\ Location:Greenwich Village http://unlimitedi.net/taxonomy/term/153/all en 22:50 "After Hours" http://unlimitedi.net/node/3363 <p><p> <strong>Sl&agrave;inte Pub</strong></p> <p> Alison turned to face Pablo, who came up beside her as Cadee left to return to her work. She smiled at him abashedly and said, &ldquo;I hope you don&rsquo;t mind, but I&rsquo;m going to abuse my position now. This isn&rsquo;t my usual thing anymore, but there&rsquo;s a story out there.&rdquo;</p> <p> Pablo&#39;s brow knitted. He had sort of forgotten this aspect of her personality. The newshound. Keeping the secrets of the SCU right after he was recruited to the unit had contributed to them drifting apart.</p> <p> &quot;I suppose if I&rsquo;m going to play cop on our dates I have to expect you to play reporter.&quot;</p> <p> &quot;&#39;Fraid so. A good reporter&#39;s never off-duty either.&quot; She leaned forward and pecked him on the cheek. &quot;I promise I&#39;ll only be a few minutes, I just want to get some snaps. Can I tell your cop buddies out there that you&#39;ve given me an exclusive?&quot;</p> <p> &quot;I suppose,&quot; he said reluctantly. He was certain that they&#39;d give the cover story that they had hastily thrown together. Anything vague or suspicious would be covered by &#39;<em>that information is pending the investigation</em>&#39;.</p> <p> &quot;Just hurry back, I&#39;d hate to ruin a date on account of work, for either of us.&quot;</p> <p> &ldquo;Definitely. If you want to finish off your poppers, I&rsquo;ll be back before you know it.&rdquo; She grinned at him and left him to find his own way back to his original table. Heading to the side door to get her pictures, she realised there was still activity nearby.</p> <p> &ldquo;No, I&rsquo;m not going to hospital!&rdquo;</p> <p> It was the injured man in the booth who was talking. Alison could see that the EMT had more or less finished ministering first aid and was now speaking to someone on his radio &ndash; presumably with the ambulance outside. Seeing the merest of opportunities, Alison slid into the seat opposite the man while the EMT was busy conferring with his colleagues. Fishing around in her purse, she pulled out her digital recorder and set it on the table in front of her.</p> <p> &ldquo;Hi,&rdquo; she said, sliding one of her business cards across to the man. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m Alison Scruggs, reporter. The Detective over there says you&rsquo;re a hero. Would you mind talking to me about what happened? Just a brief statement will be fine.&rdquo;</p> <p> Logan gritted his teeth as the pain in his shoulder flared up. <em>Ah shit</em>. He could just imagine how mad Romano would be if it came out that Logan was somehow attached to this debacle. Low profile was one of his boss&#39;s major mantras.</p> <p> &quot;I&#39;m not a hero,&quot; he finally said, trying to play up the pain so that maybe the reporter would leave him alone. &quot;There was a guy in trouble and I did what I could to help him out, that&#39;s all really.&rdquo; Keep it simple, he thought. Give her one little comment and maybe she wouldn&rsquo;t fish around for more info.</p> <p> Hmm. It was one of these non-talkative types. It wasn&rsquo;t surprising, given his reluctance for medical treatment. Clearly this man had secrets of his own &ndash; but she wasn&rsquo;t interested in those right now. She pushed gently. &ldquo;A guy in trouble? I heard he was on fire. Did you see what happened?&rdquo;</p> <p> &quot;It really happened pretty fast,&quot; he said, trying to come up quickly with some sort of story that would appease her appetite and stop any follow up questions. &quot;I was coming out of here; saw these punks picking on some homeless guy. By the time I got there, the guy was up in flames and the punks jumped me.&quot;</p> <p> &quot;Wow. Most people in New York would just look the other way, you know. So what happened next?&quot; Having already got Pablo&rsquo;s side of the story, she knew there was more to it, and wanted to see how closely this man&rsquo;s account matched Pablo&rsquo;s.</p> <p> &quot;Then I did my best to try and fight the punks off and get the guy to drop and roll. I wasn&#39;t able to get to him in time, but I did manage to knock out a couple of the guys before the cops came out to help. They opened fire and it was all over. I was pretty banged up though...like I said, it&#39;s a bit of a blur.&quot;</p> <p> &quot;Well, you did far more than most people would. May I have your name for the story?&quot; She saw the frown begin to crease his forehead before she&#39;d even finished asking, and she couldn&#39;t say she was surprised. He&#39;d already tried to refuse the EMT and had refused a trip to the hospital. &quot;I won&#39;t publish it if you don&#39;t want me to,&quot; she added quickly, trying to allay his fears.</p> <p> He sighed, relieved that she wasn&#39;t going to push it more than that. &quot;My name&#39;s Logan... off the record.&quot;</p> <p> &quot;Off the record,&quot; she confirmed. &quot;If you&#39;re not going to the hospital, you probably ought to get home and rest soon. Thanks for your time, Logan.