the answerphone started up, replaying its catalogue of messages. He and Kate hadn’t really said much since they’d left Bonne Santé that afternoon but that wasn’t to say that he hadn’t spent most of his time thinking over everything that had happened. He couldn’t help but feel a little hurt by Kate’s lyrical revelations, just as her declaration of love had made his heart smile; the announcement that she didn’t need him to look after her left him feeling sore.

Setting the rest of their luggage on the floor next to his wife’s bag, Galen quietly wandered into the living room.

The answer machine played on…

[serif]…Sunday, nine-thirty-five, pm…[/serif]

“Hi, it’s Marianne. I’m afraid I’ve had a sort of family emergency. Nothing too serious but my mom had a bit of a fall and I had to take her to County. She’s going to be okay but I just wanted to let you know that I took the cat to Mrs Schroder next door. I’ll call you later… Oh! I hope you both had a great weekend, bye…”

BEEP

[serif]…Monday, one-forty-four, pm…[/serif]

"Uh, hi Kate, it’s Tash. I was just ringing to see if... well, if everything was okay there. Um, just in case you might have, you know, started singing about things, maybe. Anyway, nothing really to worry about. Just call me when you get home. I'll be in until about 6ish..."

“Damn,” mumbled Kate as she checked her watch, her fingers poised over the telephone before she turned and walked into the living room. Galen sat on the couch with his eyes fixed on the television; a sullen frown clouded his features as he pointed the remote at the screen, flicking through the channels with disinterest.

“Darling?” said Kate quietly, hanging back in the doorway for a few seconds before walking inside. She took the remote out of Galen’s hands and promptly switched off the television.

“Aren’t you even going to talk to me now? Galen I said I was sorry it was just a stupid song, I got caught up in the moment that’s all. It didn’t mean anything…”

“So you don’t feel like I’m… I’m… trying to control you or, or, tell you what to do or whatever that song was about?”

Kate crouched low by Galen’s feet, folding her arms over his knees. “Sometimes you act like you can protect me from everything bad that happens in this world,” she rested her head on her hands and sighed. “But you know… there are some things even you can’t protect me from.”

She looked up at her husband and smiled gently, “I don’t want you to feel like you’re responsible for my wellbeing. I love you but I can take care of myself – even when things go wrong.”

“I’m never going to stop wanting to take care of you,” admitted Galen sullenly, “whether you need it or not. I know what that Liala woman said was right… I’m a mortal like Drew, and you… you’re a powerful witch. I can feel inadequate on my own without you adding to it.”

“I didn’t mean to make you feel that way…” said Kate quietly, still resting her head on Galen’s knees. “I certainly don’t think of you like that. You give me so much,” she said, tilting her head so that she could look up at him. “I don’t need you to be running into the fray, risking your life all the time to make me feel safe. I do anyway, just being with you makes me feel safe.”

She gently rubbed her cheek against his knee, “and your love gives me more strength than you’ll ever know.”

Running his fingers through her hair, Galen suddenly stopped. “Really?” he asked, his voice full of surprise.

Kate sat up straight. “What do you mean, ’really’ I tell you often enough! Don’t start saying you don’t know how much I love you.”

“It’s not that…” said Galen thoughtfully, pausing for a moment. “It’s just… well… so far every musical interlude we’ve gone through today has been started by me.”

“Well I sang back didn’t I?” said Kate irritably, rising to her feet.

“You know what I mean…”

“So what are you saying?” Kate said suddenly without even thinking. “You want to hear me sing?”

Before she even knew what was happening, music filled the room and Kate was taking Galen by the hands, pulling him up out of his chair. As the into chords dwindled, the living room faded out of view. Kate waved her arm through the air and with a twinkle of shimmering magic they were stood outside in the garden beneath a sky full of stars.

Click to Download MP3 File

“Baby I love you, you are my life.*
My happiest moments weren't complete if you weren't by my side.
You're my relation in connection to the sun,
With you next to me; there's no darkness I can't overcome.
You are my raindrops, I am the sea,
With you and Gaia who's my sunlight I bloom and grow so beautifully.
Baby I'm so proud, proud to be your girl,
You make the confusion go all away from this cold and messed-up world.”

Kate spread her arms wide, tipping her face up to the dark star-dusted skies as she twirled around in a circle. “I am in love with you!” she sang joyfully, “You set me free! I can't do this thing called life without you here with me.”

She danced gracefully, her arms swaying in the air and her legs criss-crossing like some exotic far-eastern courtesan as she cavorted and twirled around her husband.

“Cause I'm dangerously in love with you,
I'll never leave!
Just keep loving me the way I love you loving me.”

As the music slowed again, Kate stopped her impassioned dancing and took Galen’s hands. They sat together on the porch steps, the pale glow of the moon rising out of the garden as though it had been made just for them.

“And I know you love me, love me for who I am,” sang Kate, her hands cupping Galen’s face gently.

“Cause years before I became who I am, baby you were my man.
I know it ain't easy, easy loving me,
I appreciate the love and dedication from you to me.
Later on in our destiny I know I’ll be having your child,
I see myself always your wife; I see my whole future in your eyes.
Thought of all my love for you, sometimes makes me wanna cry,
Realise all of my blessings, I'm grateful to have you by my side.”

The music swelled again, beautiful harmonies complimenting Kate’s voice on a ghostly breeze. She held Galen in her arms as she sang, her hand circled his body as they rose from the ground, floating… flying up into the sky until they were bathed in a sea of white clouds and moonlight.

Galen opened his mouth to sing, to answer his wife’s honest declaration but Kate shook her head to silence him. This was her song, she didn’t need Galen to return a love she knew was her own. All she wanted was to let him know how she felt.

“I am in love with you!
You set me free!
I can't do this thing called life without you here with me.
Cause I'm dangerously in love with you,
I'll never leave!
Just keep loving me the way I love you loving me.”

Kate smiled softly, her love and devotion physically warming her features. She took Galen’s hands and drew him close, trailing her fingers down his cheek.

“Every time I see your face, my heart smiles.
Every time it feels so good, it hurts sometimes.
Created in this world to love,
To hold, to feel, to breathe, to live you!
Dangerously in love!”

The skies seemed to explode with stars, falling down like rain. Galen closed his eyes tightly and when he opened them again, he was sat at the window in their bedroom. Kate continued to dance around while she sang. As she moved around the room, candles lit themselves, the naked flames flickering brightly in the otherwise dark room.

Kate twirled around, her sundress vanishing to be replaced by a sexy little chemise as she collapsed on the bed, sprawled out on the sheets still singing.

”Cause I am in love with you!
You set me free!
I can't do this thing called life without you here with me.
Cause I'm dangerously in love with you,
I'll never leave
Just keep loving me the way I love you loving me.”

As the music died down, Galen crawled on the bed next to his wife. She smiled happily pulling him down into her arms, her voice breathless and supine as she continued to sing her end with delirious intention.

”Dangerously, dangerous, dangerously, dangerously, dangerously …in love…”
_____________________________________________________________

* “Dangerously in Love” - Beyonce

And Now... The Ministry Sings!

Submitted by Meredith Bell on Mon, 01/31/2005 - 15:00.

Monday, 16th July 2007 – 8:02pm
The Residence of The Ministry, Beverly Hills

Starring – Sam Neill as Elliot, Pierce Brosnan as Carmichael, Kevin Spacey as Dr Gemmel, Gary Oldman as Dragomir and Jorja Fox as Dr Jillian Lennon

“My point is what you well know, we’re under a very strict time limit from here on in. There is no room for waiting; we need to begin setting our short term plans into action. The Prophecy…”

“The Prophecy? What do YOU know about the Prophecy Gemmel, that which isn’t spoon-fed to you from HQ at any rate?”

Dragomir looked up from his newspaper at his two colleagues, over the past month Aimes and the good doctor had been bickering more than usual. It was what he had come to expect from humans, even the cursed ones such as Carmichael – being in demon form for almost five-hundred-years had done nothing to sate his impatience.

“I know enough!” Gemmel spat back in retaliation. “I know that she must have the blood of her fellow man on her hands, that she must strike her victim down in an act of pure rage!”

Suddenly there came a knock at the door, the sound echoed loudly through the large room interrupting the men’s zealous discourse. Slowly the door opened and a young girl poked her head around the corner.

“I was just looking for the Professor…”

“Dr Lennon!” said Elliot as he came up behind her. He pushed the door open further and ushered her inside. “I’ve just finished your report, wonderful, really… wonderful.” He placed a hand on her narrow shoulder as they joined the trio. “Gentlemen, you should take a lesson in efficiency from this young woman.”

Jillian perched on the edge of one of the vacant chair, glancing around at the other men and nervously tucking her dull brown hair behind her ears. “No, no, really,” she stammered uneasily, “I-I-I-I…”

“Nonsense!” declared Elliot, cutting short her stammering. “Credit where credit’s due. You did a good job in England; you were efficient, professional… above reproach. I must admit I had my reservations, sending such a young woman to cover this – working both sides can be a difficult task even for the most experienced agent. But you handled it most admirably. I assume you have the final dose of serum ex-42 with you?”

“In my room,” said Jillian dutifully, feeling a sting of guilt at how deceitfully she had managed to administer the first two injections. Hardly two months had passed since that time, still Jillian found herself thinking of Kate. She’d never met anyone like her before, so kind and selfless… and so incredibly pretty. Kate had made her feel happy for the first time in years, made her feel like she belonged, like she was worth something aside from her intellect.

Kate had been her friend and Jillian had repaid that by betraying her. More and more Jillian found herself wondering how Kate was and wanting more than anything to make contact again.

“I can get it…” she said hastily, rising from her chair as she felt all eyes fixed on her.

Elliot nodded and Jillian practically ran out of the room in her haste to be free from the unrelenting gaze of her peers. Stifling a smile, Elliot turned his attention to the other three men. “So… how are our happy little couple doing?”

Carmichael smiled as he rose to his feet. He picked up a silver dish and set it before his master before filling it with water from a pitcher. “Here… take a look for yourself…”

Waving his hands over the pool of water, Elliot peered into the shallow depths, uttering a quiet incantation.

“Waters reveal that which I seek,
A spyglass to allow me a stolen peek.
Of hearts entwined and lovers true,
The power of sight I now imbue.”

Slowly the clear waters became cloudy as a picture began to emerge, swirling in the silver dish before settling. There was no sound but the image was as lucid as any video camera, clearly depicting the redhead witch and her husband engaged in an intimate act of lovemaking.

Elliot raised his eyebrow with cynicism at Carmichael before shaking his head and turning back to the scrying dish. “I think we should give them some privacy,” he said as he stirred his finger across the surface, distorting the picture yet maintaining the connection.

Turning away from the trembling images, Elliot redirected his attention on his fellow colleagues. “Perhaps one of you could manage to update me on this current situation?”

“Sweet-“ blurted out Gemmel before quickly biting his tongue. “I sent some of our operatives to check things out. It doesn’t seem to be out of control yet. Thankfully we appear to be unaffected.”

“Thankfully indeed,” laughed Carmichael, “hearing your singing voice really would be the last straw.”

Elliot smiled as the two men began to argue again. He’d learnt not to listen to their immature banter, like everyone else they were restless, just looking for a way to vent their frustration. Elliot’s eyes fell upon the scrying dish and the distorted images of the two lovers shimmering across the liquid surface.

“We must finalise our preparations,” he said suddenly as a strong musical intro began to play in the background. “Contact HQ and let them know that we’re ready to engage subject 1312.”

Rising from his chair Elliot began to sing. His voice was quiet yet certain as he faced the other three men, his hands placed firmly on his hips in a masterly fashion.

“A long time have I waited, *
For this moment to arrive,
This situation I’ve created,
Circumstances I’ve contrived…”

Elliot spun around, turning his back to the other men as he clenched his fists tightly, his eyes becoming glazed as he looked off into the distance with an air of promise.

“But the end now is impending,
Getting closer every day,
And soon we will be ending,
This long macabre play.”

As the music rushed to a crescendo, Gemmel, Dragomir and Carmichael all jumped to their feet, their arms outstretched as their voices merged with Elliot’s, singing loudly and with verve.

“Because we’ve seen The End,
We know what the future will hold,
It’s not difficult to comprehend
Just waiting for the final scene to unfold.”

Elliot turned back to the silver bowl, dipping his finger across the image so that it cleared. His eyes burned brightly at the depth of the passions that played out between the witch and her lover.

“Love can be a many splendoured thing,” he sang quietly.

“And a powerfully complex foe.
But young love often carries a sting,” tearing his hand through the fragile image, Elliot threw the bowl across the room with controlled ferocity.

“Soon I’ll separate Catherine from her beau!”

Returning to Elliot’s side, Dragomir, Carmichael and Gemmel waved their arms through the air, leaving a trail of colourful magical energies as they moved.

“Ours is a tough profession,” they sang in unison, circling Elliot in time to the surging music.
“It requires much devotion.
If you don’t mind the odd indiscretion...”

“Maybe you’ll land a top promotion!” sang Gemmel, claiming the final line for his own, his voice rich and robust much to Carmichael’s ire.

Ignoring his associates, Elliot continued his determined and angry singing.

“Elaborate plans, fantastic schemes,
Manipulating all your dreams.
And Great Destiny I will invoke,
For your conscience I intend to provoke.”

Out in the corridor the music sounded sweet and lulling to a downhearted Jillian as she returned from her room, the small box containing the final dose of serum ex-42 in her hands.

“The part I have played,
Will soon come to light,
A friend I’ve betrayed,
Oh! At the time it felt right.”

A sorrowful tear rolled down her cheek and she wiped it away with the back of her hand. Her voice rose melodically, beautiful and at the same time frightening in it’s loneliness.

“But recently I feel like the fool,
Playing with people’s lives.
It seems to me quite cruel,
It’s a game which no-one survives.”

Back in the main room, Elliot waved his hands high in the air – an energetic crash of cymbals and the emotive scream of violins filling the room while his voice roared with violent force.

“No nothing will get in my way!
Now my strategy is in motion!
It’s time for the last scene of the play!
This is no time for regrets or emotion!”

Flanking him on all sides, Carmichael, Gemmel and Dragomir joined Elliot as the music swelled to a finale, their heads elevated with assurance towards a bright future. Their dance coming to an end as they raised their hands to the heavens.

“The finish is near,
The future looks certain.
And since our destiny is clear,
It’s time for the final curtain!
Yes it’s time for the final… curtain!”
_____________________________________________________________
* “The Final Curtain” – Written by me! Yes me! Mwahahaha!!

The Devil Went Down to L.A. (Postlude)

Submitted by MrDave on Mon, 02/07/2005 - 01:38.

***Monday July 16, 2007 9:00 pm ***
Melvin was very angry; fuck if he was going to end his musical like that. He started writing the third act as soon as he got home. By the time the sun had risen on Tuesday he had finished the third act with Julia falling for her leading man in Marvin’s musical and leaving him only to be ruined by the tabloid press. Marvin went on to fame and glory and the musical he had written about his life became the longest running play on Broadway.

Melvin, on the other hand was laughed off more than one stage after that until another little known hack bought his musical score and the 1932 record at a garage sale for $500. He turned around and sold the recording to a collector for several hundred thousand dollars. He used the money to produce the play in a small local theatre where a big producer happened to see it and moved it to Broadway. Lost Angeles is expected to win a Tony award for Kevin Jörgenson.

Retribution?

Submitted by Parasol on Tue, 02/08/2005 - 01:32.

Retribution?

*** Tuesday, June 17, 2007, 1:12 a.m. ***
When LA air is clear, on the 3 days of the year that it actually is, the view is astonishing. Who knew that a majestic set of mountains ring the LA basin; that the ocean can be seen from the Hollywood sign; and that all of LA proper, from Santa Clarita to Long Beach, can be sited from the Getty Museum.

And on a clear day, it's not the just view. The fragrance of the ocean reaches east to Los Feliz. All of West Los Angeles can smell the eucalyptus growing throughout UCLA. LA can breathe in the sweet exotic flowers forced by will and water from the desert LA is built upon.

This clear LA evening was clear, bright, and fragrant.

Drew was oblivious, occupied instead with feeding his cuckolded ire. Sharp as tonight's LA air. Bitter and salty as the tangy ocean breeze. Drew's fury sent his car careening toward lamp posts, sure that they should get out of his way if they wanted to live. Creepy crawlies hid in the shadows, ducking low hoping Drew's insanely zagging car headlights would turn away before splashing their demon guts against every all over.

After barely sparing his third lamp post, Drew pulled over and turned off the engine. He was still livid, but not quite lost in stupid. If he kept driving in this state, he would be dead within the hour. Not that he cared about that at this moment. The being dead part, that is. Drew cared about not giving Amanda an easy greasy path to the mercenary oil slick she fucked the night before Drew married her. He hated thinking such vitriol.

It was not his nature to know it, but in the sparkling LA night, vitriol was keeping Drew safe. Keeping him dangerous and safe.

Drew grit his teeth, got out of the car and looked around at unfamiliar territory. He leaned against the fender of his car, reaching for his bearings. He was not too far from somewhere, but he couldn't quite get his mind around where.

Then, like a mallet, the image of Amanda, her body entwined with Dalton's slammed him in the temple. She'd betrayed him. Again. No mind control this time. No magical illness. She chose to. With a man so vile that he had to be paid to assist in saving her life. Did she know that? Did Dalton whisper that admission in her ear? Did they have a laugh about it?

Ahhh – did she think she was the only one with temptation? The only one with fires other than home burning. She and Dalton underestimated him. They obviously found him wanting. He’d prove them wrong. Vows meant nothing to her. She had taken their wedding vows still sticky with Dalton. Why should they mean anything to him?

Something chaotic crossed over in Drew. He curled his lips in disgust, pushed his hips off the fender and started walking west, to the only balm he possessed.

*****

Chinaka twisted for the thousandth time in her sheets. Sleep just wasn't within reach. Remembering the sight of Drew walking down the aisle with Red just sent her stomach in flips. Chinaka hadn't shown herself at their wedding. She wasn't even going to go. Why watch disaster? And Chinaka knew it was all disaster; knew it in her bones. It made her nauseous.

Red just looked at Drew. Only at Drew. For most weddings this is wholly acceptable. But this was different. Chinaka could tell Red was looking at Drew solely to not look at someone else. Chinaka recognized the emotional parry -- had done it herself on an occasion or two.

Chinaka also caught a glimpse of who she could only deduce was this Marcus. Okay. Attractive. His charisma glinted like the edge of a knife. Chinaka much preferred the sexy professor look of Drew.

She wished she’d had an opportunity to talk to Drew before he walked down the aisle. She wished she’d had the courage to tell him, yell at him if necessary – “Get out…NOW!” Even if she lost a friend, it’d have been worth it.

Chinaka twisted for the thousand and first time in her sheets, frustrated at her cowardice.

***

Drew’s shoes clipped up the brick walkway to the front door of Chinaka’s house. He didn’t have to look at his watch to know it was late. How long had he been driving? Walking? Hours it was. Didn’t matter how long or how late. The doorbell ahead led to this day’s salvation and his heart’s retribution.

***

Chinaka was roused from her feather-light sleep by the doorbell. *Ack – what the f…* No one she knew, save for one soul, would ring the doorbell so late. *Drew!* She threw her covers off, pulled on her robe and tore out of her room, down the stairs.

Not bothering to look out of the front window, she threw open the door as she said his name. “Drew!”

Drew was standing there, his face ravaged, eyes red and puffy. His mouth was twisted into a cruel frown. He shoved his hands through the door finding purchase on each sleeve of Chinaka’s bathrobe and pulled her to him, desperate for the connection, the soothing release that being with his friend Chinaka wrought in his soul. He held her tight, resting his chin on the top of her head, and panting ragged breaths from the bottom of his lungs.

Chinaka knew it. She knew it. Something happened. Something changed. Chinaka wrapped her forearms around Drew’s waist and hissed into his chest, “What’d that redheaded bitch do to you, Drew?”

***

Drew leaned back into the corner of Chinaka’s couch, his long legs splayed akimbo ahead of him. He looked plainly at Chinaka curled up into the far corner, bathrobe wrapped carelessly around her folded legs. Her skin was so black, so unlike Amanda’s of fair milk. Yin to Amanda’s Yang.

He supposed Chinaka’s skin felt like rich dark satin. Chinaka’s face, looking back into his with its dark almond eyes, contained no guile yet her eyes flashed with fury. This face cared about him; cared about what he thought and felt. Was obviously livid that he was hurting. Chinaka’s protective attitude filled him.

He was tired of being Amanda’s punching bag, tired of her excuses and reasons to hurt him. The hurt and anger boiled inside of him. He looked again at deep, dark Chinaka and thought *Why not? She did it. Why can’t I?* He’d bathe in Chinaka’s honey salve and if it hurt Amanda, more’s the better.

***

Chinaka watched Drew from her territory of the couch. Drew hadn’t said a word. He didn’t need to. The look on his face at her doorway told her everything she already knew. His silence sitting across from her confirmed it. *Toxic Red,* she spit out the words in her mind. Amanda took it. Took another little piece of his heart.

***

Drew decided. He sat up and caterpillared slowly toward Chinaka, taking position facing her, with his calf lying across her red toenails peaking out from her bathrobe. Here was comfort. Here was a way to forget, a way to lose himself. Looking down into her lap, he delicately reached out his fingertips and traced her collarbone. It was warm and smooth.

Drew was shocked when Chinaka slapped his hand away, but caught his fingertips. His start snapped his eyes to hers as she leaned in, her lips inches away from his ear.

***

Chinaka spoke to Drew very softly, surely and intimately. He could feel her breath on his cheeks as she spoke.

“You know what you’re doing, Drew?” Chinaka leaned back so they were looking into each other’s eyes. She continued.

“You’re a good man, Drew. I know it. See, you think you love her – so you let her hurt you like this. But people who love you don’t do the things she does to you. I wouldn’t do those things to you. If I were lucky enough to have you, Drew, I’d drink muddy water before I’d risk losing you. She doesn’t want you Drew.”

Chinaka put his hand flat on her chest where her robe opened. Her skin was so hot, he nearly drew his hand back – but so astonishingly soft and welcoming that he couldn’t bear to do so.

“But I want you.” She pulled his hand to the top of her breast where he could feel her heart beat. It was racing.

“I know what you’re doing. You’re thinking to get back at her. And that’s okay. And it’s okay that you’ll want to leave me to go back to her, because that’s where you think you belong. I know it’s not, but you don’t.”

Drew started to bow his head, but she put her other hand to his cheek and lifted his eyes back to hers.

“With me may not be where you belong either. But know this, Drew. I love you. I love you very much. You can’t use me. You can’t play with me. You know why? It’s not in your nature. That’s why I love you.”

As usual, she was right. No matter how angry he was, how much he hurt, she just confessed her love for him and unlike Amanda, he couldn't use her heart to wipe his feet on -- not to such a loyal friend. Drew pulled his hand away from her breast, let his head drop away from her hand and whispered, “Jesus, what am I doing? You’re right. I can’t use you.”

Drew watched Chinaka as she stood up from the couch. Her robe fell further open revealing more of her full round body to him. She reached over and took his hand pulling him to his feet in front of her.

“No, you can’t. But sweetheart…” Chinaka’s voice got husky. “I’m going to use you.”

***

Daybreak was about an hour away. Were there eyes in the walls of Chinaka's bedroom, they would have seen Chinaka and Drew’s bodies twisted in each other resembling a checkerboard of skin. Dark foot around pale calf, dark knee bent under pale arm, dark lips on pale shoulder, dark hips to pale hips. King me.

Moments later, were someone listening outside of Chinaka’s bedroom window, they would have heard two people laughing to beat the band. And then silence.

***

Drew and Chinaka stood face to face at her front doorway, holding hands.

Chinaka spoke first.

“You’re going to feel guilty, aren’t you?”

“I’m married.”

“Oh, right. To a faithless, redheaded demon lover.”

“I like that you hate her.”

“I don’t hate her.”

“No?”

“Well. A little.”

“A little?”

“Okay, a lot.”

Drew smiled at his friend. “I love her. Still so much.”

“You think you do.”

“I do.”

“Whatever. You gonna tell her about…,” Chinaka nodded her head upstairs.

“About the amazing…,” Drew nodded his head upstairs. “Don’t know.”

“It’ll get you even.”

“Maybe. Hurting her won’t make me hurt less. Two wrongs.”

“Didn’t feel that wrong to me.”

Drew remembered and chuckled softly. “But still wrong.”

“I don’t wanna be right.”

“That’s a song. Did you sing yesterday?”

“Where I work, everybody sings.”

“Love that about your neighborhood.”

“Just remember, Drew – I used you.”

“Pretty darn well, too.”

“Darn well, hell. You know I rocked your world.”

Drew laughed sadly. They let go of their hands. Chinaka stood on her toes, kissed Drew on his mouth and opened the front door. Drew took a couple of hesitant steps, stood in the jamb and said into the day ahead of him, “I’m strong here.”

“Drew, you’re strong everywhere. You just…surrender too much.”

He stepped ahead onto her doorstep. The day before him loomed with no solution. Anger and pain seeped back into his pores. He turned back to his friend who last night had shown him how much she loved him, willing himself to not feel shame and guilt about what passed between them…without success.

He turned away from the woman who loved plainly and headed down the walkway to find his car, speaking only to himself.

“No, Chinaka. Only here. Just here."

Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007

Submitted by Heather on Fri, 02/11/2005 - 18:33.

Tuesday, 17th July 2007 – 4:35pm

Tash sat, dry-eyed, simply staring at the walls of her apartment. Since she had stormed out of Onyx’s presence the night before she’d not slept, eaten or done anything but sit on the floor. More than the hurt of losing a lover was the bitterness of betrayal, of having been used so callously. In a way it was poetic justice, finding herself being treated as she’d treated everyone else while she’d had Hyde. But that thought did nothing to console her.

As they always did in times of turmoil, her thoughts turned to Victor. She longed to feel his strong arms about her, longed to share that unspoken rapport that she’d only ever really felt with him. All the closeness, the comfort, the warmth, the intimacy she thought she’d discovered with Onyx was nothing but lies. Smoke and mirrors.

