ftp.xmission.com

home *** CD-ROM | disk | FTP | other *** search

/ ftp.xmission.com / 2014.06.ftp.xmission.com.tar / ftp.xmission.com / pub / lists / arfic-l / archive / arfic-l.200111 < prev next >

Wrap

Internet Message Format | 2001-11-19 | 356KB

From: "Michele Bumbarger" <mbumbarger@hotmail.com> Subject: (arfic-l) Beta Needed Date: 01 Nov 2001 09:32:51 -0500 Fan fiction author currently seeking beta reader for a crossover over fan fiction story. This story is the sequel to "A Union of Souls" - an Angel/Buffy/New Series Tomorrow People crossover. Familiarity with the first story (and the vignettes in between) is helpful. Need a beta with a fast turn around time, willing to read approximately 20 parts. Author desperately wants this story posted in its entirety by the end of November, sooner if at all possible. Interested, please email me at mbumbarger@hotmail.com or angstqueen@hotmail.com ********************************************** Michele B. Archivist, Author & Webmistress Alternate Realities Fan Fiction Archive http://www.alternate-realities.net ********************************************** _________________________________________________________________ Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com/intl.asp - To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com" with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message. For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send "help" to the same address. Do not use quotes in your message. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "Anne Olsen" <anneo@paradise.net.nz> Subject: (arfic-l) Where The Winds Blow (0/04) Date: 03 Nov 2001 10:17:24 +1300 This is a multi-part message in MIME format. ------=_NextPart_000_0063_01C16450.BB84FA20 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="iso-8859-1" Content-Transfer-Encoding: quoted-printable Where The Winds Blow (0/04) by Anne Olsen AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is the fourth story in the 'Tears in Heaven' universe. It can be = read on it's own but mention is made of events happening in the previous = story 'All That Glitters.' THANKS: First and foremost to Kristin, resident evil beta reader and co = conspirator for her comments and encouragement, and for making me get = this as right as it can be. One day I'll get the hang of all this fun = American slang, promise. Special thanks also to Caroline, for her = support and help on some of the more fun descriptive bits *winks.=20 Thanks also to Wendy and Michele for nagging. DEDICATION: Happy birthday, TPFICT. This story is being posted in celebration of the = list's 6th birthday. DISCLAIMER: The characters of Jade Weston, Megabyte Damon, Kevin Wilson, Lisa Davis, = Adam Newman and Ami Jackson belong to Roger Damon Price, Thames/Tetra = and ITV Television. So do General William Damon and Colonel Masters (who = appear in name only) Alex and Jamie MacDonald belong to me and should not be used without = permission. The evil beta takes no responsibility for the crazy Kiwi spellings in = this fic. RATING: PG Telepathy is indicated by [ ] SUMMARY: A day of R&R gets messy when Kevin stumbles onto a Tomorrow Person who = doesn't want to be found. Feedback to anneo@paradise.net.nz ------=_NextPart_000_0063_01C16450.BB84FA20 Content-Type: text/html; charset="iso-8859-1" Content-Transfer-Encoding: quoted-printable <!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.0 Transitional//EN"> <HTML><HEAD> <META content=3D"text/html; charset=3Diso-8859-1" = http-equiv=3DContent-Type> <META content=3D"MSHTML 5.00.2614.3500" name=3DGENERATOR> <STYLE></STYLE> </HEAD> <BODY bgColor=3D#ffffff> <DIV> Where The Winds Blow (0/04) by Anne Olsen AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is the fourth story in the 'Tears in Heaven' universe. It can be = read on=20 it's own but mention is made of events happening in the previous story = 'All That=20 Glitters.' THANKS: First and foremost to Kristin, resident evil beta reader and co = conspirator=20 for her comments and encouragement, and for making me get this as right = as it=20 can be. One day I'll get the hang of all this fun American slang, = promise.=20 Special thanks also to Caroline, for her support and help on some of the = more=20 fun descriptive bits *winks. Thanks also to Wendy and Michele for nagging. DEDICATION: Happy birthday, TPFICT. This story is being posted in celebration of = the=20 list's 6th birthday. DISCLAIMER: The characters of Jade Weston, Megabyte Damon, Kevin Wilson, Lisa = Davis, Adam=20 Newman and Ami Jackson belong to Roger Damon Price, Thames/Tetra and ITV = Television. So do General William Damon and Colonel Masters (who appear = in name=20 only) Alex and Jamie MacDonald belong to me and should not be used without=20 permission. The evil beta takes no responsibility for the crazy Kiwi spellings in = this=20 fic. RATING: PG Telepathy is indicated by [ ] SUMMARY: A day of R&R gets messy when Kevin stumbles onto a Tomorrow = Person who=20 doesn't want to be found. Feedback to <A=20 href=3D"mailto:anneo@paradise.net.nz">anneo@paradise.net.nz</A></DIV>= </BODY></HTML> ------=_NextPart_000_0063_01C16450.BB84FA20-- - To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com" with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message. For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send "help" to the same address. Do not use quotes in your message. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "Anne Olsen" <anneo@paradise.net.nz> Subject: (arfic-l) Where The Winds Blow (1a/04) Date: 03 Nov 2001 16:11:15 +1300 This is a multi-part message in MIME format. ------=_NextPart_000_002F_01C16482.2A06CF60 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="iso-8859-1" Content-Transfer-Encoding: quoted-printable Where The Winds Blow (1a/04) by Anne Olsen Feedback to anneo@paradise.net.nz Disclaimers in Part 0 **** All the shadows blue, in the winter moon, The stars within the darkness, They remember you, and they sorrow too, With all the winds that blow. You were my soul and my silence, You were my hope, my lightness, You were the sword at my side. Through all the winds that blow. - Duncan Sheik (The Winds that Blow) **** February 2000 Chapter One Jade snuggled back against Megabyte and sighed contentedly. She felt him = run his hand through her long blonde hair, and turned as she felt a = gentle telepathic touch in her mind. Blue eyes met her own, as Megabyte stared at her with a grin on his = face, a few strands of hair falling forward over one eye. He reached up = and brushed those strands off his face, not noticing them returning as = though with a mind of their own. "Are you okay with this?" he asked her = out loud. He gazed hungrily at her and she could tell he wanted the same = thing she did. "You have to ask, Megabyte?" she asked. "After everything we've been = through, you have to ask?" Of course she was okay with it. She'd been = waiting for this moment for years, for the moment when he finally wanted = her as much as she had always wanted him. She stood there for a moment, = just looking at him. The slightly longer hair suited him, she decided, = even if it didn't want to always behave. Behave. Like she wanted any = part of him to behave? As if in answer he leant down and cradled her face in his hands, drawing = her close, his lips searching out hers. She put one hand up to his face, = feeling the slight roughness of his skin under her fingers as she traced = the outline of his cheek. As she breathed deeply taking in the smell of = his aftershave, Jade felt her heart pump faster. She'd been waiting so = long. She closed her eyes, opening her mouth slightly as she waited in = breathless anticipation for the sensation of his lips against hers. "Comfy there, Jade?" Was that a touch of sarcasm she could hear in = Megabyte's voice? Jade frowned, her fantasy world suddenly dissolving = into reality.=20 As she opened her eyes she noticed Kevin watching her. He turned his = gaze away hurriedly, studying the squares on the picnic rug intently, = and Jade slammed her mental shields down. Had Kevin picked up on what = she had been thinking? Picturing herself and Megabyte acting out one of = her favourite romantic novels maybe hadn't been a particularly bright = idea after all.=20 She felt her cheeks grow warm as she remembered where she'd been so = rudely interupted. Okay she knew Kevin wouldn't pry, but when her = emotions ran high, her shields didn't tend to be as strong as they = should be. Then of course there was that small matter of Kevin's = empathic abilities. "Your arm is sticking into me, kid," complained Megabyte, shifting her = weight against him. "It's keeping me awake." Jade turned and glared at = him, annoyed with herself as much as with him. Her gaze lingered on him, = hunting for any sign that he had an inkling of what she'd been thinking = about, no correct that, dreaming about. She took in again those = twinkling blue eyes, the way his hair tended to fall forward. She = resisted the urge to lean over and push it back so she could see his = face more clearly but thought he probably wouldn't appreciate the action = or the thought behind it .Stop it, Jade, she thought. You're just going = to make yourself feel worse. "You mean we've come here to this lovely park and all you want to do is = lie back and sleep?" she asked, trying to keep the disappointment out of = her voice as she edged over closer to Kevin and the picnic basket. = Suddenly the snuggling of her daydream and the way she had been leaning = against him in reality, her head nestled against his chest had seemed = poles apart. True they both involved the physical contact with him she = enjoyed but somehow that sense of romance had been lost the moment he'd = opened his mouth.=20 "Well I didn't see you complaining until a couple of minutes ago did I?" = Megabyte moved around, shifting his back against the tree trying to find = a comfortable spot. Of course she hadn't been complaining, she'd been = too busy enjoying her daydream. But she was hardly going to tell him = that was she? Jade watched him for another moment, noticing the way the = muscles between his shoulder blades rippled and flexed, each wiggle = stretching his thin shirt taut. Her eyes travelled over and up a bit. = Nice abs she thought appreciatively and those legs... Jade might have = gone about them for quite some time had she not caught Megabyte glaring = at her again. Flashing him a sweet smile, she mentally sighed and put = her eyes elsewhere. Kevin grinned and took another swig of orange juice. "Can't you two just = sit back and enjoy the peace and quiet of this place?" He propped = himself back on his left elbow, holding the bright red plastic cup with = his free hand, examining the liquid inside as his grin seemed to grow = even broader. Jade reached out, trying to get a hint of what he was = thinking about, as the air around her seemed to rise a few degrees. He = looked directly at her, strengthening his shields as he fixed an = innocent look on his face. How much had he overheard? Or more = importantly how much how Megabyte overheard?=20 "Nope," replied Megabyte, as Jade watched him carefully for any telltale = hints that he'd picked up on any of the fun thoughts that had been going = through her mind. She mentally crossed her fingers. With the way her = shields were at the moment it would be a miracle if he hadn't. Instead = to her relief, he grinned back at the smaller British boy with one of = those lop sided grins she loved so much. "There's only so much peace and = quiet a guy can take. Hey I'm all for taking it easy, but after a while = you start to miss."=20 "Having withdrawal symptoms from your computer already?" interrupted = Kevin, a smirk on his face. She had to wonder if that smirk was directed = at Megabyte's last comment or at her. 'Stop trying to read too much into = it,' she chastised herself. Kevin wasn't like that, she was just feeling = guilty, that was all. And honestly, should she feel guilty for = entertaining romantic thoughts about someone who felt the same way about = her? Since she had been shot, Megabyte had been acting differently = towards her, but it had been mainly when they had been alone, and they = weren't alone often enough for her liking. If only he'd show those = feelings in public. Sometimes she wondered what the hell was wrong with = him. Was he deliberately trying to annoy her, or did it just come = naturally? She knew damn well the feelings she had for him were reciprocated = because when he had reached out to her telepathically when she'd lay = dying in his arms a few short weeks before, she had heard all the = thoughts running through his mind. Megabyte had been so worried about = losing her that he had dropped the pretence of not caring. He had = feelings for her. Megabyte Damon actually had feelings for her. Jade = still had to pinch herself to make herself believe it hadn't been a = dream. After she had recovered, Megabyte had back-pedalled, refusing to admit = that what she had picked up on was true. "Of course I was worried about = you, squirt. So was everyone else," was about as much as she could get = out of him. Still the odd time the other Tomorrow People weren't around, = she saw the way he looked at her, the little gestures he made towards = her. A couple of times he'd come so close to saying what she was longing = to hear, but they'd been interrupted by the arrival of one of the others = and he'd backed off again. "It wasn't my fault Jade didn't want me to bring my laptop was it? Now = that's my idea of a good vacation." Megabyte raised one eyebrow in = typical Megabyte fashion, and wiggled his back against the tree again. = Jade deliberately looked away, before her thoughts wandered the way they = had the last time he'd done that. She reached over and poured herself a = drink of juice, enjoying the feel of the cold liquid seeping through the = plastic cup. As she put her lips to the cup, she looked over at Megabyte = again, watching the way the ends of his mouth curved up as he shot a = grin her way.=20 Jade took a long sip of her drink, trying to focus on how cold it was, = on how the droplets of moisture clung to the side of the cup as she = wiped them away with her fingers. She'd heard stories about how guys = took cold showers, maybe a cold drink might work the same way. It had = to, or this was going to be a very long afternoon.=20 "Well I like it." Kevin's statement shook Jade out of her reverie. = "Besides I thought a day out doing 'normal stuff' might be what we all = needed after the last week or so. I needed to get out in the fresh air = after a day in that hospital bed and I thought you guys could do with = the break as well."=20 Kevin's idea had been a good one, she had to admit that. Poor guy, with = what he'd overheard he must be feeling like the proverbial gooseberry. = She stifled a laugh. Hope springs eternal. "You mean a break from psycho bad guys?" asked Megabyte, stretching his = legs out in front of him and yawning. "Yeah I've had enough of that for = a while. At least until the next one comes along." "I'd prefer not to think about the 'next one,' as you so nicely put it," = complained Jade. The last one had been enough to last her a lifetime = thank you. It had nearly cost her life to be more precise. She shivered, = the thought giving her the effect she'd been trying to desperately = achieve for the past few minutes. Nothing like the memory of a near = death experience to bring you down to earth again. She decided to try = and get the conversation onto a more positive track, as she noticed = Kevin had suddenly become silent as he became lost in his own thoughts, = a look of regret or sadness fleeting over his features. "Kevin's right. = It's lovely here, and what's more it's summer, not like at home." "Summer? Really? I hadn't noticed." Megabyte leaned back and closed his = eyes, shading his face against the sun with his hand. He looked so = peaceful sitting there in the half shade of the tree, stretching out = those long legs as though he hadn't a care in the world. It wasn't fair. = If only he would come out and show her how he felt she could be sitting = snuggled up close to him with his arms around her. She rolled her eyes. = Guys, sheesh. What was it with them and that sort of stuff anyway? Kevin grinned. "Don't waste your breath, Jade. Sit back and enjoy = yourself. That's what I'm planning on doing." Jade smiled at him, grateful for the support. Of course Kevin knew what = she was feeling. Even if he hadn't read her mind, he was a powerful = empath. No way could he miss picking up on the feelings she'd been = trying to hide for most of the time they'd been here. Hell, for most of = the time he'd known her if truth be known. By the time Kevin had = reappeared on the scene she'd been well and truly smitten by the = American. Jade glanced behind her, making sure Megabyte had drifted off to sleep, = and tried to get mind back on track. Back to what she'd been trying to = get up the nerve to talk about over the last few days. "Kevin, can I = talk to you about something?" She pulled at a few blades of grass to = hide her nervousness, marvelling not for the first time at how green = everything was in this country. The sky was so blue and clear too, she = thought idly as she watched the white clouds chase each other across the = sky. It was lovely and warm, but not too hot. In the distance she could = hear children yelling excitedly to each other as they splashed each = other in the river at the far end of the picnic area. Maybe she could = talk the boys into a swim before they left. A swim. She gazed over at = Megabyte again, realising that that one thought had successfully ruined = all her great intentions of keeping her mind on the task at hand. = Swimmers, or better yet a speedo. Grrr. She felt a large grin work = itself over her face, and hastily took another sip of the drink she'd = put down earlier. Count to ten, Jade, count to ten really slowly. ******* to be continued in next post........sorry guys, first time I tried this = it bounced for being too long. *crosses fingers ------=_NextPart_000_002F_01C16482.2A06CF60 Content-Type: text/html; charset="iso-8859-1" Content-Transfer-Encoding: quoted-printable <!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.0 Transitional//EN"> <HTML><HEAD> <META content=3D"text/html; charset=3Diso-8859-1" = http-equiv=3DContent-Type> <META content=3D"MSHTML 5.00.2614.3500" name=3DGENERATOR> <STYLE></STYLE> </HEAD> <BODY bgColor=3D#ffffff> <DIV> Where The Winds Blow (1a/04) by Anne Olsen Feedback to <A=20 href=3D"mailto:anneo@paradise.net.nz">anneo@paradise.net.nz</A> Disclaimers in Part 0 **** All the shadows blue, in the winter moon, The stars within the darkness, They remember you, and they sorrow too, With all the winds that blow. You were my soul and my silence, You were my hope, my lightness, You were the sword at my side. Through all the winds that blow. - Duncan Sheik (The Winds that Blow) **** February 2000 Chapter One Jade snuggled back against Megabyte and sighed contentedly. She felt = him run=20 his hand through her long blonde hair, and turned as she felt a gentle=20 telepathic touch in her mind. Blue eyes met her own, as Megabyte stared at her with a grin on his = face, a=20 few strands of hair falling forward over one eye. He reached up and = brushed=20 those strands off his face, not noticing them returning as though with a = mind of=20 their own. "Are you okay with this?" he asked her out loud. He gazed = hungrily at=20 her and she could tell he wanted the same thing she did. "You have to ask, Megabyte?" she asked. "After everything we’ve = been through,=20 you have to ask?" Of course she was okay with it. She'd been waiting for = this=20 moment for years, for the moment when he finally wanted her as much as = she had=20 always wanted him. She stood there for a moment, just looking at him. = The=20 slightly longer hair suited him, she decided, even if it didn't want to = always=20 behave. Behave. Like she wanted any part of him to behave? As if in answer he leant down and cradled her face in his hands, = drawing her=20 close, his lips searching out hers. She put one hand up to his face, = feeling the=20 slight roughness of his skin under her fingers as she traced the outline = of his=20 cheek. As she breathed deeply taking in the smell of his aftershave, = Jade felt=20 her heart pump faster. She'd been waiting so long. She closed her eyes, opening her mouth slightly as she waited in = breathless=20 anticipation for the sensation of his lips against hers… "Comfy there, Jade?" Was that a touch of sarcasm she could hear in = Megabyte’s=20 voice? Jade frowned, her fantasy world suddenly dissolving into reality. = As she opened her eyes she noticed Kevin watching her. He turned his = gaze=20 away hurriedly, studying the squares on the picnic rug intently, and = Jade=20 slammed her mental shields down. Had Kevin picked up on what she had = been=20 thinking? Picturing herself and Megabyte acting out one of her favourite = romantic novels maybe hadn’t been a particularly bright idea after = all. She felt her cheeks grow warm as she remembered where she'd been so = rudely=20 interupted. Okay she knew Kevin wouldn’t pry, but when her = emotions ran high,=20 her shields didn’t tend to be as strong as they should be. Then of = course there=20 was that small matter of Kevin’s empathic abilities… "Your arm is sticking into me, kid," complained Megabyte, shifting = her weight=20 against him. "It’s keeping me awake." Jade turned and glared at = him, annoyed=20 with herself as much as with him. Her gaze lingered on him, hunting for = any sign=20 that he had an inkling of what she'd been thinking about, no correct = that,=20 dreaming about. She took in again those twinkling blue eyes, the way his = hair=20 tended to fall forward. She resisted the urge to lean over and push it = back so=20 she could see his face more clearly but thought he probably wouldn't = appreciate=20 the action or the thought behind it …Stop it, Jade, she thought. = You're just=20 going to make yourself feel worse. "You mean we’ve come here to this lovely park and all you want = to do is lie=20 back and sleep?" she asked, trying to keep the disappointment out of her = voice=20 as she edged over closer to Kevin and the picnic basket. Suddenly the = snuggling=20 of her daydream and the way she had been leaning against him in reality, = her=20 head nestled against his chest had seemed poles apart. True they both = involved=20 the physical contact with him she enjoyed but somehow that sense of = romance had=20 been lost the moment he'd opened his mouth. "Well I didn't see you complaining until a couple of minutes ago did = I?"=20 Megabyte moved around, shifting his back against the tree trying to find = a=20 comfortable spot. Of course she hadn't been complaining, she'd been too = busy=20 enjoying her daydream. But she was hardly going to tell him that was = she? Jade=20 watched him for another moment, noticing the way the muscles between his = shoulder blades rippled and flexed, each wiggle stretching his thin = shirt taut.=20 Her eyes travelled over and up a bit. Nice abs she thought = appreciatively and=20 those legs... Jade might have gone about them for quite some time had = she not=20 caught Megabyte glaring at her again. Flashing him a sweet smile, she = mentally=20 sighed and put her eyes elsewhere. Kevin grinned and took another swig of orange juice. "Can’t you = two just sit=20 back and enjoy the peace and quiet of this place?" He propped himself = back on=20 his left elbow, holding the bright red plastic cup with his free hand, = examining=20 the liquid inside as his grin seemed to grow even broader. Jade reached = out,=20 trying to get a hint of what he was thinking about, as the air around = her seemed=20 to rise a few degrees. He looked directly at her, strengthening his = shields as=20 he fixed an innocent look on his face. How much had he overheard? Or = more=20 importantly how much how Megabyte overheard? "Nope," replied Megabyte, as Jade watched him carefully for any = telltale=20 hints that he'd picked up on any of the fun thoughts that had been going = through=20 her mind. She mentally crossed her fingers. With the way her shields = were at the=20 moment it would be a miracle if he hadn't. Instead to her relief, he = grinned=20 back at the smaller British boy with one of those lop sided grins she = loved so=20 much. "There’s only so much peace and quiet a guy can take. Hey = I’m all for=20 taking it easy, but after a while you start to miss…" "Having withdrawal symptoms from your computer already?" interrupted = Kevin, a=20 smirk on his face. She had to wonder if that smirk was directed at = Megabyte's=20 last comment or at her. 'Stop trying to read too much into it,' she = chastised=20 herself. Kevin wasn't like that, she was just feeling guilty, that was = all. And=20 honestly, should she feel guilty for entertaining romantic thoughts = about=20 someone who felt the same way about her? Since she had been shot, = Megabyte had=20 been acting differently towards her, but it had been mainly when they = had been=20 alone, and they weren't alone often enough for her liking. If only he'd = show=20 those feelings in public. Sometimes she wondered what the hell was wrong = with=20 him. Was he deliberately trying to annoy her, or did it just come = naturally? She knew damn well the feelings she had for him were reciprocated = because=20 when he had reached out to her telepathically when she'd lay dying in = his arms a=20 few short weeks before, she had heard all the thoughts running through = his mind.=20 Megabyte had been so worried about losing her that he had dropped the = pretence=20 of not caring. He had feelings for her. Megabyte Damon actually had = feelings for=20 her. Jade still had to pinch herself to make herself believe it = hadn’t been a=20 dream. After she had recovered, Megabyte had back-pedalled, refusing to = admit that=20 what she had picked up on was true. "Of course I was worried about you, = squirt.=20 So was everyone else," was about as much as she could get out of him. = Still the=20 odd time the other Tomorrow People weren’t around, she saw the way = he looked at=20 her, the little gestures he made towards her. A couple of times he'd = come so=20 close to saying what she was longing to hear, but they'd been = interrupted by the=20 arrival of one of the others and he'd backed off again. "It wasn’t my fault Jade didn’t want me to bring my = laptop was it? Now that’s=20 my idea of a good vacation." Megabyte raised one eyebrow in typical = Megabyte=20 fashion, and wiggled his back against the tree again. Jade deliberately = looked=20 away, before her thoughts wandered the way they had the last time he'd = done=20 that. She reached over and poured herself a drink of juice, enjoying the = feel of=20 the cold liquid seeping through the plastic cup. As she put her lips to = the cup,=20 she looked over at Megabyte again, watching the way the ends of his = mouth curved=20 up as he shot a grin her way. Jade took a long sip of her drink, trying to focus on how cold it = was, on how=20 the droplets of moisture clung to the side of the cup as she wiped them = away=20 with her fingers. She'd heard stories about how guys took cold showers, = maybe a=20 cold drink might work the same way. It had to, or this was going to be a = very=20 long afternoon. "Well I like it." Kevin’s statement shook Jade out of her = reverie. "Besides I=20 thought a day out doing ‘normal stuff’ might be what we all = needed after the=20 last week or so. I needed to get out in the fresh air after a day in = that=20 hospital bed and I thought you guys could do with the break as well." = Kevin's idea had been a good one, she had to admit that. Poor guy, = with what=20 he'd overheard he must be feeling like the proverbial gooseberry. She = stifled a=20 laugh. Hope springs eternal. "You mean a break from psycho bad guys?" asked Megabyte, stretching = his legs=20 out in front of him and yawning. "Yeah I’ve had enough of that for = a while. At=20 least until the next one comes along." "I’d prefer not to think about the ‘next one,’ as = you so nicely put it,"=20 complained Jade. The last one had been enough to last her a lifetime = thank you.=20 It had nearly cost her life to be more precise. She shivered, the = thought giving=20 her the effect she'd been trying to desperately achieve for the past few = minutes. Nothing like the memory of a near death experience to bring you = down to=20 earth again. She decided to try and get the conversation onto a more = positive=20 track, as she noticed Kevin had suddenly become silent as he became lost = in his=20 own thoughts, a look of regret or sadness fleeting over his features. = "Kevin’s=20 right. It’s lovely here, and what’s more it’s summer, = not like at home." "Summer? Really? I hadn’t noticed." Megabyte leaned back and = closed his eyes,=20 shading his face against the sun with his hand. He looked so peaceful = sitting=20 there in the half shade of the tree, stretching out those long legs as = though he=20 hadn't a care in the world. It wasn't fair. If only he would come out = and show=20 her how he felt she could be sitting snuggled up close to him with his = arms=20 around her. She rolled her eyes. Guys, sheesh. What was it with them and = that=20 sort of stuff anyway? Kevin grinned. "Don’t waste your breath, Jade. Sit back and = enjoy yourself.=20 That’s what I’m planning on doing." Jade smiled at him, grateful for the support. Of course Kevin knew = what she=20 was feeling. Even if he hadn't read her mind, he was a powerful empath. = No way=20 could he miss picking up on the feelings she'd been trying to hide for = most of=20 the time they'd been here. Hell, for most of the time he'd known her if = truth be=20 known. By the time Kevin had reappeared on the scene she'd been well and = truly=20 smitten by the American. Jade glanced behind her, making sure Megabyte had drifted off to = sleep, and=20 tried to get mind back on track. Back to what she'd been trying to get = up the=20 nerve to talk about over the last few days. "Kevin, can I talk to you = about=20 something?" She pulled at a few blades of grass to hide her nervousness, = marvelling not for the first time at how green everything was in this = country.=20 The sky was so blue and clear too, she thought idly as she watched the = white=20 clouds chase each other across the sky. It was lovely and warm, but not = too hot.=20 In the distance she could hear children yelling excitedly to each other = as they=20 splashed each other in the river at the far end of the picnic area. = Maybe she=20 could talk the boys into a swim before they left. A swim. She gazed over = at=20 Megabyte again, realising that that one thought had successfully ruined = all her=20 great intentions of keeping her mind on the task at hand. Swimmers, or = better=20 yet a speedo. Grrr. She felt a large grin work itself over her face, and = hastily=20 took another sip of the drink she'd put down earlier. Count to ten, = Jade, count=20 to ten really slowly. ******* to be continued in next post........sorry guys, first time I tried = this it=20 bounced for being too long. *crosses = fingers</DIV></BODY></HTML> ------=_NextPart_000_002F_01C16482.2A06CF60-- - To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com" with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message. For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send "help" to the same address. Do not use quotes in your message. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "Anne Olsen" <anneo@paradise.net.nz> Subject: (arfic-l) Where The Winds Blow (1b/04) Date: 03 Nov 2001 16:12:03 +1300 This is a multi-part message in MIME format. ------=_NextPart_000_003A_01C16482.468175A0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="iso-8859-1" Content-Transfer-Encoding: quoted-printable Where The Winds Blow (1b/04) by Anne Olsen Feedback to anneo@paradise.net.nz Disclaimers in Part 0 **** "Yeah sure." Kevin smiled. "I sort of guessed there was something on = your mind.besides Megabyte that is." Besides Megabyte. Yes, that comment = summed it up didn't it?