&quot;</p> <p> There was no way he&rsquo;d agree to having his photo taken, she knew, so she didn&rsquo;t even bother to ask. Instead, she slipped out the nearby side door that Pablo had used to bring Logan inside, and surveyed the alleyway where it seemed the bulk of the action had taken place. A couple of detectives were already on the scene &ndash; presumably Pablo&rsquo;s drinking buddies, but they were busy directing EMT&rsquo;s who were just zipping up a body bag. Knowing she had scant moments to get a candid shot, she held up her iPhone and grabbed a series of snaps of the alleyway, then zoomed in on the pair of body bags lying on the ground.</p> <p> In the street beyond, she could make out the smouldering wreckage of a car, and tried to edge a bit closer to get a better angle on it.</p> <p> &ldquo;Hey!&rdquo;</p> <p> She turned her head, her press pass already in hand. She lifted it up to show the advancing cop. &ldquo;Hello, Detective. Alison Scruggs. I was just trying to get a couple of photos. I happened to be in the bar waiting for my old friend, Pablo Sandoval, when all this happened. He just gave me an exclusive on the story.&rdquo; She smiled sweetly at the Detective. He wasn&rsquo;t wearing a jacket, so she hazarded a guess. &ldquo;You must be Charley, I suppose.&rdquo;</p> <p> He&rsquo;d looked just about ready to order her back inside regardless of her story, but when she knew his name, he hesitated. &ldquo;Look, you really shouldn&rsquo;t be here,&rdquo; he said sternly.<br /> &ldquo;This is an active crime scene. But since you&rsquo;re Pablo&rsquo;s friend, I&rsquo;ll escort you up a little ways. But then you&rsquo;re going right back inside, okay?&rdquo;</p> <p> &ldquo;That&rsquo;s fine. Thanks, I appreciate it.&rdquo;</p> <p> She got some good photos of the Prius and the attendant pileup, took photos of the Detectives, the EMTs and even sneaked in another shot or two of the body bags as they were loaded into the back of an ambulance. She made sure to get everyone&rsquo;s name and chatted with Charley, getting yet another angle on the story. He spun the same line about a group of guys attacking some homeless man. Finally she flashed a smile at her escort.</p> <p> &ldquo;That&rsquo;s it. I&rsquo;ll get back out of your hair. Thank you so much, Charley.&rdquo;</p> <p> Back inside Sl&agrave;inte, she pocketed her iPhone and recorder, and peered around looking for Pablo. He was back in his original booth, polishing off the jalapeno poppers. She joined him, sitting opposite him, and pushed a half-drunk beer out of her way. &ldquo;They&rsquo;re just about done out there. The bodies were being loaded into the ambulance when I left. Thanks for indulging me. It&rsquo;s been a while since I did a crime scene like this, but I was right here&hellip;&rdquo; She shrugged. &ldquo;I couldn&rsquo;t pass it up.&rdquo;</p> <p> &quot;I wish I&#39;d passed up the poppers. Blecch...they&rsquo;re sitting kind of heavy.&quot;</p> <p> She laughed at his stupid joke and in that moment he remembered what it was that had made him go to all this trouble to reconnect. He missed her, he realized. He&#39;d dated a few women in the last seven years but they&#39;d been short come-and-go relationships. They fit together in their lives but not their jobs. He held hope that time had changed that.</p> <p> &quot;So what would you like to do from here?&quot;</p> <p> &quot;Well...&quot; Alison gazed around the pub, seeing the red and blue flashes from outside reflecting off the mirrors behind the bar. &quot;I&#39;m easy. It&#39;s okay here, but I&#39;d understand if you want to go somewhere else, all things considered. Hell, they may ask you to fill out paperwork or something. We can&#39;t be having that.&quot;</p> <p> She picked up one of the poppers off the plate. They were starting to cool, but were still warm enough. Biting down on it, she grinned at Pablo. &quot;Do you know, I don&#39;t think I&#39;ve eaten one of these since... well, since we used to go out.&quot;</p> <p> <em>No guts, no glory</em>, Sandoval thought. &quot;We could take a cab back to my place in East Harlem.&quot; He let the suggestion hang for only a second before taking the hand she&#39;d been<br /> casually wiping on a napkin.</p> <p> Alison raised an eyebrow. &ldquo;Oh, Mr. Keen, are we?&rdquo; she said lightly.</p> <p> He replied offhandedly, &quot;No pressure. Just two friends. Coffee. I might even have something on the video we could watch. Or...if it&#39;s too late, I&#39;ll gallantly see that you get home first.&quot;</p> <p> &quot;You know, my place is a lot closer than East Harlem. I&#39;m just in Greenwich Village. And I have coffee.&quot;</p> <p> &quot;That makes the gallant part easy,&quot; he said, tossing some cash on the table. &quot;Let&#39;s go. Cab or walk?&quot;</p> <hr /> <p> <strong>2021-05-11 23:20 &ndash; Tuesday<br /> Greenwich Village</strong></p> <p> Alison kicked off her shoes in the kitchen and padded over her hardwood floors to where Pablo sat at the dining table by the picture window. The view from the penthouse loft was impressive, especially at night. She handed a steaming cup of coffee to him and stood for a moment, staring out the window.