Nobody yet knew of her situation, and she was just fine with that. The idea of Kate and Daye and Alessa clucking over her made her nauseous. Dealing with all the raw emotion lately had become too hard. Ever since G’rnatha she’d had trouble being the warm, compassionate Tash that everyone had come to expect, but that person had only been born with Victor’s love. Her time with Onyx had bolstered that alien Tash a little, kept her on an even keel for a while, but now…

Now it was time to go back to the old ways, perhaps. The days when the only person in her life was Matthias, and the only emotion she had to deal with was the fear of defeat. Adrenaline was her lover then, and she’d have to learn all over again to be content with that.

The rancour slowly subsided again, and once more Tash’s mind became blank. Her eyes unfocused and she returned to that strange, semi-trance state she’d been in most of the day.

Drew stood in front of Tash’s door. His face was unshaven and his clothes were rumpled. He knew he must look like hell, ’cause that was about how he felt. He’d hardly slept since walking out of his house and leaving his wife standing there alone. *The wife who betrayed you, you mean?* his snide inner voice said. *The wife who’s in love with that worthless bastard? The wife who’s been lying to you for God knows how long?*

Drew thrust a hand into his hair and closed his eyes briefly against the flare of bitter pain inside. He had to talk to someone. He couldn’t keep all this inside anymore. He wanted to go to Chinaka, but he’d burned that bridge good. *What the hell was I thinking?* he wondered, not for the first time. When he remembered kissing Chinaka, the brutality of his enraged passion, the way he’d been willing to use her, Drew felt sick. He’d messed things up so badly.

So, here he was. Standing outside Tash’s door, he wondered again if this might be a mistake. After all, Tash was more Daye’s friend than his own. But, where else could he go? None of his old friends would ever be able to understand what was happening, what had happened. He needed to talk to someone who knew Amanda’s world. He needed the advice and support of someone who would understand all the pain they’d been through over the years. Kate was out of the question. She was Amanda’s closest friend. Drew wouldn’t come between them now that they were finally back on steady ground. Tash was his only choice.

Steeling himself, Drew lifted his hand and knocked loudly on the door. He stepped back and waited, hoping on some level that no one would be home.

Turning her head slowly towards the door, Tash stared at it for a long moment, not moving. Her desolation was so all-consuming that she could barely register the presence on the other side. All she did know was that it was someone she was friendly with – and it wasn’t Onyx. It idly crossed her mind that it might be Marcus, but then again why would he bother to come see her over what had happened? It wasn’t like him to apologise for his own actions, let alone those of his demonic companion. Besides, the presence didn’t have the feel of magic about it. It was more like Galen, or Drew, or even Oz – someone relatively normal.

The knock came a second time, more tentatively, and Tash considered just pretending she wasn’t home. But despite her resolve to rekindle the old, aloof Tash, she nevertheless found herself rising to her feet on muscles that protested at their long hours of inactivity.

“Who is it?” she called in a flat tone, speaking her customary query on autopilot.

“Uh, it’s Drew… Look, if it’s a bad time I can come back later…” Drew was starting to back away even as he spoke. *What was I thinking? How can I face Tash with this? She’s Daye’s friend…*

But it was too late. The door opened and Tash stared out at him with a strange, blank expression on her face. It was as though all life had been sucked out of her. She turned and gestured limply inside, and when she spoke her voice was as colourless as the rest of her.

“Hi Drew, come on in.”

Drew shrugged, but it was too late to run off now. “Uhm... all right,” he said, following Tash into the apartment and shutting the door behind him. Drew followed Tash into the living room and stopped just inside. Tash seemed out of sorts. With an inward sigh, Drew asked, “Tash, are you all right? If this is a bad time, like I said...”

“Mmmwhat? No, no, it’s okay. I just… Oh damn it, I had a bad night last night. Someone used some weird mojo or something. There was singing, and there was no way to stop the words from coming out. Onyx told me… well, we…”

Tash paused, her own nightmare forgotten for a moment as she finally noticed Drew’s face. “Oh, you too?” A very clear image of Daye singing popped into Tash’s mind, and she nodded, realisation dawning on her. If there was anything preying on Daye’s mind that she might happen to sing about, Tash knew what it had to be.

“Drew… Uh…” Lost for words, Tash mumbled into silence.

“It was... it was crazy, Tash,” Drew said, looking bewildered. “We went to this charity thing... on Friday night. Mom’s idea, you know? And well, Dalton was there,” Drew’s voice was full of hate when he spoke the other man’s name. “He was with some girl and apparently he’s ingratiated himself with my mother, because she pulls us, me and Amanda, over there to introduce us to him. Isn’t that rich?”

Drew laughed mirthlessly. “He was so – I don’t know – arrogant. He’s always arrogant. I will never understand what Amanda sees in him, but she... No, let me finish this.”

Drew started to pace the room slowly. “Before we left, he made this strange comment. He asked Amanda if she’d ever talked to me about something that had happened the night before the wedding. She blew him off, but the next day – the next couple of days – she was distracted again, and kind of jumpy. Finally, last night, I just couldn’t do it any more. I’ve known since before the wedding that there was something bothering her. Things have been getting better, but still sometimes it seems like there’s a secret or something between us. And last night, I just decided it was time to deal with it... to deal with all of it. So, I pushed her. And something weird happened. Like you said, she started singing and dancing... and there was music. But it’s not that... It’s what she said while she was singing. I didn’t realize how hard I made it for her before the wedding. I was so scared to talk to her… to let her talk to me, but that doesn’t make it all right. She... I think she slept with him that night, and I know she’s in love with him... at least partially. She said that. That she loved him. Damn it, Tash, how am I supposed to deal with that? Amanda - she loves that arrogant, snide bastard. I wanna... I wanna go pound him into the ground. I want her to feel how I feel. I...”

Drew stopped, looked stricken and guilty. He shook his head as if he’d already said too much.

It was like watching a train wreck. As Tash listened to Drew’s story tumble out of his mouth, she knew what he was going to say. And yet she couldn’t interrupt him, stop the flow of words. And she hardly had the heart to tell him she already knew. She knew all of it. How they’d had trouble talking, how Daye harboured feelings for Marcus, and how she had acted on those feelings the very night before she married Drew.

Tash looked up at this broken man, and the pain in her own heart echoed what she saw on his face. “Drew,” she began, and stopped. Swallowed.

“Drew, I know. I hoped that Daye could get past it all, that eventually she’d take my advice and talk to you, but…” Tash sighed heavily and looked away. “I’m sorry.”

Drew stared incredulously at Tash as the meaning of her words sank in. “You... you knew?” His voice was barely above a whisper. “You knew what exactly? You knew how she felt? You knew about her sleeping with him the night before we got married? What, Tash, just what did you know?” As he spoke his voice became harder and colder, his anger emanating from him in waves.

“I’m a telepath, dammit! There are some things it’s impossible for me not to know, especially when someone’s so cut up with guilt about it as Daye was.”

Putting her head in her hands, Tash continued in a much softer tone. “What was I meant to do, run out on your wedding day and tell you your soon-to-be wife had just slept with another man? Really, Drew? Would that have been what you wanted?” She lifted her head an appraised him steadily, the pain of the last few hours having etched her down to the bare essentials. She had nothing left to sugarcoat anything.

“We’re both in pain right now. I can’t just pat you on the back and say ‘there, there, it’ll all be better soon’. If that’s what you came for, you’ll be disappointed. All I know is that Daye went through with that wedding for you. She wanted to make you happy. She thought you deserved it. She was trying to make things better. But she was dumb, too. She did stupid things, and then she tried to keep them quiet from you. We’re all only human, you know.”

Tash looked away again, closing her eyes against the empty hollow inside. “And some of us fall for the tricks of the ones who aren’t…”

Drew felt all his anger deflate in the light of Tash’s own quiet desperation. “I’m sorry, Tash. You obviously don’t need this right now. I just... I didn’t know, I’m sorry.”

Tash gave a hollow laugh. “How could you? You’re no telepath. Hell, even I didn’t know.”

Drew looked down at the floor. “I guess... sometimes maybe I don’t think of all of you that way, as only human. Amanda, she’s so strong. She’s got power and she’s good... she’s a good person. She’s probably the best person I’ve ever known. Maybe… maybe I let myself believe she was more than she is. Maybe I needed to believe that. Maybe this is because I expected too much.”

Drew paused. He sighed and moved over towards where Tash was. “I... tell me what happened to you now. It’s your turn. I can’t come here and dump all over you and then not let you do the same. You tell me, and I’ll tell you. And maybe together we could begin to make some sense of what’s happened to us. Okay? So, tell me what happened.”

Looking up at Drew, Tash felt her eyes suddenly fill with the tears she’d not shed all day. Blinking them away, she dropped her head, embarrassed. She started to protest, to insist that her problems didn’t matter. But Drew was right. They both shared the pain of loss today. So she’d been taken for a gullible fool – wasn’t Drew in exactly the same position?

“Well, let me know if you want to burn down Marcus’ hotel, ’cause I might just join you. See, my problem is Onyx. Ironic, isn’t it? We’d have both been better off if the name Dalton had never been heard in LA. You know that torrid love affair we had? It was all fake. All of it. She used magic on me, to gain my trust. She wanted what was in my head, nothing more.”

Tash’s despondent tone barely varied during her exposure of her own folly. She thought she should be mad, upset – something. But all she felt was this aching hollowness. “It’s as though none of it mattered – nothing that’s happened since G’rnatha. I feel like I’ve just lost Victor all over again.” She glanced up at Drew, at his dishevelled appearance and dark-ringed eyes. “Gods, we’re a pair, aren’t we?”

Drew nodded. “Apparently,” he responded. “Fools for love, that’s what we are. Aren’t there songs written about us somewhere? Ah... hell, Tash. I’m sorry. That... well, it sucks. She sucks. Not that I’m all that surprised. I mean, let’s be honest here. Maybe I did things to make Daye turn away from me. I’m not going to act totally innocent. But Dalton, he sure was willing to take advantage of that fact. And Onyx... well she’s with him, right. Sounds like they’re a pair.”

Tash’s eyes narrowed. “You know, I’m not entirely sure Marcus may not have been in on it. I mean, it was necromancy she stole… but no, she sang to me that she’d been breeding the Daltons for generations, trying to get the level of ability she needed… Hell, I don’t know. I don’t really care, right now.”

Curling her legs up under her, Tash hugged herself where she sat on the couch. And thought of Onyx. The way her hair had whispered like the softest silk across her skin as they made love, the way she’d made Tash feel so at ease… *No, it’s a fucking spell. Snap out of it!*

Shaking herself, Tash looked around at the room, noticing how the late afternoon light made everything look golden. Now that she had something to occupy her other than her own morbid thoughts, her stomach took the opportunity to rumble at her.

“Well, from one lovelorn soul to another, what do you say we do what everyone does in these situations?”

At Drew’s interrogative and slightly suspicious look, Tash mustered the energy to give a half-hearted chuckle. “Order in Chinese and watch old movies, of course. … Or just talk.”

Drew laughed softly. “Yeah, that sounds good,” he said. “Let’s do that.”

A Meeting In Virginia

Submitted by Meredith Bell on Fri, 02/11/2005 - 19:23.

The Alliance Headquarters, Virginia
Wednesday, 18th July 2007
11:45am

“What do you mean they’re missing?”

Lothar frowned, “what part of the word ‘missing’ don’t you understand Jack? They’ve gone, vanished – not there.”

“But…” Jack sighed frustratedly, running a hand through his greying hair with unease. He slumped back into his chair, observing the other two men who sat opposite him. Lothar and Samir had recalled him to Virginia several days ago to monitor the successful negotiation of a secondary treaty with a group of New York Mohra demons. He’d been doing just that when this current ’situation’ had erupted.

“This is impossible, isn’t it? How can two people just vanish off the face of the earth?”

“What more can we tell you?” said Samir, removing his glasses and polishing them with meticulous precision. “We don’t understand it ourselves except that two of our most powerful mages have gone missing without a trace. They were supposed to arrive in Miami seven days ago, they never showed. We’ve checked everything, their hotel, the airline, the contacts they were supposed to meet with – nothing.”

Jack pressed his fingers together thoughtfully. The two witches in question, Miss Norah Atwell and Mrs Lara Willis were both his ‘case subjects’ as it were. Travelling across the country from Chicago, he was supposed to be providing them with a new life in Miami until things were safe again.

“Is there a possibility that their coven realised they were going to testify against them? They might have sent someone to eliminate them before they had the chance to expose them…”

“It’s a possibility of course,” said Lothar carefully, “but we’ve had agents watching the coven for months now, if they’d put a foot out of place we’d have known. We can only assume that it’s an outside job, but still, we haven’t found any bodies – not even a trace that they may have come to any harm.”

Jack rose from his chair, walking over to the window - a wall made entirely of glass, and looked out at the city below. “Maybe it’s something else,” he mumbled quietly, his dark eyes narrowing slightly in scrutiny. “Have there been any other mysterious disappearances within the Wiccan community? Any reported abductions, kidnappings? Has anyone contacted the local covens?”

“We’ve been doing just that, but it isn’t easy. You know what the covens are like, it’s difficult getting them to open up and admit anything, let alone something like this.”

Samir replaced his glasses back on his thin nose, pressing them firmly in place. “You think there may be more to it than a simple ploy to stop the trial against Diana’s Circle going to court?”

Jack turned back to face the other men, “they’re powerful witches, there are any number of organisations that would like to get their hands on them.”

“Any one in particular?”

“Maybe…”

“Goddamn it Jack, this is serious!” snapped Lothar impatiently, slamming his fist on the table with anger. “You know the position Security Section is in at the moment, especially after Belzar went on that bloody killing spree last year! We’re losing the confidence of our allies, it is your job to ensure the safety of our confederates! If you’re not up to that job, Jack…”

Jack forced his temper to quell despite Lothar’s provocation. He had his own suspicions but there was little point in voicing them until he’d had a chance to investigate further.

“I need to return to LA,” he said finally. "At once."

Intolerable Cruelty

Submitted by Meredith Bell on Fri, 02/11/2005 - 19:26.

The Residence of The Ministry, Beverly Hills
Wednesday, 18th July 2007
7:13pm

“Oh! …Mr Carmichael!”

Jennifer Lawson giggled as the English gentleman did very un-gentlemanly things to her beneath the bedsheets. She had long surrendered to her feelings for the Ministry operative despite her reservations as to the ethical implications of such an affair. It had been over a year since her first meeting with the enigmatic Aimes Carmichael. Back then she’d only ever fantasised about the sorts of things she would do with a man like him, now she was doing them for real – and she had to admit, reality was far better than any fantasy.

A low growl issued from under the blankets and Jennifer moaned deeply, biting her lower lip and screwing up her eyes tightly. Aimes Carmichael was an incredibly skilled lover, more than any man she’d ever known. He seemed to have an almost limitless stamina and a generosity that left her equally enthralled and exhausted. It made her wonder if the rumours about him being a demon were in fact true.

Either way she didn’t care. She was having the time of her life, her boss Farefax had not long since announced his desire to assume a less prominent role within the organisation, meaning that she had the responsibility for undertaking his position overseeing the Los Angeles department – at least temporarily anyway. It meant that she had a free rein without anyone checking up on her, which was just the way she liked it. Any worries or doubts about whether she was being used or manipulated by the gentlemen of the Ministry seemed equally insignificant – it felt like everything she’d ever wanted was finally falling into place.

“Hmmm, Ms. Lawson…” growled Aimes as he poked his head out from under the sheets, trailing hungry kisses up her naked stomach towards her waiting mouth. Taking a detour he swept back her hair and let his tongue and teeth lavish attention across the deformed flesh of her right ear.

Jennifer moaned hotly, the months of reconstructive surgery might have been able to repair some of the superficial damage to her ear but she had little sensation remaining. Still, it was a great turn on to think that Mr Carmichael was so desperate for her he would pay such great attention to something that was actually quite grotesque to look at. Just the thought of it made her groan lewdly before redirecting his mouth to her own.

A light knock sounded at the door.

Jennifer moaned and groaned her eager appreciation into Aimes’ mouth, squeezing her legs around his hard, muscular torso as he ground himself into her. Their bodies moved together, the sensation of flesh rubbing against flesh causing Jennifer to moan longer and louder as she neared another delightful climax.

The door opened slightly and a young woman poked her head through the gap, nervously clearing her throat before speaking. “Ah, umm, …excuse me for interrupting but…”

Jennifer screamed in anger, grabbing the nearest pillow and throwing it towards the door at the young woman. “Get the fuck out of here!” she yelled fiercely at the girl, launching another pillow at her, this time aimed at her head.

Jillian pulled the door close to avoid being hit by the projectile, her heart pounding furiously in her chest as she kept the door ajar, the handle tightly grasped in her hand. She hated the American woman; she was always so angry and full of spiteful venom. The only person she ever showed any respect towards was Mr Carmichael… and the Professor of course, everyone else she treated as though they were there purely for her own entertainment – to do with as she pleased.

“Mr Carmichael!” Jillian shouted warily from behind the door, “I d-didn’t mean to interrupt but the Professor s-s-sent me-“

“It’s okay Dr Lennon,” yelled back Carmichael, grunting slightly as he continued to plough his way in and out of Lawson, his strong, muscular body moving with piston like thrusts. “Come in!”

Jillian hesitated before pushing the door open again. The room was filled with the woman’s agonising moans and screams and Carmichael’s fierce grunting. Jillian could feel her face turning red as the couple continued to have sex right in front of her and she kept her head bowed as she walked inside. The room was a complete mess, clothes were strewn about all over the furniture and the bed, despite its solid construct, creaked with protest at its occupant’s vigorous activities.

“I er…” Jillian began, trying to avert her eyes from their naked bodies writhing against each other like wild animals. “I h-have the w-w-weekly report y-you asked for?” she ventured nervously, holding out the file she held in her hand.

Carmichael slowed his movements, reaching out to take the file from Jillian but at the same time Lawson began screaming again, scratching her long nails down his back possessively, directing and encouraging her lover with various expletives.

“Fuck, you fucking bastard!” she groaned loudly, drawing her nails down the soft flesh of his back again.

“Just one moment Dr Lennon,” said Carmichael politely as he resumed his steady paced thrusting, riding the woman for all she was worth until her screams filled the room and she gasped breathlessly before sighing in fulfilment.

Jumping down from the bed with the same brisk athleticism as a rider dismounting a horse, Aimes grabbed his robe and pulled it over his broad, muscular shoulders, fastening it tightly around his waist. He’d barely broken out into a sweat, looking as fresh as a daisy while Ms. Lawson lay gasping on the bed, immodestly replete with her legs still wide open.

Smiling at the young girl’s embarrassment he took the papers from her hands, giving them a quick perusal. “Ah… I see subjects 1211 and 1418 have both been recruited to our cause…” he muttered, more to himself than the other two women in the room as his eyes continued to scan the rest of the report.

Jillian nodded responsively though she wasn’t really paying attention. Though she tried her best not to look, her eyes kept being repeatedly drawn back to the naked woman on the bed. She had such a nice shape and her skin looked so soft and flushed with heat. Her gaze lingered on her breasts, they sagged slightly yet her nipples stood erect, hard and pink, rising enticingly with each exhausted breath she took.

“And the Professor wanted to see me?”

Jillian looked up quickly, returning her focus to Mr Carmichael. “Y-yes, S-Sir,” she stammered uneasily, her gaze flickering over his shoulder again, returning to Ms Lawson as she continued to lay with her legs spread apart indecently, displaying herself for the world to see. Jillian felt herself growing strangely warm at the sight and she quickly averted her eyes again.

“It’s u-urgent.”

“Hmmm, urgent is it?” asked Jennifer as she sat up and climbed off the bed, still as naked as the day she was born and apparently without any urge to rectify the matter. She draped herself over Carmichael’s shoulder, reading the report with disinterest before wandering to a small table and pulling a few grapes free from a bunch.

“Don’t suppose you know what it’s about hmmm?” she asked Jillian directly, slumping down into a chair, crossing her bare legs as she popped the grapes one by one into her mouth.

“N-n-no,” stuttered Jillian, her cheeks turning an even deeper shade of red at the other woman’s brazen manner.

Jennifer wet her index finger in her mouth before trailing it down to one of her nipples, tweaking it gently with her thumb as the young girl continued to stare at her. “See something you like Hon?”

“Dr Lennon,” said Carmichael briskly, signing off on the report papers and thrusting the file back into her hand. “Please tell Professor Zimmerman that I’ll be with him shortly.”

Jillian nodded gratefully, grasping the file between both her hands as she fled out of the room.

Jennifer Lawson laughed cruelly, rising to her feet and wrapped her arms around Carmichael’s shoulders again as Jillian closed the behind her.

“Do you think she has any idea what a big fucking dyke she is? Maybe she could sing a song about it…”

Carmichael was silent for a moment before shrugging the woman off him, grabbing her blouse and skirt from the back of a chair and throwing them at her. “Get your clothes on, we’ve got work to do.”

Playing Catch Up

Submitted by Meredith Bell on Sat, 02/12/2005 - 09:11.

The Residence of The Ministry, Beverly Hills
Wednesday, 18th July 2007
7:34pm

Elliot Zimmerman waited patiently outside Carmichael’s quarters even as the young Dr Lennon slammed the door shut abruptly, pausing briefly to relay the demon’s message before hurrying on past him towards her makeshift lab in the manor’s basement. Elliot observed with interest the bright flush of embarrassment mingled with anger that tinged Jillian’s usually pale face and wondered… Such a strong, impassioned reaction – could it ever be exploited?

He glanced at his watch as the minutes passed, his dark eyes narrowing slightly as he pondered upon his impending engagement. His own musical declaration had unnerved him a little; he wasn’t used to being out of control and had inadvertently revealed his own eagerness for the work that lay ahead.

“But the end now is impending,
Getting closer every day,
And soon we will be ending,
This long macabre play.”

Elliot hummed the tune quietly in his head, his fingers tapping across the wrought iron railing that circled the courtyard of the manor. Suddenly a door opened and Carmichael emerged dressed impeccably in a crisp white shirt and pressed slacks.

“I apologise for keeping you waiting Sir,” he said upon seeing his master leaning against the rail outside his chambers.

“No need to apologise,” replied Elliot, turning to face the other man. He looked his usual cool and composed self, even in the stagnant evening air. He began a steady paced walk, gesturing for Aimes to join him. “I trust you are managing to keep Ms. Lawson suitably amused during her stay with us?”

The corner of Carmichael’s mouth curled upwards in a tight grin. He had sensed the Majestic 12 agent’s attraction towards himself from the start, in fact she had done little to disguise her interest. Aimes had found himself not opposed to the idea even though his demonic form and advancing years had long ago made sexual relations of any kind less of a necessity. He received little pleasure from the act, though it did help relax him and he appreciated the exercise. Jennifer Lawson on the other hand was like a woman possessed, he seemed to spend most of his nights servicing the vile woman, attending to her… needs. Still… he had few qualms about the morality of his actions, it was just another part of his work like anything else.

“She appears to be satisfied with the service I’m providing,” he said eventually. “I believe she will not give us cause for any more worry…”

“Good, good,” smiled Elliot. There had been a moment where it had seemed that the Majestic agent appeared to be distancing herself from their activities, such a change in his plans would have been disastrous. He needed the woman on side, if only for a little while longer. Then… well, accidents happened all the time…

“At this late stage we cannot afford for Ms. Lawson to be having an attack of conscience.”

“I don’t think that will be a problem,” Aimes grinned, “she seems as hell bent on revenge as ever before.”

“Good, lets keep it that way. I don’t want any unforeseen problems getting in our way. Not like with Ms. Lee and that damn vampire brood…”

“Don’t worry Professor,” said Carmichael, smiling at his master as they continued to walk, “nothing is going to go wrong this time.”

“Professor! Mr Carmichael!”

The female voice of Jennifer Lawson echoed around the courtyard as she stumbled out into the corridor looking suitably dishevelled and disorderly. She walked briskly to catch up to the two men, her heeled shoes clipping against the terracotta tiled floor.

“I… I…” she panted breathlessly, “didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”

Elliot smiled, placing an amiable hand on her shoulder. “Relax Ms. Lawson, Carmichael has just been updating me on your recent work together. But now that you are here I have a special request to ask of you. If you’re up to the challenge that is?”

Jennifer returned the man’s smile though she couldn’t help but feel like the two men had been discussing more than just the paperwork she’d been filling in for the Ministry during their stay in Los Angeles. “I… believe I am, Sir.”

“Good.” Elliot started walking again, leading the other two deeper into the manor where the hum of many voices buzzed quietly in the background. “Then lets find somewhere a little more comfortable to discuss the finer details. This could take some time…”

Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007

Submitted by Disposable_Hero on Thu, 02/17/2005 - 18:05.

Wedensday 18th July,
11:35pm
LA

"It's a warehouse." Kyle commented, looking at the building Zax was showing to him. "No, no. My mistake. It's an abandoned warehouse. I have seen abandoned warehouses before. Did you really drag me all the way out here just to see that?" He asked, turning to look at the demon.

They stood at the mouth of a small side-alley only just big enough to fit both Kyle and Zax in side-by-side, and from there, in between an old textiles factory and another warehouse, they peered at the building. Hayden sat idly on a trash can, his legs dangling just above the floor and swinging back and forth, thankfully keeping strangely quiet. In fact, he had said very little during the long walk over.

"Well, yes and no." Zax admitted. "Look closer. It ain't abandoned, buddy."

Kyle peered even closer, trying to spot signs of life, but he couldn't see anything through the boarded windows, and there was nothing on the outside to indicate it was anything but abandoned. "Are you sure?" He asked, sceptically.

The large demon nodded enthusiastically. "Trust me on this one. One of the boys managed to get a good look in early. The place is crawling with vampires. And I'm talking a lot of them. Like, the sort of numbers we haven't seen together since the Brotherhood was in town."

"Vampires?" Kyle asked, his interest piqued.

Grinning widely and with an evil light in his eye, Zax nodded again. "Lots of vampires. But guess what."