=20 Even though Kevin had his silly side, which mainly seemed to show itself = when he got involved in one of Megabyte's 'schemes', he was someone she = felt she could talk to. She knew she could always go to Adam or Ami if = needs be, but.well Kevin was her own age, and for some reason she tended = to use him as a bit of a sounding board. He always seemed to know what = to say, to be able to reassure her. Kevin was dependable. The fact that = he and Megabyte were close friends too, helped. After all, these days it = was mostly Megabyte she talked about. Poor Kevin, sometimes she felt = guilty prattling on to him the way she did. "I've been dreaming," Jade began, then paused. No. Dreaming wasn't quite = the right word. As she hunted for how to get across what she wanted to = without it sounding too weird, she noticed the little pile of grass in = front of her seemed to be growing. If she picked much more of the stuff, = she'd be leaving a marker for the world to see where she'd been sitting. = "Dreaming?" asked Kevin. "Everyone dreams, Jade." He drained the last of = his juice and started to examine the shiny green apple in his hand while = he waited for her to explain. Sure everyone dreams, she knew that, but = this was different, way different. Jade felt a wave of frustration wash = over her as she realised this wasn't going to be easy to explain without = giving away details she'd rather keep to herself. "I'm not sure dreaming is the right word to use exactly. When I close my = eyes and go to sleep, it's more like I'm dreaming other people's dreams, = rather than my own." Jade frowned. No that wasn't quite right, either. = Come on think, how could she explain this properly so that Kevin could = get the idea she was trying to put across? "Other people's dreams?" Kevin looked puzzled. "What makes you think = that?" He put down his apple, and gazed at her intently. He was wearing = that look which meant his curiosity was piqued, and once that happened = Jade knew he wouldn't leave it alone until he worked out what was going = on. She wouldn't be able to change the subject now, even if she wanted = to.=20 "Last night I dreamed I was in the middle of a scene from that film = Megabyte likes so much." Kevin shuddered, rolling his eyes. "'Attack of the Killer Cucumbers'?" = Funny how mentioning that film seemed to invoke the same response from = all the Tomorrow People. Jade shook her head, resisting the urge to giggle. "I said dream, not = nightmare. No, the other one. 'The Matrix'." "Maybe it was because you sat through it with him six times?" pointed = out Kevin. "I warned you about that at the time. Remember?" She seemed = to remember him watching it with them at few of those times too, come to = think of it. However now probably wasn't the time to mention that.=20 Jade nodded. "I know you did, Kevin. Believe me, I know. No the weird = thing about it was that Megabyte was there." "And that's weird in one of your dreams?" Kevin stifled a laugh, then = tried to look serious after seeing the look on Jade's face. 'Thanks, = Kevin.' Just how much had he seen of that daydream earlier? Jade felt = her colour rise again, and tried to ignore her growing embarrassment. = "Sorry, Jade. Go on." Kevin took a bite out of his apple, the crunch = sounding loud in the sudden silence between them as Jade wondered if she = was really doing the right thing sharing some of her more embarrassing = secrets.=20 She swallowed and spoke slowly, trying to collect her thoughts into some = semblance of order. "It's not the first time either, Kevin." She felt = herself blush, and spoke quickly trying to get the words out before she = lost her nerve. "I've been finding that if I think about someone when I = go to sleep I dream about them, or rather see what they are dreaming. = And before you say that's impossible, the night before last I dreamt = about Batman." She watched Kevin intently to see what his reaction would be to that = statement. He sat there for a moment, his apple seemingly forgotten and = she could see his mind ticking over. Yes, she thought that particular = bit of information might get him thinking. It had certainly been the = decider for her that the situation had got out of hand, and into the = very weird. "Yes that does sound more like something Megabyte would = dream about, not you. Nasty mental image that. I'm not going to ask what = it was he was doing in this dream. Knowing Megabyte, that's a scary = thought, really scary." Jade shuddered, remembering what had happened in that particular dream. = Scary was an understatement. She still couldn't believe that Megabyte = would actually dream about stuff like that. Over active imagination was = an understatement, to say nothing of overactive. Mind you, she couldn't = talk considering where her thoughts had been wandering lately. She = noticed Kevin watching her again, and decided to answer before her mind = went off on one of *those* tangents again. "You don't know the half of = it, Kevin. Dreaming about 'The Matrix' last night, that was much easier = to handle." "You were dreaming about 'The Matrix' last night?" Megabyte's mind = brushed briefly against her own and then withdrew as she turned to see = him watching her, an expression of annoyance on his face. She glared at = him for a moment, as she tried to ignore the questions racing through = her mind. How much had he overheard? What had she been thinking when = he'd eavesdropped on her thoughts? The nerve of him, sitting there = listening and then reading her mind. Who the hell did he think he was = anyway? "I thought you were asleep." She met his intense gaze, and tried not too = successfully to glare back. She could still get lost in those brilliant = blue eyes so easily, even if he had invaded her privacy. She sighed. = 'Weston, you've got it bad, you know that don't you?' She shifted = nervously, trying to ignore the guilt growing steadily within. She = hadn't done anything wrong, she told herself. It wasn't her fault he had = weird dreams. "Like anyone could sleep through that. Right, Jade." Megabyte frowned as = he repeated his last question, suddenly becoming serious. Serious = Megabyte. Uh oh. Not a good sign. He'd definitely heard more of the = conversation than he should. "You were dreaming about 'The Matrix' last = night?" Jade knew she was blushing, and mentally kicked herself. No way was she = going to admit she'd make a mistake. It wasn't as though she'd done it = on purpose or anything was it? She let her gaze linger on him for a = moment. God he was cute when he was serious. 'Jade, keep your mind on = the subject at hand.' Getting sidetracked now was so not the way to go. = "Well it's not surprising the amount of times I sat through the thing = with you is it?"=20 "I don't remember you having an interest in Batman movies." As Megabyte = glanced between herself and Kevin, it was becoming obvious that he'd = been awake a lot longer than he'd let on. Had he been listening in = deliberately? Come to think of it, had he been asleep at all, or just = making out he'd been? Come on, Jade, you don't think he'd really do that = do you? The thoughts chasing each other through her mind suddenly came = to a resounding halt. 'He wouldn't, would he?'=20 "You were supposed to be asleep!" Jade felt her cheeks grow even warmer. = How much of the conversation had he overheard? "Enough to know something weird is going on," Megabyte retorted. She = knew it! Damn him. After all that time she'd spent daydreaming about = him, he had to go and ruin it with a couple of well-chosen words. Why = did she even bother? "I never said that out loud," Jade realised. "Didn't anyone ever tell = you it was rude to eavesdrop on other people's thoughts?" She could = forget the fact he'd listened in once, hell she even did that herself, = totally unintentionally of course, but twice? Get real. Like she was = going to let him get away with that amount of crap. Who the hell did he = think he was, just casually listening in to what she'd been thinking = like that? "Right, Jade. You were practically broadcasting. I'm surprised Adam = didn't hear you over in Australia." Yeah right yourself, Megabyte. Like = Adam would be rude enough to actually be listening in. He was missing = the point, as per usual. Like she would be stupid enough to broadcast a = comment like that anyway? "So how come I felt you in my mind before?" "You're dreaming, Jade. And it sure sounds like you've had lots of = practice at that lately doesn't it?" Jade decided she didn't like that = sarcastic tone in Megabyte's voice. What a nerve. Don't play the = innocent with me, Marmaduke Damon. Why guys always had to twist things = around to put the blame elsewhere was beyond her. No way was she putting = up with that today. He could get stuffed. Kevin coughed. "So how long have you been having these dreams, Jade?" = Jade turned and looked at him, feeling guilty that she'd almost = forgotten he was there once Megabyte had started in on her. Poor Kevin. = His dark eyes reflected how much the redhead's words to her were = upsetting him too. It was times like this that she was so pleased that = she wasn't empathic. The vibes coming from the American must be = magnified one hundred fold for him, compared to what she was picking up = on. Damn Megabyte for listening in, she thought again. How dare he? Jade tried to ignore the vibes she could feel coming from Megabyte as = she answered. Hopefully he'd picked up on those last couple of thoughts. = Serve him right for being so rude. What was his problem anyway? It = wasn't as though she visited his dreams *that* often. "About a week I = suppose, maybe two. Ever since I was shot, come to think about it." Kevin nodded, looking thoughtful. "I had a feeling you were going to say = that. I think it might be a side effect of Max healing you. We don't = know much about their powers, remember." She wished she could be as calm = and unflappable as Kevin seemed in these situations. He always seemed so = in control. Maybe one day she'd have to ask him what his secret was. Megabyte snorted, his brow furrowing as he rolled his eyes upwards. "So = if Jade has this cool new dreamwalking power, my privacy has gone out = the window. Great."=20 Jade felt her temper flare. "I'm sure I have much better things to do = than dream about you every night." What was his big hang up about = privacy anyway? It wasn't as though his dreams were *that* interesting. = Well, yes they were, but no way was she going to tell him at this point. = Overacting just a tad wasn't he? Sheesh. "So why don't you go invade someone else's dreams then?" Jade noticed that Megabyte's face was turning an interesting shade of = red. Good. Maybe he was finally getting the idea through his thick skull = that she was annoyed with him. Uh oh. From the anger radiating from him, = she got the impression he was way angrier than she'd first thought. Why? = It wasn't as though she'd done this on purpose. If she had she could = understand the reaction. Maybe. But she hadn't and she had to get that = fact across to him before she had any hope of him seeing sense. "I didn't mean to, Megabyte. Honestly I didn't. I mean how was I to know = that if I looked at your picture as I was." Jade's voice tailed off as = she realised what she was saying. Not the brightest thing to come out = with. Like that little snippet of information was going to help. If = anything she had the feeling she'd just made the situation worse. "As you were what?" asked Megabyte. The redhead had risen to his feet = and was glaring at her. His eyes were unusually bright and Jade knew him = well enough to know the danger signs. When he got like this there was no = reasoning with him at all. "Come on, Megabyte. Don't you think you're over reacting just a tiny = bit?" One look at his face told Jade that last comment had been a big = mistake. She hurriedly answered his last question instead of waiting for = his reply to hers. "If I look at someone's picture as I go to sleep I = dream about them." There the whole story was out. He'd just have to deal = with it. "You mean you *invade* their dreams. Get it right, Jade, why don't = you?" Jade hated that tone in his voice; it really grated at her. How = could she have had all those romantic dreams about him? She must have = been crazy. He was behaving like a pig. It was times like this when she = could sympathise with Millie's stories of what it was actually like to = live under the same roof with him. "I'm only learning about this, okay. Give me a chance. I mean it's not = as though I'm doing it on purpose, is it?" Jade knew how weak that = excuse sounded and that he wouldn't buy it, even before it was out of = her mouth. But how could she explain something she didn't even = understand properly herself? Surely he must realise that? "Aren't you? Sure sounds that way to me." Megabyte kicked Kevin's = dropped half-eaten apple and watched it sail towards the concrete gas = barbecue. He turned to look at her again, and she saw a momentary look = of worry in his eyes, a look that was gone so fast that she wondered if = she had imagined it. "What if I promise not to do it again?" Maybe that would help to = reassure him. He's wondering what else I saw while I was in his dreams, = she realised. Jade knew that everyone had things they'd rather not share = with others, but this was ridiculous. Everyone needed to share his or = her problems somewhere, with someone. She wondered idly whom Megabyte = confided in when he needed to talk things through. "What makes you think I have problems?"=20 "Stop listening in on my thoughts. It's rude." Jade stared at him in = disbelief. He still didn't get it, did he? Here he was going on at her = about not respecting his privacy and he didn't even have the decency to = practice what he preached. As she hunted for words to help reassure him, = she idly wondered why she was even wasting her time trying. He was so = convinced he was right that he probably wasn't interested in any excuses = she might come up with. Anyway why the hell should she be feeling she = needed to excuse what she'd done? He was impossible. "Besides I didn't = mean problems as such, just the stuff you don't talk about much."=20 "Well I sure have a problem now that I didn't before, you listening in = on my dreams. Now that's what I call rude." Jade wondered if she would = ever learn that getting into an argument with Megabyte was so not the = way to go. All that seemed to happen is they went round in circles while = she dug herself deeper into a hole she couldn't climb out of. Still he = had started it, not her. She hadn't done anything wrong. "Kevin, what do you think?" Kevin would be able to calm Megabyte down, = Jade was sure. After all he seemed to understand the American Tomorrow = Person better than any of them. How he'd put up with Megabyte all these = years and stayed so calm was beyond her.=20 "Kevin?" Where the hell was he? Jade felt a twinge of guilt for an = instant. He'd been trying to help her and Megabyte had driven him away = with his ranting and raving. Typical. "Megabyte, did you see where Kevin = went?" "Maybe he got out while he still could?" suggested Megabyte in the tone = she was sure he reserved for the times he deliberately wanted to get up = her nose. Don't even try and play the innocent here, it is so not going = to wash this time. "It's not safe around here if you want any sort of = privacy, is it? Not even while you're asleep." "That's not fair and you know it!"=20 ******** End of Chapter One ------=_NextPart_000_003A_01C16482.468175A0 Content-Type: text/html; charset="iso-8859-1" Content-Transfer-Encoding: quoted-printable <!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.0 Transitional//EN"> <HTML><HEAD> <META content=3D"text/html; charset=3Diso-8859-1" = http-equiv=3DContent-Type> <META content=3D"MSHTML 5.00.2614.3500" name=3DGENERATOR> <STYLE></STYLE> </HEAD> <BODY bgColor=3D#ffffff> <DIV> Where The Winds Blow (1b/04) by Anne Olsen Feedback to <A=20 href=3D"mailto:anneo@paradise.net.nz">anneo@paradise.net.nz</A> Disclaimers in Part 0 **** "Yeah sure." Kevin smiled. "I sort of guessed there was something on = your=20 mind…besides Megabyte that is." Besides Megabyte. Yes, that = comment summed it up=20 didn't it? Even though Kevin had his silly side, which mainly seemed to show = itself when=20 he got involved in one of Megabyte’s ‘schemes’, he was = someone she felt she=20 could talk to. She knew she could always go to Adam or Ami if needs be, = but…well=20 Kevin was her own age, and for some reason she tended to use him as a = bit of a=20 sounding board. He always seemed to know what to say, to be able to = reassure=20 her. Kevin was dependable. The fact that he and Megabyte were close = friends too,=20 helped. After all, these days it was mostly Megabyte she talked about. = Poor=20 Kevin, sometimes she felt guilty prattling on to him the way she = did. "I’ve been dreaming," Jade began, then paused. No. Dreaming = wasn’t quite the=20 right word. As she hunted for how to get across what she wanted to = without it=20 sounding too weird, she noticed the little pile of grass in front of her = seemed=20 to be growing. If she picked much more of the stuff, she'd be leaving a = marker=20 for the world to see where she'd been sitting. "Dreaming?" asked Kevin. "Everyone dreams, Jade." He drained the last = of his=20 juice and started to examine the shiny green apple in his hand while he = waited=20 for her to explain. Sure everyone dreams, she knew that, but this was = different,=20 way different. Jade felt a wave of frustration wash over her as she = realised=20 this wasn't going to be easy to explain without giving away details = she'd rather=20 keep to herself. "I’m not sure dreaming is the right word to use exactly. When I = close my eyes=20 and go to sleep, it’s more like I’m dreaming other = people’s dreams, rather than=20 my own." Jade frowned. No that wasn't quite right, either. Come on = think, how=20 could she explain this properly so that Kevin could get the idea she was = trying=20 to put across? "Other people’s dreams?" Kevin looked puzzled. "What makes you = think that?"=20 He put down his apple, and gazed at her intently. He was wearing that = look which=20 meant his curiosity was piqued, and once that happened Jade knew he = wouldn't=20 leave it alone until he worked out what was going on. She wouldn't be = able to=20 change the subject now, even if she wanted to. "Last night I dreamed I was in the middle of a scene from that film = Megabyte=20 likes so much." Kevin shuddered, rolling his eyes. "'Attack of the Killer = Cucumbers'?" Funny=20 how mentioning that film seemed to invoke the same response from all the = Tomorrow People. Jade shook her head, resisting the urge to giggle. "I said dream, not = nightmare. No, the other one. 'The Matrix'." "Maybe it was because you sat through it with him six times?" pointed = out=20 Kevin. "I warned you about that at the time. Remember?" She seemed to = remember=20 him watching it with them at few of those times too, come to think of = it.=20 However now probably wasn't the time to mention that. Jade nodded. "I know you did, Kevin. Believe me, I know. No the weird = thing=20 about it was that Megabyte was there." "And that’s weird in one of your dreams?" Kevin stifled a = laugh, then tried=20 to look serious after seeing the look on Jade’s face. 'Thanks, = Kevin.' Just how=20 much had he seen of that daydream earlier? Jade felt her colour rise = again, and=20 tried to ignore her growing embarrassment. "Sorry, Jade. Go on." Kevin = took a=20 bite out of his apple, the crunch sounding loud in the sudden silence = between=20 them as Jade wondered if she was really doing the right thing sharing = some of=20 her more embarrassing secrets. She swallowed and spoke slowly, trying to collect her thoughts into = some=20 semblance of order. "It’s not the first time either, Kevin." She = felt herself=20 blush, and spoke quickly trying to get the words out before she lost her = nerve.=20 "I’ve been finding that if I think about someone when I go to = sleep I dream=20 about them, or rather see what they are dreaming. And before you say = that’s=20 impossible, the night before last I dreamt about Batman." She watched Kevin intently to see what his reaction would be to that=20 statement. He sat there for a moment, his apple seemingly forgotten and = she=20 could see his mind ticking over. Yes, she thought that particular bit of = information might get him thinking. It had certainly been the decider = for her=20 that the situation had got out of hand, and into the very weird. "Yes = that does=20 sound more like something Megabyte would dream about, not you. Nasty = mental=20 image that. I’m not going to ask what it was he was doing in this = dream. Knowing=20 Megabyte, that’s a scary thought, really scary." Jade shuddered, remembering what had happened in that particular = dream. Scary=20 was an understatement. She still couldn't believe that Megabyte would = actually=20 dream about stuff like that. Over active imagination was an = understatement, to=20 say nothing of overactive… Mind you, she couldn't talk = considering where=20 her thoughts had been wandering lately. She noticed Kevin watching her = again,=20 and decided to answer before her mind went off on one of = *those*=20 tangents again. "You don’t know the half of it, Kevin. Dreaming = about 'The=20 Matrix' last night, that was much easier to handle." "You were dreaming about 'The Matrix' last night?" Megabyte’s = mind brushed=20 briefly against her own and then withdrew as she turned to see him = watching her,=20 an expression of annoyance on his face. She glared at him for a moment, = as she=20 tried to ignore the questions racing through her mind. How much had he=20 overheard? What had she been thinking when he'd eavesdropped on her = thoughts?=20 The nerve of him, sitting there listening and then reading her mind. Who = the=20 hell did he think he was anyway? "I thought you were asleep." She met his intense gaze, and tried not = too=20 successfully to glare back. She could still get lost in those brilliant = blue=20 eyes so easily, even if he had invaded her privacy. She sighed. 'Weston, = you've=20 got it bad, you know that don't you?' She shifted nervously, = trying to=20 ignore the guilt growing steadily within. She hadn't done anything = wrong, she=20 told herself. It wasn't her fault he had weird dreams. "Like anyone could sleep through that. Right, Jade." Megabyte frowned = as he=20 repeated his last question, suddenly becoming serious. Serious Megabyte. = Uh oh.=20 Not a good sign. He'd definitely heard more of the conversation than he = should.=20 "You were dreaming about 'The Matrix' last night?" Jade knew she was blushing, and mentally kicked herself. No way was = she going=20 to admit she'd make a mistake. It wasn't as though she'd done it on = purpose or=20 anything was it? She let her gaze linger on him for a moment. God he was = cute=20 when he was serious. 'Jade, keep your mind on the subject at hand.' = Getting=20 sidetracked now was so not the way to go. "Well it’s not = surprising the amount=20 of times I sat through the thing with you is it?" "I don’t remember you having an interest in Batman movies." As = Megabyte=20 glanced between herself and Kevin, it was becoming obvious that = he’d been awake=20 a lot longer than he’d let on. Had he been listening in = deliberately? Come to=20 think of it, had he been asleep at all, or just making out he'd been? = Come on,=20 Jade, you don't think he'd really do that do you? The thoughts chasing = each=20 other through her mind suddenly came to a resounding halt. 'He wouldn't, would he?' "You were supposed to be asleep!" Jade felt her cheeks grow even = warmer. How=20 much of the conversation had he overheard? "Enough to know something weird is going on," Megabyte retorted. She = knew it!=20 Damn him. After all that time she'd spent daydreaming about him, he had = to go=20 and ruin it with a couple of well-chosen words. Why did she even = bother? "I never said that out loud," Jade realised. "Didn’t anyone = ever tell you it=20 was rude to eavesdrop on other people’s thoughts?" She could = forget the fact=20 he'd listened in once, hell she even did that herself, totally = unintentionally=20 of course, but twice? Get real. Like she was going to let him get away = with that=20 amount of crap. Who the hell did he think he was, just casually = listening in to=20 what she'd been thinking like that? "Right, Jade. You were practically broadcasting. I’m surprised = Adam didn’t=20 hear you over in Australia." Yeah right yourself, Megabyte. Like Adam = would be=20 rude enough to actually be listening in. He was missing the point, as = per usual.=20 Like she would be stupid enough to broadcast a comment like that = anyway? "So how come I felt you in my mind before?" "You’re dreaming, Jade. And it sure sounds like you’ve = had lots of practice=20 at that lately doesn’t it?" Jade decided she didn’t like = that sarcastic tone in=20 Megabyte’s voice. What a nerve. Don't play the innocent with me, = Marmaduke=20 Damon. Why guys always had to twist things around to put the blame = elsewhere was=20 beyond her. No way was she putting up with that today. He could get = stuffed. Kevin coughed. "So how long have you been having these dreams, Jade?" = Jade=20 turned and looked at him, feeling guilty that she’d almost = forgotten he was=20 there once Megabyte had started in on her. Poor Kevin. His dark eyes = reflected=20 how much the redhead's words to her were upsetting him too. It was times = like=20 this that she was so pleased that she wasn't empathic. The vibes coming = from the=20 American must be magnified one hundred fold for him, compared to what = she was=20 picking up on. Damn Megabyte for listening in, she thought again. How = dare=20 he? Jade tried to ignore the vibes she could feel coming from Megabyte as = she=20 answered. Hopefully he'd picked up on those last couple of thoughts. = Serve him=20 right for being so rude. What was his problem anyway? It wasn’t as = though she=20 visited his dreams *that* often. "About a week I suppose, maybe = two.=20 Ever since I was shot, come to think about it." Kevin nodded, looking thoughtful. "I had a feeling you were going to = say=20 that. I think it might be a side effect of Max healing you. We = don’t know much=20 about their powers, remember." She wished she could be as calm and = unflappable=20 as Kevin seemed in these situations. He always seemed so in control. = Maybe one=20 day she'd have to ask him what his secret was. Megabyte snorted, his brow furrowing as he rolled his eyes upwards. = "So if=20 Jade has this cool new dreamwalking power, my privacy has gone out the = window.=20 Great." Jade felt her temper flare. "I’m sure I have much better things = to do than=20 dream about you every night." What was his big hang up about privacy = anyway? It=20 wasn’t as though his dreams were *that* interesting. Well, yes = they were, but no=20 way was she going to tell him at this point. Overacting just a tad = wasn't he?=20 Sheesh. "So why don’t you go invade someone else’s dreams = then?" Jade noticed that Megabyte’s face was turning an interesting = shade of red.=20 Good. Maybe he was finally getting the idea through his thick skull that = she was=20 annoyed with him. Uh oh. From the anger radiating from him, she got the=20 impression he was way angrier than she'd first thought. Why? It wasn't = as though=20 she'd done this on purpose. If she had she could understand the = reaction. Maybe.=20 But she hadn't and she had to get that fact across to him before she had = any=20 hope of him seeing sense. "I didn’t mean to, Megabyte. Honestly I didn’t. I mean = how was I to know that=20 if I looked at your picture as I was…" Jade’s voice tailed = off as she realised=20 what she was saying. Not the brightest thing to come out with. Like that = little=20 snippet of information was going to help. If anything she had the = feeling she'd=20 just made the situation worse. "As you were what?" asked Megabyte. The redhead had risen to his feet = and was=20 glaring at her. His eyes were unusually bright and Jade knew him well = enough to=20 know the danger signs. When he got like this there was no reasoning with = him at=20 all. "Come on, Megabyte. Don’t you think you’re over reacting = just a tiny bit?"=20 One look at his face told Jade that last comment had been a big mistake. = She=20 hurriedly answered his last question instead of waiting for his reply to = hers.=20 "If I look at someone’s picture as I go to sleep I dream about = them." There the=20 whole story was out. He'd just have to deal with it. "You mean you *invade* their dreams. Get it right, = Jade, why=20 don’t you?" Jade hated that tone in his voice; it really grated at = her. How=20 could she have had all those romantic dreams about him? She must have = been=20 crazy. He was behaving like a pig. It was times like this when she could = sympathise with Millie’s stories of what it was actually like to = live under the=20 same roof with him. "I’m only learning about this, okay. Give me a chance. I mean = it’s not as=20 though I’m doing it on purpose, is it?" Jade knew how weak that = excuse sounded=20 and that he wouldn't buy it, even before it was out of her mouth. But = how could=20 she explain something she didn't even understand properly herself? = Surely he=20 must realise that? "Aren’t you? Sure sounds that way to me." Megabyte kicked = Kevin’s dropped=20 half-eaten apple and watched it sail towards the concrete gas barbecue. = He=20 turned to look at her again, and she saw a momentary look of worry in = his eyes,=20 a look that was gone so fast that she wondered if she had imagined = it. "What if I promise not to do it again?" Maybe that would help to = reassure=20 him. He’s wondering what else I saw while I was in his dreams, she = realised.=20 Jade knew that everyone had things they’d rather not share with = others, but this=20 was ridiculous. Everyone needed to share his or her problems somewhere, = with=20 someone. She wondered idly whom Megabyte confided in when he needed to = talk=20 things through. "What makes you think I have problems?" "Stop listening in on my thoughts. It’s rude." Jade stared at = him in=20 disbelief. He still didn't get it, did he? Here he was going on at her = about not=20 respecting his privacy and he didn't even have the decency to practice = what he=20 preached. As she hunted for words to help reassure him, she idly = wondered why=20 she was even wasting her time trying. He was so convinced he was right = that he=20 probably wasn't interested in any excuses she might come up with. Anyway = why the=20 hell should she be feeling she needed to excuse what she'd done? He was=20 impossible. "Besides I didn’t mean problems as such, just the = stuff you don’t=20 talk about much." "Well I sure have a problem now that I didn’t before, you = listening in on my=20 dreams. Now that’s what I call rude." Jade wondered if she would = ever learn that=20 getting into an argument with Megabyte was so not the way to go. All = that seemed=20 to happen is they went round in circles while she dug herself deeper = into a hole=20 she couldn't climb out of. Still he had started it, not her. She = hadn’t done=20 anything wrong. "Kevin, what do you think?" Kevin would be able to calm Megabyte = down, Jade=20 was sure. After all he seemed to understand the American Tomorrow Person = better=20 than any of them. How he'd put up with Megabyte all these years and = stayed so=20 calm was beyond her. "Kevin?" Where the hell was he? Jade felt a twinge of guilt for an = instant.=20 He'd been trying to help her and Megabyte had driven him away with his = ranting=20 and raving. Typical. "Megabyte, did you see where Kevin went?" "Maybe he got out while he still could?" suggested Megabyte in the = tone she=20 was sure he reserved for the times he deliberately wanted to get up her = nose.=20 Don't even try and play the innocent here, it is so not going to wash = this time.=20 "It’s not safe around here if you want any sort of privacy, is it? = Not even=20 while you’re asleep…" "That’s not fair and you know it!" ******** End of Chapter One</DIV></BODY></HTML> ------=_NextPart_000_003A_01C16482.468175A0-- - To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com" with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message. For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send "help" to the same address. Do not use quotes in your message. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Wendy Perkins <ladyslvr@xmission.com> Subject: (arfic-l) Grimm's Law - Part 00/10 Date: 03 Nov 2001 12:04:59 -0600 --=====================_8327764==_ Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"; format=flowed --=====================_8327764==_ Content-Type: application/octet-stream; name="GRIMM-0.TXT" Content-Transfer-Encoding: base64 Content-Disposition: attachment; filename="GRIMM-0.TXT" /1dQQ0IDAAABCgIBAAAAAgUAAACpFAAAAAIAAHajIaZ0Ejt7AnIKYBe7Ayx+f8RBfQRaUdGrzzlX Vm2kucJ1tkpZsqZx0nSV6nwe78Z37lqJ68GE5iRkKuDQCheBDehWUelOWKkst7Wki0a++uJSNUGg VTpttC589nubCRcAiAB1bvx8Kb4ZvXoO1MiPjPSQxhuccCJzZ2RNQu0Qe2fRobZsH3fxdNfDYTvs 7oxgzGg+y4t0xXGFr4ElS8tO48ovXyEK+gHwLM8sBEoUdN+Nj+xZxCJcDg9+a7kbnnvEUfre/wLY J3bXab/wrom+v6X//W5IGah+9SA2CHs+1+po53sS/uuKZsPS+v2+S9hmgQy+ixOp8b4tjn0LBj9o o1NN4NH9ntk0inwUtYDpLADCBUHLMPOd8gFhC82Lzf5oabx2AEidPuP3bpkw8D0YFp/CjRXlCV7D cFTZ9ukjPNqUxqzIxRT+HGWww2quxxikIuzkh/DuiPszsfANI2rbyAzbJmd/+Bj+8sLFZBEE8wZS 4QVT7qEJv1kfF9Mv89i8TaWn2693Z/nMyx6U7ThhroEk7Ig/j6DbZrp6jUCJuY8s/iB1c8UEQcJk cTdj8Het4YBz80RiTuRpbDHv/4uXRNEKOeDxzJhiwFjBEZHwpU0VaHK1GRU+rGB9LiI8Wby1Rf0C AAcAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAgCAQAAABAAAABiAgAAAFUBAAAATgAAAHICAAAJJQEAAAAGAAAAwAIAAAsw AgAAACgAAADGAgAACHcBAAAAQAAAAO4CAAAINAEAAAAUAAAALgMAAAgjfAB4AAECAAAXAAAAAQAo ANYeww85CAAAEQkAAABaAAsBAIsUNgBUAGkAbQBlAHMAIABOAGUAdwAgAFIAbwBtAGEAbgAgAFIA ZQBnAHUAbABhAHIAAAAAAAAAAAABAAIAWAIBAAAABAAoAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAESAgAk AKEAAAChAAAACgAAAA4AAgACAA8AAQBFABAAAQACABEAAgAXABIAAQAXABMAAgBVABQAAQBFABUA AwBVABYAAQBFABcAAQACAHSiXSsAAAAAACAATgBlAHcAAABS3QoQAIMBBAADAAIAIRAA3d0LCwAD AAAECwDdVGl0bGU6gEdyaW1tJ3OATGF3zEF1dGhvcjqAV2VuZHmAUGVya2luc8xFhG1haWw6gGxh ZHlzbHZyQHhtaXNzaW9uLmNvbcxGYW5kb206gFRvbW9ycm93gFBlb3BsZcxTcG9pbGVyczqATm9u ZcxBcmNoaXZlczqAVFBGSUNULIBBbHRlcm5hdGWAUmVhbPEACwDx8QIKAPF0aWllcyzxAwoA8fEB CwDx8QIMAPFpdGllcyyAUGFyYWRpZ22AVHdpc3TMRGlzdHJpYnV0aW9uOoBBc2uAZmlyc3Qu8QAU APHxAhMA8czxAxMA8fECEwDxRmVkYvEDEwDx8QEUAPHxAhUA8czxAxUA8fECFQDxRmVl8QMVAPHx ABYA8fECFQDxYvEDFQDx8QEWAPHxAhcA8WRiYWNrOoBPZoBjb3Vyc2Uu8QMXAPHM8QARAPHxAg4A 8URpc2NsYWltZXI6gFNlZYBi8QMOAPHxAREA8fEADwDx8QIOAPFsb3fxAw4A8fEBDwDx8QARAPHx AhAA8WVsd2/xAxAA8cxQYXJ0gDAwgG9mgDEwzPEBEQDxzERJU0NMQUlNRVJTOszMU29tZYBjaGFy YWN0ZXJzgGFuZIBlbGVtZW50c4BvZoB0aGlzgHN0b3J5gGFyZYB0aGWAcHJvcGVydHmAb2bMVGhh bWVzL1RldHJhgHRlbGV2aXNpb24sgE5pY2tlbG9kZW9uLIBhbmSAUm9nZXKAUHJpY2UsgHVzZWSA d2l0aG91dMxhdXRob3JpemF0aW9ugGJ1dIB3aXRogG11Y2iAZ3JhdGl0dWRlLoCAQW55gGNoYXJh Y3RlcoBiZWFyaW5ngHRoZYBzdXJuYW1lzEdyaW1tLIBhc4B3ZWxsgGFzgGFzc29ydGVkgGxlc3Nl coBiZWluZ3MsgGJlbG9uZ4B0b4BtZS6AQW55gHNpbWlsYXJpdGllc4B0b8xwZW9wbGWAcmVhbIBv coBpbWFnaW5lZIBpc4BhgGNvaW5jaWRlbmNlLszMIkdyaW1tJ3OATGF3IoB3aWxsgGJlgGFyY2hp dmVkgGF0gHRoZYBUUEZJQ1SAYXJjaGl2ZXMsgFBhcmFkaWdtgFR3aXN0LMxhbmSAQWx0ZXJuYXRl gFJlYWxpdGllc4BzaXRlLoBBbnl3aGVyZYBlbHNlLIBwbGVhc2WAYXNrgGZpcnN0LoBUaGlzgHN0 b3J5zGNhbm5vdIBiZYBzb2xkgG9ygHRyYW5zbGF0ZWSAaW50b4BhbnmAb3RoZXKAZm9ybYB3aXRo b3V0gHdyaXR0ZW6AcGVybWlzc2lvbsxmcm9tgHRoZYBhdXRob3IugFRoZYBhdXRob3KAcmVjZWl2 ZXOAbm+AY29tcGVuc2F0aW9ugGZyb22AdGhlgGNyZWF0aW9ugG9yzGRpc3RyaWJ1dGlvboBvZoB0 aGlzgHdvcmsugMzMU1VNTUFSWTrMzExpc2GAZHJlYW1zgG9ubHmAb2aAYmVpbmeAbGVmdIBhbG9u ZSyAdW50aWyAYYBnaXJsgHdob4Bpc4BhbG9uZYB3YWxrc4BpbnRvzGhlcoBkcmVhbXMuzMzxABIA 8URFRElDQVRJT046zMxIYXBweYBiaXJ0aGRheSyAVFBGSUNULoBUaGWAc3RvcnmAaXOAYmVpbmeA cG9zdGVkgGlugGNlbGVicmF0aW9ugG9mgHRoZcxsaXN0J3OANnRogGJpcnRoZGF5LszM8QESAPFS QVRJTkc6zMxJgHByZXR0eYBtdWNogHJhdGWAYWxsgG9mgG15gHN0b3JpZXOAUEctMTOAYnmAZGVm YXVsdC6AVGhlcmUncmWAYYBjb3VwbGXMaW5zdGFuY2VzgG9mgHN3ZWFyc4AodGhlgGtpbmSAeW91 J2SAaGVhcoBvboBuZXR3b3JrgHRlbGV2aXNpb24pgGFuZIBvbmXMaW5zdGFuY2WAb2aAYYByYWNp YWyAc2x1ciyAYWxvbmeAd2l0aIBhboBpbnN0YW5jZYBvcoB0d2+Ab2aAYYBjaGFyYWN0ZXLMZXhw cmVzc2luZ4BhgHJhdGhlcoBjb250cm92ZXJzaWFsgHZpZXdwb2ludC6AVG+AbWFrZYBpdIBjbGVh ciyAdGhlcmWAaXOAYcxjaGFyYWN0ZXKAaW6AdGhpc4BzdG9yeYB3aG+AaXOAYYByYWNpc3QugEhl gHVzZXOAcmFjaWFsgHNsdXJzgGFuZIBleHByZXNzZXPMbm9uLVBDgHRob3VnaHRzLoBZb3WAaGF2 ZYBiZWVugHdhcm5lZC7MzEFVVEhPUidTgE5PVEVTOszMIkdyaW1tJ3OATGF3IoBpc4BzZXSAd2l0 aGlugHRoZYBUb21vcnJvdydzgEZ1dHVyZYB0aW1lgGxpbmUugFNvcnSAb2YugEnMdHJpZWQsgEmA cmVhbGx5gGRpZCyAYnV0gExpc2GAZGlkgG5vdIB3YW50gHRvgGJlgGGAV2F0Y2hlcoBpboB0aGlz gHN0b3J5LoBUaGXMZW5kgHJlc3VsdIBpc4B0aGF0gHRoaXOAc3RvcnmAaXOAbm93gG9mZmljaWFs bHmAVEaAQVUugEZvcnR1bmF0ZWx5LIBhbHRlcm5hdGXMdW5pdmVyc2VzgGFyZYBhboBlc3RhYmxp c2hlZIBURoBjb25jZXB0gChob3eAZWxzZYBjb3VsZIB0aGWAdW5pdmVyc2WAY3Jvc3PMb3ZlcoB3 aXRogFNsaWRlcnM/KYBUaGlzgHN0b3J5gGlzgG5vdIBhgGNyb3Nzb3ZlcoBwaWVjZYBhdIBhbGw7 gGl0gGlzgHZlcnnMc3RyaWN0bHmATmV3gFNlcmllc4BUb21vcnJvd4BQZW9wbGUugEl0gHRha2Vz gHBsYWNlgGFmdGVygG15gHByZXZpb3VzgFRG0AYVAAALAAkAAUAtkCgsAAEgFQDQc3RvcnmAIlRo ZYBBdHJvcG9zgFByb2plY3QiLoAiR3JpbW0nc4BMYXcigHNob3VsZIBtYWtlgGNvbXBsZXRlgHNl bnNlzHJlZ2FyZGxlc3OAb2aAd2hldGhlcoBvcoBub3SAeW91J3ZlgHJlYWSAIkF0cm9wb3MiLIBi dXSAaXSAbWlnaHSAbWFrZcxtb3JlgHNlbnNlgHNvb25lcoBpZoB5b3WAaGF2ZYByZWFkgGl0LoBJ dIBpc4Bub3SAbmVjZXNzYXJ5gHRvgGhhdmWAYW55gG90aGVyzGZhbWlsaWFyaXR5gHdpdGiAVEaA aW6Ab3JkZXKAdG+AdW5kZXJzdGFuZIB0aGlzgHBpZWNlLoDMzEZvcoBwdXJwb3Nlc4BvZoBjb250 aW51aXR5gG9ugHRoZYB0aW1lbGluZSyAIkdyaW1tJ3OATGF3IoBvY2N1cnOAaW7MRGVjZW1iZXKA MTk5OCyAb26AYYB3b3JsZIB0aGF0gGRvZXOAbm90gGhhdmWASW1tb3J0YWxzgChoZW5jZSyAbm+A bmVlZMxmb3KAV2F0Y2hlcnMpLoBGb3KAdGhvc2WAd2hvgGRvbid0gGhhdmWAdGhlgFRGgHRpbWVs aW5lgGlugGZyb250gG9mgHRoZW0szHlvdYBzaG91bGSAYmWAYXdhcmWAdGhhdIB0aGWAZGF0ZXOA b2aAdGhlgHNob3eAd2VyZYBhbHRlcmVkgHRvgGJldHRlcoBmaXTMd2l0aIB0aGWAb3RoZXKAc2hv d3OAaW6AdGhlgHVuaXZlcnNlLoBJboBURiyAIlRoZYBPcmlnaW6AU3RvcnkigHRha2VzgHBsYWNl zGlugDE5OTUsgHdpdGiAdGhlgG90aGVygHNlcmlhbHOAYnVtcGVkgHVwgGFjY29yZGluZ2x5LszM VGhhbmtzgGFyZYBkdWWAdG+AbWFueSyAbWFueYBwZW9wbGUugFRoaXOAc3RvcnmAaGFzgGJlZW6A aW6Ad29ya3OAZm9ygDPMeWVhcnMsgHdoaWNogG1lYW5zgGRvemVuc4BvZoBwZW9wbGWAaGF2ZYBn bGltcHNlZIBzb21lgHBhcnSAb2aAaXSAaW7Mc29tZYBpbmNhcm5hdGlvboBvcoBhbm90aGVyLoBU aGFua3OAYXJlgGR1ZYB0b4AoaW6Abm+AcGFydGljdWxhcoBvcmRlcinMQ2Fyb2xpbmWARmFsZXMs gEJldGiARXBzdGVpbiyATWljaGVsZYBCdW1iYXJnZXIsgFNlbG1hgE1jQ3JvcnmAYW5kzHByb2Jh Ymx5gGGAYnVuY2iAb2aAb3RoZXKAcGVvcGxlgHdob4BoYXZlgGhlbHBlZIBpboBudW1lcm91c4B3 YXlzgGJpZ8xhbmSAc21hbGyAdGhyb3VnaG91dIB0aGWAd3JpdGluZy6AU3BlY2lhbIB0aGFua3OA YXJlgGR1ZYB0bzqAVG9kZIBKZW5zZW7Md2hvgCptYXkqgGhhdmWAc2VlboB0aGWAVG9tb3Jyb3eA UGVvcGxlgG9uY2WAYXOAYYBraWQsgGJ1dIB3aG+Ad2FzzHN0aWxsgHdpbGxpbmeAdG+AY29sZIBy ZWFkgHRoaXOAc3RvcnmAYW5kgG1ha2WAbWWAYW5zd2VygHNvbWWAdmVyecxpbXBvcnRhbnSAcXVl c3Rpb25zO4BBbm5lgE9sc2VugHdob4BoYXOAYmVlboBvboBib2FyZIBzaW5jZYBKYW51YXJ5gG9m zHRoaXOAeWVhciyAYW5kgGR1ZYB0b4BoZXKAY29uc3RhbnSAcHJvZGRpbmcsgGFuZIB3aWxsaW5n bmVzc4B0b4BiZYBhzHNvdW5kaW5ngGJvYXJkLIBhY3R1YWxseYBtYWRlgHRoaXOAc3RvcnmAcG9z c2libGU7gE1lZ2FugEZyZWVtYW6Ad2hvzGhhc4BncmVhdIBwb3RlbnRpYWyAdG+AYmWAYYBwcm9m ZXNzaW9uYWyAZWRpdG9yLIBhbmSAd2hvgHdhc24ndIBhZnJhaWSAdG+Ac2F5zCJkb4BpdIBhZ2Fp bi4iO4BhbmSAbXmAaHVzYmFuZCyAUm9iLIB3aG+Ac3BlbnSAYYB3aG9sZYBTdW5kYXmAZG9pbmeA dGhlzGZpbmFsgGVkaXRpbmeAd2l0aIBtZS7MzEFwb2xvZ2llc4BhcmWAYWxzb4BkdWWAdG+AQmV0 aIBFcHN0ZWluLoBTb21lgHRpbWWAYWdvgChwZXJoYXBzgGJlc3TMbWVhc3VyZWSAaW6AeWVhcnMp LIBzaGWAbWFkZYBhboB1bm9mZmljaWFsgGNoYWxsZW5nZYBmb3KAYW55b25lgHRvgHdyaXRlgGHM c3RvcnmAaW6Ad2hpY2iAdGhlgHJlcXVpc2l0ZYBtYWSAc2NpZW50aXN0gHdhc4Bub3SAYYBnZW5l dGljaXN0LoBUaGlzgHN0b3J5zHdhc4BpbnRlbmRlZIB0b4BhbnN3ZXKAdGhhdIBjaGFsbGVuZ2WA YnmAcGl0dGluZ4BhgG1hZIBsaW5ndWlzdIBhZ2FpbnN0gHRoZcxUUC6AVGhpc4BzdG9yeYB3YXOA YWxzb4BpbnRlbmRlZIB0b4BiZYBhgHBhcm9keS6AT3KAcG9zc2libHmAYYBjb21lZHkugEl0zGZh aWxlZIBjb21wbGV0ZWx5gHRvgGJlgGVpdGhlcoBvZoB0aGWAbGF0dGVygHR3by6AVGhlcmWAaXOA YYBsaW5ndWlzdIBpboB0aGXMc3RvcnksgGJ1dIBoZSdzgG5vdIBtYWQugFNvcnJ5LszMQXOAYWx3 YXlzLIBxdWVzdGlvbnMsgGNvbW1lbnRzLIBhbmSAY29uc3RydWN0aXZlgGNyaXRpcXVlc4B3ZWxj b21lZIBhbmTMZW5jb3VyYWdlZIBhdIBsYWR5c2x2ckB4bWlzc2lvbi5jb20u --=====================_8327764==_ Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"; format=flowed --=====================_8327764==_-- - To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com" with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message. For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send "help" to the same address. Do not use quotes in your message. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Wendy Perkins <ladyslvr@xmission.com> Subject: (arfic-l) Grimm's Law - Part 01/10 Date: 03 Nov 2001 12:05:11 -0600 --=====================_8339990==_ Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"; format=flowed --=====================_8339990==_ Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" Grimm's Law A Tomorrow's Future Story by Wendy Perkins ladyslvr@xmission.com Part 01 of 10 Warnings: A racial slur occurs in this part. Chapter 1 "Lisa, are you feeling okay?" "What?" Lisa looked up at her boyfriend, sitting across the small coffee shop table from her. The nub of one pencil stuck out from behind his right ear, while he tapped the gnawed end of another against his lower lip. "Yeah, I'm fine," she said. Her words were almost lost in the hum of talk that filled the shop. It was early afternoon, yet the sun's last rays already shone through the front plate glass window onto the students seated at crowded tables. When the tables ran out, some students had even taken up positions on the floor, improvising chairs and tables out of backpacks and stacks of books. She and her boyfriend had been lucky enough to stake out an actual table, which was now obscured by a scattered assortment of papers and notebooks. As the front door opened and closed with the traffic, gusts of chill air sweetened the burning leaves smell of coffee that filled the shop. "Ya sure?" he asked, eyebrows creasing. "You look kinda distracted." "I'm fine," she repeated. "I'm just worried about finals. You know. Greenberg's is going to *kill* me." She indicated the open notebook in front of her for emphasis. She was highlighting the few notes that applied to the class in a color scheme that was more aesthetic than useful. "1204? Did you write down what happened in 1204?" Lisa stretched across the table to get a better look at her boyfriend's notes. There wasn't that much to see. The college ruled page had a couple of lines at the top that might be course related, in a scrawling handwriting that was nearly impossible to read upside down. The rest of the page was, as near a Lisa could tell, devoted to song lyrics. "Did you even bother to take notes?" she asked, falling back into her seat. "Sure," he answered. He flipped back a page. "See," he said, pointing to a block of text. "Here, and here." He went through the pages too rapidly for Lisa to verify what he was showing her. "Okay," she said, "So, did you happen to write down what happened in 1204? It's going to be on the test. You know it is." "What do your notes say?" "September 29th. That was the day of the lecture. 'External History of English - Highlights'," she read aloud. "Then I have a list of dates: 449, 597, 865, 1066, and 1204. I didn't write down what happened on those dates." "You even bother to take notes?" he mimicked. "Yeah, yeah," she said, subdued. "I know it was something important, or it wouldn't be in here." "Gimme." He grabbed her notebook away and started paging through it. "It can't be that important," he said, after a minute or so of looking. "You only have them in here once." He started to turn the page, then looked closer at what it said. "What do 'carpal', 'metacarpal', 'phalanges', 'ulna' and 'radius' have to do with English history?" "They're words," she answered. "You know. Vocabulary words. They're, uh, descended from Latin and are, uh, you're not buying any of this are you?" He shook his head, then gently reached over and took her hand and started to massage it. "I know this is a phalange," he said, touching her index finger. He rubbed each finger in turn saying, "and so is this one." The massage finished, he pulled her hand up to his mouth and kissed her palm. "You have beautiful hands." "Thanks," Lisa answered, the glow of the attention heating up her face. The best part about being in a relationship, she decided, was the random compliments. Too bad finals were fast approaching and compliments didn't make good grades. She pulled her hand back and deliberately opened the notebook to the page with the dates. "Adam, we need to study." There was a slight pause in which everyone in the coffee shop seemed to stop talking. "Adam? Who's Adam?" he asked, then the noise started up again, louder. "What?" Her voice caught as her words started to catch up to her. "Where'd you hear 'Adam'? I said Isaac." No she didn't. She knew what she had said. What she couldn't figure out was why she said it. "You didn't. I know my name when I hear it. I didn't hear it. Who's Adam?" He let the pencil drop to the page and leaned back in his chair, as if to get a wider view of her. "I must have gotten mixed up. It's a pretty common name." She protested, but didn't feel it. "Lisa. You don't need to keep secrets from me. There ain't nothin' I can't handle." He said the last with a downward swipe of his hand. He was slipping into what Lisa had come to think of as his 'tough guy' accent. He only used it when he was trying to prove something. "It's not important," she said at last. "Just this guy I knew a long time ago. I don't know what made me think of him now." "We look alike?" Isaac asked. She took a moment to size him up. Isaac wasn't what anyone would call gorgeous, but he was good looking. Clear skin, full lips, straight teeth, wide brown eyes with thick, dark lashes. His head was shaved in some current fashion that was probably an attempt to hide a retreating hairline. "I can't really remember," she answered, picturing Adam perfectly. There were no similarities at all. "He was white. Still is, I guess." She shrugged. "I think he had dark hair." Why was she lying? She was dating this guy; she should be telling him the truth. As much as she was allowed to tell, anyway. Isaac's eyes widened and he half stood up in his chair. "You got it on with a cracker!" He sounded repulsed at the mere idea. His lower lip began quivering in a way Lisa had never seen before, and his throat looked tight. So much for there being nothing you can't handle, she thought. "It bothers you that much?" "Hell, yeah. That's a sell out. African-American queens should only be gettin' it on with African-American kings." "We didn't 'get it on'," Lisa protested. Out of the corner of her eyes she glanced around the cafe. The noise level hadn't changed again, but she felt like everyone was looking at her. One person was, a grad student type person at the next table who quickly looked away. Lisa lowered her volume. "I can't believe you're even saying what you're saying. We didn't date. We didn't kiss." 'I teleported with him,' she remembered trying to explain to her mother. That conversation had gone only slightly better than this one. "Sit down," she continued. "You're making people stare. Adam was just a friend. I met him on a trip overseas and haven't seen him since. There's nothing more to tell you and nothing, absolutely nothing, for you to be so worked up about." "I ain't worked up." He sat down, reluctantly. "Bull. We've been seeing each other for over a month and this is the first time you've ever been anything but pleasant towards me. Come on. We were having a nice afternoon. As nice as possible, anyway, considering Greenberg's exam is less than two weeks away. Can you just drop it and let's study in peace?" She bent back over the notebook to lead by example, and started highlighting the dates. She'd have to remember to look them up. Isaac stood up without a comment and walked over to the register. Lisa didn't turn around to see what he was doing over there. Mostly, she was afraid to know. She tidied up some of the loose papers that had spilled from her notebook, old homework assignments and the like. She couldn't wait for the end of semester bonfire when she could turn all this paper into fuel. A minute later he returned. He plunked two large, paper cups on the table. "Green tea," he said. "We need a break from the caffeine." He sat down in his chair again, then scooted it over so he was sitting next to her. The legs squealed against the tile floor. No one seemed to notice. "1204, you said? That the date?" "Yeah," she said. "I think it has something to do with Vikings. Or Romans?" She picked up one of the textbooks for the class and started paging through it. "Maybe it's the French." Isaac slipped is arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer to him. "Tell me again why we studying this. They all been dust for centuries." She let herself lean in against him. He smelled of Old Spice deodorant; a scent she was beginning to associate just with him. "It's going to be on the test." She almost added a comment about his grammar, but decided to let it slide. It wasn't too late to rescue the evening. "Don't he say that 'bout everything? He can't put everything on the test he say he gonna put on the test." She tilted her head to look up at him. "Remember the midterm?" His throat tightened again and he nodded. "1204," he said. "You find it yet?" "Not yet," she answered. "I can see I'm going to be up very late tonight." **** Professor Grimm hated grading undergraduate research papers. At least once every semester he came to that same conclusion. The problem, as much as he hated to degrade other educators, was that high school English teachers seemed less and less interested in teaching grammar, spelling, vocabulary and form, and more and more interested in making sure the kids graduated with high self-esteems. The sad result was undergraduates who couldn't express a thought to save their lives, yet paradoxically believed that all of their writing was brilliant, award winning even. He set the current paper on the end table next to him. The top page was almost covered in red inked comments; comments he shouldn't have had to make to a student at the university level. Her paper was too long, for one thing. While he encouraged his students to go beyond the terms of the assignment, he still expected their work to be coherent. This one wasn't. There were topic sentences, but the arguments were mainly of the "because I said so" nature. Sadly, it was one of the better examples from this particular class. Letting out a deep breath, he pushed back into his leather easy chair and reached for the cup of coffee on the end table to his right. It was cold. He knew that before even touching the mug; it probably wasn't even the same cup he had made before coming into the den to get the grading finished. Indeed, one glance at the congealed cream floating on the surface of the liquid confirmed that. That meant he'd left the new cup somewhere else. He grabbed the handle on the side of the chair to lower the foot rest. It stuck in place. With the heal of his palm he pounded at it--and caused the chair to rock enough to bump the end table which sent the cold coffee mug tumbling to the floor. "Of course," he said out loud. He watched the dark strain spread across the beige carpet and remembered a time in his life when little problems like this would have ruined his day. He'd never had much of a temper, but he'd always taken petty problems far too seriously. Now his petty problems were a welcome relief. A pounding at the door broke into his thoughts. It took him a moment to connect the staccato with its meaning, and more awkward seconds to climb out of the chair. The hallway was dark; a storm having come in so fast while he was grading that the sunlight had all but disappeared. Who knew how long he'd been grading in artificial twilight. He opened the door to find one of his students, Alejandro, on the doorstep. The young man was standing as close to the door as he could without letting himself in, huddled under the overhang. Rain dripped from the eaves and fell from the sky so hard only the pock marks on the cement gave it away. "Hello, Professor," Alejo said. His hands were shoved deep into the pockets of his yellow jacket. Alejandro - Alejo - was an import from Mexico, an international student working on his English under Grimm's tutelage. He was, Grimm reflected, one of the best students in the department, and one of Grimm's personal favorites. Unlike many international students, Alejo didn't act like studying English was beneath him. He also wrote papers that weren't too long and which did get to the point. "Please, come inside. I can't have you standing outside in this weather. You might get too sick to go to class tomorrow." Professor Grimm ushered his student into his house, a strong breeze whipped up by a nascent snow storm all but forcing the young man to accept the invitation. No sooner was Alejo inside than the wind pulled the door shut with a loud bang that caused both men to jump. "I have sorry bothering you in home," Alejo said, squinting into the darkened room. "No, no. That's no problem. My students are always welcome to visit." Grimm stepped over to the nearby wall and flipped the light switch. One of the two bulbs in the overhead fixture came on without incident, the other burnt out with an electric pop and a flash of light. Grimm sighed. "That's about how my day has been going." He looked at his student. Alejo's broad cheeks were scattered with patches of dark red, like a bad allergic reaction. Involuntary tears from the cold gathered in the corners of his eyes. "Can I entice you with a hot drink? You look like you're freezing." "Yes. The temperature is much cold." Alejo unzipped his jacket, reached inside and pulled out a small package wrapped in a plastic grocery bag. "Professor, here iss the book that you borrowed to me." He unwrapped a small black text and handed it to the professor. "Lent," Grimm corrected automatically. "It's 'borrow from' and 'loan to'." "Lent," Alejo repeated. "Or 'loaned'," the professor said, stressing the final 'd'. "'Loan' typically refers to money, while 'lend' is what I did with this book." He rubbed the bridge of his nose in thought. "The two words used to be quite separate in meaning, but appear to be converging into one word now with several forms. I'm sure some would argue that the convergence is near completion, and that 'lent' is the current past tense of 'loan'." He looked up, suddenly aware of his rambling. His gaze caught Alejo's, and Grimm felt his face warm. "Never mind. That's a different topic for a different day . . . and class." Alejo nodded. English language history had never been part of his studies. Both of them knew that even if Alejo had understood, he still wouldn't be able to comment. "How iss your daughter?" he asked instead. Though they had never met, Sara's health was a topic of constant concern amongst his students. Grimm hefted the book, idly flipping through the pages. "She's not getting better." He grimaced. That was all he could say with any certainty. None of the assorted professionals who had seen Sara could give a definitive diagnosis about what was wrong with her; none of them could offer any hope for her future. A piece of folded paper stuck between the last page and the back cover of the book slipped out and fluttered to the floor. Grimm bent down and retrieved it. It was a photocopy of the front page of a newspaper: "The Virginia Post". "Local Girl Vanishes," the headline announced. Little else of note had happened that day; the headline took up the center front page. Below the headline was a reprint of the picture of a young, black girl, mid-teens, flanking the column of text that made up the story. The girl looked uncomfortable in what was obviously a school photo. The picture's ink was smudged, as if someone had touched the original too often. "What's this?" he asked, turning the paper around so Alejo could see it. "I don't know. I not see previous." Alejo's eyes flicked over the text. "Maybe is Eric's paper. He was read book too. He was read all books. Was spend many times in the libraria. Was no sleep . . . sleep . . . sleeping?" He looked up at Grimm for confirmation. Grimm acknowledged the correct form with a nod, then refolded the page and stuck it in his back pocket. "He wasn't sleeping? Insomnia?" Alejo shrugged. "Not say. He say have bad dreams." Grimm turned and walked down the hallway to the kitchen, motioning behind him for Alejo to follow. As he passed them, he flipped on every light switch along the way. "Have you heard from him?" He set the book down on the kitchen counter. "No. He no answer the door. I knock many times, all the days." Grimm frowned. "That's worrisome. Usually when a student misses that many classes, he calls or emails or something. Or someone calls on his behalf. I haven't even received a drop notice. Tea, coffee or hot chocolate?" "Hot chocolate," Alejo answered. "Good choice. Take a seat. You can hang your jacket on the chair." He watched as Alejo complied, choosing the seat at the kitchen table closest to the stove, then he started gathering the chocolate making ingredients. He was putting the water on to boil when movement out of the corner of his eye caught Grimm's attention. He turned to see his daughter standing framed in the doorway. She was dressed in worn, but clean, grey sweats, her shoulders hunched as through trying to draw into herself. Her gaze fluttered around the kitchen, not seeming to see anything, or even to recognize where she was. The kitchen chair scraped, then Alejo was standing at Grimm's side. Grimm was suddenly conscious of how tall the younger man was, towering a good six inches above him. "Mi chica suena," Alejo breathed, slipping into his native Spanish. **** End Chapter 1 --=====================_8339990==_ Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"; format=flowed --=====================_8339990==_-- - To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com" with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message. For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send "help" to the same address. Do not use quotes in your message. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Wendy Perkins <ladyslvr@xmission.com> Subject: (arfic-l) Grimm's Law - Part 00/10 (retry) Date: 03 Nov 2001 12:10:12 -0600 Sorry about that, folks. I didn't mean to send an attachment. Let's try this again. Title: Grimm's Law Author: Wendy Perkins Email: ladyslvr@xmission.com Fandom: Tomorrow People Spoilers: None Archives: TPFICT, Alternate Realities, Paradigm Twist Distribution: Ask first. Feedback: Of course. DISCLAIMERS: Some characters and elements of this story are the property of Thames/Tetra television, Nickelodeon, and Roger Price, used without authorization but with much gratitude. Any character bearing the surname Grimm, as well as assorted lesser beings, belong to me. Any similarities to people real or imagined is a coincidence. "Grimm's Law" will be archived at the TPFICT archives, Paradigm Twist, and Alternate Realities site. Anywhere else, please ask first. This story cannot be sold or translated into any other form without written permission from the author. The author receives no compensation from the creation or distribution of this work. SUMMARY: Lisa dreams only of being left alone, until a girl who is alone walks into her dreams. RATING: I pretty much rate all of my stories PG13 by default. There're a couple instances of swears (the kind you'd hear on network television) and one instance of a racial slur, along with an instance or two of a character expressing a rather controversial viewpoint. To make it clear, there is a character in this story who is a racist. He uses racial slurs and expresses nonPC thoughts. You have been warned. AUTHOR'S NOTES: "Grimm's Law" is set within the Tomorrow's Future time line. Sort of. I tried, I really did, but Lisa did not want to be a Watcher in this story. The end result is that this story is now officially TF AU. Fortunately, alternate universes are an established TF concept (how else could the universe cross over with Sliders?) This story is not a crossover piece at all; it is very strictly New Series Tomorrow People. It takes place after my previous TF story "The Atropos Project". "Grimm's Law" should make complete sense regardless of whether or not you've read "Atropos", but it might make more sense sooner if you have read it. It is not necessary to have any other familiarity with TF in order to understand this piece. For purposes of continuity on the timeline, "Grimm's Law" occurs in December 1998, on a world that does not have Immortals (hence, no need for Watchers). For those who don't have the TF timeline in front of them, you should be aware that the dates of the show were altered to better fit with the other shows in the universe. In TF, "The Origin Story" takes place in 1995, with the other serials bumped up accordingly. Thanks are due to many, many people. This story has been in works for 3 years, which means dozens of people have glimpsed some part of it in some incarnation or another. Thanks are due to (in no particular order) Caroline Fales, Beth Epstein, Michele Bumbarger, Selma McCrory and probably a bunch of other people who have helped in numerous ways big and small throughout the writing. Special thanks are due to: Todd Jensen who *may* have seen the Tomorrow People once as a kid, but who was still willing to cold read this story and make me answer some very important questions; Anne Olsen who has been on board since January of this year, and due to her constant prodding, and willingness to be a sounding board, actually made this story possible; Megan Freeman who has great potential to be a professional editor, and who wasn't afraid to say "do it again."; and my husband, Rob, who spent a whole Sunday doing the final editing with me. Apologies are also due to Beth Epstein. Some time ago (perhaps best measured in years), she made an unofficial challenge for anyone to write a story in which the requisite mad scientist was not a geneticist. This story was intended to answer that challenge by pitting a mad linguist against the TP. This story was also intended to be a parody. Or possibly a comedy. It failed completely to be either of the latter two. There is a linguist in the story, but he's not mad. Sorry. As always, questions, comments, and constructive critiques welcomed and encouraged at ladyslvr@xmission.com. - To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com" with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message. For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send "help" to the same address. Do not use quotes in your message. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Wendy Perkins <ladyslvr@xmission.com> Subject: (arfic-l) Grimm's Law - Part 02/10 Date: 04 Nov 2001 12:51:16 -0600 --=====================_3036999==_ Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"; format=flowed --=====================_3036999==_ Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" Grimm's Law A Tomorrow's Future Story by Wendy Perkins ladyslvr@xmission.com Part 02 of 10 Chapter 2 "Your dream girl?" Grimm translated. He wanted to face his student--years of lecturing had left him uneasy talking to someone he wasn't looking at--but he didn't dare take his eyes off Sara. Her behavior around other people had become unpredictable, sometimes even dangerous. He positioned himself between Alejo and Sara, ready to catch her if she tried to attack this student as she had done to another just a week ago. "This last night, I dream of her," Alejo said. "You dreamed about her?" Grimm was too stunned to be angry. While he well knew the kind of dreams teenage boys usually had about teenage girls, the notion that Alejo had dreamed of someone he had never met with enough detail to recognize her piqued his curiosity. "Si. In my dream, her hair iss long." Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Alejo miming a hair length just reaching his elbow. Sara's hair had been that long once . . . when she had been well. Now it was shorn close to her head to prevent her from ripping it out during her all too frequent panic attacks. "She talk to me," Alejo continued. He hesitated, then shook his head. "No remember what she say." "Are you sure it was Sara?" "Si. Yes. I no have doubt." Indeed, he did sound very sure. "Look. She know me also." At some point, Sara's unfocused, wandering gaze had settled on Alejo. There was no expression on her face, no indication of any emotion or desire in her stance, yet she was clearly looking at--and seeing--the young man. "I should take her upstairs," Grimm said. "She doesn't do too well with people anymore. Especially strangers." He paused, not sure how much information was too much. Most of the school knew that something had happened to his daughter--his daughters--over the summer. Both the town paper and the university paper had covered it extensively for over a week, then dropped coverage when no new information was forthcoming. The interesting information wasn't believable, and the believable information wasn't interesting, especially when it failed to develop or resolve in short order. "I'm afraid we don't know what's wrong with her," he supplied, answering the question he knew Alejo would be too polite to ask. "Some of the doctors think it's a nervous breakdown of some variety." Alejo didn't respond. He was locked in some silent communication with Sara, neither moving. Then it broke. Whatever had been happening between them ceased; perhaps a decision had been made. With mincing footsteps, Sara began walking around the edge of the room. She moved towards Alejo but stayed next to the wall instead of cutting straight across. Frowning, Grimm headed over to intercept his daughter. He took hold of her hand to lead her from the room. With an uncanny strength, she jerked her hand from his grasp and pressed her back to the wall as if to get as far away from him as possible. She tried to continue towards her goal, but found her way blocked by a wooden cabinet on one side and her father on the other. Sara sank to the floor then and, meshing herself to the cabinet, began to rock. Her fists were bunched up next to her ears, arms pressed against her face. "I'm sorry you had to see this," Grimm said without turning around. He didn't want Alejo to see the pain he knew was on his face. "You should leave. I'll have to give you a rain check on the hot chocolate." Behind him, he could hear Alejo gathering up his coat, the chair scraping back into position under the table. He waited until his student left the room, then sat down on the tile across from his daughter and prepared to wait with her until she was ready to move. "Someday," he promised, "we're going to laugh about this." They sat together, separated, the young professor in his suit and tie, and the teenager wearing the female version of his face and too-large sweats. "I can hear the ocean," she replied, speaking to the floor. "I know, honey," he answered sadly, because that was all she knew how to say anymore. **** Famous last words, Lisa thought, as she closed the door to her dorm room. It was just after 1:30 in the morning. The coffee shop had closed and the library wouldn't become 24 hour until next week. She slung her backpack into the corner and rolled back her head, trying to loosen some of the tenseness in her neck and back. Tanya still wasn't back, she noted, her eyes falling on the empty top bunk. That wasn't much of a surprise. She might wander in eventually, or it might be days before she returned. Like the time she ducked out for a bag of Doritos. Six days later, she returned, with no clear explanation of where she'd been. And without the chips. The answering machine was flashing. Lisa crossed over to the heavy wooden desk on which it sat and pushed the playback button. There were five messages. "Lisa, honey," the first one said, in the careful tones of someone doing her best to stay calm. "I know you're probably in class. Call me when you get back." She cringed; it was her mom. The only person who couldn't take "we're not in; we'll return your call when we are" as an acceptable reason for someone not to answer the phone. She had forgotten to call her mom. "Dear, I had to step out for a minute. Hopefully, I didn't miss your call. It's dinner time and I was hoping to talk to you. It's so hard to sit here and eat at this big table without you. Please call back." She glanced at her watch. It was far too late to call her mom now. It was possible that her mom was still up, still pacing around like she always did. Lisa could practically smell the brownies baking. On the chance that she wasn't however . . . and, Lisa'd been warned about making early morning phone calls unless there was a hospital involved. With a beep, the machine started playing the next message. "Lisa, where are you? It's been dark for hours. It gets dark so early this time of year and I just worry about you so much, having to walk across that great big campus by yourself in the dark. You just never know what can happen to a pretty girl like you." Beep. The next message started, and there was nothing calm about her mom's voice anymore, fake or otherwise. "Young lady, I don't care if you're laying dead in a ditch. You'd better pick up that phone-" Lisa slammed her hand on the delete button. "You have no new messages," the machine informed her, in its polite, assembled speech. "Thank you," Lisa breathed. How many times did they have to go through this? They'd been through finals twice before. The first time, Lisa sat her mother down and explained what was going on. The problem with a mother who never went to college herself was that she couldn't, or refused, to understand the nature of the beast. "It means I'm going to be out a lot," Lisa remembered trying to explain. "I'll be at the library." Arms akimbo, her mother answered, "And there are no phones at the library?" "Of course there are phones. In the lobby. I won't be in the lobby. I'll be where the books are. If I have to go down to the lobby to call you all the time, I'll never get any studying done. I'm eighteen years old," she said. "You should trust me to take care of myself." A look of hurt crossed her mother's face. With a rush of words, Mrs. Davis covered it up. "I trust you. You know that. It's the people out there," she said, with a sweep of her arm, "who are trying to take my little girl away from me. I don't trust them. You need to be careful." The conversation didn't end there. It never did. As much as she loved her, Lisa decided that her mother was just going to have to wait until tomorrow for that phone call. She grabbed her Anatomy text book from the bookshelf and settled down at her desk to look over the diagram of muscles before going to bed. **** That night Lisa dreamed. One minute she'd been staring at the Anatomy text; the next she was standing in a child's bedroom, one she'd never seen before. The walls were painted a soft yellow with a bright floral runner framing the ceiling. Two beds occupied most of the room, each covered in a thick white duvet with lace trim, barely visible through a mound of lacy pillows and stuffed animals. The room felt bright and cheerful and unimportant. Feeling too awake to be asleep, she was reminded of another dream once: Of the first time she teleported, and the first time she met another teleporter. The beaches of Tapahini bore no resemblance to this space. Not physically. But there was an overwhelming sense of deja vu. She'd been here before, wherever 'here' was. "Hello?" she called, her voice sounding distant. "Is anyone here?" She strained her ears, and heard nothing. If this was a dream, it was unlike any she could remember. Digging her nails into her other forearm, she held it until the grasping hand started to tremble. Nothing else changed. "Okay . . . ." she said, as she started looking for anything that would answer any of the six basic questions. Her eyes found the door, a simple wooden affair. She reached out to grasp the doorknob. "That's not the way," someone said. "Not the way at all." Lisa turned a circle, but found no speaker. The room was just as empty and still as when she first arrived, even the lacy drapes in the windows didn't move. The sound seemed to begin and end in her head. But this wasn't telepathy. Telepathy didn't use words, not as such. For the Tomorrow People to say that one talked telepathically or heard someone's telepathic voice was an inadequate description at best, but it was the only way they knew. This sounded like someone talking directly into her head, like listening to herself think. She realized that was also how her own calls had sounded. "Come out!" Lisa demanded. "I'm tired of this game." "This isn't a game," the voice returned. The air to the left of the door shimmered, thickened into a teenaged girl with long tea brown hair and china blue eyes. The girl looked pained to see Lisa, her eyebrows drawn and face twisted as if she were hurting. "How did you get here?" "You're asking *me*?" Lisa responded. The girl disappeared back into the air, then coalesced on the right side of the door. "You can hear me?" she asked, crossing her arms protectively in front of her. "Should I not be able to?" The girl tilted her head to the side before saying, "No one's ever answered before." Big surprise, Lisa thought. The girl didn't seem to understand when a joke had gone on too long. "What are *you* doing here?" she asked. With any luck, she'd get a straight answer and then they could all go home and get on with their lives. "Waiting." Lisa sighed. No luck. "Waiting for what?" The girl faded out, then back in. She didn't change positions, but she gave an impression of movement, as if she were shaking. When no answer was forthcoming, Lisa gestured to the door. "Why don't you leave?" She reached for the knob again, and was stopped by something that felt like a slap on the wrist, though the girl still hadn't moved and she could sense no one else present. "No!" came the panicked response. "You can't go there, Lisa Davis. Don't go there!" Lisa blinked. The next question caught in her throat as she realized what the girl had said: The girl had known her name. Had this been a normal dream, that wouldn't have been interesting at all. But this had never been a normal dream, if it was a dream at all. Lisa didn't have to search to find the girl's name in return: Sara Grimm. She only knew of one context where names where exchanged without introduction. Tomorrow People always recognized one another. Maybe it was an offshoot of their telepathic abilities, or maybe it was something else. Then, before Lisa could figure out how to respond to the last statement, the dream was gone and she was laying awake in her bed. **** End Chapter 2 --=====================_3036999==_ Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"; format=flowed --=====================_3036999==_-- - To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com" with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message. For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send "help" to the same address. Do not use quotes in your message. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "Michele Bumbarger" <mbumbarger@hotmail.com> Subject: (arfic-l) Entangled (Part 0/20) Date: 05 Nov 2001 09:38:58 -0500 Title: Entangled Authors: Michele Mason Bumbarger & Anne Olsen Email: angstqueen@hotmail.com, anneo@paradise.net.nz Thanks: To our beta readers, Amethyst Maiden, Kirstin, and Victoria. Thanks for all your work, guys. It's much appreciated. Category: Crossover. Angel/New Series Tomorrow People. Rating: PG-15/TV-MA (language, mild violence, dark themes - but nothing worse than you'll see on the television show) Summary: Disturbing dreams plague Angel and intensify his guilty feelings. But the soul cursed vampire isn't the only one having sleepless nights, and together with the Tomorrow People, Angel and the gang must figure out the dreams and their connection to Ami's increasingly erratic behavior before it's too late. Archive: This goes, of course, to Shadows and Light (http://www.alternate-realities.net/shadowsnlight) the TPFICT archives, and Elysia. Anyone else, please ask first. Disclaimer: The characters featured here are not ours. Angel, Doyle, Cordelia Chase, Lilah Morgan, Lindsey McDonald, Holland Manners, Wolfram & Hart, and any other names or recognizable characters from Angel belong to Joss Whedon, David Greenwalt, Mutant Enemy, Greenwalt Productions and Fox Production. Likewise, Adam Newman, Megabyte Damon, Ami Jackson, Jade Weston, Kevin Wilson and any familiar names and characters from The Tomorrow People belong to Roger Damon Price, Thames Television, Tetra Television, and ITV. All are used here without permission, but no profit is being made from this. Kristoph Cordovan, Giselle Vassal, Derrick, Celia, and Pete sadly enough are products of Michele's own depraved imagination. Notes: This story is part of the "Shadows & Light" Universe. Earlier stories may be found at the Shadows & Light website (http://www.alternate-realities.net/shadownslight). It is helpful if you are familiar with the earlier stories. Timeline: "Entangled" takes place during the first season of Angel. It comes after the episode "Sense & Sensitivity" and follows the story "Another Round." Feedback: Duh. Yes, please. Check the email addresses above. ********************************************** Michele B. Archivist, Author & Webmistress Alternate Realities Fan Fiction Archive http://www.alternate-realities.net ********************************************** _________________________________________________________________ Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com/intl.asp - To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com" with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message. For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send "help" to the same address. Do not use quotes in your message. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "Michele Bumbarger" <mbumbarger@hotmail.com> Subject: (arfic-l) Entangled (Part 1/20) Date: 05 Nov 2001 09:45:27 -0500 Entangled A Shadows & Light Story by Michele Mason Bumbarger & Anne Olsen Notes & Disclaimer in Part 0 *** Prologue "Eww. You look bad." Allan Francis Doyle paused in mid-stride, caught halfway between the front door of the office that housed Angel Investigations and the comfort of the burgundy sofa. The astute comment, and one that he truly didn't need to hear, was delivered by none other than Cordelia Chase, work associate and pseudo-secretary. And, in Doyle's personal opinion, major stiffener. Raising his hand to gingerly touch the deep purple and blue mark around his right eye, Doyle forced a smile in her direction. Unfortunately, his split lip made smiling painful and the smile came out as more of a grimace accompanied by a faint groan of pain. "Thanks, Princess. I knew I could count on you to deliver your usual rays of sunshine." "What?" Cordelia frowned at him, "I'm supposed to pretend like you don't look like your face ran into someone's fist?" "Did you ever think that maybe my face looks like it ran into someone's fist because," Doyle dropped down to the sofa, "my face ran into someone's fist?" "Hmm." Cordelia appeared to consider that and nodded in acceptance. Her hazel eyes darted downward to the paperwork sitting besides her keyboard and then, refocusing on the keyboard, she began to hunt and peck for the words to type. She did this for a good thirty seconds, leading Doyle to believe that the conversation was closed, until her head rose and she studied him again. "So, you went out to fight the big evil with Angel and got your ass kicked again, huh?" "I did not get my --" Doyle sputtered indignantly, straightening up and waggling a finger in her direction. "For your information, Angel and I dusted two vamps and took down a Rinoki demon last night." That drew the former cheerleader's attention. "The demon is dead? Does that mean we aren't going to have to deal with anymore demons going on a rampage because they're in withdrawal?" "No." The answer came from the back office as the tall and brooding form of their employer slowly filled the doorway. Carefully skirting the sunlight spilling into the office from the open blinds, the soul- cursed vampire made his way to the coffeepot. "That just means that we shut down operations. We're going to have to be a lot more vigilant for the next few weeks. Demons don't deal with drug withdrawals any better than humans. Maybe worse." "Thinking back to the riot at that little demons-r-us club, I'm going to have to go with worse," Cordelia remarked. "But, on the upside here, we did put an end to Cordovan's little drug operation. That's got to earn us some points upstairs. And a little bit of downtime, don't you think?" "Good point," Cordelia smiled brightly at Angel. "We did good -- or I guess that means that you did good last night, so today's a happy day. Stop with all the doom and gloom and Broody-boy stuff over there." "We got in Cordovan's way again," Angel began, but was interrupted by Cordelia shaking her head. "It doesn't matter. We're the good guys. He's the bad guy. We won. End of story." "No, it's not." Angel set down his coffee mug and turned to face his two employees. His dark eyes darted back and forth between them as he spoke, an edge of annoyance to his voice. "It's never over with Cordovan. We keep stepping on his toes and getting in his way. And one day, he's going to strike back." Without another word, the vampire turned and exited the office the exact way that he had come in. Cordelia stared after him and rolled her eyes. "Well, somebody woke up on the wrong side of bed this morning." **** "It's all destroyed?" Kristoph Cordovan leaned back in the high-back leather chair, fingertips steepled beneath his chin. Through partially opened blinds, the city of Los Angeles baked below him underneath the searing sun. He felt a muscle in his jaw twitch, a tic which demonstrated how close to anger he truly was. "Yes -- sir. We tried -- we tried to control things, but they were too --" Without turning, the half-man in the chair raised his arm and signaled his babbling minion to silence. The babbling stopped immediately, and Cordovan sat in silence, studying the city. He would say what needed to be said very soon and very shortly. After he made them sweat and wonder, after the fear began to gnaw at them, then he would speak. Once they were quivering, he would let them know their fear was not unfounded. Very slowly, he turned his chair until he faced the piteous creature before him. Vampires, how they both amused and disgusted him. They were supposed to be the powerful and frightening creatures of the night. They were supposed to be the most vicious of killers, and yet this one stood in his office, quivering and shivering, the demon's fear evident on its face. It tried to melt into the shadows, avoiding the light of the open window, hands squeezed tightly together. "How many of them were there?" Cordovan asked quietly. He was only passing time and stalling, drawing out the torment. He knew the answer; he had known from the moment the report reached his desk. His eyes darted quickly over the shoulder of the vampire to the other creature of the night that lurked within the office. The other was a fiend that lived on the blood of humans as well, but the other was a warrior and soldier. The other at least held some small measure of Cordovan's respect. Cordovan watched as the second vampire's hand flexed and tightened around a sharpened wooden stake and felt the corners of his mouth twitch into a faint smile. Eyes returned to the yellow gold of the fearful and trapped vampire. "How many, Michael? Do not lie to me, because I will know if you do." "Two." Michael swallowed, stepping backwards again and jumping slightly as he came into contact with the other vampire. "Two -- but, Mr. Cordovan sir, one of them was -- he was one of us only he wasn't. I -- I -- did some asking on the streets and his name is --" "I know his name, Michael." Cordovan silenced the vampire with simple, whispered words. "His name is Angel, and he seems to think that he can take over my city. Tell me, Michael, do you think that Angel can take over my city?" "No, sir. No, he can't. He got lucky last night and --" "Lucky, yes," Cordovan nodded. "Too bad you didn't, Michael." A kick of his feet and the chair swiveled back to face the window as a faint gasp and scream of death filled the office. Cordovan waited a few moments before speaking again. "Angel. Are you as tired of him as I am, Derrick?" "More." "We should take care of that, don't you think?" "Just say the word." Cordovan smiled and spun again to face the inner office. His eyes swept with distaste over the small pile of ash and dust that lay at Derrick's feet and covered the vampire's clothing. "The cleaning company really doesn't like having to vacuum in here so often. Oh well." He stood and tugged his suit coat into place, "We've had this conversation before, Derrick. I will not send one of my best men to deal with that abomination. "Besides, he knows you. He knows your face. He's probably expecting you any day now." "It's been long enough. Let's give him what he wants." Shaking his head, Cordovan made his way to the wet bar and began to pour himself a glass of cognac. "No. He has friends, Derrick and friends can be a dangerous thing. But his friends can be our asset. "We are going to strike him where it will hurt the most and where he will least expect it." Cordovan raised the glass in a toast, "And we will watch the world around him crumble." *** End of Prologue ********************************************** Michele B. Archivist, Author & Webmistress Alternate Realities Fan Fiction Archive http://www.alternate-realities.net ********************************************** _________________________________________________________________ Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com/intl.asp - To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com" with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message. For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send "help" to the same address. Do not use quotes in your message. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "Michele Bumbarger" <mbumbarger@hotmail.com> Subject: (arfic-l) Entangled (Part 3/20) Date: 05 Nov 2001 09:49:40 -0500 Entangled A Shadows & Light Story by Michele Mason Bumbarger & Anne Olsen Notes & Disclaimer in Part 0 *** Chapter Two Ami could barely keep her eyes open. The only reason she was still awake and functioning under the influence of the monotonous drones of Professor Kimbell was because every five minutes or so, her roommate, Celia, would nudge her painfully in the ribs. If ribs weren't available, Celia settled for the sharp tip of a pencil in the arm or a simple kicking of Ami's calf. While at any other time, she would have growled at Celia and blamed the perky blonde's need for late night parties and lattes, today Ami knew her tired state was no fault of the other girl's. Ami had gone to bed early last night, just as she had the previous two nights, but she woke in the morning feeling as though she hadn't slept a wink. She jerked, startled as Celia nudged her yet again, and tried to force her roaming attention back on the lethargy inducing voice of her professor. Belatedly, she realized that she didn't have to do so; class was finally over and students were gathering up their books and notes, eager to escape the confines of the auditorium and Professor Kimbell. "Don't forget, test on Thursday, people. You will be responsible for chapter twenty-four material as well." Celia frowned distastefully, "Twenty four! That is so unfair, we didn't even cover that in class." As she gathered her notes together, Ami took a quick glance at the doodles that dotted the page and suppressed a grimace. The least of her worries was chapter twenty-four. She didn't even have a word of the review material that the professor had gone over this class session. "I guess this is what he meant when he said that he wouldn't 'baby' us." "Baby us?" Celia asked. "He's not even giving us driving lessons! Nope, just throw us right behind the wheel and hope we don't hit a brick wall. We're freshmen, we're still getting adjusted to this whole college thing." Ami yawned and slung her shoulder bag on her shoulder. "Maybe we need to adjust faster." "Hey, Ami." She turned, managing a half-smile at the sight of the young man hurrying up the auditorium stairs to join her. He raked his fingers through dark blonde locks, returning her smile with a friendly and rather attractive one of his own. "Hello, Pete." Pete was flanked by two of his friends and fraternity buddies, but the Delta Rho didn't seem to care or acknowledge them as he came to stand besides Ami. "I didn't see you come in today. I thought maybe you were sick." Ami shook her head, pointedly turning her back to Celia in hopes of ignoring the winks and lewd remarks her roommate was throwing in her direction. She buried a yawn in the palm of her hand, "No, I was late today. I overslept." He nodded, falling into step besides her, "Hey, it happens to the best of us. Although if I overslept, I think I would just skip this class. You wouldn't believe how hard it is for me to stay awake in there." Another yawn was covered in the depths of her hand and Ami nodded. "Yes, I would." They were walking away from Doleman Auditorium now, and a quick glance over her shoulder revealed to Ami that she needed to have no concerns about Celia. The blonde was happily lodged between Pete's fraternity brothers, chatting animatedly and occasionally releasing a familiar peal of laughter that Ami often wondered whether or not she practiced. "So, Thursday's test, are you ready for it?" Something tickled the back of Ami's mind. The soft touches of something à not quite telepathy, but something that she just couldn't pin down à and then it faded. She paused, her weary mind and body trying to grasp the elusive thread, but it slipped away from her so quickly and quietly that she wondered if she had sensed anything at all. Ami forced her attention to Pete. "Until today, I would have said yes to that question. But I was so tired in class that I could hardly take notes." "Well, I've got notes. Maybe we could study together?" The tickling awareness came again, stronger this time. Brushing against her mind, drawing her eyes away from the handsome coed at her side, to the shadows at the other end of the corridor. The pull was strong and familiar, and felt like a part of her and not something outside of her awareness. The more she centered on it, the stronger and more familiar it became until . . . A figure took shape in the shadows. Leaning against the wall, clothed in black, a black coat hanging to his ankles. Students milled in and out of that particular hallway around him, seeming almost unaware of his presence. Ami got the peculiar feeling that those students were unaware of him; somehow she knew that she was seeing him because he wanted her to see him, to be aware that he was there. "Ami?" The sound of Pete's voice drew her again and she blinked at him in confusion. "You awake over there?" It took her a moment to regain the thread of their conversation. "Study together? Sure, that would be û" Ami resisted the urge to glance back over her shoulder; she could still feel him there. Lurking, waiting, watching her. Why? " û Great. Ring me?" "You're not going to your next class?" Pete's confused words made her aware of the fact that Ami's feet were already in gear, moving towards the still concealed figure in the shadows. Ami stopped and faced him, giving him a sheepish smile. "I û almost forgot û I have to talk to my advisor. Her office is in Stevenson. I'll talk to you later?" Pete stared at her, the crease in his forehead telling her that he was truly debating whether or not to believe her, and whether or not she was telling the truth. Ami squared her shoulders and gave him a wave, then hurried off in the direction of Stevenson Hall û and the figure in the shadows. She was relieved when a last glance over her shoulder revealed that Pete had continued onward with his fraternity brothers and Celia. "Angel!" The vampire stepped from the shadows as she approached. He glanced from her to Pete, "I didn't mean to pull you away." Ami stared at him, a half of dozen questions on the tip of her tongue. The vampire made a point to keep to himself, and even with the bond between them, he still managed to keep his distance and hold her at arm's length. She, personally, had only seen him at the office. She would never have believed that he actually left the building if it hadn't been for their first meeting at Club Indigo and the two opportunities she had to witness one of Doyle's visions and watch as the vampire and half-demon left to save souls and battle evil. "What are you doing here?" Were the first words she actually managed to summon. Not that she wasn't happy to see him, but it was unprecedented. And she knew enough about Angel to know that unprecedented usually wasn't good. "How did you û" "Sewers and electrical tunnels. They run all under campus," Angel chose to answer the second question first. "Are you okay?" The question surprised her, but not as much as his question of 'Are you happy' had the night of their first meeting. "I'm fine." "Then, you aren't û you're not having nightmares?" Ami shook her head, wondering where this line of question and inquiry was coming from. Cordelia hadn't called her to tell her to expect Angel, and she knew that the would-be actress would have alerted Ami if she was the center of Doyle's vision yet again. "No, no nightmares. Angel, is something going on that I should know about?" The vampire was silent. He shoved his hands in his coat pockets and appeared to consider her words. "No, I guess not. I guess I'm just overreacting." He leaned against the wall, and closed his eyes for a brief moment. As he did, Ami noticed that he was pale û not that being pale wasn't to be expected, Angel certainly would never be a sun god û but for some reason he seemed paler than normal. Pale and haggard. Ami touched him gently on the arm, more than a little worried. Something was not right about this. "Angel?" He startled under her touch, his eyes going wide and his entire body jerking as though someone had just abruptly woken him from a sound sleep. Ami felt the demon rouse at the sudden movement and she instinctively backed up a step. Angel's dark eyes flickered to her, and she felt the tiniest sliver of guilt and remorse as he recognized that he had frightened her. "I'm sorry. I just û drifted. I haven't been sleeping well." His words reminded Ami of her nights of uncomfortable sleep and she released yet another yawn. "Join the club." Something flashed in Angel's eyes û fear and confusion, mixed with worry. There was the briefest of flashes in her mind's eye û a body falling and spilled blood û as the vampire seemed to come to full alertness, his hand gently wrapping around her arm. "Come on, we have to talk." *** End of Chapter Two *** ********************************************** Michele B. Archivist, Author & Webmistress Alternate Realities Fan Fiction Archive http://www.alternate-realities.net ********************************************** _________________________________________________________________ Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com/intl.asp - To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com" with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message. For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send "help" to the same address. Do not use quotes in your message. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "Michele Bumbarger" <mbumbarger@hotmail.com> Subject: (arfic-l) Entangled (Part 2/20) Date: 05 Nov 2001 09:46:53 -0500 Entangled A Shadows & Light Story by Michele Mason Bumbarger & Anne Olsen Notes & Disclaimer in Part 0 *** Chapter One It was cold tonight, especially for Los Angeles. As she stood on the rooftop, the wind whipped at her hair and face. The cold wind blew and tugged on the thin material of her nightgown, chilling her to the bone. She shivered slightly, hugging herself in an effort to retain some sort of warmth. Fingertips and hands rubbed up and down her chilled bare arms, her teeth chattering slightly. The rooftop was cold beneath her feet, adding to her chill, but she barely noticed that anymore. To be truthful, she barely noticed anything anymore. Even the cold and the nagging wind were peripheral; the rubbing of her arms and the chattering of her teeth were instinctive. The cold didn't matter anymore. She barely noticed the overhead sky, absent of the moon, a few stars glittering and sparkling through the cloud cover. She barely heard the rush and buzz, the hum of the motors of the occasional car that passed by the building on the street several stories below. She didn't notice because it didn't matter. Stepping forward, she lowered her hands from her arms. Hands and fingers took a firm grip of the rooftop ledge, pulling her onto it. She moved with ease and a grace that she didn't remember ever having. The climb to the ledge, for once, was effortless. For a moment, she crouched there, the bitter wind tugging at the hundreds of tiny braids in her hair, biting her cheeks and nose. It seemed to be trying to speak to her, trying to push her back from the ledge, but she was no longer listening. She had stopped listening a long time ago. Slowly, and carefully she rose to a standing position on the ledge. Her legs quivered ever so slightly, her feet beginning to go numb from the cold air. That was a funny thing, she thought she was used to the cold. Los Angeles cold seldom bothered her, but tonight it was colder than it had ever been. Not that it mattered, because soon she wouldn't feel the cold anymore. She flexed her toes on the ledge, stretching her arms out to her sides. The wind battered at her. She imagined she could hear it howl û or perhaps that was just an animal in the alley. "Ami!" The voice drew her attention, caused her to pause. She turned ever so slightly, glancing over her shoulder in the direction of that voice. A sad smile turned up the corners of her lips as she gazed at him û the savior of souls, but he could do nothing to save his own; he could do nothing to save hers. "Angel, you came." He took a step, paused, his hand outstretched. "Come down from there. Please." Ami shook her head, wishing that she could make him understand. Tonight, tomorrow night, next year, it didn't matter. She would end up here, at this place. It was really for the better. It was what had to be done. "I can't." "Yes, you can." He spoke softly; his words carried on the wind. His dark eyes beseeched her, crying out in confusion. "Please, you have to. I know what's happening now. We can fix this." She shook her head again. "It's too late. Good-bye Angel." She fell, soaring like a bird, his anguished cry echoing in her ears. "Ami!" Angel sat bolt upright in bed, fear coursing through his veins. If he had been human, his heart would have been pounding in his chest, and his breath would have come in gasps and pants. Not human, perhaps, but alive enough that he recognized fear, so that he knew that the perspiration that covered his sheets had nothing to do with heat or a change in temperature. It had been a nightmare, all a bad dream. He knew that upon waking; but it did not erase the nagging fear that clung to him. It did not ease the pins and needles and cold tentacles that worked their way up from his feet to his head. Vivid nightmares he was accustomed to, he had them often enough. It was the plight he suffered and part of his curse: a vampire, cursed with a soul and conscience, destined to remember the face of everyone and everything he ever killed, the memories which came in the form of nightmares were part of his penance. He accepted them as he accepted everything else about his existence, with stoicism and the understanding that this was how it had to be. At least, he had accepted without argument everything that The Powers That Be threw at him until recently. Until that one fateful night nearly three weeks ago when the interruption of a spell had disastrous effects: he was soul bond to Ami Jackson, a first year student at UCLA and a Tomorrow Person, one of a handful of young adults in the world with incredible psychic abilities such as telepathy and teleportation. And while he was growing accustomed to the constant awareness of the young woman, always hovering in the shadows of his mind, it didn't mean he was happy, and he certainly was not accepting. Climbing out of bed, the vampire reflected again on how wrong the situation was. No one should be that close to him, share something that intimate with him; no one should have to. He wouldn't even have wished this particular fate of Buffy Summers, the one person he loved with all of his heart and soul. His was a cross to bear alone û unfortunately, it seemed that The Powers That Be didn't really see it that way. Angel made his way to the kitchen where he retrieved a carton of pig's blood from the refrigerator. Fear and anxiety wore on him and made him hungry, although he didn't know why a dream should affect him so strongly. Yet, he couldn't shake the feeling that it had been more than a dream û almost as if there was something he was missing, a message û maybe Ami's subconscious? Perhaps the Tomorrow Person preferred death to the bond. But no, the vampire knew that wasn't right. Whatever Whistler had said to Ami before he vanished from the scene, and whatever memories the Tomorrow Person had, she accepted this as her fate. She never blamed him, or even showed any anger towards Angel because of the way things had turned out. He wouldn't say she was jumping for joy, but, as Doyle had reminded Angel often enough, the vampire could learn a thing or two from Ami's stoicism. And maybe that was just it. Maybe the dream had more to do with Angel's insecurities than anything else did. He still blamed himself for not protecting Ami in the first place. He still felt guilty that things had gotten so out of hand, that they had almost been too late to save the girl from Giselle, a practitioner of black arts. Guilt, like everything else, was haunting his dreams. Angel felt his face shift to its natural demonic countenance as he turned the container of blood up to his lips. The blood was stale and cold û he hadn't even given thought to warming it û but it would suffice for his needs. It would never be the rich warmth and sweetness of human blood, but that was the price that he paid. A flash, across his mind's eye as he drank û Ami throwing herself from the ledge, her body plummeting to the ground below û so real, so sharp, so clear, he could feel the cold of the wind which resisted, he could see the ground rising up to meet her. The container slipped from his fingers crashing to the floor, pig's blood splattering the counters and coloring his feet. And halfway across the City of Angels, he felt Ami bolt awake, their minds united in shared terror. *** End of Chapter 1 *** ********************************************** Michele B. Archivist, Author & Webmistress Alternate Realities Fan Fiction Archive http://www.alternate-realities.net ********************************************** _________________________________________________________________ Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com/intl.asp - To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com" with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message. For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send "help" to the same address. Do not use quotes in your message. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Wendy Perkins <ladyslvr@xmission.com> Subject: (arfic-l) Grimm's Law - Part 03/10 Date: 05 Nov 2001 11:56:25 -0600 --=====================_1359767==_ Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"; format=flowed --=====================_1359767==_ Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" Grimm's Law A Tomorrow's Future Story by Wendy Perkins ladyslvr@xmission.com Part 03 of 10 Chapter 3 It seemed like only a few minutes later that Lisa was awakened again. The sun was coming in her window full force, like it was aiming for her, and something was making a dreadful racket. She slapped blearily at her alarm clock. The noise stopped, then started again; it was the phone. Stumbling out of bed, she grabbed at the phone and mumbled a sleepy "'lo" into the receiver. "Are you trying to scare me to death, Young Lady. You like near sent me to an early grave." "Morning, Mom," Lisa answered, trying to force some of the sleepiness from her voice. "Where were you last night?" her mother responded. "I called and I called. Where was your decency to call me back? I raised you better than that." Lisa took a deep breath. "I was out studying, Mom. I told you I'd probably be out late. The semester's almost over, remember?" "Twenty-six hours, Lisa Christine--" "Mom--" "--I spent twenty-six hours in labor with you,--" "Mom--" "--and you can't even see fit to pick up the telephone and let me know that you're all right!" There was banging in the background, like pots and pans being stacked together. "Mother! I'm going to be home soon for a whole month. You have to stop worrying about me so much. I can take care of myself." Lisa glanced at the clock, then had to look again to register the time. She'd slept through her first class and was ten minutes from being late to her second. If she hurried she could grab a shower, but breakfast was out of the question. "--so many dangers out there," her mother was saying. "Not a day goes by that there isn't another sad story in the news. You are locking your door at night? You know you're supposed to do that. Just remember what happened in that sorority house at Florida State University. The only girl who survived was the one whose door was locked." Her mother paused for a breath and Lisa jumped in. "Mom, I'll call you back later, okay? I have to get going; I overslept." "Don't stay up so late tonight," her mother warned. "If you don't get your beauty sleep, you're going to make youself sick." "I will," she promised. "Don't worry." She hung up the phone without waiting for a goodbye. If she dared stay on the phone until one was spoken, she'd miss her second class too. Ten minutes later, showered, she was running out of the door for her second class of the day. There was no way she'd be on time, but at least she'd be there. Not until she was sitting in class did she recall the dream; the reason she had overslept. Lisa had spent the better part of three years not being a Tomorrow Person. The intensity and attention that some people dedicated to their jobs, families -- to the important things in life -- she'd dedicated to this task. By no means had it been an easy one. The other Tomorrow People were the kind of friends most people could only wish for -- it wasn't often that one found friends who were willing to sacrifice their lives for your own -- and she wanted to disown them. On those occasions when her reserve faltered and she started to forget her reasons, all she had to do was look at her driver's license. At the picture that belonged to her and the tiny black type that spelled out a name that didn't. It was probably over-reacting. Her mother was known to do that, and it was her decision to take up General Damon's offer. But it had been necessary at the time. Not so much as to prevent others from coming after them. If anyone had wanted to find them, Lisa was sure a new name wouldn't have been much of a hindrance. No, the change was so they could allow themselves to feel safe. The Davis' became the Youngs; they moved to a new state, and tried desperately to recreate what they'd had before the talent show. At times it was rather like acting out parts in a private play. And when her mother woke up with nightmares, as she sometimes did, or when Lisa came home to the smell of baking brownies, she only had to invoke the Name to make her mom feel comfortable again. "They're not looking for the Youngs, Mother," she would say. And her mother, who was lying shaking in bed or standing at the kitchen counter up to her elbows in flour and cocoa, would digest that information and smile and say, "Of course not. Just be careful." 'Be careful' which meant 'and don't do anything to change that'. She had promised herself she wouldn't. And she was good about keeping it, mostly. It got harder after she moved out, during her first lonely weeks at college. It was worse even than when they'd changed their name and left a whole life behind. The option was there for her to go home, but it was one she couldn't exercise. She didn't have a car, and she wasn't about to teleport. She'd had terrible homesickness that semester, had even found herself missing brownies. She and her roommate hadn't had much to say to one another. It was easy to go for days without saying a word to anyone. In those times she found herself wondering how Adam, Megabyte and Kevin were doing. Wondering if they'd ever figured out where the ship came from and who it belonged to; if there were any other Tomorrow People. She'd wondered, but she hadn't acted. So, it really figured. Because Adam was waiting in her room when she returned from class. Lisa stopped short in the doorway, hand still on the knob. Adam had changed. He was older, of course, which was somehow a surprise in itself. She'd only known him for a few very intense days, but it didn't seem quite right that the person sitting cross-legged on her floor, thumbing through one of her text books, should look different than the face burned into her memory. He'd cut his hair, and his chin looked weaker than she remembered. But he still seemed jittery, a feeling of too much energy for one human being. He had the same quality about him as a soldier, always on guard, especially when appearing the most defenseless. "Your roommate let me in," he explained, by way of greeting, then added, "She seems nice." Lisa frowned, still trying to figure out what was happening. Adam being in her room was something she hadn't experienced since, well, ever. She hadn't seen him outside the spaceship since she became Lisa Young. Out of that context, he was all but a stranger. "Um, hi," she said warily. "I hope you didn't do anything that I have to explain," she added, depositing her backpack and jacket on the floor. Did anyone else have to worry about people appearing out of thin air, she wondered briefly, before it occurred to her that that was the least of her problems. Later, her roommate would want to know all the details -- the normal ones anyway -- who the dark-haired Australian was, how Lisa knew him, how come she'd never mentioned him before. From there it was bound to get worse. "Not this time," Adam responded. He met her eyes, a barely concealed grin playing around his lips. Lisa hesitated for a moment longer before allowing herself to smile back. She forgot that underneath all the worry and responsibility, Adam had a humorous side. His jokes were always the most successful since they were the least expected. It was the side of him she knew least well, but probably better than anyone else. At least, there had been a time once when she could say that. "Yeah, well I'd like to keep it that way." She forced the wariness from her voice before saying the last. He knew full well how she felt; there was no reason to be rude about it. And to think that once she'd questioned what interest the CIA could have in them. Lisa shut the door and leaned back against it, the immediate small talk used up. Adam was in her room for a reason; she wasn't eager to find out what it was. Since the day she'd said goodbye, he hadn't once violated that request by coming to her. That he was here was just more proof she didn't want that another phase of her life was coming to an end. "We haven't seen you in a long time," he finally said. He gave a last rifle of the text book's pages, then set it on the carpet and rose in a fluid motion to his feet. The room was small and filled with dual sets of heavy wooden furniture. Lisa shifted on her feet. The short distance between she and Adam was already getting uncomfortable. She was already against the door, or she would have taken another step back. Instead, she stepped around him, began to straighten up the small amount of clutter that had accumulated during the week. She reached for a pile of notebooks on her desk, stacked haphazardly together, and was stilled when Adam touched her arm. "Are you okay, Lisa? Your mom?" She could hear the concern in his voice, see it echoed in his every gesture. Adam needed to take care of others. She didn't have to be a mind reader to know that he wondered if he'd succeeded, if he'd made the right decision all those years ago. Lisa looked down at the notebooks her hand rested on. They had suffered for the semester, the corners worn and bent, fourteen weeks of ink doodles masking the original bright colors. "Mom's good. She worries. She mails me tins of brownies every couple of weeks." "I thought she might," he said. "Mothers always have a hard time letting their children go." "Especially mine," she murmured. Adam grinned as he nodded in empathy, then his tone turned more questioning, as if he wasn't sure what topics were safe and which would scare her off again. "Do you like it here? University?" "Yeah," she said, brightening. "I do. My biggest excitement is finals, but that's kind of the point. I mean, don't *you* ever wish it could go back to how it was before?" There was a slight pause in which he glanced down at his feet, then he said, "It can't." "It can too," she replied, sounding childish even to her own ears. "My life was good. There was no one trying to kill me, or experiment on me. Did you know that in my first sixteen years, I was never once kidnaped? Taken hostage for any reason? And I didn't know anyone else who was either." "And now?" "Now is even better," she said. "I have everything I always wanted. I have college, and friends, and I know where my mom is, and I know she's safe." She gave a short laugh. "I have a boyfriend. An actual boyfriend." "You're lonely," he said. "I don't have to wake up every morning wondering who's going to try to kill me today," she retorted. Another short pause, while Adam glanced out the window at the deceptively bright day. It looked sunny and warm, but was in fact bitter cold with a harsh breeze that had burned Lisa's face as she walked home from class. "But you do," he finally said. "I was doing fine," she said, intending her words to sound cold, and ending up with mournful. "Why are you here?" Another quick look out the window, then he turned to her all with all seriousness. Adam-the-leader stood before her. He raked a hand through his short hair. "Lisa, the ship . . . it wants something. Something from one of us." Us. Sometimes she hated that word. It never seemed to include her in anything she wanted to be part of. She didn't answer. She did not want to talk about this. She straightened the notebooks again, then turned to the bed and pulled up the crumpled sheets on the bottom bunk, doing what she could to make the bed without crawling onto it. That task done, she turned back to Adam who was still there, staring at her patiently. He hadn't even changed positions. "I hoped you might know what," he said. "I've already talked to the others, and they're just as blank as I am." This was her chance, she realized. She should tell him about the dream, about meeting Sara. She had found another Tomorrow Person, after all. Another in a strain of humanity so new all the members could still be numbered on two hands. However, new Tomorrow People usually appeared off the island's shore, their first teleport ending in a salt water bath. They did not appear in dreams. Maybe he could tell her what it meant. She had to laugh at that thought, or she would have if she had been alone and certain that no one could hear her. After all this time, and all the distance, she was thinking-- seriously thinking-- about letting them back in. Because she wasn't stupid enough to think it would stop at Adam. Letting him back meant letting all of them back. It meant going back to a time in her life she had no desire to remember, much less re-experience. 'Be careful' her mom said. Lisa was pretty sure this didn't qualify as careful. He'd barely been here ten minutes and she was already weakening. Her instincts told her to turn to him, to trust him, because he would know the answers. Adam had broken out into being a Tomorrow Person first, lived with his powers the longest, and experienced the most. But she wasn't far behind. She'd acquired her powers only weeks after him, and she was only a couple years younger. She should be able to take care of any problems on her own; what Adam knew, she should know. And still that part of her kept trying to tell her what she should do, without considering what it would cost. She should let them in, it said. There was a reason. She should trust Adam, it said. There was a good reason. She should tell him because he might know what to do next. "Lisa," he prompted. But she knew what came next. If she said anything, he'd convince her to return to the island with him. Then they'd be up to their ears in the kind of adventure that some people spend their lives seeking, and Lisa had spent hers avoiding. She averted her eyes to the worn school books again. There, scribbled in green ink was her name. The one that wasn't hers. She wondered if Adam would understand that too, if he would understand how much he was asking her to give up. Again. "Adam," she began, and stopped. How could she express herself? How could she make him understand, when she wasn't even sure she understood? She glanced out the window at the students passing by, the lucky, lucky students who didn't even realize how lucky they were. None of them, she was sure, would ever have to worry about this kind of conversation. They, at least, had problems of the predictable kind. Their problems had solutions, well known and practiced, because someone else had had the same kind of problem, and someone before that, and someone before that. A chime broke into her thoughts; the clock tower announcing the hour. "Adam," she tried again. "I--" The tower quieted, the slack filled now with the increased volume of chatter as students poured from the surrounding buildings. "Did that just ring four times?" "I think so," he said. "I wasn't counting." Her shoulders suddenly relaxed, her breath escaping in a quick gasp. "I have class. I have to go to class. Now." She didn't even try to hide her relief. Saved by the bell. "Lisa, this is important." "I know. We'll talk about it later, okay?" Her eyebrows went up, countenance expressing a silent plea. "I promise," she added. "I can't miss class; my mother would kill me if she found out." She grabbed the backpack and winter coat that still sat by the door and rushed out, leaving Adam behind. In the hallway, a mural of snowmen and ice skaters was being created along the cinder block walls and wooden doors in preparation for a holiday season that would leave the building closed and empty with no one around to look at or enjoy the effort being put into the decorating. Pairs of girls were scattered up and down the hallway involved in the construction paper and glitter project. Lisa nodded at one of the pairs, two girls she recognized from a class but couldn't place names to, and headed towards the exit at the opposite end of the long hall. "Lisa, wait!" Adam padded up behind her. "No," she said. "I'm going to be late." She struggled into her jacket as she went, juggling her backpack from one arm to the other as she tried to get everything on in the correct order before hitting the outside and whatever whims of the weather awaited. "Yeah! You go, Lisa!" the two girls yelled, drawing the attention of the scattered others who had been at work. Two other girls cheered loudly. The floor as a whole never acted much as if they liked boys or anything to do with them. Yet this was the same floor that, when a fire alarm had gone off at 3:00 in the morning on their second day of school, had more boys exit the rooms than girls. That was only the first time that Lisa had huddled out on the lawn in her pajamas, hugging herself in a fit of shyness, and wishing that whomever had failed to do his or her job in keeping the all-girls residence hall all-girls would be dismissed on the spot. "Wait, please," Adam begged. He grabbed her left sleeve as she was trying to slide her arm through it and pulled it back off. She wrenched it out of his hands and turned to face him, the jacket still dangling half on. "Class, Adam," she stated, nodding her head to show that he was also supposed to nod his head and agree with what she said. "That's the part where I leave this building and go to another one to sit in a crowded room and get lectured at about something that has no relevance to my life whatsoever, except that it's required, and as they say: to do the stuff you want to do, sometimes you have to do the stuff you don't want to it. Only, I'm pretty sure that "stuff" isn't the word that usually gets used, and I want to go to medical school. Okay?" She turned to continue towards the door, and ran right into her roommate. The older woman, a junior to Lisa's sophomore, posed in the hall like a model at the end of the runway. She wore skin tight black jeans and a black roll necked sweater. Static electricity fluffed her dark brown hair in a halo around her head, yet she somehow managed to look as if that was exactly what she had intended her hair to do. "Omigod, *you* have been keeping secrets from me!" Tanya announced, letting her gaze brush the length of Adam's body in a way that was neither decorous nor polite. "Here I think there's not much to you, then *he* shows up at the door," she continued, the near shouting level of her voice drawing everyone's attention to the scene. Adam muttered something behind her, and for once Lisa felt like they were on the same side. Her immediate instinct was to shush her roommate and deny any wrong doing. Instead, she narrowed her eyes, putting as much steel into the expression as she knew how. It was hopeless to try to silence Tanya, but it was damning to respond to her. The girl treated conversation like catching a fish: casting out topics until one was seized, then reeling it in and drowning it in air until it died. "How could you keep something that . . . gorgeous . . . hidden? Unless you were trying to keep him for yourself. You weren't trying to keep him for yourself?" Tanya continued, volume unmoderated. She talked at Lisa as if Adam weren't standing right there. "Is he seeing anyone? Are you two a thing? Is he gay? He's not gay, is he? Please tell me he's straight and available." "Adam," Lisa whispered over her shoulder, "Escape. Now." He nodded once and took a step back towards the dorm room. He would duck in there, Lisa figured, and teleport back to the island, and Tanya would be left forever wondering how he got away. It was almost justice. "Do you like coffee?" Tanya turning on Adam, who looked like he was ready to teleport away regardless of the audience. "I know this *great* coffee place. It's over on Third street. Do you go to school here? You know where Third street is, right?" She waved a pointed finger in an array of different directions that did nothing to clarify which direction Third street might be in. "On the corner of Forrest and Third. Oh, I can't remember what the place is called. Lisa, what's that place called on Forrest and Third. Or is it Graham and Third? It might be Graham and Third." "It's Fourth street," Lisa found herself answering, almost against her will. "And it closed last semester." Tanya looked momentarily disappointed, then sized up Adam again "But you still like coffee? You look like the kind of guy who just *loves* coffee. French Silk Mocha. You don't look like a cappuccino kind of guy." "Coffee?" Adam stuttered. "I knew it," Tanya announced, triumphantly. "Definitely mochas. French Silk Mochas. They're so rich, and those chocolate shavings on top, mmmm." "I-I don't--." He looked helplessly at Lisa. Fine. Lisa stepped forward. "Tanya, Adam's just visiting and right now he has to go away. Far away. He doesn't drink coffee, he doesn't go to school here, and he's not interested in you." While she talked, Adam was backing towards the dorm room. She waited until Adam had gotten close enough to the room to be out of firing range before finishing, in the sweetest voice she could muster, "Fair enough?" Tanya paused for just a second, a long second in which she seemed to be processing Lisa's words. One of her hands crept up and tugged at the longer of the three earrings dangling from her right ear. "You mean you *are* dating?" she asked, yanking on the earring again and not seeming at all surprised. "Are you lovers?" Without answering, Lisa finished shrugging her jacket on, zipped up the front, then settled the backpack in place, its weight reassuring on her shoulders. "I'm going this way," she told Tanya, pointing towards the exterior doors at the end of the hall. She pushed past Tanya, knowing the girl wouldn't step aside without prompting, and walked towards her destination, and her freedom. Getting outside, continuing her schedule as it had been every Monday, Wednesday and Friday for the last semester, would be normal. It would be what she came here to achieve. She hoped, somehow, Adam would also escape back to relative safety on the other side of the world, where he would stay, never, never to return. "It's not fair!" Tanya lamented behind her. "Your life is just so cool. You are so lucky." **** End Chapter 3 --=====================_1359767==_ Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"; format=flowed --=====================_1359767==_-- - To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com" with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message. For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send "help" to the same address. Do not use quotes in your message. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Wendy Perkins <ladyslvr@xmission.com> Subject: (arfic-l) Grimm's Law - Part 04/10 Date: 06 Nov 2001 13:14:47 -0600 --=====================_4151899==_ Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"; format=flowed --=====================_4151899==_ Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" Grimm's Law A Tomorrow's Future Story by Wendy Perkins ladyslvr@xmission.com Part 04 of 10 Chapter 4 The room was all but gone this time, faded to a pressing, infinite grayness. Only the door remained substantial. "It figures," Lisa sighed. But it wasn't a surprise, not really. Wishful thinking had been all that let her convince herself that the first dream was a one-off. "So," she added, throwing her arms open wide, "How do you want to play this? I'm not going to stand here and whimper, so you can just forget that idea. I set my alarm, though. I wasn't about to hang out here all night." There was no response, no hint at all that anything or anyone heard her. The air in this space wasn't any more real than the light that seemed to fill the space; the curtains couldn't twitch nor the light flicker in any way that could even be interpreted as meaningful. There was no way to tell if someone else was present. "You're going to make this difficult, aren't you?" she called. If Sara was listening, she didn't answer. Lisa remained alone in the room that was a shadow of what it had been. "Come out, come out wherever you are," she sing-songed. Her voice rang in the stillness. "Midnight, starbright," she continued under her breath. "I wish I see a ghost tonight." Memories sprang to mind of many a childhood evening playing the combination hide-and-seek and tag game. The gray dreamscape lent itself to imagining a foggy night, although it lacked the flashes of lightening bugs or the playful screams of her peers seeking to navigate in the dark. "And if I do, I'll take my shoe and knock it black and blue. "Ghost in the graveyard!" she sang out: the name of the game, but also the warning to the designated "ghost" that their time to hide was up. As if on cue, Sara appeared. She, too, seemed faded around the edges. A kind of weariness that seeped through every movement, and couldn't be pin-pointed to any one description. "You came back," she said. The girl leaned in to peer at her face. Lisa saw her reflection in the other girl's eyes, and had no doubt that the reverse was true. "Yeah, want to tell me why?" Instead of answering, Sara flashed out of existence. "Great!" Hands on her hips, Lisa glared out at the emptiness. She waited for several minutes for Sara to return, until she started to imagine that the grayness was closing in around her. Then she started to pace, to count off steps. To try to force dimension in its absence. Eventually she realized that no matter how far she seemed to walk, no ground was covered. Nor was she tiring out. It was no more than she expected for a dream, but she'd already had ample proof that this wasn't just another dream. Through it all, the door didn't move. She stopped in mid-step, caught with that thought. The door hadn't changed position relative to her. No matter how much she paced, how far she seemed to walk, the door was still in the same relative location. Even her attempts to circle it were met without result. "Great," she repeated, but without the fight. "So what am I supposed to do *now*?" The last was directed up, in the general direction of a God that Lisa wasn't sure she believed in. She felt her attention redirected to the portal; the same invisible force that had stopped her from opening the door before now moved her head so she had a clear view of it. While Lisa watched, the air in front of it thickened, then became a person. A Hispanic teen, with the broad, high-cheek boned face of someone who no doubt had ancestors among the indigenous population. He was turning in place, clearly trying to reason what he was seeing. He just as clearly didn't see Lisa. His gaze skipped over her, just another spirit. "How come he can't see me?" she breathed, more to herself than anyone else. She didn't expect an answer, but the silence of this place begged to be filled. Lisa watched with morbid fascination as the new arrival explored the scene. She couldn't help but wonder if he saw the same emptiness as she, or if his mind was filling in the blanks somehow. Maybe he saw the bedroom that she'd seen on her first visit. Was it just the previous night? Did he understand that this was more than just a dream, she wondered. In a bed back at the school that had once felt so safe and normal her body lay in sleep, but her mind was quite conscious of the here and now--such that they were. Although her body was asleep, she was quite awake. Yet, there was a certain stiffness about the teen's movements that suggested that he wasn't quite aware. "Sometimes they talk," Sara said, once again standing next to the elder girl as if she'd never left her side. "They beg, or yell or pray to God. Some cry. I don't like the ones who cry. Mostly they just look around, and then . . ." The boy reached for the door. His hand never found the knob. Instead, he stepped straight though what had appeared to be solid wood. He didn't come out the other side. ". . . they go away." The act itself seemed so innocent, so painless. The teenager had been there, and then he walked through the door. And Lisa knew with utmost certainty that this was not a good thing. Sara sounded sad, and perhaps a little lonely as she related the facts. Lisa was just horrified. She rubbed at the goose bumps on her arms. "Ghost in the graveyard," she repeated without humor. She looked up to see Sara standing at her side. And another thought occurred to her. "Why me?" she asked. Why was she standing here watching when another person had been allowed to pass? she meant. Why was she allowed to see the boy, when he hadn't been able to see her? If Sara was to be believed, what she'd just seen had happened before, and would happen again. "You answered me," was the murmured response. "No one's ever answered me before." "Yeah, you said that already." "They go away. She went away, and she didn't answer me." Her hands stilled. The topic had somehow jumped beyond the creepy scene that had just played out, and Lisa wasn't sure when it happened. "Lisa Davis," Sara added, her voice child-like and almost too low to be heard. "Make it stop. She went away and I . . . ahhh . . . ." The sound turned into a moan, then escalated into a scream of anguish. Sara pressed her arms against her ears, fingers locked behind her head. Dropping to her knees, she curled in on herself. Her hair cascaded over her hands and face, hiding her from view, offering yet another layer