</p> <p> &quot;I never get sick of this view. New York at night looks like someone&#39;s gone mad with Christmas lights. It&#39;s so beautiful.&quot;</p> <p> She pulled out a chair and sat, resting her cup on a coaster to let it cool a little. It was just a trifle too hot to drink yet. &quot;I owe this all to Lucinda Graves. That, and people&#39;s insatiable appetite for a good vampire story.&quot;</p> <p> &quot;Vampires and insatiable appetites go together well,&quot; he said cryptically. &quot;From up here you might think everything was normal. But don&#39;t let this cynical cop ruin it for you.&quot;</p> <p> He dragged his eyes away from the vista, and concentrated on Alison. &quot;How much of Alison is Lucinda?&quot;</p> <p> Alison pondered that one for a moment. &quot;It&#39;s hard to say. When I&#39;m writing, I&#39;m probably as much like her as I&#39;ll ever be. I let my imagination run wild and despite all the horrible things I put my heroine through I almost envy her the exciting life she leads. When I&#39;m out in public as the author of the Darque series, though, it can be hard to keep up that sexy fa&ccedil;ade.&quot; She shrugged. &quot;It feels pretentious a lot of the time, but it&#39;s the image we&#39;ve cultivated and it seems to sell books.&quot;</p> <p> &quot;You don&#39;t have to put on sexy, it is part of who you are,&quot; he grinned at her. &quot;<em>Seductorisima</em>.&quot;</p> <p> She felt a slight blush creep up her neck and she glanced down at her coffee. Deciding it was cool enough to drink she picked it up and sipped at it, using the time to get herself under control. She discarded half a dozen flip lines to use in reply and settled instead for changing the subject.</p> <p> &quot;So what about you? Being a hard-boiled New York cop can&#39;t be easy.&rdquo;<br /> She figured she might as well just take the plunge and ask the question that was uppermost in her mind &ndash; the reporter part of her, at least. She wasn&rsquo;t willing to listen to the other part of her just yet. &ldquo;What sort of cases do you have to deal with, anyway? Your card said Special Crimes - but that could mean anything.&quot;</p> <p> <em>Where did that come from? Damn her reporter instincts.</em> &quot;You know how if a criminal commits a crime over state lines it goes to the FBI? Or if they threaten national security they go to Homeland Security? Or when it is a matter of diplomats and foreign powers the CIA takes the case? We make that determination. We act a central liaison between federal agencies and the NYPD. Our unit was formed just after 9-11 to deal with coordinating the New York enforcement agencies FDNY, NYPD, Border Patrol, Subways systems and City Hall with the US Government. New York does so much that it needs someone to figure out who to call when it goes over our heads.&quot;</p> <p> <em>Wow, write that down, it almost sounded plausible!</em> he thought.</p> <p> Alison blinked. <em>Wow, he&#39;s good. That almost sounded plausible.</em></p> <p> She toyed absently with her coffee cup, her eyes fixed on Pablo&#39;s face. The signs were subtle, but she was sure he wasn&#39;t telling her everything. &quot;Uh huh,&quot; she said noncommittally. &quot;So... what was Code 77? And why would the EMT see something strange? I get the feeling those weren&#39;t just regular thugs.&quot;</p> <p> His expression hardened ever so slightly, and she grimaced. &quot;Look, I know you&#39;ve probably got sensitive material you have to deal with. And you think I&#39;m just being a nosy reporter type. And, well, to an extent I am. But I&#39;m happy to write a story about a homeless guy being attacked by hoods. I just want to know, for myself, what sort of work are you really involved in? If we&#39;re... I mean, if this... you and me meeting up again like this, if it&#39;s what it feels like, then I want to know.&quot;</p> <p> Pablo sat quietly for a long moment.</p> <p> <em>Look at the time; I&#39;ve kept you up too late, already.</em></p> <p> He looked into her eyes and at her face and the soft curls of her hair on her shoulder and remembered what it smelled like in the cab.</p> <p> <em>I&#39;m sorry, that&#39;s classified. I&#39;m sure you&#39;ll understand.</em></p> <p> He watched the steam from her coffee curling past her face and realized she was holding her breath.</p> <p> <em>We have just built this bridge, Alison, do you want to burn it so soon?</em></p> <p> &quot;Alison, if I tell you: am I telling you...or the reporter in you?&quot;</p> <p> <em>Damn you for an idiot, Alison Patricia Scruggs</em>, she berated herself. She let out her breath slowly, her lungs beginning to burn from holding it for that interminable pause while she watched an entire world of possibilities hang by a thread.</p> <p> She reached over and laid her hand on his where it rested on the table. &quot;You know what?<br /> As long as you have to ask that question, I don&#39;t need to know that badly. Please, just tell me that you&#39;re not doing anything that&#39;s going to put you in danger. Well, no more than any cop does, that is.