When it was clear Zax wasn't going to go on, Kyle sighed and rolled his eyes. Zax certainly does like to make things melodramatic He thought, pulling his cigarettes out of his pocket. Putting one in his mouth, the Kaoshian shielded the end of it with one hand, whilst quickly changed into his demon form and lit it with the end of a finger on his other hand, then shifted back. "What?" At last he asked.

Zax was clearly enjoying this. "Well, word has it, their leader happens to be a certain someone you've had little run-ins with in the past. Certain vampire called...Morris Giles."

Kyle took a long drag, blowing out the smoke into the demon's face and thinking over his words. "Morris?" Zax nodded. "With an army of vampries?" He nodded again. Kyle took another long drag. "That's good to know. Yeah, that information'll be a lotta use to some...friends of mine."

"Woah." Hayden suddenly interjected. "Lets back up a little here. You admit you have friends?"

After shooting him a nasty look, Kyle turned back to Zax. "Really, I know people who'll appreciate knowing this. Thanks, man."

The demon waved his thanks away. "No sweat. So, we not gonna take 'em ourselves?"

Kyle raised his eyebrows, not speaking until he had taken another drag. "You've gotta be kidding, right? Just the two of us? Against an army?"

"Yeah, and you two'd have trouble against just one." A new voice cut in, that caused all three heads to suddenly swivel round. Kyle thought the voice was familiar, but was prevented from thinking about it anymore by an extremely heavy object hitting the back of his head. He had just enough time to hear Zax cry out in pain, and Hayden let out a surprised curse, and then all he knew was darkness.

Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007

Submitted by Kent on Fri, 02/18/2005 - 12:57.

Wednesday, July 18th 2007 - 9:15 PM
Battambang Chinese Restaurant, Chinatown

Guest-starring Brenda Song as Joy Law

The far corner of the restaurant was tightly packed with people, all young and hopelessly wound up. It was birthday party, with all guests huddled around the satisfied guest of honor. As the kids stirred around her table, a few minor comments were murmured just under breath.

“I thought we were going to the Laughing Dog,” one party guest mentioned to her girlfriend, “…but this place is kinda neat, too.”

“Shh!” her friend said in a hushed giggle. “Cake time!”

Indeed, it was cake time, and a fine cake it was--two tall layers, coated in brilliant red-orange frosting. Striking yellow letters spelled out the most pleasant, if typical, birthday wish. “Happy 18th Birthday Joy!” the cake-letters read.

As her mother brought the cake before her, Joy Law leaned her chin on her hand. The two bracelets on her wrist clicked together rhythmically, and Joy took a brief moment to examine them. The one was shiny and brand-new, gold with red gemstones. Her father slipped it slyly onto her wrist before she woke that morning; it was the first gift she had received that day. The second, less sparkling bracelet was black and dark purple, a shadow in contrast to her new trinket. The design was of a serpent—her birth sign. No matter how odd it looked in comparison to her other accessories, she always wore the dark one. It was the last gift given to her by her brother before he left the family.

“Shall we sing to her now?” Mrs. Law asked the other guests cheerily.

Joy’s face turned up to address the gathering. “I’ve already heard enough singing for one week!” Joy joked, causing the rest of the guests to burst into laughter. “I thought we got all of that out of our system the on Monday…”

As the laughter died down, a sudden shiver came down Joy’s spine. “Here it comes,” she thought. Mr. Law led the guests in the familiar tune:

*“Zhu ni sheng ri kuai le
Zhu ni sheng ri kuai le
Zhu ni sheng ri sheng ri kuai le
Zhu ni sheng ri kuai le!”

And here it was…the moment that induced the chill. Eighteen candles, each melting away. Her chances were fading, Joy knew, and as she reflected on this the candlelight glowed in her eyes.

“A wish,” her mother urged lovingly.

With a silent prayer and a puff of air, Joy extinguished all eighteen candles. “This is the year,” she repeated to herself. “This is the year I am going to find my brother.”

Mr. and Mrs. Law watched their daughter gaze thoughtfully at the candles. They didn’t have to hear her say anything—they knew what she wished for. It was the same thing that they had been wishing for some time now.

“You’re out there somewhere, Benji,” Joy thought assuredly. “And when I find you I’m bringing you home.”

* The familiar Happy Birthday tune, but with the Chinese lyrics.

Anniversary Evaluations

Submitted by Meredith Bell on Fri, 02/18/2005 - 16:55.

The Home of Kate and Galen Eldridge
Tuesday, 17th July 2007
10:45pm

Galen yawned tiredly, opening his eyes with a sense of weary reluctance. The darkened room came slowly into focus, the shaded contours of the wardrobe and Kate’s dressing table gradually separating themselves from the surrounding darkness. It felt like he’d been asleep forever.

He yawned again, raising a hand to cover his mouth as he stretched out his limbs until several of his joints cracked gratifyingly in response. He felt so relaxed he didn’t ever want to move from the comfort of his warm bed. Galen smiled as he remembered the wonderful evening he and Kate had just shared, a nice intimate dinner at a little Italian restaurant downtown followed by dancing and then… well.

He smiled again. Yesterday had been incredibly strange; yet somehow all the singing and pouring out of hearts seemed to have made them closer – he wondered if any of their friends would have faired as well from telling the truth as he and Kate had. Rolling over towards his wife, Galen suddenly realised that the bed was empty, the sheets ruffled and drawn back on her side. Frowning in confusion he sat up and looked around before trailing his hand across the mattress. It was still warm.

Dragging himself up to his feet, he pulled on a crumpled white t-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts before wandering downstairs, faint sounds from the kitchen leading him in that direction.

Galen smiled seeing Kate stood in front of the stove, humming quietly as she stirred the contents of a small saucepan. A picture of peaceful domesticity. It wasn’t a place he was used to seeing her, unless she was cooking up some spell or potion, but actual food? That still remained to be seen. Galen leaned against the doorframe admiring the sight of her – barefoot, the fluid fabric of her dressing gown emphasising her diminutive curves while her hair hung loosely down her back in a river of tousled red waves.

Kate’s back straightened as she sensed her husband’s familiar presence and she turned, pouting sullenly as he joined her by the stove. “Oh, you’re awake! I wanted it to be a surprise,” she complained, turning back to the saucepan and resuming her stirring.

“Hmm, and what surprise would that be…?” asked Galen as he slid his arms around Kate’s waist and leaned over her shoulder, peering into the contents of the pan. “Chocolate?”

Kate smiled; she had left her husband exhausted and quietly sleeping in their bed not very long since but his strong arms about her waist and his heated breath against her bare neck were testament to his renewed vigour.

“I thought I’d make something special for our special day,” she explained. “Something to help keep your… strength up,” she added with another bright smile. “Aunt Mariah’s simply divine hot chocolate, she used to make it for us whenever we had a broken heart or a bad grade…”

Galen grinned as he leaned in closer, one of his hands coming free from Kate’s waist as he reached out towards the pan and dipped his fingers inside, scooping up some of the warm runny mixture.

“Hey, don’t do that,” laughed Kate suddenly, tapping the back of his hand like a naughty child. “It’s hot, you’ll burn yourself.”

Galen chuckled, sucking the chocolate from his fingers. “Well what’s life without a few risks hmmm?”

Turning her head to look over her shoulder, Kate fixed her husband with a firm yet playful gaze. “Oh my philosopher speaks such wise words.”

Dipping his fingers into the pan again, Galen grinned. “You want some?” he asked quietly, slowly bringing a finger up to Kate’s waiting lips. “Here…” he said softly as she opened her mouth and he fit the end of his chocolate covered finger inside.

He watched with adoration the changing expressions on her face as that first taste of rich sweetness met her warm tongue, her lips closing around his finger and sucking as he slowly retracted it from her mouth. Opening her eyes, Kate met Galen’s unwavering gaze, returning the intimacy of his stare before a slight smile curled the corners of her lips again and she shook her head whimsically, turning back to the stove.

“And you call me a tease…”

Galen chuckled, wrapping his arms around her waist once more as she resumed stirring the contents of the pan. He watched her actions with interest. Her hands… he had long ago become fascinated with their delicate, pale structure, with their sensuous softness. More than anything he loved seeing his wedding ring on her finger, a constant reminder of the day he had slid it into place. A band of simple white gold which enshrouded their indelible vow of commitment, the same as that which he wore himself.

Gently he nudged the edge of Kate’s robe back from her shoulder with his chin, laying a soft kiss against the newly exposed skin.

“I want to take you back to bed,” he complained quietly, frustrated by how long it was taking for the chocolate to melt. “The night’s not over and I’ve got a whole… catalogue of indecent things I plan on doing with you…”

Kate laughed, picking up the nutmeg and grating a little into the chocolate mixture along with some vanilla. “It’s nearly done,” she reassured him, taking the pan off the heat and pouring the contents into two cups. “You’re going to love it… I promise.”

Galen groaned, drawing his hands back to rest on Kate’s hips. He began to leisurely finger the silky material of her dressing gown, running his thumb into the thin folds so that he could feel the curve of her thigh beneath the fluid material. His impatience was palpable.

“It does smell delicious,” he admitted with a reluctant sigh. “Better at body temperature though…”

Kate added a little hot water to the two cups before turning around to face her husband. She couldn’t help but smile, recently she found herself smiling more than she would ever have thought possible since Emma’s death. And it was all down to the man she stood opposite. Wrapping her arms around his middle, she pulled him close against herself, his solid, masculine body feeling wonderfully strong against her own.

“Do you think of anything other than sex?” she asked with a wry smile.

Galen grinned again, his own arms snaking their way around Kate, resting low down her back. “You’re the one who wore the incredibly sexy dress to dinner this evening, I am but a mere man Kate,” he added with mock indignation. “I’m powerless to resist the primal urges of mans basic nature that state, if your wife wears figure hugging black chiffon you’re duty bound to take her home and give her a damn good seeing to.”

“OH!” cried Kate in retaliation, prodding Galen playfully in the chest. “You bought me that dress in Catalina, I only wore it because you liked it so much!”

"Yes I liked it, here behind closed doors,” Galen slid his hands to either side of Kate’s hips, stroking firmly. “Where I get to appreciate its charms fully.”

Kate leaned forward, scrunching up her nose with ridicule. “You’re crazy, you do realise that?”

“Oh really? That waiter nearly spilt my soup he was staring at you so much!” Galen declared defensively. “In fact the whole restaurant was staring at you!”

“I think that had more to do with you and your Die Hard impersonations. Really, just once I’d like to go somewhere without you re-enacting the scene where Gruber and John McClane meet for the first time. It’s really not as funny as you think it is.”

“Hey you liked that,” Galen objected, “you laughed!”

Kate smiled coyly, sliding a hand up Galen’s arm, stroking the slight bulge of his bicep. “I liked it…” she conceded, looking up at her husband with a sly grin, “behind closed doors, where I get to appreciate its charms fully.”

Before Galen could reply, Kate turned and picked up one of the steaming cups of hot chocolate. “Here. Drink,” she instructed with a slight smile, placing the cup in her husband’s hand. “Tell me you love it.”

Leaning back against the edge of the kitchen table, Galen dutifully sipped at the dark liquid. Part of him was apprehensive, he loved his wife but she wasn’t be best cook in the world by anyone’s measure, but as he swallowed that first mouthful he was pleasantly surprised. The chocolate drink tasted wonderfully rich and satisfying, filling him with warmth and contentment.

“Hmmm, this is good stuff,” he grinned, licking the chocolate residue from his top lip. “Worth the wait.”

Kate smiled, picking up her own cup as she pulled out one of the chairs at the table and sat down. “I’m glad you think so.”

“Didn’t you say that anything worth having is worth waiting for?”

“Hmm, I think what I said was anything worth having is worth fighting for.”

Galen’s smile widened and he slid his hand across the table, resting it atop of Kate’s, lacing his fingers together with hers. “Sounds… disturbingly appropriate.”

Kate nodded, her eyes focusing on their hands joined together upon the table. “It hasn’t been the easiest of years,” she admitted, a note of sadness in her voice. Squeezing Galen’s hand securely she looked up at him, smiling warmly. “I don’t think I would have been able to get through any of it without you.”

Kate reached upwards with her free hand and stroked her fingers across Galen’s cheek lovingly. “Sometimes I wonder how I ever managed without you in my life.” Her steady gaze flickered slightly before returning her eyes to her husband. “I do love you,” she confessed tenderly, “so very much. I… I’m not just saying this because of what today is, or what it means… I’ve loved you every single day I’ve known you. I… I think I always will,” she admitted, her voice little more than a whisper.

Galen returned Kate’s intent gaze, his hold on her hand tightening. Her words filled him with such pride and happiness, to think… just one year ago today he and Kate had stood together in a small temple in Las Vegas and made their vows of marriage. So much had happened since that day, loosing Emma… he’d never expected to feel happiness again after that, he’d never expected to be able to be with Kate and not feel guilty. But the truth was he loved her more than ever.

Leaning down towards his wife, Galen cupped her cheek in his free hand, his other – the one still holding securely onto Kate’s fingers tightened. He pressed his lips fully against hers; enamoured by the familiar scent of her hair and skin that suddenly overtook his senses as he kissed her softly, with a slow burning passion.

Kate smiled as they slowly separated and Galen rested his forehead against hers. Often she found herself wondering just what it was about this man that made her love him so. She’d had few loves in her past, of which Luc had been the most significant. Back then she’d thought him to be her world, in reality she’d spent more of her life waiting for him to come back to her than what they’d spent in each others arms. His death had been like the end of an era and at the same time the start of a new beginning. Her vulnerability had brought Galen into her life; her openness had made him fall in love. In return, his strength and equal gentleness had made her feel so safe… so protected, it had been easy for her to return his feelings.

Kate stroked her thumb against Galen’s hand gently, placing a soft kiss on his lips again before rising to her feet. “I have a… confession to make,” she admitted, tilting her head to one side coyly. “I know we said we wouldn’t, but I got you a little something.”

Her hand slipping free from her husband’s, Kate moved over to the pantry where she kept all her spell equipment. She returned a minute later carrying one of her dusty old Grimoirs. Setting it down on the table, she flicked through the musty pages before removing an envelope, handing it to Galen with an expectant smile.

“Here… for you. Happy Anniversary.”

Galen took the envelope with an air of curiosity, running his finger between the fold, tearing it apart. His inquisitive frown vanished as he removed two tickets. “OH! Oh WOW!” he exclaimed in excitement as he read the print on the stubs. “You got me tickets to Fight Night Friday?” He leapt forward, wrapping his arms around his wife with immense gratitude, holding her close.

Kate smiled happily, returning her husband’s embrace. “I read that it’s supposed to be paper for a first anniversary… and I thought you could take Anton I know he’s a huge, Monte Barrett fan.”

“This is amazing! These tickets are like gold dust! How did you…?”

“Turns out Marianne’s new beau is something of a celebrity,” Kate smiled secretively, “he managed to pull a few strings.” She grinned before forcing a serious frown to her face. “You understand this doesn’t mean that I suddenly approve of your purely testosterone compulsion to watch two guys beat the living daylights out of one another for fun…”

“I understand entirely,” said Galen, leaning forward to plant another devoted kiss on her lips. “I got you something too,” he confessed with a wide grin. “It’s not much but I saw it and it just seemed… right.”

He took Kate by the hand and led her into the living room. She stood quietly by the fireplace while Galen moved books around on the bookcase, reaching behind the stacks. Eventually he removed a rectangular shaped object wrapped up in pretty blue tissue paper with a silver ribbon. Returning to Kate’s side the two of them sat down opposite one another on the rug by the dwindling flames of the fire.

“You really shouldn’t have…” said Kate as Galen placed the present in her hands.

“I wanted to,” he insisted, smiling happily. “Like you said, it’s a special day today.”

Kate looked down at the present sitting on her lap before carefully tearing the paper back. A slow gasp of surprise escaped her lips as she removed a large leather bound book from the sheets of tissue and ribbon. “Oh Galen…” she said in astonishment, running her hands across the soft cover. It looked incredibly expensive, with elaborate swirls and patterns tooled into the thick leather and two broad laces tying the covers together.

“This is beautiful,” she said quietly, unfastening the ties and opening the book, flicking through the blank pages.

Galen smiled in satisfaction. “I know you don’t keep a journal or anything… but I thought you could use it for spells and things… like your notes. And you know its paper after all.”

Kate smiled happily, running her hand over the thick leaves, turning to the first page where Galen had written a small inscription. “My darling Catherine,” she read, “because-”

“Hey, woah! Wait!” exclaimed Galen a little nervously, taking the book and closing it, setting it to one side. “You don’t have to read it in front of me.”

“Awww,” cooed Kate, stroking her fingers through his hair, ruffling it up some. “Don’t tell me you’re shy…” She smiled, her eyes shining with love as she leaned towards her husband. “It’s perfect,” she said quietly, kissing him gently on the mouth again. “You’re perfect. Too good to be true sometimes.”

“Oh I don’t know,” said Galen with a mysterious grin, “being good isn’t nearly as much fun as being bad.”

Kate laughed as he crawled across the floor to where she sat, swiftly sliding an arm around her back before lowering her down onto the rug. Kate looked up into Galen’s eyes, reaching out a hand to brush his hair back from his face. “This wouldn’t be another one of your ‘oh so witty’ preludes to intercourse would it?”

Galen grinned as he leaned low, kissing her gently. “You know me too well.”

Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007

Submitted by Disposable_Hero on Sat, 02/19/2005 - 18:38.

Thursday 19th July,
1:26am
LA

He could hear a sound. A muffled sound, like somebody speaking to him through a door or something. But slowly the sound grew louder and more clearly until he could start making out sounds, and could soon put those sounds together to form words, and those words were...

..."Dude! Wake the hell up, you lazy son of a bitch!"

"Uggh..." Kyle groaned, but even that moan of agony made his head seem to hurt more. Through flickering eyelids he made out Hayden standing before him, leaning down in his face worriedly, but everything else was shockingly bright, so he quickly closed his eyes again. He also tried to put his arms across his eyes, but something was holding them back, and beneath him he felt a tiled floor.

"Yeah, ya chained up." Hayden explained. "And we're in some sort of...urr...well, it's like got tiled floor, and tiled walls, an' tiled ceiling, and its really, really white, and there's this like drain in the middle, and no windows, and oh yeah, one big-ass door that can only be opened by the outside." He paused. "No, wait. You could open it from the inside with like this emergency handle, right, but some dumbass has broken the damn thing so it can't be opened-"

"Hayden." Kyle cut in, wincing even with his eyes closed and talking softly. The back of his head was hurting like hell. . "Where the hell are we, and what the hell happened?"

"Ah, well. That last one I can help ya out with a little. See, we were in the alley with Zax looking at that building, right, and then this guy says-"

"Yes, I remember what he said." Kyle said through clenched teeth. "Get to the goddamned part that I don't remember."

"Right." Hayden's voice continued again. "So, guy turns up. Crack's ya over the head and knocks ya to the floor. Then I got nothin' too. Seems that when ya KO'd, it's like when ya are sleepin', and everything goes black for me. So I ain't got no clue where we are, or what happened to Zax."

"Fantastic. Really great." His voice didn't so much drip with sarcasm as gush with it. "You at least know what happened to my smokes?"

There was a short silence in which Kyle assumed Hayden was shaking his head, obviously the ghost had forgotten Kyle's eyes were still closed. "Nah, sorry, bro."

"This just gets better and better..." The Kaoshian muttered, and was going to question Hayden more, ask him who it was that attacked him, but then there was a sudden clank, and a grinding noise accompanied by a change in pressure that Kyle guessed was the door opening.

"The door's opening!" Hayden whispered urgently.

"No shit." Was Kyle's whispered reply.

"It's not going to get much better for you, believe me." A voice, that same almost-familiar voice, spoke. "For others...me, for example, well, it will."

"I know that voice." Kyle said, his eyes still closed, but with a half-smile on his face. "The Terrifying John Walker, right? You gonna fight this time, or run with your tail between your legs again?" Through intense blinking and tears, the Kaoshian was able to open his eyes and adjust his vision to the harsh light of the room. Sure enough, standing before him was the vampire John Walker. "What can I do for you, John Runner?"

Ignoring the snide remarks, John brought in a metal chair through the heavy, industrial-sized door that looked like it slid open side-ways on rails, and placed the chair in front of Kyle. "Well, you can do quite a lot. You can tell me about some of your friends, for a start." The vampire sat down in the chair.

"I don't have any friends." Kyle answered bluntly, ignoring the look Hayden was giving him. "So go to hell."

"I will, and I'll probably see you there, little fire-demon. But let's cut the crap." Bending forward, John leaned down towards Kyle. "You know some people that my boss wants to get to know better. So start talking. Chance. Alessandra Hunt. Cole Matthews."

Kyle licked his lips, then as he thought about those three names, grinned. "Your boss is Morris, isn't it? That's how you came to catch me outside his place. Because it is his place, isn't it?"

John frowned. "That's not the point. Start talking."

"Go. To. Hell." The Kaoshian said slowly.

John smiled. "I've told you, you and I probably both will. But, speaking of Hell...have you ever wondered what it would be like if hell froze over?" He sat back in his chair, and looked around the room. "You don't know what this place is, do you?" John didn't even wait for Kyle to answer before going on. "I'll tell you. It's a walk-in freezer. This place used to be a butcher's. Hasn't for a while. And, yet, it's in remarkably good condition, and still has power." He leaned in again. "I know you can take a lot of heat, question is, can a fire-demon take a lot of cold?"

Kyle didn't say anything, but just looked up at John and sneered.

"Let's find out." The vampire smiled and stood up, taking the chair back outside. He looked round at Kyle once more and winked, then slid the large door shut.

"Oh, shit." Hayden cursed.

"Yeah." Kyle agreed, and then it started to get cold.

Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007

Submitted by Allyana on Sun, 02/20/2005 - 11:50.

July 13th
10:16 am
Longwood Inc.

“Thank you, Ms. Jordan. Send him in.” Ellis leaned over the intercom and then back on his chair. He stretched, and tried to suppress a yawn, without much success.

“Sleepy, huh?” Asked Mike as he closed the door behind him with his leg. He studied his friend and partner and liked what he saw. Ellis looked relaxed, almost as if he were his old self. Things with the demoness must be heading all right. Sleepiness was always a good sign.

“Yeah,” Ellis answered. He could guess his friend’s thoughts easily enough. Too good he was not asking. The folder in Mike’s massive hands changed his train of thought. He frowned. “What have you got for me?”

“Not much,” Mike walked to the chair in front of the desk and sat down, handing Ellis the folder. He kept silent while the younger man opened it.

“A human? Not that I’m too surprised.” He said, while he went through the few pages. The DNA tests on the cigarette butts found in the murder scenes were conclusive, there was a 99 % match between the samples, corroborating their first guess that the hunter was always the same. The tests also pointed the hunter as human and male. Another confirmed suspicion.

Ellis sighed and closed the folder, even with this new information they were as lost as before. They had absolutely no idea who the hunter could be. “I gather there’s still no information from our people, right?”

“Nothing.” Mike looked completely calm, “the MO is always the same, but it doesn’t fit any of the hunters in our data base. No forced entry, no broken doors or windows, the victims are always caught completely unaware, with no time to react at all.”

“A clean job. Easy too.”

“Way too clean. I had Steve check the workrooms for any dimensional distortion, but-“

“But?”

“Nothing,” Mike repeated. He rushed his hand through his short cropped hair, obviously frustrated. “Not that dimensional portals leave a clear trail behind, but I’m sure Steve would have picked something if that was the case.”

Ellis just nodded, his expression as grim. He didn’t have to ask to know what was in his friend’s mind. If they didn’t find out something soon, the hunter would attack again.

Plump Fiction

Submitted by MrDave on Wed, 02/23/2005 - 19:17.

June 1, 2007
Ventura Boulevard

The car drove down the urban streets. In the background the sound of a heavy backbeat carried over the cool but not unpleasant afternoon air. Inside the car a conversation was taking place.

"The world is composed of 99% dirt and water, Miss Pentacles," the portly man stated to his companion. He was dressed in an unseasonable tweed coat and pants with an antiquated bowler perched atop his almost comical-looking head.

She was dressed in a short red pleated skirt and a white skin-tight top that exposed her midriff with a 'WH' logo on the chest and a blue cape. The delicate feet at the end of her long legs were sporting knee-high vinyl boots in primary red.

"So what is the other 1%, Mr. Cups?" she asked absently picking at something on her front.

"Lint, Miss Pentacles," he answered.

"Lint?" she asked with renewed interest. She regarded the fluff she had picked from her rather ample chest.

"Lint. It is all lint in one form or another," he waved a hand dismissively at the urbanites going about their daily routines, "These humans are mostly minerals and water, but there is, Miss Pentacles, lint at the heart of them."

Miss Pentacles let her captive fluff blow out the window. "Dust in the wind," she said wistfully.

"How poetic, Miss Pentacles, and so very true. Ah, here is our destination. Let us get into character."

The car pulled smoothly into a parking spot in front of the abandoned storefront. The two disembarked in a well-coordinated motion and approached the front door. Bullet holes decorated the stonework around the front door.

Mr. Cups pounded hard on the plywood that had replaced the glass that had formerly filled the door frame. The door cracked open slightly and a single eye peered out. Miss Pentacles kicked the door hard and the two strolled in.

"Good morning boys!" Miss Pentacles said with a bright sunny smile. She flashed bright white teeth and a healthy cleavage at the group. "How are we doing today, boys?"

There were seven young men in typical Crip colors seated in a not-too-shabby living room set. They had a television hooked up to an X-Box and were playing games. There were boxes of booty stacked in carefully categorized sections of the display room floor.

They all just stared at the woman. Mr. Cups pulled out a pocket watch and checked the time. Miss Pentacles stood there for a long time waiting then pouted, "Mr. Cups, did I just ask a question?"

"You did, my dear Miss Pentacles, I heard you," Cups answered.

"We doin' okay," one of them answered. He set down his game controller and slowly stood up.

Mr. Cups turned to the boy, "You must be Brett, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I'm Brett."

"Do you know who we are?" Mr. Cups continued.

"Fuck, no," Brett answered.

Miss Pentacles shook her head, her pigtails bobbling perkily. Mr. Cups took a step forward, "We are associates of your partner Mr. Wallace. Do you remember Mr. Wallace?"