&quot;</p> <p> &quot;The mission is to enforce the laws, preserve the peace, reduce fear, and provide for a safe environment,&quot; he said soberly. &quot;But there are ... obligations that come with that mission that I can&#39;t really talk about with you. Not right now anyways. It&#39;s good work though, Alison, just like it always has been.&quot;</p> <p> &quot;I don&#39;t doubt that for a second, not with you.&quot;</p> <p> &quot;I never thought you did. But part of <em>my</em> mission includes secrets. For what it&#39;s worth, a &#39;Code 77&#39; isn&#39;t my secret; it belongs to a federal agency. It&rsquo;s a pre-arranged message. It means &#39;I&#39;ll be in later to sign the paperwork.&#39; Really.&quot;</p> <p> &quot;Sure it is,&quot; Alison rejoindered with a sly grin, lightening her tone to turn it into more of a joke. &quot;Ooh, I know. You&#39;re Mulder and you&#39;re looking for aliens.&quot;</p> <p> He stared at her for a beat, &quot;That&#39;s a science fiction reference, isn&#39;t it? Sorry, I never got into it much. Just hopeless, I guess. I don&#39;t suppose your appreciation for modern art has improved either, has it?&quot;</p> <p> Alison shook her head. &quot;Nope. I may have to tie you down and force you to watch <em>Firefly</em> in return for you dragging me to a gallery.&quot;</p> <p> He stood up and walked over to hold her shoulders, &quot;I want to try again. We have to remember who we are and discover who we&#39;ve become. It isn&#39;t like starting over, it&#39;s like...&quot; He glanced at his watch. &quot;It&rsquo;s like midnight. It&#39;s tomorrow already. Time to start a new day.&quot;</p> </p> http://unlimitedi.net/node/3363#comments Author:David Author:Heather Character:Alison Scruggs Character:Juan Pablo Sandoval Location:Greenwich Village Location:Slainte Thu, 13 Jan 2011 12:47:50 +0000 Heather 3363 at http://unlimitedi.net 18:40 "Meredith meets Cadee at Slainte" http://unlimitedi.net/node/3315 <p><p> <span lang="EN-GB"><span lang="EN"><span style="font-weight:bold"><span style="font-style:italic">Slainte Bar - Tuesday 6:40pm</span></span></span></span></p> <p> <span lang="EN-GB"><span lang="EN">She was doodling. That was never a good sign. </span></span></p> <p> <span lang="EN-GB"><span lang="EN">Meredith sighed and took a sip from her soda, stealing a furtive glance at the rest of the patrons of the Slainte Bar. It was still early, so hardly surprising that the current occupants were slim pickin&rsquo;s indeed. She wasn&rsquo;t in the habit of coming to bars on her own. No that wasn&rsquo;t true. She <span style="font-style:italic">did</span> go to bars on her own, but it wasn&rsquo;t for the obvious reason. Slainte was a cop bar, usually a very crowded one. Meredith had learnt a long time ago that the best place to sniff out a story was here, where some of the city&rsquo;s finest came to chill out, to blow off some steam after another lousy shift and exchange stories with their buddies. And if a budding journalist just happened to overhear something juicy&hellip; well, two birds with one stone and all that. </span></span></p> <p> <span lang="EN-GB"><span lang="EN">But tonight was going about as well as a bacon-sandwich buffet at a bar mitzvah. So far, the best gossip she&rsquo;d heard was that someone had broken Detective Hendrickson&rsquo;s coffee cup whilst trying to trick shot it into his in-tray. Hardly front page news unless this Detective Hendrickson harboured a few homicidal tendencies and was overly fond of <span style="font-style:italic">that</span> particular mug. </span></span></p> <p> <span lang="EN-GB"><span lang="EN">Meredith shook her head, eying the bowl of chilli fries she&rsquo;d ordered, picking at the melted cheese and drawing on every ounce of willpower she possessed not to just shove them into her mouth by the handful. Hunger gnawed at her stomach, stronger than she&rsquo;d ever felt it before. It didn&rsquo;t matter what she ate lately, it was never enough and it never satisfied her insatiable hunger. Maybe there was something wrong with her? </span></span></p> <p> <span lang="EN-GB"><span lang="EN-GB">&ldquo;You know, we have meatier treats than those,&rdquo; Cadee said as she approached the table. At the girl&rsquo;s confused look, she added. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m sorry, but I just heard your belly growl&hellip; and that&rsquo;s not allowed at the Sl&agrave;inte.&rdquo;</span></span></p> <p> <span lang="EN-GB"><span lang="EN-GB">Cadee had a rule not to bother clients who looked like they wanted to be left alone, chat with the ones that looked chatty, and even slightly flirt with the flirty ones. No wonder she was the better tipped girl in the bar. She could manage herself well in most bar-related situations.</span></span></p> <p> <span lang="EN-GB"><span lang="EN-GB">Now, this girl, she had seen her several times before, and she was the &lsquo;leave alone&rsquo; kind. She was usually working with her laptop or writing in some notebook, probably a student or a writer, or maybe a journalist. However, this afternoon she looked distracted, perhaps even&hellip; unhappy?</span></span></p> <p> <span lang="EN-GB"><span lang="EN-GB">&ldquo;Maybe a hamburger? Or a chicken salad? You won&rsquo;t be disappointed, we have the best in town.&rdquo; Cadee winked at the brunette and added, &ldquo;my recipe.&rdquo;</span></span></p> <p> <span lang="EN-GB"><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-style:italic">*Or maybe a great big fat steak, extra rare&hellip;*</span> Meredith almost swivelled on her stool as another waitress emerged from the kitchen with a well loaded plate. Unfortunately, her budget didn&rsquo;t run to such extravagances, besides, she had a set later that night and a full stomach didn&rsquo;t sit well with a vigorous dance routine. </span></span></p> <p> <span lang="EN-GB"><span lang="EN-GB">Meredith looked up and smiled at the waitress. She&rsquo;d seen her working here most nights, in fact, she was probably the main attraction for most of the regulars. With her long golden locks and bronzed skin, she looked like she&rsquo;d be more at home in a Californian beach bar than an Irish theme pub in New York. </span></span></p> <p> <span lang="EN-GB"><span lang="EN-GB">&ldquo;I&rsquo;m sure it is,&rdquo; she said, laying a hand self-consciously over her stomach to try and stifle any further protests. &ldquo;But I&rsquo;m good. Thanks.&rdquo; </span></span></p> <p> <span lang="EN-GB"><span lang="EN-GB">&ldquo;You&rsquo;re the paying customer here,&rdquo; Cadee shook her head feigning sorrow, and then smiled. &ldquo;Name&rsquo;s Cadee, if you need anything else, just call me.&rdquo;</span></span></p> <p> <span lang="EN-GB"><span lang="EN-GB">She turned to leave, when, like in a second thought, she went back to the table, put the back of her hand to the bowl of chilli and held it there for a second. She almost lost her train of thought when she inhaled, but recovered quickly. &ldquo;These are cold. Allow me to bring you another order. Hot this time.&rdquo;</span></span></p> <p> <span lang="EN-GB"><span lang="EN">Was this girl pitching for Employee of the Month or what? Not that it mattered, food was food after all, and hot food was even better. Meredith nodded gratefully, now if only this girl knew about some secret government conspiracy or plot to assassinate the president. <span style="font-style:italic">*Yeah, right&hellip;*</span></span></span></p> <p> <span lang="EN-GB"><span lang="EN">Thankfully the girl - Cadee, didn&rsquo;t take the cold offerings with her as she left in the direction of the kitchen. Meredith grabbed her fork and shovelled in a couple of mouthfuls - just in case. She knew restaurants like this, they&rsquo;d only throw it in the garbage and she was so fucking hungry&hellip; </span></span></p> <p> <span lang="EN-GB"><span lang="EN">She was licking cold chilli from her fingers when she returned, another bowl of steaming hot fries and chilli balanced expertly on a tray. The smell was enough to make Meredith&rsquo;s stomach start growling again. Cadee smiled, her whole face brightening from her liquid brown eyes to her rosebud lips. Christ she was like an angel or something&hellip; <span style="font-style:italic">*I wonder if she&rsquo;s single&hellip; Gail would literally fall panting at this girl&rsquo;s feet.*</span></span></span></p> <p> <span lang="EN-GB"><span lang="EN">&ldquo;Thanks, you really didn&rsquo;t have to&hellip; but thanks.&rdquo; Meredith felt her cheeks flush as she saw Cadee&rsquo;s eyes wander to the practically empty bowl. She probably expected a tip or something? Or maybe there was something else you were supposed to say when you got brought an extra hot bowl of chilli fries gratis. Meredith had always been a bit of a misfit when it came to social niceties and all that. Which was probably why she&rsquo;d swapped waitressing for stripping. At least if she ran out of things to say she could always get her tits out. </span></span></p> <p> <span lang="EN-GB"><span lang="EN">Shrugging off her hoodie, Meredith hung it on the back of the bar stool. It was getting hotter in here or maybe it was just the chilli? &ldquo;You&hellip; must be, what? Employee of the Month?&rdquo; </span></span></p> <p> <span lang="EN-GB"><span lang="EN-GB">Cadee blushed as she noticed she had been too intense. But her sense of smell seldom betrayed her, and she had sniffed something strange in the girl. And she was hungry. And now that she had taken off her sweater, she could see a bandage on her arm. Left forearm; like a self-defence wound. She frowned, not liking the possibilities. What had Sandoval mentioned about a werewolf running free in the city?</span></span></p> <p> <span lang="EN-GB"><span lang="EN-GB">Forcing herself to smile, she bended a little towards the brunette, trying not to alarm her this time. Oh, yes. She definitely could smell wolf. She put her hand to her mouth, and mocked a whisper. &ldquo;Look at that girl over there? She&rsquo;s been Sl&agrave;inte&rsquo;s princess for two months. I&rsquo;m planning a coup d&rsquo;etat.&rdquo;</span></span></p> <p> <span lang="EN-GB"><span lang="EN-GB">&ldquo;Well if you need a recommendation&hellip;&rdquo; Meredith smiled but pulled back a little as Cadee moved closer. It hadn&rsquo;t been an intentional reaction, though it seemed entirely natural considering the invasion of personal space. &ldquo;Um&hellip;&rdquo; she held her hand out awkwardly, &ldquo;I&rsquo;m Meredith.