Brett paled slightly, "Yeah, I remember him."

"Good for you," Mr. Cups said looking around, "It appears we caught you at breakfast. What are you enjoying for your repast?"

"Cheeseburgers."

Suddenly Miss Pentacles pulled out an enormous handgun from somewhere beneath her skirt and began firing shots into the other boys. Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Soon, only Brett was standing. He was shaking.

"Miss Pentacles, what are you doing?" Mr. Cups said to her with obvious annoyance.

"I have seen this movie, Mr. Cups and I am fast-forwarding through this part." She dropped the handgun to the floor with a heavy clank.

"Where the fuck did that come from?" Brett said with panic.

"Panties of holding, silly," said Miss Pentacles.

Brett stood there shaking while Mr. Cups walked around him in slow circles. "I hope you have been doing as you were contracted to do. Office supplies? Desks, Chairs. Computer Equipment? It would appear that you have been acquiring toys instead."
Miss Pentacles was inspecting some of the crates piled around. "Here is a stack of DVDs Mr. Cups. Look, From Dusk To Dawn. I loved the first one."

"A classic, Miss Pentacles. And do be careful, I suspect Mr. Wallace may be nearby."

Cups turned his attentions to Brett once more. "Brett, since we are on such an intimate basis. Why did you decide to use the resources we provided for you to knowingly swindle us?"

Brett shook his head, mutely.

Cups pulled out a small vial of clear liquid and dangled it in front of Brett's eyes. "Do you know what this is? Neither do I. I found it inside a stone bier that was buried in the heart of an Egyptian tomb. It is said that it is the essence of the curse of King Hutepokannon. I have been longing to find out."

Miss Pentacles strolled confidently into the back where Mr. Wallace was situated in a hot tub filled with blood. Wallace was brown-toned, scaly and had shoulders with spikes that rose to the height of his head. A head, it might be added that had a dorsal fin with wicked looking spikes as well. Wallace was a Ram Python Demon and did not want to be fucked with.

She stood with hands on hips, her little cape fluttering with unseen wind. "It's time to clean up your act, Wallace," she said by way of challenge.

Wallace snorted. He reached over the side of the tub and lifted a Vulcan rotating cannon with one hand. As he stood to properly bring the weapon to bear, Miss Pentacles shoved her chest forward as if to meet the hail of lead she knew was coming.

"Nice tits," Wallace grunted.

Pentacles snorted, "These are better than 'nice tits', Wallace, they are the last tits you'll ever see."

Wallace pulled the trigger and watched the macabre dance in the strobe-light of the muzzle flare. Miss Pentacles pushed forward against the stream of flying lead as bullets ricochet throughout the back room. Windows shattered, plaster vaporized into dust and the floor exploded in splinters from the deflected projectiles. Her outfit burned away from the heat of molten lead followed by her bra, skirt and cape. As she pushed even closer to Wallace he began to get nervous. Then the Vulcan ran out of ammo.

She fell forward and grabbed a handful of scaly flesh making Wallace wince in pain as she drew him close to whisper through clenched teeth "That was a brand new outfit, Wallace. Bad form."

Out front, Mr. Cups was sitting quietly with Brett. Brett looked smug when the machinegun started followed by a nervous glance over his shoulder when the Vulcan Cannon stopped. Sounds of a fight erupted from the back room.

Cups leaned over and picked something off of Brett's shirt and let it float to the floor. Brett closed his eyes and tears began to roll down his cheeks. He was terrified and wanted to run, but somehow he was afraid that that might make things a lot worse.

"You have a new mission in life Brett. You are going to do as we originally asked. You will need a new team to help you, one that will, I trust, be well versed in the penalties of betrayal. Are we clear?"

Brett nodded with his eyes closed. Mr. Cups grabbed Brett by the throat and pulled him close. Brett's eyes involuntarily opened. He saw Mr. Cups holding the now-opened vial in his face. He witnessed the clear fluid pouring down his shirt. He felt the moistness in his pants and realized it wasn't the clear fluid.

Cups released him and Brett tugged at his shirt in an effort to get it off him. He flung it into a corner and turned to face Cups. Cups inspected the vial with a frown on his face. "Bugger," he said, "I do believe that was the wrong vial. Ah well, your luck has held today Brett. Be sure to clean up this lint. Coming, Miss Pentacles?"

Miss Pentacles exited the back room drenched from head to toe in blood. It ran down her body and she left a conspicuous trail of blood behind her. She looked upset. Cups tipped his hat, "Nice homage to Carrie, my dear. I'm impressed."

She looked down at herself and laughed, "Thank you, Mr. Cups, I was afraid it might be too obscure for a something improvised."

"I can assume Mr. Wallace been properly chastised, then?" asked Cups.

Pentacles looked back towards the back room, "I got medieval on his ass, Mr. Cups."

"Excellent. Then we need to get back in character, because we have a job to do."

Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007

Submitted by Heather on Sat, 02/26/2005 - 15:02.

Thursday, July 19, 2007, 5:46 pm

Drew handed the man a couple of bills at the door and took hold of the room service cart, wheeling it into the lounge where Tash stood looking out onto the balcony. “Dinner’s here,” he announced, stopping near the sofa. “Hope you’re hungry.”

Drew lifted one silver tray from the cart and placed it on the coffee table, and then the other. “Uhm, Tash?” She was still staring silently out at the late afternoon sky. “You okay?”

“Hmm?” Tash turned, her eyes still locked in some far-distant world. A puzzled frown creased her forehead as she stared uncomprehendingly at the table with its cargo of covered plates, then she smiled in embarrassment.

“Sorry, I was miles away. Yeah, I am hungry. Thanks.”

She unwrapped her cutlery from the heavy linen napkin and waited for Drew to sit before she lifted the lid from her dinner. Aromatic steam wafted up and teased her taste buds with the promise of fine things to come, and she made noises of appreciation. A second dish lay to one side, containing the rich tiramisu that Tash had ordered for her dessert.

Drew settled himself at the table as well and lifted the lid on his own meal. It smelled delicious, but he should have realized on ordering it that the elaborately prepared moussaka would only remind him of Daye. She’d prepared it many times for him before, which is where a Southern California boy had developed the taste for the rich Middle Eastern dish. Drew toyed with the food on his plate for a few minutes, but finally pushed it away untouched. He suppressed the urge to sigh, settling his chin in his palm and allowing his mind to wander for just a minute.

*I wonder what she’s doing right now?* he thought. *Probably sitting down to dinner with Sam and Maia; or perhaps she’s gone out; maybe she’s meeting him...*

“Hey,” Tash chided gently, “I thought we’d agreed not to mope at each other. Especially since I can hear every word you think when you’re like this.” She poked her tongue out at him playfully, but her attempt soon transformed to a sad smile.

“You know, she’s probably sitting at home moping too. In fact, I’m almost sure of it.” Sighing, Tash thought about the long, long talk she’d had with Daye just yesterday and the words she’d said to her friend: “You can’t undo what’s done – but now you’re miserable, Drew is miserable and I can only assume Marcus is somewhat miserable. At least I hope he is. The thing is, what are you going to do about it now?”

“You think so?” Drew couldn’t keep the hopeful note from creeping into his voice. At this point, one of his greatest fears was that his reaction to what Amanda had said had driven her straight into the other man’s arms. Imagining her with Dalton was for some reason harder than all the other terrible things he’d imagined her doing in the last few weeks. He really despised the other man.

“Wait, have you- have you talked to her?” Drew asked, suddenly realising the possibility. “Did she call you, Tash? Is she all right? Did she say anything about me? What did she say?”

Drew’s enthusiasm was almost comical, but Tash could understand full well what fuelled it. She nodded. “Yesterday. She’s in pretty bad shape, too.” Tash gave a short, hollow laugh. “Probably the only one of our particular foursome who isn’t wracked with utter misery is Onyx. But yeah, I saw Daye yesterday. And we talked about nothing else but you, if you must know. She’s… look, she told me she’d already started to lose her shine for Marcus. And now that you’ve left, she’s just… well, she’s like you. And me. Desolate. Inconsolable. She’s pining – for you. She’s not gone to see him. She doesn’t want to.”

Well, maybe that last was a little bit of a stretch, but Tash knew Daye wasn’t interested in running to Marcus on the rebound. She’d said, in so many words, that Marcus had been a big, big mistake. Tash didn’t think it was a mistake she’d repeat.

*‘She told me yesterday she’d already started to lose her shine for Marcus.’* Drew didn’t think he’d ever heard more welcome words. It was easy to pretend that he was holding up well enough when Tash was around. During the long summer days he could find something to do to pass the hours, but at night, when he was alone, Drew felt as if he were torn in two. Half of him lay in the cold, empty hotel bed and the other half was across the city with the woman he loved, the only woman he’d ever loved. The thing that killed him, a little bit more with every passing day, was thinking that she was in love with another man and there was nothing he could do about it. But, maybe, just maybe, that wasn’t the way things were.

Drew sighed heavily. “Tash, I just, I miss her so damn much. I really… I want to… but I don’t know if I can. How damn many times can I forgive her and start over?”

“I don’t know. I may not be the best person to ask that right now. But you and Daye – you had something real. It wasn’t fake, it wasn’t trickery. It was real – and I don’t think it ever went away. You can wash your hands of the whole thing and say ‘enough’s enough’ and nobody would blame you for it. But I think you’d spend the rest of your life wondering what would have happened if you’d started talking to her again.”

Drew couldn’t deny the truth of Tash’s words. Not to mention the fact that it hurt so much right now to be away from her that sometimes the pain took away his breath. “I wonder right now what she’s doing every time I don’t watch myself,” Drew admitted sadly. “I try not to think about her, you know? But I do anyway.”

Drew paused, looking thoughtful. “It’s not like before the wedding, or anything. Back then, it was all I could do to control my jealousy, my anger. Now, mostly, I just wonder if she’s all right, and I worry about her, and about Maia. I miss them. I miss my family. It’s funny; before this happened, even when I was trying to open myself back up, part of me was closed. I was scared and maybe, I don’t know, too proud to admit that. I couldn’t say what was on my mind, and now… I’ve got no pride left. All I’ve got is regret and pain.”

Tash’s fish slowly cooled as she used her fork to move the mushrooms about aimlessly. Such a pity Drew hadn’t come to this realisation before the wedding, when Daye had needed to talk things out. And such a pity Daye hadn’t had more spine instead of just going along with Drew’s quick marriage. A little communication at the right time could have gone a long way. Tash had felt like a helpless bystander for most of it, unable to stop the inevitable but knowing it was coming.

“Well, it’s not too late you know. The damage isn’t irreparable yet. It’s just a matter of whether you’re willing to put in the work to fix the broken bits – and of asking Daye if she wants to try, too. This isn’t like the wedding; you can’t just steamroller her into it this time.” Tash shook her head. “I knew she wasn’t ready, but neither Kate nor I could talk her into asking you to delay it a bit. But there’s no point going over the past. Like I said to Daye, what’s done is done. It can’t be undone – only repaired.”

Drew couldn’t hide the quick flash of hurt in his eyes at Tash’s words. *Steamroller her?* he wondered. *Is that what I did? Oh, God... it is. I didn’t talk to her because I was as afraid of what she might say as I was of what I might. Good Lord, I’ve been more responsible for this than I’d realised.*

“I should have talked to her before the wedding,” Drew said softly. “I, I should have told her everything. How I felt, and why. I should have let her tell me what she was feeling too. I was such a fool.” Drew looked bleakly at Tash. “If, if we can’t,” his voice was thick with emotion, “it’ll be my fault. Despite what she did with... with... him... it will be because of me.”

Tash resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose, but between Daye and Drew she just wanted to bash their heads together sometimes. Now was one of those times.

“Drew,” she said patiently, “it’s not a case of whose fault it is. It’s everyone’s fault. Yours, Daye’s Marcus’. Hell, mine and Kate’s, really, for not pushing the issue harder when we could see what was happening here. Forget about fault. Dammit, man, the future is what you have to worry about now.”

Drew nodded. “Yeah, but how do I..? Will she even see me? Tash...”

He sprang to his feet. “I have to talk to her. I have to. We have to try. I can’t go on this way. I feel like I’m in purgatory or something. I hate this. I hate it here. I want to go home to my wife. I want to talk to Amanda. I need to work things out.” Drew was moving frantically about the room, apparently preparing to leave.

Tash gazed in some dismay at Drew’s abrupt activity. “Uh, okay, that’s good, but… I hate to put a damper on things, but it might not be a bad idea to perhaps call her first? See if she’s ready for a meeting, perhaps? Though,” her tone turned wistful, “there’s a certain romanticism to rushing over there all fervent… But, no. You two have probably had enough of fervent for a while. Just a thought.”

Drew stopped in mid-stride and turned towards Tash. He stared at her for a moment, and then began to laugh softly. “Fervent...” he chuckled. “Enough of fervent?” He started to laugh harder. “Oh... oh... that’s good. Yeah...”

Drew finally managed to calm himself. He set down the shoe he’d been holding and sat down beside Tash once again, looking chagrined. “Yeah, I’ll wait and call her later,” he said. “That’s a good idea. Thanks, Tash. Thanks a lot.”

“Anytime, Drew. Besides, I’d hate to miss out on my tiramisu.” Tash winked, pushed aside her half-eaten main course and started in on her rich dessert. “You know that chocolate is the best cure for emotional upset? I need every bit I can get right now.” She grinned at him, but it felt empty.

Drew winced at Tash’s words. “Right. Uh, sorry, Tash. You’ve been through the wringer too, and I keep dumping on you. So, how are you doing, anyway? With the whole Onyx thing, I mean.”

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re more in need of counselling than I am. I mean, you’ve still got something that might be salvaged. I just have to get on with things, is all.” Tash’s fork stabbed harder into her dessert, the tines scraping loudly on the plate. “It’s not like there was ever anything real about me and Onyx. I never fell in love with her, just succumbed to a spell. Nothing else.” The fork began to bend, and Tash put it down with a clatter, staring at the mess she’d made on the table.

“Uh, sorry, Drew.”

“No, that’s okay, Tash,” Drew said. He rose and grabbed a napkin off the room service cart and quickly wiped up the mess. “Don’t worry about it. You’ve got every reason to be upset, and you need to talk as much as I do. You were lied to and betrayed, and in a way it’s worse because Onyx... I’m sorry, Tash. I’m so sorry for what happened to you.”

Staring at her plate, Tash could only see Onyx’s beautiful face staring back at her. But beyond that lay a deeper hurt. Her love affair with Onyx had come so closely on the heels of Victor’s loss that Tash felt in some way that she’d betrayed his memory. *It was only a spell. It wasn’t real,* she reminded herself. But it had felt completely real. Her anger had quickly turned to despair and now she fought them both down, trying to recapture the detachment of her earlier years. *Stick to the problems, not the emotions.*

“The thing that worries me most,” she began, lifting her head again, her face set in a resolute mask, “is what she plans to do with the knowledge she stole from me. Some of that stuff is pretty powerful. She said – sang – something about resurrecting a queen.”

Drew looked concerned. This stuff wasn’t anything he knew much about. Sure, his knowledge base was growing by leaps and bounds lately, not just because of Amanda but also because of the time he’d spent trying to help Chinaka. But Drew didn’t know how to begin to advise Tash on what to do about this.

“Resurrecting a queen?” he finally repeated. “Queen of what?”

Tash shrugged and made an attempt to eat her dessert without destroying it this time. Talking about the less personally upsetting elements of Onyx’s deceit at least saved the crockery. She ignored the tiny voice that told her she was shutting the world out again. It was better this way – less painful.

“Well, it’s not a point we lingered on at the time, but I presume she meant the queen of her race.” Tash gave Drew an odd look. “You did know Onyx was a demon, right?”

*A demon?* Drew blinked in surprise. *That’s news to me... though not very surprising news considering she serves the “Prince of Darkness” himself, I guess.*

“No, I hadn’t known that,” Drew replied. *Tash sure does have a singularly strange taste in lovers, though.*

Trying not to blush at Drew’s unspoken remark, Tash pretended she hadn’t ‘heard’ it. She stuffed the last of the tiramisu in her mouth and chewed slowly, savouring the rich chocolate.

“Ah, I see. Well, she is,” Tash replied dismissively. “Hmph. I’ll have to start trying to find out what she proposes to do, exactly, and see if it’s a danger to the rest of us. No rest for the wicked, eh Drew?”

Drew frowned. “Uhm, Tash... You should give yourself some time, maybe,” he suggested. “Onyx... well, demon or not, she hurt you and she used you. I’m rather sure she’s not on the same side we are, but I don’t know if you’re the best person to be looking into it right now. You’re awfully close to this one, you know?”

Tash’s eyes grew hollow as she contemplated the next several days. Without something specific to do she doubted she could hold it all together. And right now there wasn’t much showing up on the radar. There was always hunting, of course – it had been a while since she’d been out patrolling alone, and there was always a sort of peace in that. But that would only occupy her for a few hours each night. What would she do the rest of the time?

“Well, maybe…” she answered reluctantly. “But really, who else knows Onyx as well as me? Trouble is, I can’t imagine what she might be trying to do – all the knowledge she took from me is gone. It’s like I never knew it in the first place. It’s going to make it tough to piece together any clues she might leave as she starts to work.”

Drew looked thoughtful. “And is there no one else who would even have an idea of where to begin?” he asked. “Did you ever talk about any of this with Amanda or Kate or anyone? Seems to me you might have, but I don’t know... you had your own issues with this vodoun knowledge, I guess. Honestly, I wish I’d had a chance to interview you. The things you must have known would have been incredible to chronicle. Vodoun is such a distinct branch of the paranormal. I’ve hardly ever been able to get any sort of concrete information. The whole community is even more secretive than most magic based groups. You can’t begin to imagine how that can be from a purely scientific standpoint. Why, I remember once, I travelled to Louisiana...”

Drew trailed off at the expression on Tash’s face, and blushed. “Uh, yeah. Sorry.”

Clearing her throat, Tash rose from the table and paced about the room a little before coming to rest leaning against the back of the sofa. “Yeah, I can ask Daye and Kate – they should at least know where to find research materials. Heck, even you – mere mortal that you are – might have some useful snippet.” Tash winked at Drew.

Drew looked askance at her. “Mere mortal?” He waggled his brows comically. “That’s not what the ladies say.”

A laugh bubbled its way out of Tash’s throat. “Oh yes? And which ladies would these be, then?” she asked in mock-seriousness. “It could slow down the reconciliation process if Daye finds out you’ve been gadding about town.”

*Chinaka.* Drew’s mind conjured a picture of the scene just after he’d left Amanda and he had the decency to blush once more. “Uhm... no, there’s no one. You know there’s no one else for me but her,” his voice grew gentle and sad. “There’ll never be anyone else for me, Tash. It would be unfair to get involved with another woman when I’ve given my heart to Amanda so completely.”

The laughter faded from Tash’s lips as she grew pensive once more. “Yeah,” she said softly. “Yeah, I know.” Shaking herself from sinking into reverie, she pasted on a smile.

“And on that note, I really should say thanks for the dinner and leave you be. You have a phone call to make, I believe.”

Drew nodded, smiling gratefully. “Yeah, I guess I do. Thanks, Tash. Thanks for listening to me and for having dinner with me. Thanks for just being my friend. You’ve really helped me a lot.”

Tash gathered up her things and headed to the door. “Hey, it goes both ways. These talks we have are my only islands of sanity in a world gone crazy. It’s… this might sound odd, but knowing that you’re feeling much the same sorts of things I’m feeling makes it easier to bear somehow. Even though it sucks for both of us, it just seems to suck less for a little while.”

Shaking her head, Tash chuckled. “Listen to me crapping on. Look, give me a call tomorrow. Maybe we can go out somewhere for lunch. That is, if you’re not going to be seeing Daye… Hmm, good luck with the call. I hope it goes well.” She winked conspiratorially. “Let me know, okay?”

Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007

Submitted by Logan on Sun, 02/27/2005 - 02:56.

July 17th,
9:23 PM
Poplar Avenue

“mmmm, stay in bed love.”

Darian could feel Liala’s warm breath caress the nape of his neck, as she ran her hands over his broad shoulders, down his back, ending teasingly at his inner thighs.

“Again?” he smiled somewhat disbelievingly. “We’ve been in bed for almost 24 hours straight. You gotta give a guy at least a few minutes to recuperate”.

Her gentle fingers lingered a moment, as if waiting for his mind to change, but when it was obvious it wouldn’t, she pulled away and laid back down. Her silvery blond hair cascaded around the pillow, glistening slightly in the soft light of the now almost burnt out candle that flickered on the bedside table.

“This is how it should be,” she whispered lovingly. “You and I together.”

“You and I together” he repeated ambiguously, before putting on his boxers.

“Where are you going?”

“To the bathroom.”

Liala watched disconcertedly as Darian disappeared into the hallway. He did still love her, that much the fae was sure. She could feel it in him, see it in his actions, (and, lets not forget he sang it while under the influence of Sweet’s grand concerto). But still, love was not the only emotion the man fostered. Distrust, resentment, sadness; they were all there just as painfully obvious as his love, and the fae knew that while those thorns still existed things wouldn’t be the same between them. “I want you back Darian Gray, and you should know,” she huffed, throwing off the covers, while putting on one of Darian’s far too large t-shirts, “I always get what I want.”

“Jeez Liala,” Darian said startled, as he opened the bathroom door, only to find the undine waiting impatiently outside it. “I would think you were waiting to use the toilet, but you don’t ever need to go to the bathroom,” he said trying to step past her, but Liala did not move.

“I know that look” Darian sighed, waiting for the inevitable.

“Listen to me very closely Darian,” she ordered, as she practically dragged him from the hallway into the living room. “I love you and you love me.”

“What is this about Liala?” Darian interrupted a little put off. Given the circumstances between them, he didn’t really see what right she had getting upset, let alone, what exactly she was getting upset over.

“Don’t pretend like you don’t know what this is about! You know what this is about!”

“Oh yes, that’s what its like having a girlfriend.”

“This is no time for jokes Darian. I know you still resent me, and I know you don’t trust me. Don’t even deny it,” she cut in, seeing the man about to open his mouth. “But if we or rather you don’t get past what happened, well then there can’t be a ‘we’”.

Darian sat there temporarily stunned. “You…you are yelling at me over this?!”

“Yes I am yelling at you for this, thank you for paying attention!” she shot back, losing none of her fiery temper.

“How the hell can you blame me for feeling this way? You left me remember? You’re the one who just took off without so much as a good-bye, let alone an explanation.”

“Why don’t you just let it go?!” she cried out. “We love each other, and I’m here now. Can’t we just be happy?”

Darian wanted that more than anything in the world, but he just couldn’t give into the feelings. Deep down, if there was one thing on par with his love, it was the terrifying thought of losing her again…but if they weren’t really together again, well it could never happen.

“I don’t know Liala,” he finally said. “I just don’t know.”

“So we just have sex for an entire day and then you were going to what? Toss me aside? Is that what kind of man you’ve become now? Did it mean nothing to you?!” the undine barked, as tears threatened to escape her beautiful blue eyes.

“Of course it meant something! It meant EVERYTHING. God damnit Liala, how can you say those things? You know how I feel, for fucks sake, you're a psychic so don’t play games! You, you mean the world to me, you did then and you do now, but how can it be the same between us? How can I trust that you won’t leave again? I loved you and I still do, but I can’t take losing you again.”

“And you wont lose me again, I promise,” she whimpered, drawing close, only to have Darian shy away.

“How can I believe you?”

There was a long moment where the two stood looking into each others eyes until Liala finally broke the silence. "I never wanted to leave you.."

Greece
July 19th
1920

Liala awoke on the soft sands of the beach, her naked body covered only by the arm of Darian who was still fast asleep beside her. He seemed so peaceful and happy she noted as she examined his beautiful face.

After a gentle kiss on the tip of his snoring nose, the undine carefully lifted his heavy arm. She smiled softly down at him as she rose, pleased that she hadn’t disturbed his sleep. “I wonder what you are dreaming of?” she whispered to him, before tiptoeing into the waters. The sea was warm and inviting, and for a moment she contemplated changing into her natural form and going off for a swim. *But prince charming will be awake soon* she beamed, looking back at Darian. *Well, either he wakes up soon, or the rising tide will wake him up*

The undine continued to frolic quietly in the water, enjoying the peaceful morning, until something odd dragged her from her thoughts. At first it was barely noticeable, but it did not take long for the water faery to sense it…the tide…it had stopped. And just as quickly as Liala had detected the anomaly, she realized exactly what it meant. “Oh God, Darian!” she called out, but it was too late. Standing over her sleeping lover, was a tall, slender man, dressed in shimmering blue robes. Long silver hair contoured his bony face, somewhat obscuring his unnaturally blue eyes. What was most amazing however was the brilliant aura that radiated from him, visible only to those who beheld from immortal eyes.

“My lord,” Liala gasped, running from the waters, and falling to her knees before him. “My lord, please…”

“Hush my child,” he whispered soothingly, his eyes filled with stern resolve. “Have you spent so long on the mortal plane that you forget the ways of our people?”

“My lord this is different, he’s different,” she pleaded pitifully, looking over to Darian hoping he would suddenly wake.

“He will remain a sleep under my spell so long as I am here,” the water king announced, understanding her thoughts as clear as if she had voiced them allowed. “And even if your lover did wake, what would that accomplish? Would you both run? Perhaps try and strike me down? Come now my dear, you know such ideas are futile.”

Liala said nothing, instead turning her tearful eyes to Darian who was still a sleep and oblivious to the grave situation that was taking place around him.

“You had to have known this was doomed from the beginning my child. Not only is he human, but a dark prince of the Nero’Val crawls beneath his skin. You know unions between us and the dark fae are forbidden, let alone relationships with..mortals.”

“But he isn’t a Nero’Val,” Liala sobbed, crawling over to Darian, and clutching his face in her shaking hands. “It’s a curse of human magic, its not his fault. Please…please, these circumstances..”

“Change nothing," he interrupted. "You know I wish you no malice my dear, but there are no exceptions to our laws. You must terminate your relationship with this man immediately, least I have to take matters into my own hands,” the water king replied unsympathetically.