&rdquo;</span></span></p> <p> <span lang="EN-GB"><span lang="EN-GB">Cadee immediately took a step back, she had already learnt what she intended by the proximity; now she had to think what to do. She took Meredith&rsquo;s hand and shook it, smiling, while she did some math in her head. Last full moon had been when&hellip; a whole fortnight ago? If she wasn&rsquo;t mistaken, this girl had not had her first change yet. *Of course she didn&rsquo;t, she&rsquo;s just been bitten, * she told herself. *And probably she doesn&rsquo;t have a clue on what&rsquo;s happening to her. * How much till next full moon, ten days? She needed to think about it.</span></span></p> <p> <span lang="EN-GB"><span lang="EN-GB">&ldquo;Nice to meet you, Meredith. I&rsquo;ve seen you around, do you live close by?&rdquo;</span></span></p> <p> <span lang="EN-GB"><span lang="EN"><span style="font-style:italic">*Oh crap*</span> Figures this&rsquo;d be the one time her gaydar was actually working. Was accepting extra fries and shaking hands flirting in the lesbian world? Gail would never forgive her. </span></span></p> <p> <span lang="EN-GB"><span lang="EN">&ldquo;No, I mean, yeah, I live in the city - Lower East Side.&rdquo; The words were out before she could even think of an acceptable lie. <span style="font-style:italic">*What did you tell her that for!? Oh come on, it&lsquo;s not like the cute blonde waitress is gonna stalk me. Anyway, what&lsquo;s she gonna do? Feed me to death?*</span> Or give her exceptional service all night long&hellip;</span></span></p> <p> <span lang="EN-GB"><span lang="EN">&ldquo;Actually I&rsquo;m a student.&rdquo; <span style="font-style:italic">*Why are you still talking? Have you turned dyke too?*</span> </span></span></p> <p> <span lang="EN-GB"><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-style:italic">*Oh, my God, she so thinks I&rsquo;m hitting on her.*</span> Cadee thought, watching the girl&rsquo;s obvious agitation. And no wonder, in her eagerness to learn more about the girl, she may actually shoo her away. She would have laughed if it weren&rsquo;t so damn important that she kept track of Meredith. She couldn&rsquo;t possibly approach her with the real reasons for her interest now.</span></span></p> <p> <span lang="EN-GB"><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-style:italic">*Sure, what would you tell her&hellip; by the way, that wound you have, it was a werewolf. Expect some serious hair growth in about ten days or so.*</span> No way, the girl wouldn&rsquo;t believe her until she started experiencing more drastic changes, and even then, it was doubtful she did.</span></span></p> <p> <span lang="EN-GB"><span lang="EN-GB">Feigning a blush &ndash; and thanking her complexion that allowed her to do it, Cadee laughed lightly. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m sorry, Meredith, I know how I sounded. Sometimes I tend to be over friendly. I hope you didn&rsquo;t think I was hitting on you&hellip; nothing could turn me away from men.&rdquo; She sighed, &ldquo;it&rsquo;s been a slow evening and I was pretty bored, to be honest.&rdquo;</span></span></p> <p> <span lang="EN-GB"><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-style:italic">*Sure, because why else would you be talking to me. Damn, girl, has it been so long since you made a friend you&rsquo;ve forgotten how?*</span> Which was a stupid question in itself considering she&rsquo;d never known how in the first place. Besides which, Cadee was a waitress, she was only being friendly because she was paid to, because it meant bigger tips. Meredith knew all about that.</span></span></p> <p> <span lang="EN-GB"><span lang="EN-GB">&ldquo;Pity.&rdquo; Her eyes widened as she realised what she&rsquo;d said, then she couldn&rsquo;t help laughing. &ldquo;I mean&hellip; I have a friend, she would have liked you. Still would&hellip; she doesn&rsquo;t usually let little things like sexual orientation get in the way. Says it&rsquo;s all part of the challenge.&rdquo; She shrugged, taking up the bowl of largely ignored fries and loading up a forkful. </span></span></p> <p> <span lang="EN-GB"><span lang="EN-GB">The food eased her anxiety, as did the aimless chatter. A cigarette would have been even better. God she hated sounding so dumb around strangers. She&rsquo;d have to work on it, after all, a reporter had to be able to talk the truth out of anyone. </span></span></p> <p> <span lang="EN-GB"><span lang="EN-GB">&ldquo;It&rsquo;s quiet tonight,&rdquo; she added between mouthfuls. &ldquo;Not many uniforms.&rdquo;</span></span></p> <p> <span lang="EN-GB"><span lang="EN-GB">&ldquo;Still early. The S.C.U.s don&rsquo;t appear till ten, at least. Always hungry, those ones.&rdquo; Cadee answered, relieved that they had resorted to easy conversation.</span></span></p> <p> <span lang="EN-GB"><span lang="EN-GB">&ldquo;You know, I have a friend who may like your friend&hellip;&rdquo; and then she laughed, for real this time. &ldquo;If she hears me, I&rsquo;m dead meat. She&rsquo;s always trying to set me up. Is yours anything like that?&rdquo; <span style="font-style:italic">*Specially if she learns I&rsquo;m turning her gay*</span></span></span></p> <p> <span lang="EN-GB"><span lang="EN-GB">&ldquo;Not exactly,&rdquo; Meredith grinned at the thought of Gail, she&rsquo;d been her best friend - her <span style="font-style:italic">only</span> friend, all through college. They&rsquo;d likely be friends for the rest of their lives, in fact they joked about being a couple of gin soaked old broads in Fort Lauderdale, reminding each other to take their pills and spending all their pension on a Harley. &ldquo;She thinks men are a waste of breathable oxygen, she keeps trying to turn me on to the virtues of girl on girl.&rdquo; </span></span></p> <p> <span lang="EN-GB"><span lang="EN-GB">&ldquo;But you&rsquo;re probably as set in your ways as I am, right?&rdquo; She took an appreciative look at Meredith and nodded to herself. She was a beautiful girl, slender and full &lsquo;in all the right places&rsquo; at the same time, great eyes and full lips. She sighed. &ldquo;I love men, but&hellip; they are childish. Have yet to find one who wouldn&rsquo;t wish to have a Wii-girl instead of a real one. But when I do&hellip; God help him.&rdquo;</span></span></p> <p> <span lang="EN-GB"><span lang="EN-GB">Meredith nodded, sipping more of her soda. She couldn&rsquo;t imagine Cadee would have much trouble holding a guy&rsquo;s attention, even one with a serious Lara Croft obsession. She was feisty and confident and gorgeous and must have a date for every day of the week. But then most men were too dumb to see the difference between reality and fantasy- </span></span></p> <p> <span lang="EN-GB"><span lang="EN-GB">&ldquo;Oh shit!&rdquo; she stood up so suddenly she nearly spilt what was left of her soda. Glancing at the clock she began collecting her things, stuffing her notebook into her bag and scarfing down the rest of the chilli fries. &ldquo;Damn it, sorry, I&rsquo;m gonna be late for work&hellip;&rdquo;</span></span></p> <p> <span lang="EN-GB"><span lang="EN-GB">&ldquo;No worries. I&rsquo;m not going anywhere, we&rsquo;ll probably chat again. Pleasure to meet you, really,&rdquo; she said, smiling, and this time she was serious. She liked Meredith and she&rsquo;d do whatever was in her power to help her. She was about to face pretty difficult times.</span></span></p> <p> <span lang="EN-GB"><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-style:italic">*I can help her, I must.*</span> She said to herself, and that made her feel a little better.</span></span></p> <p> <span lang="EN-GB"><span lang="EN-GB">&ldquo;Er&hellip; sure,&rdquo; Meredith pulled her sweater back over her head before securing her bag on her shoulder. She wasn&rsquo;t really used to people being so openly friendly, but Cadee seemed nice enough, at any rate she wasn&rsquo;t likely to turn psycho on her. &ldquo;It was nice to meet you too. I&rsquo;ll see you around&hellip; I guess.&rdquo;</span></span></p> <p> <span lang="EN-GB"><span lang="EN-GB">&quot;You bet,&quot; Cadee said under her breath, watching her go</span></span></p> </p> http://unlimitedi.net/node/3315#comments Author:Ana Author:Louisa Character:Cadee Cloud Character:Meredith Bell Location:Greenwich Village Location:Slainte Sat, 08 Jan 2011 02:21:06 +0000 Meredith Bell 3315 at http://unlimitedi.net Something Wicked This Way Comes http://unlimitedi.net/Season1/Intro <p><p style="background: url(&quot;http://unlimitedi.net/sites/default/files/newYorkByNight.png&quot;) no-repeat scroll 0% 0% transparent; height:140px; overflow:hidden;"> <br />&nbsp;<br /> &nbsp;<br /> &nbsp;<br /> &nbsp;<br /> &nbsp;<br /> &nbsp;<br /> &nbsp;<br /> &nbsp;<br /> &nbsp;<br /> &nbsp; &nbsp;</p> <p> <span style="font-weight:bold">2021-05-10 15:29 - Monday<br /> Prologue<br /> Greenwich Village&ndash; Alison&rsquo;s Apartment</span></p> <p> The shoes were always the last items that Alison donned when she was dressing for Lucinda. Right up to the shoes, she still felt like herself, albeit in an outfit that revealed more flesh than she was comfortable exposing. She would catch sight of herself in the mirror as she padded about in her stockings and it was all still make-believe, like she was dressing for a fancy dress party. Applying the rich, colourful makeup and deep red lipstick would begin the first feelings of &ldquo;being Lucinda&rdquo;, as she called it, somewhere deep within her. But it was the shoes that brought Lucinda to life, every time.</p> <p> Strapping on the spiky heels, Alison slowly straightened and regarded herself in the mirror. The shoes altered her stance, accentuating her already ample bosom and thrusting her bottom backwards. &ldquo;Hello, Lucinda,&rdquo; she murmured.</p> <p> Since the success of her supernatural urban fantasies, Lucinda Graves had become more and more a part of Alison&rsquo;s life. This evening, for instance, was devoted to one in a series of book signings for her sixth novel in the Darque Nights series. The smouldering vampire prince Donatien Darque had made her a wealthy woman, and Lucinda was a price she was all too willing to pay. She could only imagine how fast the series would have sunk without trace had it been the name Alison Scruggs on the cover.