“But I love him,” she whispered pathetically through her frantic sobs. “Please, you can’t force me to leave him.”

For the first time, the man’s eyes seemed to show signs of compassion and sorrow. “I will not force you to leave him, but just understand what you give up if you choose to stay with him.”

Present Day

“I don’t understand,” Darian interrupted Liala, who was now starting to tear as she told the story. “What did he mean? What would you have given up?”

The undine paused, choking back on the words.

“Liala, its ok,” Darian comforted, now forgetting all the anger he was feeling moments before. “Its ok,” he repeated.

“Had I stayed,” she whispered through cracked voice, “I would have lost my immortality.”

“But…” was all that Darian could manage to get out.

“No matter how good of a man you are Darian, our people will forever see you as part dark fae, and because of it, we couldn’t be together. Had I stayed, my lord would have punished me by taking my immortality. Oh forgive me Darian, I was such a coward, and I wanted to tell you, but I was so ashamed,” she whimpered.

“Shhhh, shhhhh,” he reassured, wrapping Liala in a gentle hug. After a moment, Darian drew back and tried to process everything about her overwhelming story. “But, I don’t understand. What changed between then and now? Why is it now we can be together?”

Liala looked up meekly at her confused love. “Rules don’t change. But after I found out that Kronor was loose in your realm, and out for your blood, I had to come” she said, taking his hand, and placing it against her chest. “Can you sense it?”

At first, Darian was more perplexed than ever, but then what he sensed (or rather did not sense) made things crystal clear.

“You get it now,” she said, noticing Darian’s expression change to one of shock. “I did what I should have done all those years ago.”

The half-fae almost reeled back in his seat, as he drew his hand back. “But…but…this is impossible, no, I saw you use your magic.”

“The moment I re-entered the mortal realm, the process began slowly. At first, when I fought Kronor I could barely notice it, but it’s happening nevertheless. My powers will soon fade, and as time goes on, I will age, and I will die,” she said almost bewildered by the statement. “But it doesn’t matter,” she smiled through her tears, “because I would rather spend a fleeting mortal’s life with you, than spend an eternity never knowing your love again. Now Darian Gray,” she said, looking lovingly into his eyes, “do you have enough proof that I love you?”

“Liala…” he was speechless, but in a situation like this, what use were words. What could he say that would be appropriate? Liala had given up immortality to be with him.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she whispered, before moving closer, and bringing her soft lips to his.

The signpost up ahead...

Submitted by MrDave on Sun, 02/27/2005 - 16:11.

June 8, 2005

She stopped along the way and handed out a few pills to some of the more creative madmen (and one madwoman - one cannot afford to neglect one's own sex). One of them had bitten the tongue off of one of the burly male nurses and had placed it in a tiny paper cup to hand to her as a gift. She was keeping it in her pocket for later.

She left a dark red cherry-flavored lipstick mark on the cheek of a child obviously suffering from an eating disorder and watched with amusement the sight of her trying to lick her own cheek. But the novelty soon wore off and she resumed her rounds down the hall

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

In a tortu...er...treatment room, a dapper gentleman in a bowler hat was asking questions to a man strapped down to a table. Behind him a tall and thin wild-eyed teen with yellowed teeth was manipulating controls on the ECT machine. The dapper gentlemen had asked him nicely to not jump the current during the questioning, but the boy's enthusiasm for his work was charming and the gentleman considered that one had to learn the appropriate skills for his kind of work somewhere.

The doctor was shaking at the moment from the rather substantial current that was flowing through his body, and the smell of singeing flesh was making the gentleman somewhat hungry. He had skipped his tea to come on this inspection and was not impressed by what he had found so far.

Here was this fine mental health facility, built on the ground of two previous facilities and there were little or no skeletons in any of the metaphysical closets he had inspected all evening. He had taken to questioning the staff, and while he managed to illicit a confession or two of unethical treatment and one case of sexual abuse, the impression he was getting was that he would have had better luck finding the right balance of pathos and heroism elsewhere. This place was just not extreme enough.

His partner - whose job it was generally to sanitize the taint of evil from these places - was off playing at her silly costume games, having found nothing evil enough to warrant the use of her rather ample talents. She amused herself with a curious mixture of chaos and childlike delight, which, the gentleman had to admit, was often entertaining. But he had work to do.

His job, in these places, was to measure the heroic quotient - test the humanity of the occupants. Was this the sort of place that would see a champion rise? Was this the right place that would be graced at the right time? Not here, he had to admit in disgust.

He scratched a numeral 11 on the dial marker of the voltage controls to the delight of his young pupil who eagerly tested its effectiveness just as the leggy nurse in the skintight vinyl suit steeped into the room. The pale child at the controls immediately pulled down his pants and began to masturbate. She just smiled at him affectionately, flattered at the compliment.

The gentleman seemed exasperated at her suggestion that he should have to set himself in the contraption she had wheeled into the room since- he argued - that there was nothing at all wrong with his legs. She, however, countered that it was hospital policy and proceeded to seat him and placed a blanket over his legs, which she tucked into the sides most snugly.

She wheeled the dapper man down the hall and past the few patients to whom she had issued pills, noting with some satisfaction that they were already transforming nicely and that by the time the two of them had reached the final location on their list of places to inspect that the true inner monsters of these delightfully psychotic patients would be completely revealed.

A Field Spotters Guide To Supernatural Phenomenon wrote:

Enormous negative discharges are often preceded by a series of lesser phenomenon that can have an effect not unlike the appearance of volcanic activity. In the case of Plinian eruptions there are often small tremors, steam vents, rockslides and rock domes that telegraph the event. The eruption of a supernatural focus of negative morality can often be predicted by the tracking of smaller eruptions of negative energies that can take any of a number of forms including madness, spontaneous undead, demonic mutations and spontaneous transformations.

daye and drew discuss reconciliation

Submitted by Firefly on Tue, 03/01/2005 - 22:51.

*** Saturday, July 21, 2007, 11:24 am ***

Daye fiddled with the napkin before her on the table in the quiet elegance of the dining room of a restaurant in a pricey hotel uptown. Drew was supposed to meet her here any minute now. She had no idea what he had in mind, but at least he’d finally returned her phone call this morning. She’d hoped he might after talking to Tash and hearing that he at least hadn’t said he hated her. Now, though butterflies skittered around in her stomach as she waited for her husband to arrive. What if he was coming to say that although he didn’t hate her, he couldn’t forgive her either? What would she do then?

*Don’t think that way,* Daye told herself. *You will work this out. You have to.*

These last few days, being apart from Drew, it had just reinforced for her how much she loved him. Daye wanted them to be able to make another go at this, but she was also afraid that she’d used up all her second chances with the man she loved.

Daye glanced up and smiled shyly when Drew finally arrived at the table. He looked…tired, but good. “Hi,” she said. “I…it’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too…,” Drew caught himself as the endearment hovered on the tip of his tongue. He couldn’t just act as if everything was normal when he had no idea what they were going to do next.

“How…” “Is Maia…” They both spoke at the same time, tripping over one another’s words. Daye laughed. “No…please go ahead,” she said.

Drew blushed and shrugged. “I was just wondering how Maia was doing,” he said. “I guess…she must be pretty confused right now.”

Daye nodded. “She is…and she really misses you. I…I do too.”

Drew closed his eyes for a moment, as his heart squeezed in his chest. “I miss you too,” he admitted when he opened them back up. “This is…hard.”

Daye nodded again. “I…I know, but I’m so glad you called me. Drew…I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for the things I did and for the way that I handled them. I’ve been an idiot, a fool. I just…I hope that I haven’t messed everything up for good.”

Drew didn’t respond at first. He sat quietly and studied Daye. Finally, he reached out and took her hand lightly in his own. “I don’t know, Amanda. I just know…I hate being without you. I hate laying down in a cold, empty bed at night and I hate waking up without you beside me in the morning. I hate not having you there to talk to, to touch and kiss, to share things with. I’ve been trying these last few days to figure out how I can make it the rest of my life without you, and I just can’t.”

Daye felt tears gathering in her eyes at his words. She didn’t deserve this man and she certainly wasn’t worthy of the love he’d shown her always. But she wanted to be. “Drew…I feel the same way. I…I’m so lonely without you. I just…I want to make things right between us again. I don’t know how, but I want to.”

Drew sighed. “I hate to ask, but what about Dalton? What are you going to do about him?”

“He’s not a part of this…not anymore…” Daye replied without hesitation. “Marcus doesn’t matter.”

Drew shook his head. “But he does. Amanda, I know you. If you have feelings for them, then you have feelings for him. You aren’t some starstruck teenager. I know you. You know your heart.”

Daye shook her head this time. “No…I mean, I thought I did, but it was…things were so complicated. I’m not perfect, Drew. I make mistakes too. You…sometimes you don’t want to see me as flawed, as human. That’s not fair, you know.”

“I do…I know now. Kate…Tash…hell, even Sam…they all warned me. They told me I needed to see you for who you are, but I wouldn’t listen. After Delancre…after Hyde…that’s why I wouldn’t talk to you. I couldn’t seem to reconcile the you in my head with the you in my heart. I wanted you to be perfect, because my love for you is. But that wasn’t fair. I expected too much, and I wouldn’t be honest…I couldn’t.”

“Still…I could have demanded it of you,” Daye replied. “I should have. I was…I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t want to deal with any of it either.”

“Now we have to deal with it…and everything else,” Drew said. “I told you how I feel, and you know what I want. It’s your turn.”

Daye started to speak, but Drew cut her off. “Wait. I don’t want you to tell me now. I want you to really think about it. I want you to go home and really think, about me…and about Dalton. Then, and only then, I want you to decide.”

Daye looked puzzled. “But, Drew, I…”

Drew shook his head at her again. “No…Baby. You’re just rushing ahead and rushing hasn’t done us a hell of a lot of good lately. Please, just do this my way…just take a little time. When you have…then I’ll be ready for whatever you decide.”

Drew stood up and leaned across the table, pressing his mouth briefly to Daye’s. “Whatever happens, Amanda,” he murmured, “I’ll always love you.”

Daye watched him turn and leave. She slowly rose as well. She had a lot to think about, because Drew had been right. She needed to know her own heart before she could really know where to go from here.

Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007

Submitted by Heather on Tue, 03/01/2005 - 22:55.

Saturday, 21st July 2007 – 9:35pm

Tash wandered the streets, feeling a little dazed. Hunger gnawed at her, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten anything since the night before, but mostly she just wanted somewhere quiet to rest. Looking around, she slowly registered her surroundings. She was a long way from Poplar Avenue, but Drew’s new lodging wasn’t too far away. It could be reached by foot, at least. She tried hard to think what might have happened to her bike, but she feared it was long lost after last night’s insanity.

Rolling her neck, she felt the sinews in her shoulders stretching. “Ok, Drew, let’s see if you’re home.”

Half an hour later she was knocking on the door to his hotel room. It opened a crack and a surprised looking Drew poked his head out.

“Tash, hi. I wasn’t expecting you... Uh, come in.”

“Sorry to drop in on you like this,” Tash replied as she eased her way into the lounge area of the hotel suite and slumped into a chair, “but I was kind of stuck. Bike’s been stolen, and I had a rotten night last night.”

Drew nodded slowly and sat on the couch facing Tash’s chair. “I know how it goes. I’ve been having horrible nights too… night time is the worst, I think. During the day you can busy yourself with other things, but at night, when you’re lying in the dark, alone… That’s when the memories can’t be pushed aside.”

A frown crossed Tash’s features. “Yeah, memories…”

Lost in his own world, Drew continued, “Tash, I think I’ve made a terrible mistake. I pushed Daye, didn’t I? I wanted so hard to believe that once we were married everything would be fine again, that we’d somehow just forget all about that damn Hyde. She tried to talk, I know she did, but I didn’t want to listen. I didn’t want to hear about what she’d been through because… because…”

“Because it was too painful? Too embarrassing? Because deep down you wanted to punish her?”

“No. No, not like that. I think it was because I didn’t want my picture of her ruined by what she’d done. I saw her as this perfect creature, and I didn’t want my illusions shattered.”

He gave a hollow laugh. “Well, they got shattered, all right. But it doesn’t matter now. I finally see her as she really is. So she’s flawed – aren’t we all? I deserve to at least give her a chance to be herself, to stop trying to squeeze her reality into the portrait of perfection I have in my mind. That is, if she’ll let me…”

Tash shifted restlessly on the chair. Tonight she just wasn’t in the mood to listen to Drew’s ramblings about how badly he’d fucked up his relationship. Still, she had to say something.

“So you’re thinking you might be able to reconcile? That’s great… at least you have something to reconcile. But then, I seem to be getting over the whole Onyx thing already. It’s not bothering me tonight. So it’s good that Daye’s past behaviour isn’t bothering you any more either. You two can patch it up, forgive her for fucking Marcus on the eve of your wedding, and just get on with your lives.”

For several seconds Drew sat in shocked silence. He blinked slowly. “Tash, are you feeling okay tonight?”

“Me? Oh, I’m just dandy.”

“Uh, when you said earlier you’d had a bad night last night, I thought you meant… you know, the whole sleeping alone thing and all that.”

“No, I meant I’d had a horrible night. Well, I dunno. It seems less horrible the more I think about it… Here, let me tell you about it. You might want to get comfy, it’s a bit of a long story.”

Still somewhat taken aback at Tash’s abrupt comment, Drew nevertheless appreciated an interesting story. And if there was one thing he’d learned about Tash, it was that she didn’t exactly lead a boring life. So he settled in, leaning his back against the wall, and watched while Tash leaned forward, pressing her fingertips together as she stared at the carpet, no doubt gathering her thoughts.

“Last night I decided it had been too long since I’d gone out on a proper hunt. Just me and the night air. I’d tracked down a vampire and was following him. He was nothing special, just a run of the mill vamp – the perfect warm up. An easy kill…”

*****

Friday, 20th July 2007 – 10:18pm

“Damn,” Tash muttered as the vampire twisted at the last second, sending her crossbow bolt skittering harmlessly off a wall. Before she had time to reload, he was upon her and she dropped the weapon to defend herself from his assault.

Old patterns asserted themselves and Tash found herself doing as she’d done for countless nights over the years, fighting the hand to hand battle with ease. Gradually she’d wear this vampire down, waiting for the perfect moment to plunge her stake into his heart and end his evil existence. It was what she’d been trained for. For the past fifteen years it had been her driving force. It was who she was.

She ducked, blocked, punched, kicked, and kept her senses alert for that microsecond opening. All she needed was that one opportunity to destroy him. Sooner or later he’d make a simple mistake and-

“Oof.”

The air rushed out of her lungs and the yellow eyes of the vampire loomed close, his mouth curled in a triumphant leer as Tash sank to her knees.

“Wassa matter girly? You not lookin’ so cocky now.”

Tash pushed aside the momentary edge of panic, and centred herself once more in that place of calm aloofness that she strove for each time she fought. She could almost hear Matthias’ voice reminding her that the surest way to defeat was to lose her head during combat. Stay focused, stay calm – that’s the trick.

She gazed up at her opponent and let her body relax as she drew in a painful gasp of air. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to let her piston her body upward as though her legs were made of springs. The vampire’s head snapped backwards from the impact of her fist and when his eyes found hers again he was scowling in anger.

Tash didn’t care, being too busy following up with a flurry of kicks and punches – at least, that was the theory. Somehow the vampire met her onslaught with a boot to her stomach that sent her once more to her knees, once more gasping for air. This time he didn’t take time out to gloat, but was upon her in a flash. His knees squeezed against her ribs, pinning her to the cold, hard ground and he held her throat with a grimy hand.

Sweeping her arm up and around, Tash tried to break his hold, but his free hand grabbed her wrist and twisted it painfully until she grunted. Still she remained calm, refusing to give in to panic. She’d been in worse situations than this. She was a honed fighting machine, ready to bring final judgement to these damned creatures-

It wasn’t until his teeth pierced her throat that she whimpered. Her scientific moves degenerated to wild, pathetic struggles as the vampire lay across her body in an obscene parody of lovemaking. His mouth at her throat made disgusting sucking noises. Someone nearby was sobbing, and Tash wondered why they wouldn’t come help her – until she realised it was her voice making those mewling sounds.

*****

On the edge of his seat, Drew leaned forward. “Good God. How did you get away?”

Tash shifted in her seat, and finally stood and began to pace. “Well, I’m just coming to that. You see, I could feel myself weakening, could feel the darkness pressing on me but I knew if that happened I was lost…”

*****

Unconsciousness hovered at the edges of Tash’s mind, ready to claim her as its own, but she fought it with every last ounce of will she possessed. Her heart pounded in her ears, then gradually became fainter and fainter as the vampire continued to drink. She’d been bitten before, many times, but never had any vampire taken so much blood from her. Then, mercifully, he stopped. She struggled to focus on his face, hovering just above hers, then she struggled merely to breathe. It was growing hard to think, hard to stay awake…

For just a second she resisted when she realised what he was doing next, but almost all her will to resist had been drained from her already. At first the taste was nauseating, but then Tash felt nothing but a yearning need for the sustenance he provided her. She greedily drank from the scratch he’d made on his neck, ignoring the look of pure bliss that passed over the vampire’s features as she did so, a look that was mirrored on her own face.

All too soon he pulled her away from him. He laid her head on the gritty Los Angeles street and whispered, “Time to rest now, for a while. Sleep tight.”

*****

“And that’s all I remember until I woke up earlier tonight.”

Tash had pounced on Drew and held him pinned to the carpeted floor. As soon as he’d realised the implications of her story he’d tried to edge to the door, but she’d moved with preternatural speed and now sat on his chest holding him immobile.

“He’d put me in some crummy warehouse. You know, waking up like that is one hell of a shock. I mean, for a moment I thought I was dead.”

Drew’s eyes were wide. “But… Tash? You’re okay, right?” He tried to free himself from her grasp, but she continued to straddle him. “You’ve had your joke, okay?” he said, beginning to feel angry now. “And it wasn’t a very good one. Get off me.”

“Hmmmm… no. No, not yet. I’m not done yet.” Tash grinned down at him. “You see, he did kill me. Here I am, mighty warrior huntress. I’ve battled evils that would make your hair curl and survived, and what is it that brings me down? Some no-name vampire in a back alley.” She shrugged. “Still, there are compensations, right? I still have all Tash’s memories, I get this fine body which is now super-strong, and I have immortality too.”

Drew shook his head. “Sorry, I refuse to believe it. You look a little beat up, but then you often do. You sure as hell don’t look dead to me.”

“Look again.”

Drew blinked, silent for a moment, unable to take in what he was seeing. Tash’s face had changed. Her eyes gleamed yellow, her face was disfigured into a demonic mask, and when she opened her mouth two sharp fangs gleamed.

He screamed.

Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007

Submitted by Disposable_Hero on Wed, 03/02/2005 - 08:55.

Thursday 19th July,
2:45am
LA

Introducing Milla Jovovich as Robyn.

And starring Stephen Dorff as John Walker.

Kyle's lips were blue, his skin worryingly pale, and he was shaking all over uncontrollably in a foetal position up against the wall. His chains rattled. He was so cold now he had lost almost all coherent thought, not even Hayden's increasingly worried words were reaching him. Inside, his inner fire was nearly dead.

"O-o-o-k-k-k-ay." He stuttered around chattering teeth at last. "I-I-I-I'll t-t-t-ell y-y-yo-u."

Almost immediately, the cold began to diminish, but slowly. Kyle remained shaking as John opened the door, brought the chair back in, and sat down again. Hayden remained standing over him, his brow furrowed, but with nothing he could do.

"That's more like it." The vampire chirped. "Now. Cole Matthews. Alessandra Hunt. Chance. Where are they?"

It was some time before Kyle could stop shaking enough to speak, and even then his breathing came in gasps. "Chance, Chance is dead. Like, way before I came to LA. Cole's in England, left a while ago, probably ain't coming back. And Alessa's still kicking about, but she's...uhh...going through a hard time."

John frowned. "You're sure on all this? You wouldn't be...lying to me, would you?"

Kyle shook his head furiously. "No, I'm not. That's the truth, I'm certain.

"Well, that's all very convenient. My boss will be happy." John beamed, whilst Kyle was still too cold to remind him that Kyle knew who his boss was, so he didn't have to be subtle about it anymore. “But now, it appears your usefulness has ended. Besides, you know where the boss hangs out. And I can’t leave loose ends hanging, so you’re going to have to die. That’ll also make my boss very happy.”

The vampire stood up, pushing his chair backwards with his right leg, and drew a gun from the small of his back. This he aimed at Kyle, who could hear Hayden sharply intake his breath – even though he was technically dead and didn’t breathe – but his attention stayed drawn to the gun pointed at him. He saw with perfect clarity at utmost detail John’s finger as it tensed on the trigger.

There was a bang, but not quite the one Kyle was expecting. The door was so forcibly wrenched open that it was flung clear of its railings. So surprising was it that John flinched just as his finger pulled the tigger, and rather than blowing Kyle a new hole in his head, it instead hit the chain that was holding him to the wall, which freed Kyle, although admittedly still with a large chain attached to his wrist, and the other still fixed fast. Still, as soon as Kyle was somewhat free, he darted for the other chain and started pulling with all his strength.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see other figures entering the room, about half a dozen of them, all moving on John. His gun had been knocked clear of his hand, but he was still fighting hard against all six of his opponents hand-to-hand.

Kyle was focusing so intently on snapping his chain, that it was some time before he heard Hayden urgently calling his name. “Dude! DUDE!” The ghost was shouting until he caught Kyle’s attention. “The gun, you moron!”

The Kaoshian spun his head in the direction Hayden was indicating, and spied John’s fallen gun, just within arms reach. He made a dive for it whilst everybody was still fighting, then turned and aimed at the bolt joining his chain to the ring on the wall. Looking away, just catching sight of Hayden with his hands over his eyes, he cursed, then pulled the trigger.

The first shot missed, but on the second attempt Kyle was successful. Unfortunately, when he had pulled himself to his feet, and with two long chains still hanging from his wrists but no longer fastened to the wall, everybody else had noticed him.

A tall and slender woman with hair a shade of red approached him, her eyes deep in equally dark mascara. And armed to the teeth. She held up a finger, and her six accomplices drew their own guns and pointed them at Kyle.

“Drop it, yeah?” He asked.

“Yeah.” The woman replied. “It won’t do you much good, but it’ll sure as hell hurt.”

Kyle dropped the weapon and kicked it over to her. She ignored it; instead keeping her eyes riveted on him. One of them came over to her and whispered so that Kyle couldn’t hear. From the loook on her face, he assumed it wasn’t good news. That was all he needed. “So, you’re all vampires then, right?” He guessed at length.

“Oh, what gave it away?” Hayden asked from a corner.

The woman, vampiress, ignored him. “Kyle Ashton?”

“Yeah, that’s me. How’d you know?”

She nodded at the others and they lowered their weapons. “We have our ways. What was that vampire doing with you?”

“Where is good old John?”

“He got away.” She snapped. “And I’m the one asking the questions here.”

Kyle shrugged. “He was asking about some people that pissed his boss off a while back.” The vampiress swapped a glance with a male to her right and indicated for him to go on. “Then he was gonna kill me ‘cos he didn’t want to leave loose ends hanging…Oh, and because I know where his boss is these days.”

The two vampires swapped another, more urgent glance, then the woman spoke again. “Would his boss happen to be a vampire named Morris Giles?”

Kyle’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe.”

“Come with us.” She commanded, and moved to let Kyle walk out with them.

“Umm…no.”

The vampiress stepped up close to him. Had she been alive, he would have been able to feel her breath. “I don’t think you understand me properly. We just saved your worthless hide, Kaoshian, and need I remind you that I have five heavily armed vampires with me, who wouldn’t hesitate to kill you at just a word from me.

Kyle pondered over this for a second or two, looking across at Hayden who’s only answer was a shrug. “Right, so, where we going?”

“The house that Morris built. And you’re going to take us there.”

Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007

Submitted by Disposable_Hero on Wed, 03/02/2005 - 08:58.

Thursday 19th July,
3:26am
LA

Kyle reached up and rubbed his wrist, sore from the shackles, but recently freed. He had to admit, the vampiress’ strength was impressive. They were moving down a beaten side-ally in a rough area - it turned out the place John was holding him had not been far from Morris’ hideout - her on the left, her male lieutenant on the right, and the others spread out around Kyle. He looked across at the vampiress, noting the fluidity of her movements.

“So. You never answered my question. You’re all vampires, right?”

The male vampire growled, but the woman answered him. “What gave us away?”

Kyle shrugged. “Ehh, a lot of things. The superhuman strength, for a start, was a big clue. Plus the whole not-worried-about-guns thing really did it for you. Right here.” They walked round the corner and there was no reply. He decided it couldn’t hurt to go on. “I haven’t heard of vamps fighting vamps before. Whats up?”

“Normally you wouldn’t.” The vampiress replied. “But this is a special circumstance-“

“Robyn!” The male cut in. “We shouldn’t tell him too much.”

“He already knows most of it, Chad.” ‘Robyn’ replied. “We might as well fill in the blanks or he’ll become suspicious and…uncooperative.” Chad grunted but remained quiet. “As I was saying,” she went on, “this is a special circumstance. Morris betrayed my master and his accomplices, indeed he was crucial in the events that led to the ruin of their plans, and the loss of half their number. Here in this very city that happened, in fact. The survivors wish to make their revenge.”

“Right…left here.” Kyle said, and then was quiet for a moment, digesting what he had been told. He looked around, but Hayden had vanished, and for now remained unseen and unwilling to offer assistance. “So, who’s your master, Robyn?”

She smiled, and gave him an extremely coy look. “Now, that would be telling, wouldn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Kyle gave a lop-sided grin in return. “That’s why I asked.”

“Shut it, Kaoshian.” Chad grumbled. “How far is it?”

Kyle looked ahead, and saw Hayden waiting at the far end of the alley. “Actually, its just up there. Out of here and turn right. Big abandoned warehouse. Can’t miss it.” Chad moved off with the other four to take a closer look, leaving Robyn and Kyle behind. “So how come all high-and-mighty hasn’t shown up to do his own dirty work?” He asked her.

“Because he has us to do it for him. And he would rather not return to the place of his defeat.” She cocked her head as if just catching on to something and eyed Kyle closely. “Now I’ve been talking too much. Thank you for your help.”

“Like I had a choice.” Kyle grunted, and Robyn nodded her head in agreement.

“Still, there is no bad blood between us today. So I will let you walk free. Do not give me a reason not to, Kaoshian.” And with that she pushed passed him to join her fellow vampires.

“Wait!” Kyle called after her. “You’re going to take on Morris?” She nodded. “You do know he has a lot of heavily armed vampires in there.” She nodded again. “You’re going to need some help, I’m coming with you.”

Robyn smirked, sharing her smile with Chad. “Oh, we already have all the help we need.” The vampiress looked around, and Kyle followed her eyes. From the shadows of the rooftops, around the warehouse, and even from inside the alley Kyle was stood in more vampires stepped into view. “You see, there are more of us than you think. I don’t think your help is needed.”

Kyle walked up close to her. “Look, this John Walker guy has tried to kill me. Now I’m pissed, and I wanna get back at him. You understand that?”

“I do.” She answered, and wordlessly conferred with Chad. He shrugged, indicating something along the lines of ‘every man helps’. Robyn pulled out a stake and tossed it at Kyle. He grabbed it out of the air and slipped it into his belt at the small of his back. “Do what I say, and don’t kill any of us.” She gave him a wink. “Welcome to the team.”

Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007

Submitted by Disposable_Hero on Wed, 03/02/2005 - 09:02.

At the same time,
Morris' LA hideout.

“WHAT?!?” Morris roared, and all the aides clustered around the tables shrank back in fear. When he next spoke his voice was quieter, but far, far colder. “Say that again.”

John gulped, his eyes darting nervously from Morris to Roxana, to Hunter and then back to Morris again. “I-I was interrogating Kyle Ashton about those people you wanted info on.” Morris growled, telling John to skip that bit and cut straight to the chase. “Well…just before I was going to kill him, others burst in. Other vampires. I was forced to chose before fleeing and dying.”

“You should have chosen the latter.” Morris mumbled, resting his head in his hands upon the tabletop.

“But then I wouldn’t have been able to report-“ His sentence was cut off from a glare by Roxana, which told him Morris knew that full well. John kept his tongue.

“You know what this means, don’t you? That they’re on to us. Closer than we thought, too. And now they have in their possession somebody who knows where we are.” He straightened and glared at John, then looked around at each face. “We’ll have to advance our schedule.”

Roxana rested a slender hand on her lover’s shoulder. “Don’t you think its best that we evacuate as soon as possible? We don’t know how much time we have.”

“No,” Morris shook his head. “No, not now. Not when we’re so close. I won’t abandon all our progress to date. We should soon start expecting results.”

“But, love,” Roxana pleaded, “we may not even have a day. If they know where we are, they won’t hesitate to-“

“I said: NO!” Morris roared, throwing her hand off him. “We stay! Double our security! Call everybody back! From now one, nobody leaves unless it is absolutely necessary and only with my express permission, do I make myself clear?”

He was answered by a chorus of ‘yes, Morris’s and dismissed them – all except two; Roxana and Hunter. “Before you even think of saying or doing anything, Hunter, need I remind you that if you ever want to get your hands on the Eye, you will stay as well, and fight if necessary.”

Hunter nodded. " I know about that Morry old chap. " He said, not even flinching as Morris narrowed his eyes. He would stay and fight as long as necessary, since Morris was his key to finding the only thing that could bring back Emily. As long as he still needed Morris he would do whatever the bloody hell he wanted. "Do we know how many?"

Roxana answered for him. “If it is Valerian and Krispin, then you can bet they’ve sent a small army.”

“Quite right. The Brotherhood don’t do things by halves. And they would want to make sure I am dead without a doubt.” Morris rubbed his forehead, feeling exhaustion creep on. “Expect many. We may very well be here for a while, Hunter. Do you have anything to report? I am desperate for good news.”

Hunter thought for a few moments. Except for the meetings with Miss Hunt he didn’t have too much progress in his investigation. He showed no expression as he answered to Morris question. “Perhaps we should talk about this when we’re not soon to be under siege?”

For a split-second anger seemed to take Morris’ face, as if he was to lash out at Hunter, but then it was replaced with confusion and finally realisation. “Yes, yes of course, quite right...” he muttered before lapsing into silence and staring at nothing.

Roxana looked at him lovingly, but also worriedly and it was this latter look that she shared with Hunter. “My love, perhaps I should take a look at our defensive preparations?”

“What?” Morris’ head snapped around to her suddenly, like he had awoken from a long train of thought. “Defensive preparations? Oh, yes. Yes, good idea. I’d like your, ah, expert opinion, too.” He added with a glance to Hunter.

“We’ll get right on it.” Roxana replied, but Morris was already lost in thought again. With a last worried look she led Hunter away.

Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007

Submitted by Heather on Wed, 03/02/2005 - 09:37.

Saturday, 21st July 2007 – 10:10pm

Daye slowly stepped out of the elevator onto Drew’s floor and took a deep, steadying breath. She’d spent the whole day wrestling with the questions they’d put to one another earlier and now here she was. Marcus and her feelings for him were better left buried. She knew that nothing good could ever come of their relationship. He was far too emotionally stunted to ever be able to carry on a normal love affair, and Daye herself was too easily led by her heart. Being with someone like Marcus Dalton would only cause her heartache and end in disaster. Besides, Drew was her husband. She’d made vows to him and, for better or for worse, she intended to keep those vows. So, here she was. She’d come to tell Drew that she was ready and willing to try and start again, assuming he was as well. If he wasn’t, well at least she’d tried and could begin to attempt to figure out what to do with the rest of her life.

Daye moved down the hallway, not hurrying but not hesitating. Suddenly, the silence was broken by a terrified scream. Whoever had made the sound was obviously male, but Daye couldn’t have said for sure if she knew the person or not. She just knew that there was a possibility that it was Drew and that was more than enough for her. Daye broke into a run, her mind filled with horrible what ifs and her mouth moving in silent prayer to the Goddess and whoever else might be listening. When she came to Drew’s door she didn’t even hesitate, she cast her hand out and shouted in Latin and the lock shattered. The door swung open and she ran into the room.

Hearing the pounding footsteps, Tash barely had time to formulate her story before the door burst open. With her features now restored she remained where she was, kneeling over Drew’s still-bleeding body but now she worked as though she were trying to staunch the flow. She looked up with wild eyes and let a look of both horror and sadness cross her features as she beheld Daye. Inwardly, she couldn’t help but think how perfect this was. What a sorry tableau for Daye to stumble upon. If only Tash had known who was coming, she might have arranged something slightly more compromising for Daye to find.

Still, the scene must be traumatic enough for the woman. Her husband was lying in a pool of blood, his throat ripped out as though by a wild beast. Blood covered Tash’s face, arms and chest from where she’d apparently been desperately trying to revive him. But even as Tash’s eyes met Daye’s, Drew let out a painful, gurgling gasp and was still.

“No!” Tash cried and turned back to her charge, her hands futilely trying to cover the gaping wound in his throat. “No…”

Eyes brimming with tears, she looked up once more with horror at Daye. “I couldn’t stop it. God, I couldn’t stop it. It was so fast…”

“What?” Daye stood stock still where she’d come to a stop moments before. Her mind wouldn’t process, couldn’t process what she was seeing. This couldn’t be real. It just couldn’t.

“Drew?” Daye’s voice was a choked whisper. She glanced from the blood spilling onto Tash’s hands to Drew’s colourless face and back again. Suddenly she moved, lightning quick. She dropped to the floor beside Drew, pushing Tash violently aside. She touched the wound that had once been his throat with her bare hands and although she felt no warmth, no flare of life, still Daye tried. Latin words flowed rapidly from her mouth and her hands were engulfed in bright, healing light. She poured it all out, all the love she held for this man, now and in the past, and all the power she had inside herself. The light grew, stronger than any healing she’d ever attempted, stronger than any she’d ever thought herself capable of. Daye hoped. She prayed. The light surrounded Drew’s body, but there was no change.

“Not enough,” Daye’s voice grew hoarse as she continued to struggle to heal the impossible to heal. “It’s not enough. I’m not strong enough.”

Daye turned her face to Tash, her eyes shimmering with tears. “Please, Tash, not again. It’s never enough. I’m never strong enough.”

From where she sat after Daye’s abrupt shove, Tash watched Daye’s struggle to revive her dead husband with immense satisfaction. The fresh, hot blood that coursed through her was heady enough, but this – this raw agony she was privy to was like the most exquisite dessert after a sumptuous feast. The feeling was almost sexual in its intensity and Tash fought to regain control of her face before Daye turned to her once more. Another advantage of Daye’s distress – she wasn’t paying the best of attention to anything else but her own grief right now.

Tash shook her head sadly. “And I wasn’t fast enough. I tried to stop it, but it was just so fast – and then it was gone, as though it were nothing but smoke. Maybe if you’d been here, with your magic…”

It was tempting to lure Daye closer right now, but death had done little to diminish Tash’s psychic talents, and the emotions surging from Daye were almost a meal in themselves. She couldn’t resist trying to add another layer of guilt over the melange.

Closing her eyes, Tash continued. “Look, it might be too painful to hear right now, but if you want to find this thing we may have to move fast. I couldn’t do anything to it, but someone like you, someone with magic, might be able to. He… Drew… it was because he…”

Letting the words tumble out of her mouth, Tash blurted, “He was trying to learn how to do magic. He wanted to understand you better. I warned him it might be dangerous, but he was so desperate to do anything to get you back… Something backfired. This… thing appeared out of nowhere. It ignored me, went right for Drew and then it just… disappeared.”

Moving closer to Daye, Tash put an arm about her shoulder. “I’m sorry. He just wanted to make you happy. It was all he ever wanted.”

Daye stared at Tash in stunned silence. *Magic?* she thought. *But he wasn’t... he didn’t... his mother maybe once, but he...* Daye turned her face back towards Drew, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. She reached out gently and touched his cheek which was already growing cold. Daye shook her head, wanting so much to deny the truth her of her senses. “This can’t be happening,” she said softly. “It can’t. We... I came to... No, Tash, no...”

“Sshh, let it all out.” Tash enfolded Daye in a warm embrace, pulling her friend’s head down to her shoulder to cradle it comfortingly. She continued murmuring quietly in Daye’s ear. “He was a good friend, and I’ll miss him. But he died loving you. That has to count for something.”

Daye didn’t want to let go at first. She didn’t want to cry. Crying would mean that it was real, that she accepted this awful thing as truth. How could she do that? As Tash held her, she tried to resist the comfort being offered. She tried to continue to deny the reality written in blood on her own hands.

Finally, though, it was all too much. She cried. Her heart broken, her mind reeling, she cried for Drew, and for herself. This man had loved her in a way no other person had ever dared to, and because of that love he was dead. Tash asked if his love didn’t count for something. Daye knew what it counted for. She could feel the weight of it in every breath she took. She would never be free of that weight. Until the day she died, Daye would know that her love had been poison to Drew. It had hurt him, burned him, and now, finally, ultimately, killed him.

Tash let Daye cry for a moment, savouring the gourmet serving of guilt she was receiving. She gently brushed Daye’s lustrous red hair back, exposing the soft white flesh of her neck. Then Tash straightened slightly. She gripped Daye tightly as her face changed, and with a snarl she sank her fangs deeply into that most delectable of fruits.

Daye stiffened in horror at the searing pain ripping through her as Tash tore into her throat. She struggled, using every bit of strength she had, coupled with the training she’d received at the hands of this woman and managed, just barely, to shove Tash away. Daye’s hand flew to her throat and she pulled it back to reveal her own blood, bright red, against her palm. She glanced down again at Drew with his throat torn apart and knew.

Daye turned towards Tash, or rather the demon Tash had become. She shook her head slowly, but backed away. “No. Tash... What the hell...? How...?” Daye watched Tash approach and knew that she didn’t have time to deny what she was seeing. “You, you killed Drew. Oh Goddess, you’re a... oh no...”

Tash stalked towards Daye, her yellow eyes gleaming. Daye’s fresh blood mixed with Drew’s on her face now, and Tash swirled her long tongue around her lips. Her voice coiled out, sultry and seductive.

“Oh Daye, don’t be such a prude. You weren’t a prude last month, if I recall. Come on, it won’t hurt for long.” Tash dropped her voice to a whisper. “You can join him forever. All that guilt will just disappear. You won’t have to remember any more how you fucked another man senseless the night before you married Drew. You won’t have to live with the guilt that’s wrapped up inside you.”

“Oh, Tash,” Daye’s voice was full of grief. “I’m so sorry.” Daye raised her hands in a protective gesture as she began to chant in Latin, hoping to bind the vampire before her. She couldn’t imagine lashing out with a destructive force, even now after what Tash had done to Drew and what she’d tried to do to her. This was still one of her best friends.

Tash’s vampire face grew even more demonic in her anger. Her eyes flashed as she spat, “Fucking bitch, don’t be trying that shit on me.”

Lashing out, Tash’s clawed nails left deep scratches in Daye’s arm, but Daye didn’t falter in her chanting. Muttering a string of invective, Tash suddenly turned and dove through the open window of the hotel suite before the cloying tendrils of magic finished wrapping around her. Three storeys later, Tash rolled to her feet and gazed upward at the hotel. When Daye’s anxious face appeared at Drew’s window, Tash gave her the finger.

“Missed me,” she sang. “Maybe next time, my dear old friend. But hey, don’t worry. Sure, Drew’s dead but you can always go cry on Marcus’ shoulder. At least it won’t be mine for a change.”

She turned and scampered away, calling over her shoulder, “And say hi to Onyx for me…”

Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007

Submitted by Kieran on Wed, 03/02/2005 - 20:50.

Friday, July 20
Berlin 14:33 EST

“Right here in front of everybody. Jesus, Oliver. In broad daylight. Kids, grannies. They all witnessed this. There’s enough blood here for the Heart Centre,” the detective said almost amusingly.

“And only from one guy,” observed his partner, looking out the train window. He bent down to examine the blood patterns; an attempt to deduce the killer’s mechanics. After all, Berlin wasn’t immune to psychos. But this one, this one wasn’t reduced to a cliché. He was, dare Oliver think it, an artist in his own world. The blood was splattered neatly like a butterfly. It wasn't all over the place like usual.

“I’ll start with the witnesses.”

“Fine. I’ll check the cameras.” Oliver got up and went to the electrical compartment meanwhile dialing his phone. “Lothar. Ollie. I need a file from the Scotland Yard’s database. July ’95. It’s an unknown, file number two-thousand something. Try to scan other databases with the same month and year. Murder scenes should be on a train, male victim. Have them on my desk as soon as possible. Danke.”

Oliver Ballack was still a new face in the Berlin Polizei. Four weeks and twelve days to be exact and still just another face. His partner, Franz Klinsmann, did all the talking at the office. Oliver preferred it that way. Low-key was his approach. Rarely went out with the others. The less words said the better. Franz was a thirty-six year veteran on the force, stumbling each and every step through. However, on scenes like today, he still acts like any rookie would.

“Anything,” Franz asked, looking up as he jot down an account from one of the few passengers who hadn’t fled after the train stopped.

“Nothing. Guy did it in front of everybody. Quick. As soon as everybody realized what happened, he was already gone.”

“This broad didn’t see much. She claims she saw a man. So we’re right on the sex.” He turned his attention back to the witness.

“I’m gonna see what Mike found out about the body.”

“What’s to find out? The sick fuck slashed the guy’s throat. Whatever. You can go be like those Amerikaner CSI’s. This is real life Oliver. Maybe you’ll finally wash those hands of yours.” Oliver laughed at the comment directed at his phobia of washing hands in public. “Oh, wait! I forgot, you don’t have a heart.”

Oliver let out a little half-crooked smile and left Franz to the woman craving attention. He got into his car and checked his voice mail. Good a time as any since rush hour was beginning. Nothing. He didn’t mind the traffic so much these days. It allowed him to reflect on the past few years. Was he doing the right thing? No matter how much he put himself into his work, that life-old question clouded him like a rainy day.
The precinct was located on the corner of the financial district, the heart of downtown Berlin. Home to three and a half million busy citizens. It was easy to get lost here. Work, finish, get drunk at the pub with friends or coworkers and call it a day.

Oliver walked up the large stone steps, scanned his hand and made his way to the glass elevator. The precinct was in a historical site, but now its a modern wonder. Courtesy of the 2005 Tick-Tock Bombings. In a world of high security, Berlin was the victim of a siege of old-fashioned time bombs made famous in heist movies. The bomber was caught rather easily, but his point was just to make a mockery out of one of the EU’s major arteries.

Ding! Pathology was located on the 21st floor. Occupied by dozens of corpses and one man, pathologist Michael Springs. “Ollie Ballack, the man in Prada. Always a pleasure. Here’s something quite interesting.” He motioned Oliver over with his fingers. “Three slashes. Here. Here, and here. Carotid artery, internal and external jugular veins. Very smooth cuts, almost as if he knew how the blood would spill out and painted with it.” Ballack didn’t react. “But of course, he already knew this.” To which he smiled and covered up the body. “Have fun!”

“Thanks.”

After a few hours of paperwork, Oliver received an express package. “Hey Ollie, what’d you get?” asked Franz, bored out of his mind from transcribing fruitless witness accounts.

“Just some package I’ve been expecting. I’m gonna head home.”

“Have a good one.”

Oliver left with the package in hand. His loft was a fifteen-minute walk away by foot. The complex was fortunate not to have been chosen as a target by the Tick Tock bomber. Sitting at the peak of the 15-storey complex was a spacious enough area to hold a sizable private car collection. However, cars weren’t found here.

After stepping out of the elevator, Oliver peeled off a fibre-glass hand-shaped sheet from the palms of his hand and threw them in a disposal unit near the back of the room. He went to the bathroom and washed his hands. ** Guess you’re around here now Jack. ** Washing his hands usually took a while. The stickiness of the resin always took long to scrub off.

Moments like this didn’t even get a sigh from Ollie. He sat down on a black leather couch and spilled open the contents of the package on the parquet-covered floor. He smiled. Lothar assembled quite the package. The Scotland Yard file was there, as were six others, all dated July from `96 to 2002. ** Seven. One today. Eight. ** Each victim was a male aged 30 to 35. Successful. Rode the train. Slash wounds to the carotid and jugular areas as expected, although, not every victim had the same number of slashes. Some had two, others three, two had one – a wide slash it seemed from the photos. These murders spanned from Belfast to Prague. Major cities. ** He’s an attention grabber, this one. ** Yet, newspapers hadn’t pieced together a possible connection.

He continued studying the files until the power went out. His watch read 22:17. Oliver stretched out his body and closed his eyes.

BZZZZ! BZZZZ! BZZZZ! Oliver’s eyes slightly opened and looked around. He looked at his watch – 23:41. BZZZZZZZZZZZZ! The intercom. He approached the floor’s entrance and saw on the surveillance system that it was Franz downstairs. He was holding his arm and leaning on the door. Pushing a button, “Franz?”

“Ollie, let me up.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Ollie, a gunman started shooting in Ralf’s. I saw his partners flee…unnh…chased him, shot him. Son of a bitch shot me…”

Ollie came down in a hurry. “Where’d you get hit?”

“Son of a bitch got me in the arm. It’s a flesh wound, won’t be bad. We need to get to the precinct. He’s got himself wired up and threatening to kill more unless we give into his demands. Need some protection.” Oliver hesitated a bit. “Come on!” Franz pulled his arm.

Ollie looked around, “Did you bring down the others?”

“I just fired, no idea if they were hit.”

They started running towards the precinct. ** Christ! ** Ollie thought to himself. Despite Franz’s girth, he was able to keep up the pace. They got to the precinct. CRACK! Franz limped to the ground, pulling Ollie with him. “Franz!” He stared at his partner holding his own shoulder, blood trickled quickly through the cracks between his fingers. Franz had been shot in the shoulder.

Panting, Oliver raised his head to look around and saw two individuals quickly approaching the steps. He grabbed Franz and made his way into the precinct’s lobby. “Officer down! Officer down!”

He plodded along to the door. Franz wasn’t moving. He had to get through the door. The gunmen would get to them before the cops. Franz looked at him. His face was pale. Oliver put his hand to the scanner. A red light blinked. The panels didn’t slide open. He scanned his hand again. Still no passing. The gunmen entered the lobby, shotguns locked and stocked. The security guard behind the panels fumbled to manually override the locked panels.

A gunman already had his finger on the trigger. A siren pierced the tense atmosphere. It wailed beyond everybody’s threshold. Just what Oliver needed. He grabbed Franz’s gun from his holster and shot both gunmen. One fell instantly, bullet between the eyes. Another staggered to regain his balance after getting hit in the neck. Ollie bolted up and knocked his shotgun away lest he takes a shot. He wasted a second to regain his composure. The panel doors slid open. “Sir, are you alright?” asked the nervous security guard glancing between the fallen gunmen, the injured officer and the cop without a valid security clearance standing at the lobby.

Ollie nodded his head and escaped.

22:59 – MI:6, London, England

Beep! Beep! A data analyst looked away from the screen he was working on to the one blinking. Somebody finally popped up.

22:59 – Belfast, Northern Ireland

The telephone rang. Inspector David Keane put his newspaper down and answered. “Hello.”

“Sir, he just popped up.”

calling for help

Submitted by Firefly on Fri, 03/04/2005 - 17:08.

*** Saturday, July 21, 2007, around 11 pm ***

Daye stared out into the darkness without moving. It was all too much. How could any of this be real? If she closed her eyes, could she just make it all go away?

“Please, please, Goddess, please,” she whispered into the night, her eyes clenched tight for a moment. Daye slowly opened them again and bit back a sob. It didn’t go away. It wouldn’t go away. This was real. It was all real.

Daye turned away from the empty street and looked back into the once tastefully decorated hotel room. She cringed at the sight of blood splattered on the carpet, tracked from one end of the room to the other. In the epicenter of this carnage, the result of an overenthusiastic first time feeding, Daye let her eyes take in the lifeless body of her husband. The need to scream or cry, or even laugh, the hysteria bubbled in her belly and clawed at the back of her throat. She wanted to sink into the oblivion that madness would provide. That darkness beckoned and Daye nearly gave into the siren call, but she could still hear Tash’s taunts echoing in her ears, and she realized that no one else knew. She couldn’t give in here, because if she did others she cared about might end up like Drew. Daye couldn’t bear the weight of this, so how could she possibly let it happen to anyone else.

Daye moved across the room towards Drew. She crouched down next to him and brushed the dark curls from his blood dampened forehead. She shuddered at the chill already stealing over his skin.

“My love…I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so, so sorry. This should never have happened. Goddess…this is so wrong.”

Daye stood and moved towards the bar, taking the telephone receiver in her hand, unaware that she was leaving a perfect imprint of her hand on the cool white plastic in her husband’s blood. She dialed with shaky hands and then bit her lip as she waited for someone on the other end of the phone to pick up.

Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007

Submitted by CryingKnight on Sat, 03/05/2005 - 17:25.

Los Angeles
The Bevely Hills Peninsula Hotel
5:32pm Tuesday 17th July , 2007

The office of Marcus’ suite was strewn with paper. Every sheet was covered with Marcus precise neat handwriting. He ripped another page out of his notebook and then looked at the irregular pink quartz that Onyx had stored Tash’s memories in. Marcus grimaced, that entire conversation with Onyx hadn’t gone well

2:17am Thursday 5th July, 2007

“Marcus?” Onyx hadn’t reapplied her disguise yet and the sound of his name seemed incongruous to Marcus coming from those insectile mandibles

“It went well?” Marcus eyes ran over Onyx’s carapace he could see no damage.

Onyx cocked her head for a moment. “He’s dead.” She replied shortly her tone more brusque than Marcus expected. “However we need to discuss something else. Knox was prepared. Had he been less arrogant about it he possibly would have succeeded.”

With obvious concern Marcus reappraised Onyx’s matt black shell but he could still see no problems “You’re not injured?”

“No, however I could have been. This mission put me at risk.” Onyx carried on, ignoring the sudden puzzlement on Marcus face. “Yes I know I’m not supposed to care about that but I do. I’ve served your family faithfully for half a millennia Marcus. Have you ever wondered why?”

He shook his head. The exact details of Selwyn Dalton’s bargain with Onyx were a mystery to the family, had been since the seventeen hundreds. Onyx had told him some details but he’d always suspected there were more.

“I’m owed one single request. The Daltons must meet the terms of the request or the bargain is sundered. I am the last of my kind. The knowledge required for me to reproduce was lost when the Queen of my Hive was destroyed. Killed. I would have you bring that knowledge back to me. Raise the queen, force her to give me the knowledge I seek.”

Marcus blinked back shock momentarily at a loss. *Reproduce?* Onyx’s status as the last of known member of her species was well known to him He hadn’t realised she was determined to reverse that fact. “Why now?” He asked unable to devise a more meaningful question.

“You have sufficient power for the task and I’ve acquired access to hopefully the requisite knowledge.” Onyx gestured and an irregular pink crystal popped in existence. She set it down on Marcus’ desk and in it’s depths lightning seemed to flicker.

Marcus stared at those miniature bolts for still more time trying to gather his scattered wits.

“It can’t just be power, there’ve been more capable necromancers in the family than me.”

Onyx nodded her head acknowledging Marcus point. “More capable perhaps but they lacked your…temperament or potential.”

“Temperament. “ His expression. “You mean I’m likely to meet this obligation.” Marcus gave his ‘servitor’ a hard stare Onyx had made very certain during his upbringing to impress on him the necessity of paying his debts

“I understand your requirement for power. A queen of demons is likely to be difficult to raise in a controllable fashion but why would it require specialist knowledge.”

“She is not on this plane and travelling to her resting place would be…unwise.”

Onyx’s flat tone grated on Marcus nerves. “You want me to reach across planar boundaries and draw the spirit of a demon queen to me… Then force it to my bidding?”

“Yes”

Marcus’ mind whirled. It was insane, impossible. It would take a…

“No… absolutely not.”

“Your must. It is your debt.”

“You would have me kill for this.”