</p> <p> Casting one last glance about her spacious apartment to ensure that everything was in order, she grabbed her purse and left to go downstairs and meet the limousine that her agent had arranged for her, as usual. What she found was her driver waiting for her with an apologetic expression.</p> <p> &ldquo;Sorry, Miss. I had to park down a ways. It&rsquo;s only a block, but&hellip;&rdquo;</p> <p> Alison smiled her best Lucinda smile at him, all promise and glistening red lips. &ldquo;Never mind. You go ahead and get the car ready, I&rsquo;ll catch up.&rdquo; He hesitated and she repeated, &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t mind, really. It&rsquo;s only a block.&rdquo;</p> <p> He ducked his head and led the way down the pavement. Alison took her time, grateful for the extra few minutes to get properly into Lucinda&rsquo;s skin. She let the shoes force her walk into something graceful, hips swaying with each step. She could see the driver was already standing by the limousine on the next corner, but a trio of voices made her pause.</p> <p> &ldquo;Look, a girl known by many names.&rdquo;</p> <p> &ldquo;Like you.&rdquo;</p> <p> &ldquo;Or you.&rdquo;</p> <p> &ldquo;But not like us.&rdquo;</p> <p> Alison turned to look at the owners of those voices. Three women sat on the pavement, their age impossible to tell under layers of tattered clothing. The first thing that crossed Alison&rsquo;s mind was to wonder why they wore so many clothes on such a warm May afternoon. Something about the trio made her flesh stand up in goosebumps.</p> <p> &ldquo;She likes to tell tales, this one with the ugly name.&rdquo;</p> <p> &ldquo;Then listen, she should.&rdquo;</p> <p> &ldquo;I beg your pardon?&rdquo; Alison said. &ldquo;How do you&ndash;&rdquo;</p> <p> The three women all turned their attention Alison, though they continued to babble as if she wasn&rsquo;t there. She found herself rooted to the spot as they spoke, despite her urge to leave these crazy women behind.</p> <p> &ldquo;A deal.&rdquo;</p> <p> &ldquo;A curse.&rdquo;</p> <p> &ldquo;A murder,&rdquo; the last one cackled.</p> <p> &ldquo;And who is to guard the kingdom?&rdquo;</p> <p> &ldquo;The one with the ugly name?&rdquo;</p> <p> &ldquo;I think not,&rdquo; the other snorted.</p> <p> &ldquo;At least, not alone.&rdquo;</p> <p> Unexpectedly, the one in the middle made a sickening phlegmy noise, before spitting on the pavement. To Alison&rsquo;s disgust the three began to fixate on the ground where the loogy had hit.</p> <p> &ldquo;A whore.&rdquo;</p> <p> &ldquo;A knight.&rdquo;</p> <p> &ldquo;A tiger caged!&rdquo;</p> <p> &ldquo;I see a lamb and a lion.&rdquo;</p> <p> &ldquo;The lamb is going to the slaughter?&rdquo;</p> <p> &ldquo;Where else?&rdquo;</p> <p> The woman who had spat scrunched up her face in consternation. &ldquo;We need something more.&rdquo;</p> <p> &ldquo;You know what it needs.&rdquo;</p> <p> The third woman dropped to her knees and began to&nbsp;search the area around them. &ldquo;This will do,&rdquo; she said, grabbing a small stick and handing it to her companion. The three began to laugh again as the woman took the pointy end and cut her finger. Little blood droplets fell to the ground, and once again the beggars were fascinated.</p> <p> It was too much for Alison. Shaking off the creepiness and repugnance, she fished in her purse and pulled out a $5 note. She let it drop into the bowl at the women&rsquo;s feet and continued on her way. The voices of the three followed after her.</p> <p> &ldquo;Like crystal.&rdquo;</p> <p> &ldquo;No doubt.&rdquo;</p> <p> &ldquo;By the pricking of my thumb, something wicked this way comes!&rdquo;</p> <p> Alison shuddered involuntarily, and as she approached the limousine her driver took her elbow.</p> <p> &ldquo;Is everything all right, Miss?&rdquo; he asked with concern. &ldquo;What was that?&rdquo; His nod indicated the trio of figures up the street.</p> <p> &ldquo;Oh, nothing really,&rdquo; Alison replied in a voice that she tried to make airy but held a small quaver. &ldquo;Just some beggars trying to perform a street play or something. Let&rsquo;s go; I don&rsquo;t want to be late.&rdquo;</p> <p> When the limousine pulled away from the kerb, Alison let out a small sigh and tried not to dwell on crazy street beggars. Although&hellip; maybe she could use them in her seventh book. She filed the incident under &lsquo;story ideas&rsquo; in her memory and turned her attention to the upcoming book signing, consciously banishing the last lingering feelings of dread the women had invoked.</p> <p> &nbsp;</p> </p><table id="attachments" class="sticky-enabled"> <thead><tr><th>Attachment</th><th>Size</th> </tr></thead> <tbody> <tr class="odd"><td><a href="http://unlimitedi.net/sites/default/files/newYorkByNight.png">newYorkByNight.png</a></td><td>247.15 KB</td> </tr> </tbody> </table> http://unlimitedi.net/Season1/Intro#comments Author:Heather Author:Shaun Character:Alison Scruggs Location:Greenwich Village Sat, 01 Jan 2011 16:55:31 +0000 Heather 3259 at http://unlimitedi.net