The tilt of the mandibles that Marcus took for a smile appeared on Onyx’s ‘face’ “I have killed for you.”

Marcus sucked in a breath. No his hands were by no means clean. He had killed a man to guarantee Onyx’s obedience when he’d had Garland committed for that matter he’d sacrificed a soul to the Great Divide when he’d helped rescue Daye.

Daye… He’d rescued her for no more than a promise and had invoked some of the darkest magic imaginable did Onyx deserve any less? For centuries of service. The only parent Marcus had ever known was asking him to repay his debts and he was balking at the magnitude of power required.

“Alright. I’m not comfortable with such methods. Perhaps I can find another means.” Marcus regarded his servitor for a moment. This conversation had started because Knox had come close to killing Onyx. “No more assassinations I take it?”

The ‘smile’ became more intense. “Now I’ve made the request I have discretion until you complete payment. So no, no assassinations. There are other options regarding that though.”

Marcus nodded decisively “Yes, I’ll need you to contact Turaka. Let them know the targets.” He raised his hand and rubbed his forehead in thought. “I definitely can’t raise sufficient force to do something like this alone but there are ways other than sacrifice. We still need to finish with the Dalton building too. Daye clearly isn’t going to assist with that.”

“Perhaps an out of town practitioner?”

“No, that only solves the immediate problem. If I’m to take L.A. I’ll need more magical resources. Especially considering the Foundation’s connections. A circle. Thirteen if we can find them. Malleable…”

“Of course.” Onyx interjected

Marcus was in full flow now, rearranging his plans to take into account Onyx’s revelation. “We’ll need to bring the rest of the library from Hong Kong, I’ll need to research I’ve no idea where to even begin with this.”

Onyx pushed forward the quartz. “As I said this hopefully should have the required knowledge.”

He hadn’t forgotten the crystal precisely merely excluded it from his thoughts. Onyx obviously thought it was the solution to various problems and considering her own knowledge of necromancy he had to wonder what it was. No, he didn’t wonder exactly more suspected and wished he could discount the suspicion.

Staring into the depths of the crystal Marcus shook himself. “Is that what I think it is?”

“The accumulated knowledge of the necromancer Ohenewa taken from Tash’s mind? Yes. Five centuries of experience. A quite remarkable resource.”

Having his suspicion’s confirmed so candidly released a series of ugly possibilities. Onyx had manipulated his entire family. He was absolutely sure that Onyx had encouraged certain personality traits to her own ends but even knowing that he couldn’t free himself of that sense of obligation. What had she done when presented with the possibility of such a prize?

“Did she really fall in love with you?”

“It was love, though admittedly it would have been unlikely to occur without a certain amount of intervention.”

“You made her love you? So you could get this?”

“Yes.”

“And now you want me to use it to figure out how to bring back you hive queen.”

“Yes.”

“You metaphysically rape an acquaintance of mine and then want me to become an accessory after the fact by using the fruits of your crime?” Marcus took a deep breath. “No absolutely not. Have the library brought from Hong Kong. In fact, bring everything including the Vault. I’m uncomfortable with them remaining there for so long. And get that,” Marcus gestured sharply at the crystal, “out of my sight”

Onyx nodded acquiescing to her master’s demands. The store of Ohenewa’s knowledge vanished back to where it came and she rose, her motions still strangely smooth and left the room to attend to her duties.

It had been a day or two before the crystal had appeared on his desk keeping his Orb of Thessala company, a not so subtle reminder and a temptation all in one. The worst of it was that Marcus kept running into brick walls. Even assuming he was willing to kill to gather the requisite force to draw Onyx’s hive queen’s sprit to this plane he couldn’t work out how to do it without invoking massive risks and the Divide around Los Angeles was already fragile due to his previous spells.

Perhaps there was something in the family library and he had other questions too, for the vault. That was another risk though and it would take time and more time for everything to arrive and though Onyx had shown no signs of impatiencshe would not wait forever Marcus was sure. He frowned yet again and returned to his notes.

Past Lives Pt.1 - Secrets & Lies

Submitted by Meredith Bell on Sun, 03/06/2005 - 10:01.

PAST LIVES - PART 1
SECRETS & LIES

Quote:

Vengeance comes not slowly either upon you or any other wicked man, but steals silently and imperceptibly, placing its foot on the bad.
– Euripides

Bar Rumba, Pasadena – Los Angeles
Thursday, 19th July 2007
9:32pm

Reintroducing Alex Kingston as Marianne and Marc Anthony as Officer Tony Green

The bar was noisy, full of Latino music and raised voices as people struggled to be heard above the din. Kate and Marianne had selected a table in the middle, not too far from the bar but with a good view of the dance floor where a bunch of youthful twenty-something’s took full advantage of energetic salsa music, raucously gyrating and winding their bodies in a sensuous display of debauchery.

“Good… Gaia…” commented Marianne as her eyes lazily observed a young Latino male, his cut-away shirt perfectly displaying his exquisitely toned body as he twisted and weaved his way around an equally attractive Señorita.

Marianne sipped the last of her mint julep through a straw as she continued to appreciate the young man’s moves. It was her birthday today (though she staunchly refused to tell anyone how old she was) and Kate had insisted on taking her out for drinks after work at one of the hottest new bars in town. Marianne could understand why Bar Rumba was receiving such rave reviews, the atmosphere was electric, the drinks were moderately priced and there seemed to be a virtual plethora of hot talent on view.

“Some girls have all the luck hmmm?” she said, turning to face her friend as she returned from the bar with fresh drinks.

Kate glanced up at the dance floor as she set the glasses down on the table. The unrestrained and extravagant scene reminded her of the party Gerald had thrown during her last visit at Sindell Hall, all wild excess and half-naked flesh. Kate squinted slightly as she searched the crowds, looking for the object of Marianne’s eager endorsement.

“The… Italian stallion with the dog tags?”

Marianne stuck out her tongue in distaste. “What am I teaching you? Thank-Gaia you’re married that’s all I can say!” rising from her stool, she directed Kate’s head towards the Spanish youth that had caught her eye. “Now that’s what I call a fine figure of a man!”

Kate shook her head. “Too many muscles,” she objected whilst sitting down and taking a drink from her Long Island iced tea.

“How is that even possible?”

“I just like my men more… natural. That’s all.”

“Oh honey…” chuckled Marianne, “that is all natural.” She sighed in appreciation, “I’ll bet he has thighs that could crack a walnut.”

Kate giggled, her cheeks reddened slightly at her friend’s outrageous behaviour. “Are you entirely shameless?” she laughed as Marianne waved at the young man and gave him a flirtatious wink before sinking down onto her chair.

“No, but I know how to have a good time,” said Marianne with a grin, “and from the look of him a good time would be had by all. And don’t you pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about Ms. Catherine…” teased Marianne, waggling her finger at her friend in mock chastisement. “I’ve known you too long for you to act the shrinking violet around me.”

“Just because I have more important things to think about than where my next shag is coming from…”

“You’re married! You know where it’s coming from!” declared Marianne, a broad smile erupting across her face. “And if that schoolgirl grin you’ve been wearing since the two of you came back from Catalina is anything to go by…”

Kate opened her mouth to retaliate and then fell silent, casting her friend a mindful glare before picking up her cocktail glass, the smallest beginnings of a smile curling the corners of her lips as she took a sip. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh really? Well, lets examine the evidence shall we?” Marianne teased, counting off each point on her fingers. “Idiotic grinning for no reason, humming romantic love songs while doing the books, buying sexy lingerie from Passionata… I’m no fool you know? You’ve been giving off that whole ‘just had a damn good seeing to’ vibe all week!”

Kate almost choked on a mouthful of Long Island iced tea. “Hey! I have not been giving off any such vibe!”

“Oh you so have and don’t try to deny it, insight isn’t just for you telepaths you know?” grinned Marianne, proudly brushing her bouncy curls back from her face. “So… since we’re on the subject, when are you gonna tell me about Galen? We’ve done the whole ‘when, where and how’ now tell me the good stuff…” she leaned in closer, lacing her fingers together with interest. “How’s he in bed?”

“I am not answering that,” Kate laughed, furiously trying to fight back the broad grin that slowly spread across her face.

“Your silence speaks volumes,” grinned Marianne, her eyes growing wide with delight. “So… that good huh? Wow… it’s always the quiet ones don’t you think? They stand around like butter wouldn’t melt in their mouths but you get them in the bedroom and it’s a non-stop train to Orgasm-Town

“Marianne!” squealed Kate frantically, pushing the other woman lightly on the arm. “You really haven’t changed a bit since we were teenagers have you?”

“Why should I? Age is relative after all…”

“That’s certainly a convenient attitude to adopt considering it’s your birthday today…” smirked Kate, raising her glass. “Let’s see… when I was 17 you were 23 so that would make you...”

“You do realise that if you finish that sentence I will have to kill you?” Marianne laughed, picking up her drink and waving her free hand giddily in the air. “Okay, okay, here’s to… being another year older,” she grimaced, rolling her eyes, “definitely NOT any wiser but a hell of a lot more determined to live life to the full!” The two women erupted into giggles again as they clinked their glasses together in agreement.

“Hey! Mary baby!”

Marianne and Kate both paused, their glasses suspended in mid-air as they turned on their stools in the direction of the voice. Doing so, the crowds seemed to part, allowing a rather scruffy looking man to saunter up to their table. He was mildly attractive - in an ageing rockstar kind of way – tall and lean with long raven-black hair and a coating of rough facial stubble. As he approached the table he pulled off his sunglasses revealing a pair of bright emerald eyes and flashed them both a brilliant white grin.

“Mitchell! Darling!” exclaimed Marianne, sliding off her chair and throwing her arms around his neck, pulling him close before engaging him in a long, seductive kiss. “Not that I’m not pleased to see you but what are you doing here?” she asked as she drew back, running her hands across the soft leather of his jacket.

Mitchell grinned as he disentangled himself from Marianne but kept one leather-clad arm draped across her shoulders. “Well I couldn’t not see my favourite girl on her birthday now could I?” he smiled, turning to face Kate. “And you must be Mary’s… what’s the term? Sister?” he chuckled lightly as he sat down on the stool next to Marianne.

“I think I should be saying my… what is it Mary? Blessed Be’s? Lord knows there must be someone to thank for creating two easy on the eye girls like the both of you.”

Marianne smiled madly like a giddy debutante, her eyes affectionately appraising her man before she turned back towards Kate. “Mitch this is Kate, Kate… this is Mitch. The guy I was telling you about the other week? The one in the band?”

“I think I’d managed to work that out,” smiled Kate, replacing her glass on the table and extending her hand towards Mitch. “It’s nice to finally meet you, and thanks for those tickets you managed to score for me, my husband was over the moon…”

“Woah!” exclaimed Mitch suddenly; swaying back on his chair as though bowled over by the words coming out of her mouth. “Love the accent. Do you have representation, because…” he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small white business card. “I’m telling you now you should be in the movies, pretty gal like you and with the accent and everything?” He raised his hands up in front of his eyes, mimicking a camera lens.

“Seriously. The camera loves you baby! The hair… the face… the bod… Can you sing?”

“Sing?” echoed Kate with a cynical jerk of her left eyebrow. She had to muster all her control not to laugh considering the events of earlier that week. “I’m… trying to give it up.”

“Shame,” mumbled Mitch, sliding the card across the table towards her. “If you change your mind… just give me a call, I know some people who know some people,” he winked at her and grinned. “I could have you presenting the weather faster than a fat man filling his plate at a doughnut buffet.”

“Um…” Kate looked towards her friend, a confused frown on her face, “thanks?”

“Don’t worry,” whispered Marianne, giggling as Mitch whispered things into her ear, his breath tickling the back of her neck. “I think he did one too many coke lines in the nineties…”

Removing himself from Marianne’s throat, Mitch grinned sheepishly. “I was just telling Mary baby, there’s this totally hot party going down…

“Some of Mitch’s friends,” explained Marianne quickly, “it sounds like a ball… if you’re up for it?”

“Oh yeah, you’re absolutely welcome to come too, in fact I insist.” Mitch grinned at Marianne, “the more honeys I bring the better.”

“Oh… no…” said Kate hastily, “really, thanks but it’s been a hectic week and I’m kind of tired. But please-“ she added quickly, “you two go, have fun.”

Marianne looked from her boyfriend to Kate, grimacing slightly. “No… no… I’ll stay with you, it was supposed to be just the two of us – girls night out-“

“-Marianne, I mean it,” insisted Kate with a smile, “I really do feel tired, you may as well go to the party and enjoy yourself. It is your birthday after all.”

“Well… if you’re sure…”

“I’m certain,” said Kate with an air of finality. “Go… have a great time, and tell me all about it on Monday,” she added with a wry grin.

“I will,” smiled Marianne as she slipped off her stool and kissed Kate on the cheek. “You take care getting home. Maybe you and Galen can relieve those nights in Catalina?” she added with a wink. “Give him a big kiss from me – that’s an order!”

Kate smiled, watching Marianne and Mitchell become lost in the crowds before turning back to observe the people on the dance floor again. She stirred her drink with her index finger, before sucking the liquor clean. She held her head in her hand, suddenly realising that she actually was tired despite the fact that all her insisting had just been an excuse – she really didn’t think she could cope with a whole party full of Mitch’s friends – no matter how endearing Marianne found them.

****

A young man shifted in his seat, adjusting his sunglasses as he quietly observed the redhead from a distance, his dark clothing merging seamlessly with the shadowy corner of the bar that he occupied. He leaned back in his chair and inhaled deeply on his cigarette, his breath a cloud of grey smoke that seemed almost blue in the already filmy atmosphere.

Letting his eyes roam the crowded room he noticed a small group of men stood by the bar. Their loud comments and leery remarks filtered out from the rest; one of the men clearly had his eye on the redhead too. His gaze kept flickering over to where she sat, giving her a long, slow appraisal from head to toe.

All the signs pointed to him being a complete jerk, he was your typical LA lawyer asshole – all expensive Armani suits and too many tequila shots. The girl – the redhead – she wouldn’t look at him twice, he wasn’t her type by any stretch of the imagination. The best he could hope for was if she allowed him to buy her a drink and suffer his arrogant boasting long enough to let him make a move that she would doubtless refuse.

Suddenly an idea sparked in his mind…

He pulled out a wad of twenty-dollar bills from the back pocket of his pants and walked over to the group of men, singling the asshole out from the crowd. His eyes returned to the young red-haired woman as he held out the money. “I have a proposition I think you might be interested in…”

****

Kate sighed heavily, blowing a strand of hair from her eyes in the process.

She was bored… people watching wasn’t any fun when you were on your own. She looked at her watch and smiled, Galen was working a night shift but he would be home soon. Kate swiftly finished off her cocktail and was about to grab her things and head off home to put Marianne’s suggestion into action when suddenly a man plonked himself down on the seat next to her.

“Mind if I sit here?” he asked, not even waiting for a reply before he leaned in close across the table. He let his eyes rove over her body as he took a seat, assessing that she must have come here straight from work judging by her attire which while still sexy was rather modest compared to some of the other patrons. A tight, clingy skirt emphasised the womanliness of her slight curves despite falling just below her knees and a similarly well-fitting green silk blouse managed to look provocative without being slutty. He grinned as he checked out her legs - killer heels. He’d bet his legal career that she was a good lay.

“You looked so lonely,” he said with a toothy grin, “I thought I’d come keep you company. So… what are you doing here all by yourself?”

Kate instinctively leaned away as the man moved in a little closer, his breath reeked strongly of tequila, so much so that it made her feel almost sick. Placing her hand on her purse, Kate slid it across the table as she moved to go.

“Leaving… actually.”

“Hey don’t be like that, I’m just trying to be friendly,” said the man as his hand disappeared under the table and landed on Kate’s knee. “Maybe you can return the favour?” he grunted hoarsely, sliding his hand up her thigh and squeezing firmly. “You’re a pretty girl, I wouldn’t mind getting to know you better…”

Kate wrinkled her nose in disgust and quickly pulled back while simultaneously pushing the man away, “I don’t think so-”

Suddenly the man grabbed her tightly by the wrist and yanked her back. “What the fuck is your problem?” he shouted threateningly, knocking the table over in the process sending the glasses smashing loudly to the floor. “What? You think you’re too good for the likes of me do ya? Fucking bitch!”

“HEY!” shouted a voice suddenly from across the room. “Let the lady go, alright?”

The drunk spun around quickly, his hold on Kate’s wrist slackening enough for her to wrench herself free of him. The man had just enough time to utter a curse before a fist came flying out of nowhere and knocked him clean to the floor.

Kate was so startled by the whole occurrence that she stumbled backwards, falling into the crowd of onlookers that had gathered around the two men who wrestled on the floor. Seconds later a couple of burly men grabbed hold of the drunk and hauled him upwards, shoving him through the bar towards the door. The whole fiasco was dealt with so swiftly that Kate’s head was still spinning even as the crowds began to disperse, the broken glass was swept away and the knocked over table was turned upright again.

As a dizzy groan sounded from the ground, she turned, seeing the man that had so valiantly come to her rescue still sprawled out on the floor.

“Oh dear,” she said softly, kneeling down at his side. “Are you alright?”

“I’ll live…” he moaned groggily as he sat up, holding his aching jaw with one hand. A stream of blood poured down from his nose, marring his usually suave good looks. Even so he smiled as he looked up at the attractive redhead. “So… did I save the day?”

Kate couldn’t help but gasp in surprise as the man lifted his head up to look at her. She hadn’t really had a good look at him during all the commotion, he’d pretty much come flying out of nowhere to her aid and then he’d taken a dive after fighting off the sleaze.

“Oh my god!” she murmured in disbelief. “Tony?”

“The one and only…” Tony muttered, wiping his bloody nose on his shirtsleeve as Kate helped him up to his feet. “Jeez Princess you sure know how to liven a joint up eh?” he chuckled morosely. “A guy comes in for a quiet drink, ends up getting punched in the face.”

Kate grimaced with guilt. She could have handled the drunkard on her own easily enough, Gaia knew she’d dealt with far more dangerous situations than some soused up jerk trying his luck. But even though she hadn’t asked for Tony’s assistance she couldn’t help but feel somehow responsible for the injuries he had suffered as a result. He’d obviously taken a nasty hit; his nose was still bleeding profusely, dripping steadily onto the floor.

“Here…” Kate said gently, leading Tony over to a chair and sitting him down. She picked up a couple of paper napkins from a stack on a nearby table and pulled up another chair at Tony’s side. “Come on,” she directed kindly, dabbing at his bloody face with one of the napkins, “let me help you with that.”

Tony was quiet as he let Kate tend to his injury, her hands were so soft against his face, her touch both confident and at the same time quite gentle too. He couldn’t help but wonder what it must be like to have someone such as her to help take care of all your woes and how much comfort that must bring, to have secured the love of a kind and beautiful woman.

“Thanks…” he said quietly as she finished cleaning him up. “You’re quite the little nursemaid aren’t you?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you can be one patronising arse sometimes?” Kate said with a wry grin, balling up the wad of bloody napkins in her hand.

“Well… no…” Tony said after a moment’s silence, a slow smile growing on his face. “But that’s not to say it isn’t true.”

Kate laughed half-heartedly, her shoulders sagging slightly as she sat back in her chair with a sigh. The adrenaline of the evening had worn off and she was feeling quite tired again.

“Thank-you,” she said sincerely, smiling warmly at the man who sat next to her. “For… coming to my rescue and everything. I want you to know that I could have taken care of myself but…” Kate smiled again softly, placing a hand on Tony’s arm, “thank-you anyway.”

Tony was quiet again, his eyes lingering on Kate’s small hand resting on his arm. “No problem Princess.” Suddenly he leapt up from his chair, digging his own hands into the pockets of his trousers. “Look, how about I get you a drink-“

“You’re kidding right?” said Kate in surprise, rising from her seat and placing a restraining hand on Tony’s shoulder. “After what you just did I’ll buy the drinks.”

Tony sank back down into his chair, watching Kate as she walked over to the bar, leaning across to talk to the bartender. He frowned slightly as he withdrew his hands from his pockets, looking down into his clenched fist. Slowly he uncurled his fingers to reveal a small plastic container no larger than a bullet casing filled with a clear liquid.

He looked back up at Kate as she continued to converse with the bartender and smiled. It was going to be an interesting night.

Past Lives Pt.1 - Secrets & Lies (continued)

Submitted by Meredith Bell on Sun, 03/06/2005 - 11:46.

PAST LIVES - PART 1
SECRETS & LIES (continued)

Quote:

For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright, who art as black as hell, as dark as night.
- William Shakespeare

Bar Rumba, Pasadena – Los Angeles
Thursday, 19th July 2007
10:18pm

Tony laughed, placing his bottle on the table with a clatter. “All I’m saying is that attractive women like yourself shouldn’t come to bars and expect not to be hit on!”

Kate shook her head vehemently. “No, no, what you were saying is that if a woman is attractive and alone she’s asking for trouble – that is so NOT the same. Why should any woman have to worry about where they go or whom they go with just because they might get hassled by a bunch of guys who can’t take no for an answer?”

“Well it probably has something to do with living in the real world and not some ridiculous girly fantasy!”

Kate rolled her eyes and leaned back into her chair. They’d been chatting for about fifteen minutes and Kate had to admit that she was more than a little surprised at how easy it had been to talk to Tony. She had never really liked him before; in fact there had always been something about him that set her on edge. A kind of hidden agenda that only he seemed aware of. But tonight it was like he was a different person, instead of close suggestive remarks he was all playfulness and teasing, it made him seem almost… nice.

Tony grinned, twisting the piece of black rope that he wore about his neck between his thumb and forefinger with contemplation. Nodding towards Kate’s empty cocktail glass he smiled indulgently, raising his chin in query. “Can I get you another?”

“Oh, no… no…” said Kate quickly, holding her hand up in protest. She’d already had more than enough to drink and could feel the tingling effects of the alcohol making her a little light-headed.

“I had a bad experience a couple of months ago,” she explained, a slight shiver of self-disgust travelling through her skin as she vaguely recalled her one-night-stand with Damen Kirk. Despite her best attempts to forget, her recent reconciliation with Reah had brought all of those memories back to the surface. Kate had no desire to allow herself to get into a state like that ever again. “Let’s just say I know my limit.”

Tony shrugged effortlessly. “Okay well… maybe something soft? I’m told they do some great virgin cocktails here,” he said with a slight wink. He could tell that Kate was hesitant and so he flashed her one of his award winning smiles, his pearly white teeth gleaming in the subdued lighting. “Come on,” he urged, “you don’t want me to look like a total loser drinking on my own do you?”

Kate smiled, shaking her head. She really DID want to go home, Galen would be back from work soon and she was quite looking forward to snuggling up together on the couch watching some black and white movie. But she still felt beholden to Tony for his bravery earlier that night, the least she could do was stay and have another drink with him.

“Okay…” she said reluctantly, smiling slightly as Tony jumped up from his seat with an air of jubilation. “But – just the one drink okay? And nothing alcoholic…”

“Whatever you want Princess,” grinned Tony as he headed off towards the bar.

Sliding down into her chair, Kate gazed around the busy room. It was much more crowded now and the music had been turned up to compensate for the increased noise. Closing her eyes, Kate took a long cleansing breath in an attempt to clear her head. She really shouldn’t be feeling so dizzy, she’d only had three cocktails in as many hours… Kate knew her body; she knew what it could take and what it couldn’t.

Something felt… wrong.

Opening her eyes, Kate groaned quietly as the vivid red and orange décor seemed to blur together, the brightly coloured disco lights dazzling her eyes. Kate squeezed her eyelids shut again, shaking her head and blinking several times. Slowly her vision began to focus again. Kate sighed.

“One strawberry daiquiri for the lady!” declared Tony as he returned from the bar a few minutes later, placing the brightly coloured drink down on the table. “Virgin of course,” he added with a grin.

Kate picked up the frosty glass and nursed it between both her hands for a moment before directing the straw to her mouth and taking a long drink. The ice-cold strawberry liquid tasted so good in the hot club, cooling a path down her throat.

“Oh that’s so nice,” Kate mumbled wearily, rolling the glass against her bare arms and across her forehead in an attempt to try to cool herself down.

Tony observed Kate silently as she performed this act, his eyes flickering across her body as the thin ice coating on the outside of the glass melted against her warm flesh and trickled down her skin. “You feeling okay there?” he said finally, smiling as he took the glass out of her hands and placed it back on the table. “You look a little fried.”

“I’m okay,” said Kate with a sigh, picking up one of the beer mats and wafting it back and forth to create a cool breeze. “It’s just so warm in here!” she laughed, “must be all the people or… something.”

“Or something,” echoed Tony, the corner of his mouth quirking upwards slightly. “Did you say Galen was waiting for you?”

“No… no… he’s working tonight,” Kate corrected him, leaning back in her chair again as the room seemed to spin about her once more. “He’ll be back later.”

“A man should really take better care of his wife,” said Tony, shuffling in his chair a little. He looked up at Kate and pursed his lips together seriously. “Working late… never being around… putting his career before his marriage… I mean what if something had happened to you tonight?” he asked solemnly, “I don’t think I’d ever forgive myself if I was elsewhere while something terrible was happening to the woman I loved.”

“I can take care of myself,” said Kate confidently, frowning slightly at how serious Tony had suddenly become. “Galen knows that, he respects my… my independence. And anyway, he doesn’t put work before our marriage, he never has. True, he is working a lot at the moment but that’s only because he has to. If you knew what we’d been through recently you’d understand-”

“Hey, hey, Princess… I’m sorry,” said Tony defensively, holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I didn’t mean it to sound as though Galen doesn’t care about you. Man, you only have to hear him talk about you to know that he thinks the world of you.”

Chuckling a little, Tony swiped up his beer bottle, his eyes falling on Kate’s half-finished drink. He took a swig from his beer and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. As Kate picked up her glass and took another long drink he couldn’t help but grin, twisting the thick black rope around his neck between his fingers once again.

“You and Galen… seems almost like a dream come true from where I’m sitting. The two of you always look so happy together, so well suited.”

Kate sighed heavily as she finished the last of her drink, holding the glass in her hands that had turned disappointingly lukewarm. She wiped her condensation soaked fingers across her overheated forehead.

“I… I believe we are,” she stammered almost breathlessly. The music continued to pound dully in her ears while the room seemed to grow darker, almost heavy like a weight pressing against her. Tony appeared unaffected, his voice swimming through the oppressive atmosphere, sounding hollow and tinny.

“Soul mates?”

“Soul mates?” Kate repeated in confusion, placing her empty glass back on the table, “maybe… I guess… I, I wouldn’t have thought that you, that you would believe in such things.”

“Maybe I don’t,” grinned Tony, “but hell, what do I know? There are greater things, deeper mysteries in this world than perhaps any of us truly realise. Some of us anyhow. Some of us know more than we let on…” he eyed Kate suspiciously, she was rocking gently back and forth and she looked particularly distressed.

“Kate?” he said gently, placing a steady hand on her arm, her skin felt cold and clammy. “Are you okay? You look a little pale…”

“I…” Kate took a deep breath, trying to clear her head. The loud music hurt her ears and the bright lights were starting to blur together again. It felt like she was drunk and having a panic attack at the same time. She rubbed her eyes, frowning when her vision didn’t focus this time.

“I just think I need a little air…” she gasped, tugging at the clingy material of her top, “I… I can’t breathe properly…”

Pulling herself up from her chair, Kate had to grab hold of a nearby table as her legs gave way from under her. “Oh god,” she groaned as she pulled herself up to her feet, leaning against the solid surface.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Tony asked again, catching hold of her before she fell flat on her face.

Kate held her head, groaning slightly. “I… I don’t know what’s happening, I… I didn’t even drink…” She groaned again woosily, holding onto the table for support. “I don’t feel too good,” she said, swallowing back a tide of sickness that suddenly washed over her. “I think I should go home.”

“Don’t worry,” said Tony, wrapping his arm around her waist and grabbing hold of their things. Slowly he led her through the crowded bar. “I’ll take you home.”

Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007

Submitted by Allyana on Sun, 03/06/2005 - 14:44.

Wednesday, July 18th.
9:55 am
Peninsula Beverly Hills Hotel

Ellis checked his watch as he handed the keys of his car to the valet of the Peninsula hotel. He was on time, even if he had had to rush to get there. Last minute problems at the office had detained him more than he had expected. He took off his shades and put them in the inner pocket of his coat before entering the elegant hotel, and he squinted a little to adjust his eyesight to the lesser lighting of the hotel hall.

He walked purposely towards the front desk and waited the smallest second for the concierge to wait on him. "I'm here to see Mr. Dalton," he said, "he's expecting me."

The concierge didn’t even flinch, he picked up his phone to confirm the date with Mr. Dalton's assistant. After a soft exchange he hung up and smiled at Ellis, "Mr. Dalton's suite is the 601. Mr. Dalton's assistant will be waiting for you."

Ellis nodded and he headed towards the elevators. He mentally pictured Mr. Dalton's 'assistant'. A beautiful demoness, as deadly as beautiful, actually. He remembered her well from the battlefield, even if he had forgotten all about her and her boss since then. He had had too many things in his head.

However, the idea of consulting Marcus Dalton had come to him after seeing him at a charity ball the week before. He had spotted Daye among the dancers and had almost greeted her when she started talking to the necromancer. His empathic ability fully restored, he had been able to pick up enough of their interaction to know that it wasn’t the time to chat, but he had made a mental note to consult the necromancer.

His research on the Eye of St. Vigeous was at a dead end, and he was becoming increasingly frustrated about it. Between the deal with Morris and the elusive demon hunter he had been tracking to no avail, not to mention DeAngelo combusting in his father's lawn, he hadn’t been the best person to be around lately. Fortunately Alessa had left for NY to visit her demon cousin, she wasn't coming back till the afternoon. With some luck, he’d receive her with some good news for a change. Damn, he really hoped Dalton could shed some light over the relic.

Marcus sat at his desk as Onyx showed Ellis Longwood into his office. His relationship with his servitor hadn’t changed that much after their discussion but he was still resisting having Oheneewa’s memories implanted in his mind. He was certain he could solve the issue of calling up the Hive Mother without them. Onyx was, so far at least, willing to wait.

Marcus knew of Longwood, by reputation at least. The market for occult objects had only so many players, and Longwood’s company was definitely one of the sharks. Which made the request for this meeting all the more puzzling, there still remained other necromancers in the city and no doubt they had one or more within the company. Inwardly Marcus shrugged. Ellis Longwood had wealth, power and connections with L.A’s occult underworld. If Marcus was going to follow through on his aims having the man in his debt would be useful.

“Please Mr Longwood take a seat.” Marcus waited a moment for the man to settle into the chair then smiled pleasantly. “Now what is it I can do for you?”

"Good afternoon, Mr. Dalton," Ellis looked a second around the elegant office, noticing the subtle details that made it so much 'personal' than a hotel room. The necromancer had made himself at home there, even if for a short time. But then necromancy wasn’t something done in an office. However, he knew he had bought the old 'Wolfram and Hart' building and was cleaning it, so he was probably planning to stay at LA.

His eyes returned to the necromancer's and he could feel his dark power. He remembered that power well, too. He had seen it's deadness at work. But obviously Dalton didn’t remember him. Well, he didn’t need the White Hats connections to talk to the man anyway.

"My visit is purely professional, Mr. Dalton. I need information on this Necromantic relic, and I thought you may help me." He paused a second; no, he hadn't remembered him, there was even a slight feeling of surprise that his visit could be nothing but professional. "What can you tell me about the 'Eye of St. Vigeous'?"

Marcus leant back in his chair. “Hmmm the eye of St Vigeous…” He murmured. Marcus thought a little while longer till he had brought the relevant details to mind. There wasn’t as much as he would have liked but he had a few references that may well fill in some blanks. Unfortunately they remained in Hong Kong awaiting shipping to Los Angeles when he finally moved into the Dalton Building.

“An interesting object; perhaps you’d care to explain why you’re interested in it and why I should tell you what I know.”

Ellis leant back as well and smiled slightly. It wasn’t needed to be psychic to recognize the intelligence behind Dalton's eyes or words. He wasn’t compromising himself till he knew more. Ellis respected intelligence. Well, it wasn’t useful to consult a professional and hide cards up his sleeve.

"I have reasons to believe that the object is being searched by this very capable vampire. My… hum, source, is pretty sure he'll find it, sooner or later." He looked at the necromancer straight in the eye, "and about why you should tell me, well, I told you this was a professional visit. You just name your price and I'll see if I can pay it."

“I take it you’re hoping to get there first?” Marcus noted Ellis’ nod. “Well then, if the information I have helps you find the Eye I would like the opportunity to examine it. “

Ellis took only a second to make up his mind. Actually his plan was to destroy that abomination as soon as he got his hands on it, but letting the necromancer examine it wasn’t such a big deal, and he may end up needing his expertise to destroy it anyway. He hadn't gone to see Dalton blindly either, the man was known for honouring his deals. He nodded again. "That price I can pay," he agreed.

“Very well then. You understand I don’t have all my references however from memory…” Marcus took a moment longer to compose his thoughts then continued on “Vigeous was a vampire who came to prominence in the early Christian period though his exact origin is unknown.

In the early medieval period he started a crusade through a swath of the middle east, eventually it was defeated by a coalition of The Knights Templar, The Knights Hospitaler and The Watchers' Council.”

Marcus paused stood up and poured himself a glass of water after a sip he spoke again. “The Eye itself was either created or found by Vigeous the accounts are unclear but it was definitely a necromantic object granting power over vampires.

Unfortunately,” Marcus noted Ellis’ eyes narrow, “or fortunately I guess it depends on your perspective, The Eye was lost when a detachment of Templars surprised and destroyed a group of vampires carrying it away from the final battle. Most scholars presume it ended up in the Templar vaults on Malta but after that point it fell out of history.

The Eye holds a peculiar power over some vampires, especially those interested in esoteric lore. It falls into the same category as The Holy Grail in Christian beliefs. An object of untold power lost for centuries. Though to be fair we can at least be sure it existed. It’s powers have never been reliably tested however and those could very well be just another myth.”

Ellis absently brushed his temple while he thought about what Dalton had said, most of it he had learnt in his own, but the bit about it being taken by Knights Templar was new and could prove important. Also he hadn't known that the Council had taken part on Vigeous defeat. That may be the information that had put Morris ahead of most other vampires that had some time or other looked for the artifact.

"The vampire I mentioned, the one looking for the Eye… he was a Watcher himself." He mused, "and he specialized in mystical lore. So was my father, actually, until Morris killed him." He looked up to the man's eyes. "Morris Giles. Have you ever heard of him?"

“Unfortunately not. The Giles’ have, as a family, been watchers for a great many centuries, but I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting that particular scion of the line.”

Ellis frowned, the familiar anger at his father's friend resurfacing. "Well, you haven’t missed much. However, it's probably his Council's knowledge that's getting him ahead in this. There's a reason the Council tries to make sure their Watchers stay dead." He tapped his fingers on the polished arm of her chair, "but we know the Council hasn’t been the same of late."

He looked up at the necromancer and smiled tightly. "Fortunately I also have my connections with the Watchers, now that I know where to look."

“Very well. I may have further information, but the majority of my library is in Hong Kong. Still, if anything else springs to mind I’ll contact you for that matter. Should you want any assistance dealing with this Morris Giles I’d be happy to help,” Marcus smiled, “for a price.”

Ellis smiled in return. "I think we understand each other. I'll keep the offer in mind." He stood up and extended his hand. "It's been a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Dalton. I hope we can prove of further assistance some other time."

Marcus took Longwood’s hand. “Likewise.”

Past Lives Pt.2 - Consequences

Submitted by Meredith Bell on Sun, 03/06/2005 - 15:40.

PAST LIVES - PART 2
CONSEQUENCES

Quote:

Let Hercules himself do what he may, The cat will mew, and dog will have his day.
- William Shakespeare, (Hamlet - V.1)

Car Park Outside Bar Rumba, Pasadena
Thursday, 19th July 2007
10:33pm

With Nicole Kidman as Kate Eldridge and Marc Anthony as Tony Green

The sounds from the bar could still be heard even outside. Kate wobbled around ungainly as she stepped into the cool night, holding tightly onto Tony as he led her towards his car.

“I’m so… sorry about this,” she moaned with self-reproach as she stumbled uneasily in her high heels. Her legs felt so strange, like jelly - all shaky and insubstantial, leaving her no control over which direction she walked in. “I- I don’t know what’s wrong… I only had-“

“Three drinks, I know,” chuckled Tony as he struggled to keep her upright while he fumbled in his trouser pocket for his car keys. “Well I don’t know how you usually respond to alcohol but from the state of you I’d say you had a lot more than three…”

“No… no…” muttered Kate frustratedly, “I didn’t, I… I know I… I always keep count… I just don’t…. I don’t understand…”

“Well don’t worry your pretty head about it,” said Tony with a smile as he managed to unlock the car and opened the back door. “We’ll soon have you home.”

“Thank-you, Tony,” Kate said, wrapping both her arms around his neck and leaning against him, her head resting on his chest. “Really… I don’t know what I’d have done if you hadn’t been here. First that guy and now…” she sighed. “You’re a regular knight in shining armour, you know that?”

Tony frowned uncomfortably, taking hold of Kate and helping her inside the car. “Yeah I’m just great,” he muttered with a sigh as he arranged her limp arms and legs neatly on the backseat in sight of the rear-view mirror. Clicking her seatbelt in place, Tony climbed out of the car, shutting the door behind him. He glanced nervously around the deserted car park before jumping into the driver’s seat and starting up the engine.

They drove silently. Kate rolled her head to one side against the window as they travelled, resting the side of her face against the cold glass. The quiet was more than welcome, she didn’t really feel like talking, in fact all she wanted to do was to curl up in her nice warm bed and go to sleep until her head stopped spinning. Imaging herself there already, Kate gazed out of the dark window as the car sped down the highway, focusing her tired eyes on the passing scenery. A steady blur of inky black trees and uniform fencing passed by virtually unseen apart from when the yellow glow from an occasional street lamp crossed their path overhead.

The infrequent light was enough for Kate to view her driver by though. Tony’s face looked dark and blank as he stared out of the windscreen, his eyes fixed on the road ahead except from when he glanced back at her in the rear-view mirror.

Passing another street light, Kate lifted her wrist, resting it against the window and waiting. Her arm felt so heavy she could barely keep it raised. A few seconds later another beam of synthetic yellow light filled the car briefly, allowing her to read the dial of her watch. She focused hard but she still couldn’t make out the tiny symbols or indeed where the hands were pointing, it seemed like they had been driving for ages.

“Try to relax,” said Tony as he observed her frustration in the mirror. “It’ll be better that way,” he added quietly before returning his focus to the road.

Kate sighed tiredly and closed her eyes for a moment. She was starting to feel quite strange, not like being drunk at all but kind of floaty and distant. It felt quite nice actually, her whole body felt warm and relaxed as though the back of her neck was made out of maple syrup while her head seemed kind of woolly and fuzzy around the edges. It all made her feel rather giddy.

Watching her through the rear-view mirror, Tony smiled to himself. “You alright back there?” he asked, continuing to take intermittent glances at her in the mirror as he drove.

Kate squinted against the glare of passing headlights as she forced herself to open her eyes again. The bright lights dazzled her momentarily so that she couldn’t see much in the dark interior of the car except the glow of the dials and other controls along the dashboard. She mumbled quietly, rolling her head away from the window and resting the back of her neck against the seat.

“I’m… good…” she sighed drowsily, “…just… …tired…”

Tony nodded his head. “That’ll be the ketamine I slipped into your drink when you went to the restroom. Don’t worry…” he added reassuringly as he observed a flicker of bewildered confusion begin to cross Kate’s face. “You’ll just feel very relaxed… light-headed, kind of dreamy and distant. I don’t want to hurt you Kate, that’s why I’m doing this.” His eyes made contact with hers through the mirror as she struggled to stay conscious. “Don’t try to fight against it, let it do it’s job… things will be far more easier that way. I’ve taken care of everything.”

In the space of a few seconds, the sense of warm calm that had only moments ago wrapped around Kate like a woolly blanket was suddenly ripped free, replaced by an icy cold chill that seeped into her bones as the meaning of Tony’s words permeated into her consciousness. The car continued to speed through the darkness of the city but where they were headed Kate didn’t know anymore, she couldn’t understand anything that was happening except that the pounding in her ears was driving her mad.

She rolled her head back towards the window, her forehead bumping against the cold glass. Kate mumbled absently as she struggled to speak, to form her jumbled thoughts into something coherent and then find the energy to actually say it.

“Why…?” she murmured quietly, her breath catching in the back of her throat as she tried to control the panic in her voice. Her mind told her that she needed to gain some control in the situation, maybe stall Tony from doing… whatever it was he had planned… she shuddered inside. “What… what do… you want?”

Tony was silent for a few minutes as he pondered Kate’s question. “Do you believe that bad people should be punished?” he asked finally, glancing at her in the mirror. She didn’t answer, her eyelids dipped drowsily as she fought to keep them open - he continued regardless.

“I used to believe in natural justice, that eventually people who did wrong would get what they deserved. Took me a long while to realise that natural justice doesn’t exist anymore, that if we want to see justice done we need to be prepared to get our hands a little dirty.”

He sniffed with a slight twitch of his nose, his steely eyes fixing on the dark road outside the windscreen. “He loves you so much doesn’t he? Your husband… Galen.” Tony’s voice was caustic as he practically spat the words. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man so in love with his wife,” he added with a morose chuckle. “I think he’d be devastated if anything ever happened to you.”

A tight smile formed on Tony’s face, distorting his features darkly. He cocked his head to one side curiously, glancing at Kate again in the mirror. “What do you think he would do to himself? If something did happen to you? Would it be above him to take his own life, I mean… it happens all the time doesn’t it? The pain… the guilt, it gets so bad it becomes impossible to forgive yourself for not being the one… for being responsible…”

Tony cleared his throat suddenly, removing all trace of emotion from his voice again. “You remember how that feels don’t you Kate? When that beautiful little girl of yours died, felt like the end of the world didn’t it? I bet… I bet it felt like you were dead already.” He smiled grimly, “you see, I’ve always thought that the best way to punish someone is to take away the very thing that they hold most dear. Take that away and their life suddenly becomes nothing, they cease to function.”

“Galen, for instance,” continued Tony, his voice inanimate - devoid of all feeling as he spoke. “It didn’t take long to find out that he loved you more than anything else in this entire world.” He smiled again, taking intermittent glances at Kate in the rear-view mirror. “He talks about you like some love-sick teenager. I think he’d go to pieces if anything happened to you, if you were taken away from him. …I don’t think he would ever forgive himself.”

Kate felt unadulterated panic rising from the pit of her stomach, hot and raw like bile. Her body seemed to stiffen in response to Tony’s words, like an animal that senses its life being threatened yet is too paralysed by fear to do anything but wait for the inevitable.

“What have we… ever done to you?” forced out Kate anxiously, her breath ragged and heavy. It was taking all her strength just to keep her mind focused on what was happening, she felt so strange she could barely describe it, kind of light and far away, like she was drifting off into her own little world.

“Family is so important, don’t you think so Kate?” asked Tony in reply to her question. He could feel his own bitterness bubbling up inside of him, struggling to be released. He took a deep breath and concentrated on his driving as he talked, his foot easing up off the accelerator.

“When in times of trouble, they’re the only ones you can really rely on. Whatever happens they won’t turn you away. That’s how it should be anyway. I never knew my father, and my mother,” Tony laughed bitterly, “what a cheap whore, spent most of her time on her back when she wasn’t being fucked in some filthy alleyway. She’s dead now, not that it matters she wasn’t exactly the maternal type.”

Tony grasped the steering wheel tightly with one hand as he fumbled around in the glove-box looking for a cigarette. Lighting one up he took a long, comforting draw, rolling down the window and blowing the smoke outside. It seemed to calm him somewhat and he continued.

“I had to learn to look out for myself from an early age. I guess that’s why I joined the police force, you know? To feel like I was part of a family.” He took another long drag of his cigarette, coughing slightly and covering his mouth with one hand. “But it wasn’t the same. Dear ol’ dad…” Tony sighed long and heavy. “I spent years trying to track him down, when I finally did he said he wanted nothing to do with me - his bastard son.”

Tony’s eyes grew distant and cold as he talked. “But I didn’t let it go, I knew that if I worked at it he’d have to acknowledge me. He would have too. I know it. But he was murdered before I even had the chance…”

“Your… father?” mumbled Kate weakly, the earlier dreamy sensation had been replaced by a rather detached feeling, as though she were looking down as she floated above her own body. It made her feel sick and disorientated, more than anything she wanted to just close her eyes and let herself be dragged down by the sensation. It was so overwhelming, but she couldn’t she had to stay awake.

“Anthony Constillias was my father,” he intoned bitterly, his jaw rigid as he spoke, “and your husband as good as murdered him.”

Past Lives Pt.2 - Consequences (continued)

Submitted by Meredith Bell on Mon, 03/07/2005 - 17:29.

PAST LIVES - PART 2
CONSEQUENCES (continued)

Quote:

Man… cannot learn to forget, but hangs on the past: however far or fast he runs, that chain runs with him.
– Fredrich Nietzsche

Quote:

I do not want faith, I want knowledge. I do not want hope, I want truth.
– Sean Baltz

Tony’s Car, Location Static
Thursday, 19th July 2007
10:51pm

Kate’s world was spinning wildly. As Tony ranted on she pressed her cheek against the window again, revelling in its coolness. It helped to clear her head a little, to make sense of this whole crazy night if that was possible.

How could it be? Tony Green, her husband’s partner at the LAPD was Anthony Constillias’ son?

Anthony Constillias… Manticore, the man who had manipulated Galen back in the days when he’d worked for Majestic… the same man who’d ordered them both to be killed, who had conspired against his own agency to gain power, had plotted to reopen the infamous Lazarus project…

And Galen… when he uncovered the proof needed to implicate Constillias had used it to buy his way out of Majestic, to ensure their future safety and that of their unborn child…

“That was all the evidence Algernon Farefax needed to assume control of Majestic,” said Tony as though reading Kate’s thoughts. He kept his eyes focused on the road ahead yet he seemed agitated, fidgeting with the remainder of his cigarette before throwing it out the window and rolling it back up.

“It took a lot of digging to get to the truth. Thank god this is America – the land where the almighty buck speaks louder than any conscience. Eventually I managed to unravel the whole ball of yarn. Farefax murdered my father, ensuring his ascension within the ranks based on the information your husband provided him with!”

Kate’s breathing grew more rapid and short as she listened to Tony’s bile. Fresh panic rose up inside of her at his rabid words but she quickly fought it back down, she couldn’t let fear take over, if she did she was as good as dead.

She had to think.

Tony had said more than enough for her to piece together what was going on, that HE was the one Galen’s friend Lucky had warned them about, the man that had been systematically targeting Majestic agents and their families. That meant he was capable of pretty much any evil the mind could imagine. He’d already murdered a young child, set fire to a building with an old man and little girl inside and was responsible for a number of other deaths.

Kate shuddered, she felt sick inside with fear at the stark realisation of what Tony must have been doing for months… Every time he’d come to their house or they’d all gone out for lunch together… Behind every smile or joke or burst of rousing laughter he must have been secretly planning how he was going punish them.

Her eyes bore into the back of his neck as he drove. Controlling her breathing helped some, made her feel more in command of her body, made her feel stronger. Focusing her attention on Tony, Kate channelled all her energy into reading his mind. If she knew what he had planned, where they were headed even, then maybe she could think of a way to stop him.

She had barely begun to make a connection when a piercing pain shot down the side of her neck and she whimpered in agony. Opening her eyes slowly, she returned her gaze to the back of Tony’s head, afraid that he might have realised what she’d been trying to do. Kate frowned in frustration, suppressing a groan despite the dull throbbing in her skull. She didn’t know if it was the drugs he had given her or something else but it was as though there was a barrier or a shield stopping her from reading him or sensing his emotions.

“Do you know what it’s like to be poisoned, Kate?” asked Tony calmly, lighting up another cigarette – completely oblivious to her attempts at reading his mind. “That’s what they did to him you know… poison, like he was some animal that had to be put down. Made it look like a heart attack - but then, you’d know all about what they’re capable of.”

Tony blew a cloud of smoke through his nostrils with distaste. “He might not have been the world’s best father but he was the only one I had. Farefax, Lawson, Booth, your husband… they all had a hand in killing him, in murdering him. I’m gonna make sure that they never forget the name Constillias…”

“So … you’re goin tolethim … … ruin your life?” groaned Kate drowsily, her words slurring together. She didn’t know what else to do but try to keep him talking like before. Just thinking was becoming difficult, trying to process everything that Tony was saying was almost impossible.

“Aman that… …that never caredboutyou… whodidn wanto… …to even know you…”

Tony’s face grew dark like thunder until he snapped. “SHUT UP!” he bellowed violently, suddenly jumping on the breaks and bringing the car to an abrupt stop.

Despite her seatbelt, Kate’s body jerked forwards and her head cracked against the headrest in front before the belt locked and the car’s sudden inertia slung her back into the seat. She groaned dizzily as thin streaks of blood slowly rolled down the side of her face.

“Remember what I said?!” he yelled, his face red with unrestrained anger as he spat his words at her with venom. “Take away the thing that a person holds dear and their life suddenly becomes nothing? Well Anthony Constillias - my father, WAS all I had! And my life IS nothing now!” His top lip rose upwards in a vicious sneer. “Revenge is all I have left and I’ve been slowly working my way through all those that played a part in my father’s murder. Your darling husband took away the only person in my life that meant anything… and so I’m gonna do the same to him.”

Swivelling back in his seat, Tony started the engine up again and they resumed their steady paced drive. “I tracked him down to LA, got a transfer to the PD. I watched him for months just waiting, plotting how to get my revenge. Then that day I saw the two of you together it all just fit into place. You were the one thing – the only thing he cared about. And I knew… the best revenge would be to hurt you. Nothing I could do to him would compare to the pain and suffering he’ll feel when he finds out what I did to you.”

Kate was starting to panic again, feeling dizzy and disorientated. She glanced out the window, the bright lights continued to blur together violently, bleeding together and jumping out from the darkness like some psychedelic acid trip. If only she could get help, escape… she groaned nauseously, closing her eyes against the rising sickness that swept over her.

Tony watched her in the rear-view mirror, a cruel smile distorting his features. He yanked on the steering wheel and directed the car off the road and down the steep grassy verge that edged the highway. The car bumped back and forth as Tony steered down the uneven surface, deftly avoiding the occasional tree or shrub that jutted out of the desolate landscape.

“You know, in my line of work there’s always bad news to be delivered. Finding a body, alerting the relatives…” he sighed, “some of the prettiest girls I’ve ever seen were little more than a violated corpse laying by the roadside – like those paper cups you get at fast food places.” He grinned a little, “crushed, torn, discarded and leaking shit. After a while you get used to it, or at least you convince yourself that you do. But telling a man that his wife’s been found murdered… that’s a special kind of feeling, different every time.“

Tony’s eyes became glazed as he rolled the car to a stop and turned off the engine. He continued to sit completely still, staring straight ahead. They were surrounded by sparse trees and scrub, the impenetrable darkness of the night adding to the barren and lonely feel of the strip of wilderness.

“I can’t wait to see Galen’s face when they tell him what happened to you…those crime scene people are incredibly thorough you know. They’ll piece everything together and hand it to that brave, diligent husband of yours in a nice little report for him to read again and again.”

Kate mumbled uneasily but she didn’t have the strength to form her thoughts into words anymore. She groaned again, her voice weak and distressed as she murmured indistinctly, her lips barely even moving.

Tony twisted in his seat to look at her, she was really out of it now, hardly even conscious. “Not up to conversation anymore?” he asked tauntingly, turning back to face the windscreen and the dark view outside. “Sick of talking anyway,” he muttered, looking out the window. He paused for a moment to listen to the silence. Nothing could be heard except the faint roar of traffic far behind them in the distance.

“Well this seems as good a place as any,” he said with an air of satisfaction before climbing out of the car.

Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007

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