of protection. "Sara?" Lisa laid a gentle hand on the girl's head. Sara froze in place, the scream cut off abruptly. For precious seconds the two stood immobile. Then Sara pulled back, crawling on her knees. "No. Nonononono." The desperation of the word tore into Lisa, the sound of an animal under attack. The sound of a person without knowledge of pain, one naive of her right or ability to fight back, being tortured. Curling her fingers into a fist, Lisa grimaced and took her own step back. Whatever it was, Lisa was pretty sure she hadn't started it. But she was sure that she had made it worse. "There. Will be. No. Touching," Sara choked out. "Not. At all." Then she flickered out of existence again. Lisa couldn't move for a long time after that. Her limbs shook from the rush of adrenaline that had no outlet in either fight or flight; her heart pounded in her chest, the beat equipresent in her jaw, and deafening in her head. [Lisa?] She came awake. Not suddenly, not like waking up from a nightmare. But there was no transition. One moment she was sleeping; the next she was awake in her dorm bunk-bed. Her sheets had all been kicked down to the foot, and her pillow was squashed in the corner where the bed met the wall. From above, the soft snores of her roommate filtered down. It all felt so normal, until the dream surfaced in her memory. Then she felt her pulse quicken, and the darkness of the room turn a little less friendly. The bed springs creaked as Tanya rolled over, and Lisa realized there was no one here she could talk to about the dream. No one who would see it as she did. [Lisa?] she heard again. She felt the softest touch at the fringes of her mind, and reached out in return. **** "It wasn't just a dream," Lisa said. "Adam, it felt so *real*." Lying awake in her bed, she'd felt Adam reaching for her. After their less than amicable discussion they day before, she hesitated about accepting the offered help. She had told him to go away, after all. She hesitated, but only for a second. Once, the two of them had been the only representatives of their race. Then, Adam had needed her and the two had formed a friendship of default that promised to become much more. But Lisa's fears interrupted the developing relationship, stalled it when she walked away. She had told herself then that she didn't need them then, and she had mouthed the same words again one day previous. Maybe she didn't need Adam's help, but someone else did. Someone who, if it was possible, was more frightened than she. And that someone didn't seem to be in any hurry to go away until she got that help. Now Adam regarded her in that soul-searching manner of his, as though looking for the truth behind her words. Not that he expected her to lie -- not that any of them could lie to him -- but he looked as if to see the things she wasn't ready to admit. Perhaps, hadn't even yet recognized herself. "It wasn't just a dream," he confirmed. "I . . . lost track of you." He bowed his head to the floor. In the dim light of the spaceship, his expression was impossible to read. Almost without conscious control she felt the clenched control of her mind ease. The power she had first struggled against, then ignored, was waking up. Although she never wanted to admit it, the Tomorrow People's abilities could be convenient at times. Her hard-fought-for control relaxed, and for the second time in less than a day she reached out with her thoughts to find Adam's. She found nothing. His control was better than she could have wished for herself; his thoughts were untouchable. That wasn't fair. What did she have this power for if she couldn't use it for anything good? "What's that supposed to mean?" she demanded, instead, using the recourse she was best familiar with. Adam raised his head. "I can feel you," he admitted, tapping his temple, "here." She stared at him in silence for several seconds before responding, "You keep track of me?" "I don't have a choice." "Wait a second. You spy on me? All the time? And you're just now getting around to mentioning this?" "It's not spying, Lisa. I don't close my eyes and watch you take a shower." Her eyes widened at the thought, and she opened her mouth as if to say something, but no words came out. "I couldn't even if I wanted to," he cut in, interrupting the brewing outrage. "It doesn't work that way. You, Megabyte, Jade. Everyone. You're all here." He tapped his temple again. "Usually," he added with a frown. "You know that. Or, you used to. "I always know where you are, how you're feeling. When a Tomorrow Person dies . . ." he squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed hard. ". . . the loss . . . we feel the loss. The part that we share . . . is gone." She nodded silently. "But I didn't die," she said. "I think I would remember that. I can't seem to forget the last time it happened." "No," he agreed. "You didn't die. You just . . . I'm not even sure how to describe it. It's like it went blank. You were still there, in my head, but . . . you weren't. I didn't know where you were anymore." "Do you have *any* idea how many people there are in the world who I could wish had the same problem?" She pressed the heel of one hand to her forehead and held it, eyes closed, for a long moment. The ship hummed and moaned in the background, like it was trying to answer her question. "Okay," she said. "You said the ship wanted something from one of us. Apparently that person is me. Here I am." She dropped her hand back to her side, acutely conscious of the slight quiver in her fingers that she couldn't seem to bring under control. "This is all your fault," she directed to the central column. It moaned in response, the voices of thousands of generations of Tomorrow People past and yet to come trying to speak through alien machinery that had been broken long before the rise of earth civilization. "Okay, but why *me*?" She turned suddenly to face Adam. "Why *now*?" "Maybe she knows you, goes to your school?" he suggested. "Too young," Lisa argued. "She couldn't be older than fifteen." Which was true, although there had been something about her that seemed much harder. When the girl looked at her, it wasn't with the innocence Lisa had come to expect from fifteen-year-olds. Including herself at that age, though she had fought hard and often to deny it then. "Is there anything else you remember. Anything, at all?" Adam was leaning against the wall that looked out onto the ocean. He showed no signs of having been awakened by her dream, but there were many times Lisa questioned if he slept. She knew he pretty much lived in the spaceship and he cared for the Tomorrow People like his own. She didn't know if there was another place he called home, or another group of people he called family. With a shake of her head she answered, "Nothing. The first time, I guess it was her bedroom we were in. She mostly just acted strange and cryptic. All this stuff about me being able to hear her, *and* she knew my name." "So she's telepathic." "No kidding. The second time, well I already told you what happened the second time. And it sounded like it's happened to her before, more than once." She sucked in her lower lip, then added, "I think maybe he was a Tomorrow Person too." That got Adam's attention. He looked at her squarely, focused on her with an attention that would be frightening coming from anyone else. "How? Can you be sure?" She returned his gaze, wanting him to understand exactly what this piece of information meant. "His name is Alejandro de los Reyes." "That's why the ship . . . ." Adam gazed off into the distance, his brow furrowed in thought. He was dressed as always in a simple, loose-fitting t-shirt and jeans. He should have looked like any other young adult. But partially turned, with the dim light catching his profile and casting his face into shadows, he looked like anything but. "Are they Tomorrow People?" Lisa asked when his silence grew too long. He shook his head. "We haven't had any new break-outs since Rachel." Rachel was the blonde American who came into her own during the height of summer a few months back, Lisa remembered. "I suppose they could be peope who're about to break out," Adam added. "I don't think so," Lisa responded slowly. "There was something just . . . wrong . . . about this, about her. I can't put my finger on it--" she stopped in frustration, searching her thoughts for just the right description, and coming up blank. "You'd see it too if you met her." [So, introduce us,] Adam said, projecting the thought right into her head. "Don't *do* that," she said, rounding on him with finger upraised. "You needed to know I'm serious," he answered. "Introduce us." "Adam, I don't even know if I *can*," she protested. "I mean, what if she doesn't contact me again?" "Do you think she's contacting you?" Lisa scowled. "What else would you call it?" He crossed the ship to sit cross-legged in one of the round portals that led out of the main room, like a guru sitting in meditation on top of a mountain. Through closed eyes he looked up at the ceiling, as if concentrating on a sound he could barely hear. "Maybe you're contacting her," he suggested. "Maybe she's a Tomorrow Person from another time or another planet, and you've reached out to her." When his eyes opened again, Lisa made sure her face expressed every bit of doubt and disgust she could muster. "Maybe not," he conceded, looking a little sheepish. "No," Lisa said, just to make sure he understood. "There is no way this would be happening if it had been up to me to start it. Don't even try to blame me." "I'm not blaming you." "Good, then we agree that she's the one causing all the problems. So, how do I make her stop?" "Well, we have to figure out what she wants," he said, sounding reasonable. Lisa kicked at some of the sand that covered the space ship floor. "When did it become 'we'? She came to me, remember? She's not your problem, yet." She saw something darken in Adam's eyes, as if he were holding himself responsible for recent events; at his failure to protect her from the world she had opted out of. "If she's a Tomorrow Person, then she is my problem." "Okay, so she's your problem. She's my problem. She's generally just a problem. A real problem child." "We need to stop her before something happens," he said. "What makes you think something is going to happen? Besides the fact that something has *already happened*." She heard her voice rising and forced herself to take a deep breath. In a more normal volume she added, "I'm sorry, but I'm having a very hard time remembering not to panic. I don't like the unexplained, and lately I seem to be surrounded with things I can't explain." "I understand," he said quietly, twisting his hands together in his lap in a gesture of nervousness that didn't seem like one Adam would ever have reason to know. "What if we find Sara and ask her?" That, she thought, was the elder speaking again. No matter how ridiculous a situation they found themselves in, Adam was able to establish and maintain the distance necessary to solve it. It was one of the elements that made him a good leader. And one of the elements, Lisa thought, that made her a lousy follower. Because while everyone else was happily following Adam's course of action, she was stuck trying to figure out how things got the way they were to begin with. There was just one problem. "How?" she asked. He shrugged carelessly, like the situation wasn't anywhere near as complicated as they were making it seem. "We know her name," he said. Lisa kicked again at the sand and started drawing concentric patterns with the toe of her shoe. "And we're supposed to do what? Look her up in the phone book?" "Sure." "Which one? There're probably dozens of Grimms in my town alone and we don't even know if she's in my town. We don't even know if she's in my country." Why was she having a bad feeling about this? Why did she feel like she was being set up? Adam shrugged again. "You said she sounded American." "That's what people say about Megabyte, too." The comeback dropped from her lips, followed by the realization that she had squashed any last chance at normalcy. The only kind of investigation left was the kind she did not, under any circumstances, want to participate in. Adam's expression grew intense. Lisa didn't have to be telepathic to see the thoughts and plans racing through his mind. Each idea echoed on his face, his expressions shifting faster than Lisa could identify and keep up with them. "There is something we can try," he said at last. "Don't," she interrupted. "Don't you dare suggest a mind merge. I don't even want to hear it!" That was something she'd never done, to share one's mind with another person . . . or worse, with the space ship . . . so completely that there was no telling where one mind left off and the next began. A mind merge was supposed to enhance memories, to bring to light the details that had been perceived but not noted. It was also supposed to let one view memories from a different perspective. It was an experience she didn't need. "It may be the only way." "Or it may be the wrong way. Did you think of that? Adam, I'm part of this because she came to me. I don't know if it'll happen again; I can only hope she'll find someone else's head to waltz around in tonight." "You said this was the *second* time she came to you," he pointed out reasonably. "It had better be the *last* time," she demanded. "I didn't ask for this, and I don't want it. All I want is for her to stop." "Easy," Adam said. "We find out what she wants and we give it to her. Then she won't have to come to you anymore." She stomped her foot down hard. "I am not doing a mind merge." "Do you have any better ideas?"Adam asked, still sounding too reasonable. He sounded like he wanted her suggestions, and wasn't just spitting the question out as a dare he knew she couldn't accept. The quiver in her hands grew stronger and she clasped them behind her back to hide the shaking from the one person who wouldn't fail to notice it. "I can't," she said, voice catching. She could. "Please?" Did he see through the lie, she wondered? Could he know the choice he was asking her to make? He was asking too much. "I can't," she repeated. He didn't respond, verbally or telepathically; she could feel him standing somewhere just inside her personal space, hesitating, sizing up the situation and her determination. She almost wished he would touch her, place his hand on hers and say something uniquely Adam that would make her cave in and go with him. Instead, the silence stretched on. She was just about to look up, to apologize for disappointing him again, when she registered the electric charge in the air and flash of light that signaled his departing teleport. "I'm sorry," she said to the empty ship. "I can't." The moan it responded with left no doubt that it didn't believe her either. **** End Chapter 4 --=====================_4151899==_ Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"; format=flowed --=====================_4151899==_-- - To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com" with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message. For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send "help" to the same address. Do not use quotes in your message. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "Michele Bumbarger" <mbumbarger@hotmail.com> Subject: (arfic-l) Character Death Date: 07 Nov 2001 09:57:04 -0500 Hopefully, that got everyone's attention. This topic came up when I was reading email from the TPFICT list . . . I have to ask, what's the stand on character death in fandom? ********************************************** Michele B. Archivist, Author & Webmistress Alternate Realities Fan Fiction Archive http://www.alternate-realities.net ********************************************** _________________________________________________________________ Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com/intl.asp - To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com" with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message. For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send "help" to the same address. Do not use quotes in your message. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "Horrocks, Elizabeth" <ehorrocks@apa.org> Subject: RE: (arfic-l) Character Death Date: 07 Nov 2001 10:25:13 -0500 Character Deaths, in general, are disturbing...even when done by their very own creators (RIP: Tasha, Doyle, Ritchie, Alex... *sniff*) But it's all part of the game. Anything to get that emotion flowing! Sometimes a character death brings about a whole new dimension to other characters. It all comes down to the circumstance and how it's handled. Despite my initial obscenities and 'why, God, WHYs?' fanfic can explore some interesting relationships and reactions through a death. So, in brief (too late...), I guess my take on character death (in fanfic or otherwise) depends on the situation and outcomes of that death. Besides, sometimes I need a good cry... ;) -----Original Message----- Sent: Wednesday, November 07, 2001 9:57 AM Hopefully, that got everyone's attention. This topic came up when I was reading email from the TPFICT list . . . I have to ask, what's the stand on character death in fandom? ********************************************** Michele B. Archivist, Author & Webmistress Alternate Realities Fan Fiction Archive http://www.alternate-realities.net ********************************************** _________________________________________________________________ Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com/intl.asp - To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com" with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message. For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send "help" to the same address. Do not use quotes in your message. - To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com" with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message. For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send "help" to the same address. Do not use quotes in your message. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: ladyslvr@xmission.com Subject: Re: (arfic-l) Character Death Date: 07 Nov 2001 07:57:43 -0800 Michele asked: > I have to ask, what's the stand on character death in fandom? Mostly, I'm against it. However, I'm also guilty of it. I guess it depends on the story and situation. A character killed just because the author has no idea what else to do with the character is usually not a good thing. Either leave the character out of the story, or figure out what to do with hir. A character killed in the line of duty, so to speak, can make for some interesting stories. I hated the death of Richie on Highlander. Why? Because the writers clearly killed him off because they ran out of ideas for him. They've admitted as much. They were also getting tired of fan mail demanding more Richie. They've admitted that, too. So, they kill the character out of bordeom and spite, but it has almost no effect on the other characters. It's as though Richie never existed. I loved the death of Joyce on Buffy. Yes, I hated losing her as a character. The interplay between her and Buffy was such that I looked forward to their scenes together. But, that's also why I liked her death. Granted, she was killed because the actress wanted out of her contract (good, and common reason), but the death was made realistic. It had repercussions. They killed her in such a way that her life mattered, and the story resonated from her absence. Those are canon examples. Despite peoples' wishing and Rivers of Denial, there's nothing that can be done to fix those deaths on the show. In fanfic, the fix is obvious: don't read the story. OTOH, a good character death can be just what's needed to make an okay story into an excellent story. The question the author has to ask is: Why am I killing this character(s)? As a reader, I'm going to ask the same question. If the answer isn't, "because there was no other way to tell the story," then it's worth rethinking. When all else fails, there's always the delete key. Just my $0.02. ... Wendy - To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com" with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message. For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send "help" to the same address. Do not use quotes in your message. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Wendy Perkins <ladyslvr@xmission.com> Subject: (arfic-l) Grimm's Law - Part 05/10 Date: 07 Nov 2001 16:21:48 -0600 --=====================_986294==_ Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"; format=flowed --=====================_986294==_ Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" Grimm's Law A Tomorrow's Future Story by Wendy Perkins ladyslvr@xmission.com Part 05 of 10 Chapter 5 Professor Greenberg stood up at the blackboard in front of a lecture hall full of students in various states of repose. He was well past his prime, with deep creases lining his face, and the bulbous, venous nose of someone who'd had more than a few drinks. In one hand he held a piece of chalk, in the other an eraser. As fast as he could write, he also erased. The students were expected to take their notes in the few microseconds between the creation and destruction of each thought. "The undeniable fact," he lectured, "is that the English language is always changing, always growing. While its primary ancestor was the Germanic branch of the Indo-European family, it is being raised by a truly global village, each of which has left -- and is leaving -- its mark on this linguistic child. "Some of those marks can be traced to specific places and specific times, others are not so obvious. One of the questions on the final might deal with this topic, so listening now would be a good idea." He glared out at the lecture hall. Half the approximately 250 seats were empty, but weren't supposed to be. From somewhere near the middle of the hall came music, a walkman turned up just a notch too loud. The beat that poured from it sounded like the fight scene in a kung-fu movie. Lisa couldn't hear the song well enough to recognize it; she doubted the Professor could hear it at all, or he would have kicked the student out of class twenty minutes ago. She shook it off and tried to focus on the lecture; her pen rested on the open notebook, all set to take notes as soon as she found find a break in the writing-and-erasing that would let her start. She couldn't seem to wake up today; couldn't gather the energy to keep up with the pace of the class. Being unable to sleep after returning from the Ship that morning, she had tried to get some homework done; she'd ended up sitting in the lounge, staring at a blank television screen. Now she was sitting in an auditorium, staring at a Professor who might as well be lecturing in Tocharian. Her mind just wasn't on school. Adam said he'd lost track of her. She'd already yelled at him about that, he assured her that he wasn't spying on her, the matter was supposed to be closed. Dammit. The matter wasn't closed. She did not like the idea of Adam, or anyone else, keeping tabs on her every move. It was for that reason that she had come to be where she was now. Not the college part. The part with the ever super-paranoid mom who made her phone in every day and who questioned anyone who looked at either of them even a second too long. A mom who did not know her nineteen year old daughter was dating, and wouldn't approve of it if she did. Because once someone had tried to keep track of them, and it had nearly gotten them both killed. Adam had meant to be comforting. He wasn't. It could *never* be a comfort that someone would both have the ability to know her mind and would choose to use it. Lisa learned that lesson too well. She felt a shiver run up her spine. She pondered this for a moment, then realized with surprise that the shiver came not from knowing that Adam hadn't just let her walk out of his life, but with the knowledge that she expected nothing else from him. Lisa had long known she would grow up to be important. Really important. Her earliest memories were daydreams: the kind of super hero stories where the bad guy only looked monstrous, the challenges were right within her ability to overcome, and she always, always finished on top. In her dreams she was rich, powerful, and subject to no one. She lived immersed in the unspoken admiration of all around her. When she turned twelve, she packed those dreams away along with her Barbies, just another toy outgrown. Lisa Davis didn't have time for heroics anymore: she had boys, clothes, and a reputation to worry about. She was a teenager who had a woman to become. Then came the talent show, the one where she teleported in front of a room full of people. And it wasn't a fantasy anymore. It wasn't a daydream where she could manipulate the outcome until it suited her needs; where she could look at all the people who made her life difficult and think, "If only you knew." Now she worried about exactly that: who knew? After her mom was captured and held hostage, after she was subjected to that horrible *thing* that destroyed her ability to think, after her new found friends had nearly died trying to save them . . . After all that, she learned that wealth, power and freedom didn't belong to people who had something to exploit. She figured the only way to ever be safe again was to make sure no one knew the truth. If she didn't acknowledge her powers, she wouldn't use them. Then, maybe, she could forget she wasn't just like everyone else sitting in this classroom. Maybe, someday, everyone who knew better would also forget. And Lisa Davis would be once again left alone to grow into the woman she always wanted to be. Except it wasn't quite that easy, as last night so succinctly reminded her. Sometimes, she was learning, she had to be a person she *didn't* want to be. Like right now: She wanted to be angry. Adam had reached into her head without being invited, had reminded her of a part of her life she didn't look back on fondly. But she knew that even for all the distance she had tried to put between them, there was a connection that hadn't been severed -- because she could still reach back. Adam had let her walk away, but he couldn't let her disappear. That wasn't in her nature. The dream. That wasn't his fault. Sara had come to her, twice, and would probably keep coming to her until she figured out why. She sighed into her pillowed arms. Of all the problems she thought she'd find in college, this hadn't even made the list. But, it wasn't in her nature to turn down a request for help. "Miss Young," the professor said, interrupting her thoughts. "Perhaps you could tell us what happened in 1066?" He sounded smug, proud to be calling her on not paying attention. For just a second she panicked. That date was important. She remembered it from her attempt at studying the other day; it was on the list, one of those dates for which she had neglected to write down an explanation. "Norman conquest," she said, pulling the answer from the professor's head, too distracted to care about the morality or hypocrisy of it. "William the Bastard of Normandy became William the Conqueror when he defeated the English King Harold at the Battle of Hastings." She spoke the words without emotion; she had none to spare on him. "Ummm . . . thank you," she heard the professor answer. He turned back to the board and started to write, the chalk squealing on each down stroke. "Historical accounts tell us that King William spoke Norman French. When he moved to England, he brought all of his French speaking friends with him and, out of them, created the new nobility of England. . . ." Adam had suggested a mind-merge. He knew how she felt about her powers, and about the Ship. Yet of all the possible options, that was what he decided was needed. Perhaps it was. While she had been off trying to live her quiet life, he'd been left to lead the Tomorrow People alone. It had changed him, but she couldn't bring herself to believe that Adam would make any decisions without at least attempting to take the thoughts and feelings of the others into account. If he said mind-merge, it was because he believed it was the best option. The only option? As much as she hated to admit it, she didn't seem to be getting much of a choice about her involvement. The part of her that knew that her years of solitude were a temporary reprieve, knew also that the time of reprieve was at an end. Once she had promised to return to the island, to Adam. She had said the words without understanding what she was leaving or what she would be returning to. Still, she had meant them. It seemed as if someone were making sure she kept that promise, for real this time. "That was *tight*," a voice announced in her ear. Lisa started. Her pen careened across the page, leaving a black ink trail. "You put him right down. He thought he gonna make an example of you. You made *him* the example." Each word had the initial syllable emphasized. "Isaac," she breathed. For some reason she had been expecting Adam. "Hi. You made it to class." Isaac jumped over the row of seats and threw himself down into the seat next to Lisa. He was wearing a ratty gray sweatshirt, the sleeves torn off, over a forest green long-underwear shirt. It looked like he'd dressed in a hurry. Around his neck were a pair of headphones from which came the same driving beat Lisa had heard earlier. "Yeah, I made it. Last week and all. Gotta put in an appearance some time." Isaac reached down to the walkman hooked on his belt and shut off the music. "Let's get gone; nothing here worth stickin' around for." "But the class--" Lisa started to say, then stopped and looked around. The class was over. The blackboard was wiped clean and everyone was gone, including the Professor. "Sucked. Yeah, I know." Isaac finished for her. "What say we get outta here?" He stood up and held out his hand to her. Lisa closed her notebook, shoved it into her bookbag, then took the offered hand. She kept hold of it while they negotiated down the narrow aisle, up the stairs and out the door into a day that threatened at Springtime. The air was warm enough that she didn't need to zip her jackets; Isaac wasn't even wearing a jacket. Passing students walked with a bounce in their steps that hadn't been present for weeks. "So," he asked, "What's the plan? We've got a whole evening in front of us. No more classes. I refuse to study anymore today. Gotta have a brain break." "Actually," she answered, "We don't. I have to catch up with someone." "You have something better to do than hang out with me?" Isaac looked at her in disbelief. "I thought candles, hot chocolate, marshmallows, a rented movie we have no intention of watching . . ." "I wish I could," she responded. "It sounds so warm and cozy." She sidled a little closer to him and he wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "It's just that I've got other plans." "But you ain't gonna tell me what they are?" Isaac sounded offended. "There's not much to tell," she said with a shrug. Isaac removed his arm. "Why don't you tell me anyway," he suggested. "Who're you going out with? Where are you going? How long is it going to take? Maybe we can get together later tonight?" They stopped walking and Lisa turned to face him. "What's with all the questions? Don't you trust me?" They were standing in a small courtyard around which the main buildings of the campus sprawled. The grass was dead; the defrosting ground squelched under their feet. Two guys, both with their heads covered by red bandanas, walked by hand in hand. "The world's a big, bad place," Isaac said. "I like to know what my girl is up to. Gotta know she's safe." She narrowed her eyes. "You sound like my mother. Why does everyone act like I'm about to jump off a cliff and they have to step in and save me? I'm not a lemming. And I'm *not* perpetually on the verge of running off and doing something stupid." "Tell me the truth, Lisa. You seein' someone else?" "Don't be ridiculous," she snapped. "If we're going to stay together, you need to start trusting me. You also need to realize that I had a life before you, and I still have one that you're not always going to be part of." With a shake of her head she started walking away. "When you figure out how to deal with that, give me a call." She didn't look back to see what, if any, expression he had. **** End Chapter 5 --=====================_986294==_ Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"; format=flowed --=====================_986294==_-- - To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com" with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message. For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send "help" to the same address. Do not use quotes in your message. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "Psycho Babble" <amethystmaiden@hotmail.com> Subject: Re: (arfic-l) Character Death Date: 07 Nov 2001 18:24:47 -0500 Personally, I think that killing off a TP is a bit like kicking a puppy. They're all uber naive and cuddlier than thou... I just wouldn't ever think to do it. Near death experiences yes, but I'm too attached to the kids to actually eek any of them out of existence. In other fandoms, it depends I suppose. How big is the cast and how many expendable peripheral characters do you have, is it relevant to the story, and so on. If you're just icing your least favorite character then I don't really see the merit of putting your readers through all that angst. But then deathfics usually squick me out, and I avoid them like the black plague of death, so that's my opinion. ~Kristin "What can I say? My inner child is a crack baby." -Spooks, Asylum "There is a fine line between 'hobby' and 'mental illness'." -Dave Barry _________________________________________________________________ Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com/intl.asp - To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com" with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message. For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send "help" to the same address. Do not use quotes in your message. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Wendy Perkins <ladyslvr@xmission.com> Subject: (arfic-l) Grimm's Law - Part 06/10 Date: 08 Nov 2001 11:38:15 -0600 --=====================_3042054==_ Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"; format=flowed --=====================_3042054==_ Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" Grimm's Law A Tomorrow's Future Story by Wendy Perkins ladyslvr@xmission.com Part 06 of 10 Chapter 6 The ship seemed foreboding this time, dark and silent, as if warning them from what they were about to undertake. A short time ago she had stated her resolve to do what it took to stop a return visit from Sara; now she wished she had stuck with her first impression. She should have stayed out. "Adam?" Lisa began, nervous. In response to her unasked question, Adam grabbed her hand and gave it a light squeeze. "It's okay," he said. "You're not alone." No, Lisa thought, that was the whole problem. She gripped Adam's hand harder. "What do I do?" He led her to one of the seats suspended like a see-saw from the central column. She touched it, letting her fingers drift over the cool metal, feeling the force that flowed within in. This chair, as did the ship and everything that belonged to it, pulsed. Its energy source was something more than electricity. It had life. Just sitting in that seat would further connect her to the ship than she had ever been before. Even those many years ago when the ship had reached into her mind and body and brought her back from the brink of a drowning death -- even then she hadn't had to surrender herself as she was about to do. She looked to Adam again, trusting him to guide her. His brown eyes held only understanding as he waited for her to finish her explorations, to make her own peace with the ship. "It's okay," he repeated. Lisa believed him, even though a part of her was busy informing her that it was way too late for okay. She lowered herself into the seat, on guard against the moment when the ship would creep into her mind and take it from her. "Relax." she heard Adam whisper. Then she was flying towards the ceiling, stomach dropping away behind her. She opened her eyes and looked down. Her feet were dangling in the air meters off the floor, where she could see footprints echoed in the sand. Adam wasn't there. She fought down a moment of panic and twisted around, scanning the interior of the ship. There, on the other side of the column, Adam was climbing into the counter-balance seat. He settled himself, his body looking relaxed and comfortable. Of course, Lisa realized, he'd done this many times before. Sharing his thoughts with the ship was something he'd done more freely than sharing them with his human companions. Just as suddenly as her seat had raised, it began to lower. She straightened herself up, conscious of the lack of seat belts or other safety restraints. Soon the seats settled into a gentle see-saw motion, up and down. It was impossible not to give herself up to the slow swinging, especially since she hadn't been sleeping well. She let her eyes close, felt her breathing slow. Lisa became aware of a presence in her mind which she recognized as the ship. All predictions to the contrary, there was nothing cold or alien about it. She pushed and felt it give. It understood her concerns, would stay only as long as she allowed it. She pushed harder, looking for the part that belonged to Adam. [I'm here.] She heard. [Good,] she answered sincerely, before looking around. The ship had taken the two past mind merge to another place entirely: the place Lisa had been in her dreams the previous nights. It was as gray and ill-defined as before, lacking even the door. Adam was nowhere to be seen, although she could still feel him in the back of her mind. Knowing he was there lent her confidence. The breath she meant to spend in a sigh of relief caught in her throat as Sara materialized inches away. "Are you going to make it stop, Lisa?" Sara asked. She stood stiffly, drawn in on herself. "I don't know," Lisa answered, honestly. She had no idea what they were here to do. If Adam knew, as she suspected he did, he wasn't telling. They had worked out that they needed to do a mind-trawl -- although how that was different from a mind merge, she also didn't know. The rest was still to be seen. "We're going to try." "You came back," Sara said, with a nod of finality. "You can make it stop." "Lisa," came Adam's voice. The girls turned as a unit towards the door. It was open, Adam framed in the doorway. There was a tenseness in his stance that Lisa could only attribute to anger, an emotion she couldn't recall seeing on Adam before. "What is it?" Lisa asked. She felt awareness of the ship's presence awaken in her mind; with it, a stronger awareness of Adam. Her judgement had been sound, as had his. She should have stayed out, and the ship hadn't wanted them to leave this alone. With its help, they would be able to safely cross that threshold, as Adam had just demonstrated by coming through the other side. "You can't," Sara whispered, crossing her arms over her chest. "That's not an exit." Then, true to form, she flashed out of existence. Adam didn't even blink. "I think you should see this," he said. **** Grimm found his daughter staring in the full length mirror mounted inside his closet door. It was a relic of a time when he'd had the storybook family. Before his wife left for greener pastures, and his daughters went missing, each in their own way. There were as many memories associated with that piece of glass as with the wedding band he still wore, and it was one of the few things that still interested Sara. She returned to it time and again, with an uncanny stubbornness. He could usually find her eyeing her reflection for what he could only imagine were signs of betrayal. He set a loose pile of ungraded research papers on his bed and sat down next to it to wait. Although he seemed to be doing a lot of waiting recently, it never seemed anything other than natural. She was all he had. Sara's hands were pressed against the glass, the weight of her body pushing the door against the bedroom wall. He couldn't tell if she was looking at her reflection, the reflection of the room, or something else entirely. "What do you see?" he asked her. He knew that her answer, if she answered, wouldn't clarify anything. In his imagination, he could hear her aimless comment about the ocean that he'd already heard so many times. He was still watching her some while later, with the same fascination with which a parent watches a sleeping child, when she stiffened suddenly, her fingers clenching against the mirror as though seeking to claw through it. Rising to his feet, Grimm stepped towards her, ready to catch her and pin her arms if necessary to keep her from causing damage to herself. Although he knew she'd struggle against him, fighting him for every moment of contact he forced upon her, he knew there was nothing else he could do. There was no compromising about his child's safety, even if she wouldn't recognize the efforts for what they were. "You can't," he heard her say, as if she knew what he was prepared to do. "That's not . . . ." her voice trailed off and the last part came out unintelligible. Grimm's breath caught in this throat, and he found himself unable to move; for a few seconds, his daughter had sounded like her old self. It was enough for him to ask, "That's not what?" before it occurred to him that she'd no more answer that question than any of the hundreds of others he'd asked over the last few months. "Lisa? Adam?" she called into the mirror. Who? he thought, checking his knowledge of his daughters' former friends for anyone with either of those names. Despite their commonality, he could come up with no matches. The twins had always been gregarious children, counting friends in numbers he couldn't comprehend. But he was confident that he knew, or at least knew of, all the ones who were more than classroom acquaintances. Since Clara's disappearance, the friend's numbers had dwindled to nothing. He couldn't blame them. Still, it made him wonder all the more to who those two names she was calling belonged. "Lisa?" she said again, continuing to claw at the glass. Her efforts were having no effect except to leave finger streaks on the surface. Nevertheless, Grimm found himself wanting to help her tear through the reflection, actually believing it possible for a moment. Just when he was about to break his immobility to help her, she released a shuddering breath, sank to the floor, and curled into a tight ball. Any moment of lucidity she'd found slipped away and she started to rock. **** Lisa hesitated for a moment. She had come this far already against her better judgment; her curiosity wouldn't allow her to turn away now. She stepped towards the door. Although nothing moved, while she had been standing some distance away, now she was crossing that threshold that had so occupied her thoughts for the past forty-eight hours. She wasn't even granted a chance to gain her bearings. "What would be enough?" a boy shouted. "Tell me." In front of their eyes, Lisa and Adam watched a scene unfold; the participants coalescing out of the gray in the same way as Sara had appeared and disappeared. The one shouting was the Hispanic youth whom Lisa had seen before. He held a glossy booklet of some sort in his hand, brandishing it at an unseen audience. "I get good grades. I stay out of trouble. Ay, but that's not enough for mis padres." He paused as though listening to a response, then shook his head vehemently. "Si, this es my son the doctor," he said, mocking. He spoke with a Mexican accent, his words seeming to be a random mix of Spanish and English. "This," he added, jabbing himself in the chest, "es your son the actor. That will have to be enough." "I dunno," another male voice said, the words overlapping but independent of the first speaker. "Just . . . don't feel like it." Lisa turned to see a young red-head leaning bonelessly against the air, as if against an invisible wall. He had the kind of round, open face about which one always seemed to assume perpetual happiness. Except he was looking at his non-present conversation partner through half-lidded eyes, his mouth sculpted in frown, his shoulders slumped, hands shoved in the pockets of his high school letter jacket. Stitched across the right breast was the name 'Eric'. "Yeah, I know that," the youth continued. His words sounded like a protest, but his tone didn't change. "Why can't you just leave me alone?" Despite his countenance, there was nothing happy about this youth, and Lisa sensed that everyone except him knew it. She turned again towards a touch on her arm, and saw Adam pointing at another scene, already in progress. A young girl, just entering the peak of her adolescence, sat on the air, in the same way as the redhead had leaned against an invisible wall. A black seat belt strap contrasted against the light blue baby-doll shirt the girl wore; the strap began in nothing and buckled into nothing, and was visible only where it touched her. "That looks like Sara," Lisa whispered to Adam. He put a finger to his lips and gestured for her to keep watching. "Dad, I'm not making it up," she protested. She twisted in her seat to look at someone to her left. "She just disappeared. She just broke the seal on her test with her pencil, which is silly if you think about it cuz what if the pencil breaks while you're doing that, and then you have to use your second pencil and that breaks right away, and then what are you supposed to do? So she broke the seal and opened the test booklet like we were instructed, then poof! All gone. The sound wasn't a poof, really, but I don't know how to make it. It was cool." She listened to the silence respond, then shook her head to the negative. "Nuh-uh. How am I supposed to know where she is?" Another pause while the occupant of the driver's seat spoke back. Sara started to lean back in the seat, then stiffened, sitting bolt upright. She turned again to the driver and spoke. Her voice was clear and high; her words were enunciated and happy. "I can hear the ocean," she said. Then she collapsed, as if gravity had just become too much of a challenge. The muscles in her face slackened, her eyes dulled and lost focus, her body seemed to shrink. She sank against the seat, propped into place by the car door and the seat-belt. "That was . . . interesting," Lisa said. She found herself leaning towards the scene, like trying to watch a show on television with bad reception. With conscious effort she pulled back, putting distance between herself and the scenario that was playing again from the beginning. "'I can hear the ocean'," she quoted. "I wonder what that was all about." "The ocean?" Adam repeated. "That's Sara?" He sounded as though he were struggling to remember something very important. "She was . . . there was . . . something . . . ." He shook his head. "There was what?" Lisa asked. "You knew this was big; that's why you made me come here. Why? What's so important about these three people?" Adam shook his head again. "I don't know. I --" "I have to leave," Adam was saying, but it was a different Adam. He looked several years younger, several years less mature. His hair was long, like it had been when Lisa first met the Australian, pulled back in a pony tail. "I . . ." he closed his eyes, an internal struggle visible on the lines of his face. "I'm sorry . . . I didn't want things to end like this." There was that interminable silence; the one of the other person or persons responding. The silence was almost palpable; even the other voices had ceased as if out of respect for this moment. The response was brief, though it seemed too long. The other Adam's voice dropped to a hoarse whisper, heavy with emotion. "I didn't want things to end." More of that silence, except it wasn't. In the background was a sound, too far away to hear. Lisa felt it in the very back of her head, where sounds on the cusp of human hearing could sometimes be sensed. The other person was responding. If only she could hear them. Lisa turned to look at her Adam just as the younger one started to speak. If she had had any doubts about the vision, they disappeared as she watched the elder mouthe the words along with the younger, "I didn't understand. I know it's too late to apologize, but I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." "So you did exist before you broke out." The words were out of Lisa's mouth before she could stop them. She spoke while looking back and forth between the two Adams, comparing them. The weight of leadership wasn't evident on the younger, but he wasn't without responsibility, as evidenced by the scene playing out. Only when the elder tore his eyes from his younger-self and looked at her did she realize how callous she had sounded. "Oh, I didn't mean --" "It's okay," Adam said, though he clearly wasn't okay with a piece of his past being laid bare. "Let's get out of here." "Who were you saying good bye to?" Lisa asked, not moving from her spot. Adam didn't respond, instead oddly mimicking his younger self, eyes closed, hands locked together. His throat worked in a swallow, then another, as if he were fighting back tears. "Did you love her?" she continued, taking a wild guess at the missing person. "It doesn't matter anymore," Adam finally said. "Adam," Lisa said, putting a hand on his shoulder, for the first time initiating physical contact with him. "I know it's a lot, being a Tomorrow Person. I do know, and I think I'm starting to understand what you mean about not being able to go back. But I learned something important when I busy ignoring you." It was her turn to find strength behind closed eyes, and when she met his sable gaze with her own, she couldn't help smiling as she gave advice to the advisor. "Sometimes, you have to be human too." "I am human." "No," she contradicted. "You're the leader of the Tomorrow People. You're the first of a potential next stage in human evolution. You're a shoulder to cry on and the person we turn to when we need help. You live in a tent on an island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, for crying out loud. "But when was the last time you were Adam Newman? *Just* Adam Newman?" Adam broke their tenuous contact to look again at his younger self, still caught in the act of saying good bye. Like the others, the Hispanic, the red head, and the girl, Adam's scene was playing continuously, all of them overlapping one another. "That's what I thought," Lisa continued. "You expect us to trust you implicitly, and we do. But you don't have to be strong all the time. We need to be able to confide in you, but we also need you to be able to confide in us. We're a team." "You left the team, Lisa," Adam quietly reminded her. Lisa sighed. "That's what I thought, too." "What would be enough?" one of the voices demanded. "I dunno," the others answered. "I didn't want things to end." **** End Chapter 6 --=====================_3042054==_ Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"; format=flowed --=====================_3042054==_-- - To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com" with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message. For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send "help" to the same address. Do not use quotes in your message. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "Michele Bumbarger" <mbumbarger@hotmail.com> Subject: (arfic-l) Mistaken Identity (Part 0/12) Date: 08 Nov 2001 16:42:56 -0500 Title: Mistaken Identity Author: Michele R. Mason Email: mbumbarger@hotmail.com Series: Tomorrow People (New Series) Category: Mystery, Action/Adventure, Drama Rating: PG-13 Summary: A case of mistaken identity leads to a family reunion. Disclaimer: Any recognizable characters do not belong to me. Adam Newman, Ami Jackson, Megabyte Damon, Jade Weston, Bill Damon, Mrs. Jackson are all property of Roger Damon Price, Thames/Tetra Television, and ITV. Original characters sprang from the depths of my imagination. Author's Notes: This was my attempt to write a Tomorrow People fic that was not a vignette and not over twenty chapters either. It's been hiding out on my hard drive for a good long time, and I finally have decided to pick it up and dust it off. This story actually is supposed to be a "Tapestry Adventure" following a few days after "Dawning of a New Day." If you know what I'm talking about, great. If not, well, it's not really necessary to have read that story to enjoy this one. Dedication and Thanks: To Anne for going over this and making sure I didn't fall into the American slang trap. Enjoy! Michele Mason Bumbarger Posted: 11.07.01 ********************************************** Alternate Realities Fan Fiction Archive http://www.alternate-realities.net ********************************************** _________________________________________________________________ Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com/intl.asp - To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com" with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message. For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send "help" to the same address. Do not use quotes in your message. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "Michele Bumbarger" <mbumbarger@hotmail.com> Subject: (arfic-l) Mistaken Identity (Part 1/12) Date: 08 Nov 2001 16:44:32 -0500 Mistaken Identity By Michele R Mason Notes & Disclaimer in Part 0 *** Part 1 Delayed. The word flashing on the overhead monitor made Ami groan. She had hoped that if nothing else went right today that at least her aunt's plane would be on time. But, this was one of those Murphy's Law days and it was steadily spiraling downhill. Between the jeans she had ripped, the glass pitcher that she had accidentally broken, and her mother's flat tire, Ami supposed that she shouldn't have been surprised by anything that went wrong. "Looks like we're going to be here a while, Ami. I'm going to go get a coffee." Sherry Jackson pulled her eyes away from the monitor, facing her daughter. "Do you want anything?" "To not be here all afternoon," Ami gave her mother a wry smile, trying to keep her tone light, but failing miserably. "Ami--" She recognized the warning in her mother's voice and she sighed, her shoulders slumping. "I know, I know. And it's not that I don't want to see Aunt Liz, I was just hoping that we wouldn't have to spend hours at the airport." "And I suppose this is cutting into your social schedule? Did you have plans this afternoon?" Not anymore, Ami thought to herself, taking a second glance at the overhead monitor. The plane was delayed by three hours. Perfect. Absolutely perfect. "No, Mum. It's nothing that can't be rescheduled." Nothing except spending the afternoon with Adam. But she wasn't about to tell her mother that; that would lead to questions that she wasn't quite ready to answer yet. At least she wasn't ready to answer them for her mother. "This isn't some sort of mischief that you and the other Tomorrow People are planning to get into is it?" "Mum, don't even start," Ami fumbled with her portable CD player, rolling her eyes. "It's nothing like that. I'll have a hot chocolate, please." Mrs. Jackson stared at her daughter another moment, clearly debating between pursuing the conversation or letting it drop. She decided on the latter as Ami placed the headphones over her head, and with a nod, she hurried towards one of the food stands. Ami adjusted the volume, scanning the busy airport for two empty seats. There was nothing to do but wait. She didn't even notice the waist high bundle of curls and pink jumper until the child had nearly bowled her over. Dark brown eyes stared fearfully up at her, the pouty lips in the cherubic face trembling. Ami pulled off the headphones and kneeled down to put her eye level with the girl. "Are you okay?" The child nodded, chewing on her lower lip. "Shelby!" Another voice pierced the air, and a tailored, black trench coat swept the girl up. The woman smiled apologetically as Ami rose to her feet. "I'm so sorry about that. She's at that age. She wanders off and I just can't seem to keep up." It took a moment for Ami to speak. The roll and cadence of the woman's accent was familiar and surprising. She had never before heard an Australian accent on anyone but Adam. "It's all right. No one was hurt." Ami smiled at the little girl. "Isn't that right, Shelby?" Holding tight to her mother's hand, the child nodded. "She's nice." "Yes, she is." Her mother nodded, and playfully pinched her daughter's nose. "And you're lucky." She returned her attention to Ami. "Again, I apologize." "It's not a problem." Ami watched Shelby and her mother depart with the vague feeling that something wasn't quite right. Unfortunately, for once she simply couldn't pin down what the elusive feeling was. The little girl seemed happy and healthy, and her mother a perfectly wonderful woman. Yet, Ami couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something bad was about to happen. Attempting to choke it up to nerves and her anxiety at being trapped in an airport for three hours, Ami settled into a nearby seat to wait for her mother. Not five minutes passed before the familiar pins and needles feeling of being watched fell over her. She could feel eyes boring into her back, drilling into her as if she were a specimen under a magnifying glass. Shifting, she looked carefully around the airport. And met Shelby's eyes. The little girl was walking away with a man in a dark trench coat. That in itself was nothing to draw Ami's attention-- aside from the bad feeling that pressed on her so hard that she almost couldn't breathe. Where was Shelby's mother? With no time left to ponder, and her heart pounding, Ami followed Shelby and the man. Her father? Then, where was her mother? The question nagged at Ami again. She followed them halfway across the airport and into the parking deck. That was when Shelby began to struggle. She pushed against the man, valiantly trying to free her hand. "No, no! I want my Mummy!" The child's cries cut into Ami's heart. "Hey!" Ami called, breaking into a run. "Hey, where are you taking her? Where's her mother?" The man gave Ami one glance and grabbed the struggling child up in his arms. He broke into a sprint across the parking deck, disappearing around a corner. Ami rounded the corner just in time to see a black car driving away, the struggling Shelby in the backseat. She heard footsteps behind her, and was dimly aware of a police officer coming up along side her. Then came the anguished cry that could only come from a mother's love. "Shelby! My baby!" Ami wondered why she had even gotten out of bed that morning. End of Part 1 ********************************************** Alternate Realities Fan Fiction Archive http://www.alternate-realities.net ********************************************** _________________________________________________________________ Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com/intl.asp - To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com" with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message. For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send "help" to the same address. Do not use quotes in your message. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "Michele Bumbarger" <mbumbarger@hotmail.com> Subject: (arfic-l) Mistaken Identity (Part 2/12) Date: 08 Nov 2001 16:46:02 -0500 Mistaken Identity by Michele R. Mason Notes & Disclaimer in Part 0 *** Part 2 The police officer across the table from Ami leaned forward, the false concern on his face betrayed by the coldness in his steel gray eyes. The other officer sat at the end of the table, relentlessly sketching on a notepad. She had been here for three hours, and that was two hours and fifty-nine minutes too long by her count. The young woman was beginning to think she would have preferred to spend the time bored out of her mind in the airport lobby. Instead, she was sequestered in a security room, repeating the same answers over and over to two men who obviously believed that she possessed all the wit and intellect of a mushroom. "Is there anything else you can tell us, Miss Jackson? Anything at all?" Ami rolled her eyes. "I've told you everything, Inspector Baines. Everything. How many times do you want me to repeat it?" "And you don't know what the man in the--" Inspector Baines referred to his notes. "-- The man in the black trench coat looks like?" "I wasn't watching him." Slumping back in her seat, Ami folded her arms across her chest. "I was worried about the little girl." Baines read his notes carefully, "So, you proceeded to follow the unidentified Caucasian male across the airport and out to the parking deck. You lost sight of him right before he placed the little girl in an nondescript black car and drove away. Is this correct?" "Yes," Ami tried to keep her words from sounding clipped. "And you still don't remember anything about the car or the man?" "No." Folding her arms across her chest, Ami gave a disgusted sigh. "Why do I feel like I'm the one under suspicion? Shouldn't you be trying to find that little girl?" "Miss Jackson, we are doing everything in our power to locate Shelby Logan, however, our investigation would proceed much more smoothly if you could provide us with a bit more information." The second officer spoke up as he snapped his notebook closed. His accent was northern, and his manner was impatient. "Do you have any idea how many black sedans are in London? And how many of them are driven by white males with dark hair?" "Let me guess: All of the ones that aren't driven by white males with blonde hair or white females." That comment earned Ami a dirty glare from both men. Baines closed his notebook slowly. "Do you think that this is funny, young lady?" "No, what I think is that while you're in here trying to poke holes in my story, the person who kidnapped Shelby is getting further and further away." Ami leaned forward, placing her hands on the desk as she stood. "Look, I'm tired. I can't remember anything else. Nothing. And no matter how many questions you ask me, I'm not going to remember anything else, so can I please go now?" "Fine." Baines dismissed her with a flip of his wrist. "Maybe you'll be more cooperative in the morning. After you've had some time to sleep on it, eh?" "In the morning?" Ami's jaw dropped. She did not want to speak to these two men ever, ever again. "Need I remind you that a child has been kidnapped, and you are the only witness, Miss Jackson? We'll need whatever information you can give us-- which right now is apparently not much." Baines stood. "You can come down to headquarters bright and early tomorrow, all right?" Ami snapped her jaw shut, biting back a bitter retort that would probably have landed her in another hour of questioning. Grabbing her jacket and her handbag, she fled the security room. That imbecile and his partner would never find little Shelby Logan. That meant that it was going to be up to her and up to the Tomorrow People. And Ami knew exactly the place to start. End of Part 2 ********************************************** Michele B. Archivist, Author & Webmistress Alternate Realities Fan Fiction Archive http://www.alternate-realities.net ********************************************** _________________________________________________________________ Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com/intl.asp - To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com" with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message. For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send "help" to the same address. Do not use quotes in your message. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "Michele Bumbarger" <mbumbarger@hotmail.com> Subject: (arfic-l) Mistaken Identity (Part 3/12) Date: 08 Nov 2001 16:47:13 -0500 Mistaken Identity By Michele R Mason Notes & Disclaimer in Part 0 *** Part 3 The moment she teleported into the Ship, Ami could tell that Adam's happiness to see her didn't outweigh his concern. That, naturally, was her fault. She had only given him a quick explanation of why she had to cancel their afternoon plans, and then caught up in the kidnapping and the inquisition-- as she now dubbed her questioning-- she had brushed off all telepathic prompting and questions. Not just from Adam, but from Jade and Megabyte as well, but Adam was the one here and he was one the one she had to deal with. "Ami? Is everything all right?" Adam stared at her from his position on the floor. "I'm sorry for being so rude. I was busy." Ami dropped to the floor beside him and planted a quick kiss on his cheek. She continued before Adam could interrupt. "I saw a kidnapping and I was being questioned by the police. I'm their only witness." It only took Adam a moment to reign in his surprise. "A kidnapping? What happened?" As quickly as she could, Ami filled him on the details of everything that had happened: from the moment Shelby ran into her until she finally left the security office. "I came here because I thought that if I could remember something, anything, it would help that little girl." "Well," Adam pushed himself to his feet and held out a hand to her, "Baines certainly sounds far more competent than Platt did at any rate. Let's see what we can come up with." Ami smiled, slipping her hands into his and allowing him to help her to her feet. "I was hoping you would say that." "What did you expect me to say? No way, leave her lost?" His eyes twinkled as he made the joke, but Ami could already see the thinking and planning going on behind Adam's dark eyes. If the Tomorrow People hadn't been getting mixed up in mischief earlier, as her mother suggested, they certainly were now. "Adam, do you ever get the feeling that trouble just follows us?" Ami stood in front of him, holding his dark gaze. For one moment, she almost allowed herself to get lost in that gaze, but then, Shelby's face flashed in her mind's eye and she remembered the reason that she was here. Adam must have been having similar thoughts, because he suddenly dropped her hands and stepped backwards, holding his palms out. "It's all part of being a Tomorrow Person. Now, are we going to do this?" Ami mirrored his stance, and in the blinking of an eye, the merge was formed. [Look for the license number on the car,] Adam urged her telepathically. [That's something tangible that you can give to Inspector Baines.] [Right,] Ami agreed and allowed the memories to overtake her. She started from her arrival at the airport and discovering that her aunt's flight had been delayed. In her mind, she was at the airport again; the sights, sounds and smells assaulted her, and the events of the day replayed themselves. Her mother moved away to get coffee, and as she moved toward a set of vacant seats something slammed into her. She looked down into Shelby's eyes-- Adam gasped, and an almost suffocating wave of shock barreled into her. The mind-merge was broken, Adam's shields effectively going up before she could quite register what had come over him. "Adam?" Ami touched his arm tentatively. He might have been shielding his thoughts and emotions, but he wasn't hiding the haunted shadows behind his eyes. He whispered his question. "Was that the little girl? Was that Shelby?" Ami nodded. "Shelby Logan." "Shelby Logan," Adam repeated the name softly, his thoughts turned inward. Then he gave her a slight smile. "I'm sorry, Ami. She reminded me of someone I used to know. I didn't mean to react like that." "If you don't want to do this, Adam--" He brushed off her comments with a shake of his head. "I'm all right now. It was just a momentary shock. You want to get to the bottom of this, don't you?" Torn between allowing Adam to wrestle with whatever demons from his past haunted him, and pursuing the mind-merge that might help them find little Shelby Logan, Ami stared silently at him for a moment. Finally, she decided that they'd have to worry about Adam's phantoms later-- there was a little lost girl who was of primary importance. Ami resumed her stance for the merge. "Ready whenever you are." Adam's empty smile did little to comfort her. "Let's find a kidnapper." End of Part 3 ********************************************** Alternate Realities Fan Fiction Archive http://www.alternate-realities.net ********************************************** _________________________________________________________________ Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com/intl.asp - To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com" with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message. For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send "help" to the same address. Do not use quotes in your message. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "Michele Bumbarger" <mbumbarger@hotmail.com> Subject: (arfic-l) Mistaken Identity (Part 4/12) Date: 08 Nov 2001 16:49:20 -0500 Mistaken Identity By Michele R. Mason Notes & Disclaimer in Part 0 *** Part 4 It never ceased to amaze Ami that no matter what the time or the hour, police headquarters would always be busy. Particularly if any number of the Tomorrow People were arriving there to speak with someone important. The mind-merge had yielded a license plate number, as well as description of the kidnapper. Adam had done a quick sketch of the man from his and Ami's shared memories, but they had both decided that the sketch would be hard to explain to Inspector Baines and company; temporarily, they were keeping it unmentioned. "I need to see Inspector Baines," Ami informed the dispatcher behind the desk. The woman looked warily at her. "If you're here about the noise disturbance, your friends are in cell-- " "I'm here to see Inspector Baines about the kidnapping." The woman was evidently prepared to dismiss her, when Ami heard the familiar voice of the Inspector. "Miss Jackson? Did you forget something?" Ami flashed the dispatcher a honey-sweet smile and turned her attention to the Inspector. "Actually, Inspector, I remembered something." "You remembered something? Just like that?" "I told you, I needed some time to think." Ami folded her arms stubbornly across her chest. "Now, do you want me to tell you what I remember, or should I just go home and go to bed while some little girl is probably locked up--" "I am an officer of the law, Miss Jackson. I expect some respect." "Then why don't you show Ami some respect?" Adam spoke up from behind her. Inspector Baines gave the young man a glance. "And you are?" "He's a friend," Ami explained quickly. "It doesn't matter. Inspector, please, I have a license number." Evidently it did matter to Inspector Baines who Adam was and what he was doing there, but after giving the young man a hard stare, he quickly grabbed a pen and paper from the closest desk. "What is it?" "D-K-7-9-3-4." "D-K-7-9-3-4? You're certain of this, Miss Jackson." "Positive." After the Inspector departed to look up the license, Adam shook his head. "Maybe he isn't so much better than Platt after all." Ami shrugged. "At least he listened to me." They found seats near the wall and settled down comfortably. "Do you think he'll tell us if he finds anything?" Ami asked. "I doubt it." Adam leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and folding his hands. "He'll probably send us off for ice cream." Ami allowed herself a small giggle. The first all day. She rested her hand on his. "Thank you, Adam. I know I wouldn't have been able to rest if I didn't do something to help find Shelby." "We haven't found her yet, Ami." Adam captured her hand in both of his. [Don't worry, I'm not about to leave this entirely in the hands of the police.] [Then what are we going to do?] [Wait for Baines, first. See what he finds out. Then we'll go from there.] "Megabyte and Jade are going to hate that they missed this," Ami sighed. "You know how Jade is about adventure." "Let's not mention this to Jade. Besides, once we get a license number, it should be no problem finding and rescuing Shelby." Adam paused, giving her hand a squeeze. [I think we can handle this without the reinforcements.] "Miss Jackson, I wish that I could say thank you, but I can't." Inspector Baines approached them, stopping a few paces from she and Adam sat. "Unfortunately, you remembered wrong. There is no license anywhere with that number." "But there is!" Ami leapt to her feet in protest. "I remember it exactly. That's the right number!" "Perhaps we placed too much pressure on you earlier, and now you're attempting to compensate by creating a memory that--" "The number is right, Inspector. Maybe you should check again," Adam rose, placing his hand on Ami's shoulder. He projected a sense of tranquility to her, his touch pleading with her to remain calm and relaxed. "First of all, young man, I have no idea who you are. Second of all, this is a police investigation and I have no idea what you are doing here-- " "Moral support," Adam supplied quickly. "Moral sup--" Inspector Baines drew himself up short. "Third, the license is wrong." "It's right," Adam insisted. "Ami has a very good memory." "Then why didn't she remember these little details earlier?" Ami glared darkly at the officer, "Maybe it's because you were putting so much pressure on me and asking so many questions that I got confused." "Look, it's been a very long and very tiring day, Miss Jackson. For all of us. It's a simple mistake that anyone could make--" "But it's not a mistake--" Inspector Baines overrode her protest. "Take your boyfriend here and go home. If you remember anything else, give me a call. But not before tomorrow morning." "Inspector--" Adam's hand placed firmly on her arm restrained her, both physically and verbally. "Let's go, Ami. It's pretty clear that we're not going to make any progress here. Good night, Inspector." Before she could object, Adam slipped his arm around her waist and forcibly guided her from the police station. End of Part 4 ********************************************** Alternate Realities Fan Fiction Archive http://www.alternate-realities.net ********************************************** _________________________________________________________________ Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com/intl.asp - To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com" with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message. For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send "help" to the same address. Do not use quotes in your message. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "Michele Bumbarger" <mbumbarger@hotmail.com> Subject: (arfic-l) Mistaken Identity (Part 5/12) Date: 09 Nov 2001 09:16:31 -0500 Mistaken Identity by Michele R Mason Notes & Disclaimer in Part 0 A thank you to everyone who's commented on this. I feel a lot better posting when I know that someone is reading and appreciating my hardwork. For those of you are waiting for more "Entangled," the wait won't be very long, I promise you. But I am going to finish posting this story before going back to "Entangled." Please be patient with me :-) Thanks! *** Part 5 "I just don't get it, Adam." Ami and Adam stood on the sidewalk outside of police headquarters. "That license number. It was right. You know that it was." Adam remained silent, holding onto the medallion he wore around his neck. Ami knew that he wasn't ignoring her; the glassy-eyed stare that came over him, and slight furrow in his brow told her that he was thinking; he was attempting to make connections that they might have missed. Finally, his dark eyes focused on her. "It doesn't make any sense to me either. Unless someone has gone through a lot of trouble to make certain they had an unregistered license." Adam released the medallion, but his frown remained. "That kind of trouble means we're dealing with someone very wealthy, very powerful, or both. "It also implies--" Adam stopped and shook his head. "No. Can't be." Ami waited. "Implies what? Adam?" "It's not important." "Maybe it is." Adam took her by the hand, pulling her gently along beside him as he headed away from police headquarters. "I was just thinking that anyone that put that much effort into a kidnapping would have to have been planning it for quite sometime." "But Shelby and her mother just arrived here today." "I know, that's what bothers me. To plan this, someone would have had to know that the Logans were going to be arriving in London today," Adam slowed his pace, his brow wrinkling again. "But that doesn't make any sense. They're not wealthy or influential--" Ami pulled up short, "How do you know? Maybe that's what the Inspector didn't tell me." Again, she felt the subtle shifts in Adam's mental shields. "Because, if they were, Inspector Baines would be working a lot harder to find Shelby. And police headquarters would be a media circus. I think that there's something we're missing here." "If you can figure out what it is, then I would love to hear it." Ami regretted her icy tone the moment the words left her mouth. Her heavy sigh was punctuated by a gentle touch on Adam's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Adam. I guess that it's just been a long day. I'm starting to get snappish." "S'all right," Adam rubbed her shoulder affectionately. "I kind of forgot that you spent most of your day at the mercy of the Inspector. What do you say we get something to eat and compare notes?" Adam's words gripped her stomach like a vice. She had forgotten all about her mother's plans to take her Aunt Liz out for a birthday celebration at a very elite French restaurant. When she had left police headquarters to go to the Ship, she had promised to be home with plenty of time to shower, dress, and socialize. Ami could picture her mother pacing the length of the living room and muttering about Ami's irresponsibility and unreliability. It was not a pretty picture. Ami groaned, "Oh, no." "Ami?" Adam didn't attempt to hide the concern and confusion in his voice; or that she felt coming through his hands on her shoulders. " We're supposed to be taking my Aunt Liz out tonight. I completely forgot about it." Adam gave her a smile. "Then you better go. I know your Mum. Tell you what, I'll go back to the ship--" Adam's voice faded to a dull cadence at the back of her mind, mingling with the background noises of the London streets. She gazed over his shoulder, her eyes focused on a black sedan parked across the street from them. The man climbing into the black sedan was the mirror of the sketch she knew Adam still had in his pocket. And the license plate-- Ami squinted to read it from the distance-- D-K-7-9-3-4. "Adam!" Ami's voice was sharper than she intended as she returned her attention to him. "The car. That's the car!" Adam followed her gaze until it landed on the car pulling slowly away from the curb. Then he turned and raised his hand to hail a taxi. "I'll follow them." "I'm coming with you," Ami insisted as a taxi slowed in front of them. "What about your aunt?" "It'll have to wait. This is much more important." The two piled into the taxi, and after giving the driver directions to follow the sedan, Adam smiled at Ami. "Why do I feel like I just stepped into a detective movie?" "You're not the only one." The sedan followed a leisurely pace through London. Obviously, the driver had little if any concern about being followed. However, when it pulled into a parking garage and the taxi cruised to a halt across the street, Ami and Adam released a collective gasp. The black sedan with unregistered plates had just parked at the WorldEx Securities building. End of Part 5 ********************************************** Alternate Realities Fan Fiction Archive http://www.alternate-realities.net ********************************************** _________________________________________________________________ Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com/intl.asp _________________________________________________________________ Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com/intl.asp - To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com" with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message. For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send "help" to the same address. Do not use quotes in your message. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Wendy Perkins <ladyslvr@xmission.com> Subject: (arfic-l) Grimm's Law - Part 07/10 Date: 09 Nov 2001 11:33:33 -0600 --=====================_4242123==_ Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"; format=flowed --=====================_4242123==_ Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" Grimm's Law A Tomorrow's Future Story by Wendy Perkins ladyslvr@xmission.com Part 07 of 10 Chapter 7 But mother . . ." a new, but known, voice whined. Lisa didn't have to face it to know what words were going to come next. In her mind's eye she could see the hideous pink formal dress; could feel her mother's hands picking at her, straightening imaginary wrinkles, removing imaginary dust particles. "The only actors in them are dogs," she heard herself say. That was the night of the talent show, the one she hadn't wanted to go to because she knew she'd be the only one there over the age of eight. But her mother had insisted and, as usual, got what she wanted since she had cultivated her selective hearing to an art form. It had been a talent show, all right, but not for the talent she had wanted to show. That was the night Lisa had teleported for the first time, and started the chain of events from which she had only thought herself freed. What had sounded like reasonable arguments at the time now sounded like the complaints of a spoiled child. Embarrassing complaints that she was glad no one but Adam was witness to. Unless . . . And there was Sara again. The same face, same long hair. This new sequence started off to the side, almost out of sight. The sense of movement got Lisa's attention first. She glanced at it, pulled her head back in surprise, then whispered, "Adam, look." They saw the teenager walking through endless space; there were no walls, decorations or carpet, so no indication of where she was or what she was doing. She stopped and looked around, as if planning her next move. Pulling a small vial out of her jeans, she unscrewed the top and waved it beneath her nose. With a satisfied nod, she leaned across something invisible and started to pour out the liquid, one careful drop at a time. Beneath her bracing arm, a bed became visible. With it, the older Asian woman who was napping on it, her mouth open. The woman wore a tailored black business suit minus the blazer, and was prone on top of the untucked bed sheets. The drops fell into the woman's mouth. She snorted, her face screwing up in displeasure, but didn't awaken. Two more drops, and she reacted again, this time in pain. She sat up suddenly, awake, hands clawing at her chest. Turning a panicked gaze to the girl, she mouthed something undiscernible. In response, the girl pocketed the now empty vial and vanished. She didn't fade out of view; she teleported, complete with the flash of light and the pop of imploding air. Then the whole scene erased, as if it never happened. Lisa opened her mouth to comment, and couldn't control the rush of words that followed. "That was Sara. Did you see it, Adam? She's one of us for sure. I know a teleport when I see one, though I have no idea how to explain the rest of what we saw. That was her memory. Adam, we know she's here. I think they're all here: Alejandro, and, what was that guys' name? Eric," she said, recalling the stitching on his jacket. "They are," he said, simply. "They're not supposed to be, but they are." "I saw that guy walk through the door, and now we're watching one of his memories," she continued, oblivious to his comment. "We came through, and--" she made a vague gesture with her hands that meant see for yourself', "and Sara's here, and . . . she said there had been others. How many others? "What kind of others?" she stopped, eyes widening as she started figuring out the answers to her own questions. "Oh God. She *told* me the door wasn't an exit." Before Adam could speak again, she was striding back across the threshold, back into the world of grey inhabited by one lonely soul. "You have to let them go," she yelled, willing the girl to hear, wherever she was. "You brought them here, and you're keeping them here. But they don't belong here, Sara." "No one's ever answered before, Lisa," came the timid response. "I told them not to go through. I told them, and they didn't answer." "That's no excuse," Lisa said. "No excuse. Can't you see that you're the one keeping them here?" Then, recalling another part of their first conversation, Lisa asked, "What are you waiting for?" The answer was slow in coming. At some point she became aware of Adam standing next to her, and then of his presence in her mind, lending strength and patience. The ship was there too, just a dull hum in the back of her consciousness. Then both feelings started to recede, and she could feel the mind merge coming to an end. [Wait,] she protested, struggling against waking up. Lisa reached to grab the teen's wrist, a temporary anchor she hoped until she at least got that question answered. Instead Sara froze into place, a stricken look on her face. Her skin had drained of color. "There will be no touching," Sara informed her in a flat, clipped voice. "Not at all." Sara struggled to release herself from Lisa's grip; Lisa held on tight. This wasn't the real world, and physical contact here abided by no rules except those believed by the minds of the participants. In that, Lisa had the advantage because her mind was set. [Sara,] she warned, tightening her hold. [We have to go,] Adam said, sounding distantly panicked. The girl struggled, and Lisa could feel the reality of the ship begin to dominate over the perception of the mind merge. At the last moment, Sara stopped fighting the contact and, with a baleful expression, rammed Lisa's mind with her own, hitting her with every thought at her disposal in one, unfocussed attack. **** Lisa woke up this time passing through all the stages of sleep painfully and with great reluctance. A headache pounded in her temples that she knew would get worse when she opened her eyes. She'd never had a hangover, but she was pretty sure if couldn't be anywhere near as bad as this. Lisa curled her arm around the pillow, burying her head in the security it promised . . . if she could return to sleep. Instinctively, she turned towards the wall, towards the darkest part of the room. It wasn't night time; the pink light she saw behind her eyelids gave mute evidence to the time of day. It hurt her head more just to think about the increased brightness if she succumbed and opened her eyes. But sleep would not come. It wasn't dark enough, the noises were all wrong, and now her throat burned with an abrupt announcement of dehydration. She gave in, turned away from the wall and let her eyes flutter open. The light wasn't quite as bright as she had anticipated, but it still burned.Then it began to resolve: first into colors, then shapes, then textures. The color and shapes and textures became Adam. He was leaning over her, concern marring his gentle face. Out of nowhere a hand pressed against her forehead. It felt cool and dry, and then her head didn't hurt quite so much. "How do you feel?" he asked. The response stuck in her throat. She tried to muster enough saliva to swallow, relieve the soreness long enough to answer, but to no avail. With a shake of her head, she collapsed back against the pillow. Somehow Adam seemed to understand anyway. He disappeared from her view, then returned a minute later with a coffee mug. Together they got her sitting up enough to drink the cold water, which almost hurt her throat more than the light had hurt her eyes. This pain was welcomed, though, it was temporary in itself and it banished another. She accepted the mug from Adam and pressed this new coolness to her forehead. "I know I'm going to regret this," Lisa said, "but . . . what happened back there?" She was able to sit up now as straight as the limited space under the bunk bed allowed, and she was hot. Too hot. She pushed the blankets down the end of the bed; blankets, she saw, which had been pulled up around her as if she had been tucked in. "You passed out. I couldn't wake you," he answered simply. That explained the tucking in. "So you brought me here," she said. To her dorm room. Thank goodness Tanya hadn't been there. "Yes. The Ship thought you'd be safer there." He took a seat on the floor, crossed his legs, then leaned forward with his elbows planted on his knees. "I thought you wouldn't want to hang around there if you didn't have to." "Thank you," she said. He hesitated, then continued, "Megabyte and Jade were on their way to the ship." "I--" "I brought you here before they arrived." She blinked, considering what he just told her. He did understand. Without being told, without the topic even coming up, Adam understood that she wasn't ready yet to deal with the other Tomorrow People. He was going to let her readjust on her own terms. Or, at least, the terms Sara allowed them. "Thank you," she said again. "I mean it." "You're welcome." She took a long sip of the water, then turned so she was sitting on the side of the bed instead of laying in it. "So, did we learn anything? Was it worth it?" "I think the Ship was trying to give us some answers," Adam replied. "Answers? It didn't show us anything that made any sense." Lisa said, her memories of the mind-merge beginning to surface. "Wasn't this supposed to tell us what to do next?" "It doesn't work like that," Adam said. "The Ship allows us to re-access information we all ready have. It'll show us what we need to know, but only if we already know it." He stood up and started to pace, the nervous energy that had long been his hallmark needing outlet. "This time it connected us with Sara, so her thoughts were in the mix too. It must have had a reason for showing us the things it did." "It wanted to confuse us?" Lisa asked, with mock hopefulness. "The Ship isn't malicious, Lisa. It's on our side; it wants to help us as much as it can." "I mean, what did we learn?" she continued as if Adam hadn't spoken, "Sara's doing something to some people for some reason that's causing big problems." She scowled. "That was so vague it was barely a sentence. Why didn't the Ship just tell us what to do? There was a lot of stuff happening in my head, but it didn't show us the one thing we went there to find out: how to find her." "Maybe it did," Adam said, growing thoughtful. "What?" Lisa demanded. "What did you see?" "I think we should look in the obituaries." He started pacing again. "You think she's dead! Then how did the Ship connect us with her? Don't tell me that ghosts can mind merge." "No." Lisa sighed "Good. That was just too creepy. I don't even want to think about ghosts." "I think she killed someone." "That's not any better! Where'd you get that from?" Lisa stood up, almost hitting her head on the top bunk in the process. "Please stop pacing; you're making me nervous. We can't kill, Adam. Remember? Or did something change while I was out of the loop?" Adam shook his head. "No, and yes." "Oh, that clears things right up." He sat on the edge of Tanya's desk. "Did you hear what happened over the summer?" "Uh-uh. But I'll take a guess and say it wasn't any fun." The corner of Adam's mouth quirked up in an involuntary smile. "No, it wasn't any fun," he said. He pushed a stack of books out of the way, got more comfortable on the desk, and told her the whole story. There had been yet another in a seemingly endless line of secret government projects intended to use telepaths and teleporters as spies and assassins. In the end, they had caught the people responsible, and learned of at least a dozen teenagers who should have become Tomorrow People. Their destiny had been stolen when they'd been forced to commit the one crime of which Tomorrow People can't even conceive. "That's awful!" Lisa responded, fighting off a wave of revulsion. "You think she was part of that?" "I think it's a place to start. Where's the library?" Adam held up his hands, palms facing her. He wants to teleport there? Oh, won't that be a riot . . . in more ways than one. "About two blocks from here," she answered, deliberately not matching his gesture. "but," she looked at his feet on which he had slipped a pair of laceless shoes appropriate for the beach and little else, "You're going to need socks." "Socks?" "And a jacket. Remember, December in this part of the world means winter. It's cold outside. And we can't just teleport in." Off his confused look, she explained, "Finals are next week; the place is going to be packed." The sentence still hung in the air when the door to the room crashed open. "This is so unfair!" Tanya burst into the room, a crumpled sheaf of papers clutched in her right hand. "Can you believe how unfair this is? I worked on this forever, and that dumb professor practically flunked me. I can't believe he *did* this to me?" She held aloft the sheaf, revealing it to be a research paper. Lines of tight, red writing marred the lower half of the cover page. Lisa blinked once, trying to adjust to the shift in conversation. "What did who do to you?" she asked, before it occurred to her that it might have been better to keep her mouth shut. She grimaced as that thought caught up with her, then held her breath while she awaited the forthcoming barrage of words. Beside her, Adam seemed calm, almost expectant of the interruption. But, the flicker of panic Lisa felt in her mind gave him away. "That dumb professor. You know. I worked on this paper for, like, a whole day and he had to go and give me a B+. Can you believe it? He said it's too long, and," she squinted at the writing, "'the argument isn't carefully defended'. Yeah, whatever that means. Like you can deal with that topic in ten pages and even begin to stay what needs to be said. If he knew his material better, he'd know that this is an A paper." "I know I'm going to regret this," Lisa said, "but which 'dumb professor'?" "You know, Prof. G." Tanya stormed over to her desk, threw the paper on it, then picked it back up and tucked it into the lower drawer. "He's going to ruin my whole grade point average. And I'm never going to forgive you, either," she said, rounding on Adam. He opened his mouth to respond, but she didn't give him the chance. "We were supposed to have a coffee date? Or has Lisa been saying bad things about me again? Is that why you didn't show up? You told me you loved coffee, and I love coffee, so it just shows that we're destined for each other. We both love French Silk Mochas. How much more perfect is that? I waited for you for, like, hours at that coffee shop and you didn't even have the decency to show up. I have never been stood up before, and I'm not going to start tolerating it now." She glared at him. "Well, aren't you going to apologize?" "Pardon?" Adam said, sounding more like he wanted to be anywhere else really fast. "And you," Tanya continued, aiming her glare at Lisa, "How could you not tell me that the shop was closed? The sign on the window says that Health Officials closed it last semester. You know, you could have saved me tons of embarrassment if you'd mentioned *something*. I would have told you. But, no, you let me stand outside that shop, making a complete fool of myself. I hope no one saw me." She stormed back across the room to her closet, where she began rooting through the clothes that threatened to burst out of it. "Now I'm going to have to change so no one recognizes me. Thanks a lot. I was hoping not to have to do laundry this weekend." She yanked something out of the closet that looked like a large, red t-shirt. Turning around, she held the hanger up under her chin, revealing the article to be a short sleeved dress that barely reached mid-thigh. "What do you think?" "Umm, it's December," Lisa said, feeling oddly repetitive. "It's cold out. You're going to freeze if you wear that." "Who's Professor G?" Adam asked. "Greenberg," Lisa replied. "We have an English class with him. Why?" "I don't know. It just feels important. I feel like there's something--" "Greenberg? I don't think so," Tanya interrupted. "Greenberg is such a loser. I dropped his class like on the second day. I'm taking it with that other guy now. You know, the one with the beard." "Beard?" "I think he has a beard. Do you remember if he had a beard? No, you wouldn't, cuz you can't seem to remember *anything*. You need to pay attention better." She let the dress drop to the floor, turned around and began rooting through the closet again. Seconds later, she emerged with a black pantsuit. "He's the one with the kid. The papers went on and on about it over the summer. Like no one else ever had a kid run away before. Please. He's so mean he's probably got her locked in the attic." Adam had a strange, thoughtful look on his face. "Is his name Grimm?" he asked while Tanya took a breath. [What are you doing?] Lisa asked, his question catching her off guard. [Playing a hunch,] Adam responded, then: [Welcome back.] Tanya rolled her eyes. "Duh. I told you that. God." Without a comment, she added the pantsuit to the growing pile on the floor and returned to her closet. Lisa turned to Adam slowly. "She is at this school. She's just not a student here. Come on." She pulled him into the hallway, making sure the door shut behind them. "Look, go home, get some socks on," she whispered, knowing that Tanya could listen through the door. "A jacket, too, if you have one. Then meet me . . ." She threw her hands up. "I don't know. Meet me at the English building." "You know where this Professor is?" "No. But if he teaches here, he's got to have an office. We find the office, we find him. The problem is catching him during office hours. Professors are notorious for scheduling their office hours on something other than Earth time." Adam nodded, and looked up and down the hallway. The mural was finished, and for once since its inception, the hallway was empty. "The English building," he said. "Yes. Find me." He nodded again, then vanished. **** End Chapter 7 --=====================_4242123==_ Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"; format=flowed --=====================_4242123==_-- - To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com" with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message. For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send "help" to the same address. Do not use quotes in your message. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "Michele Bumbarger" <mbumbarger@hotmail.com> Subject: (arfic-l) Mistaken Identity (Part 6/12) Date: 10 Nov 2001 10:18:12 -0500 Mistaken Identity By Michele R Mason Notes & Disclaimer in Part 0 *** Part 6 "Are you wondering what I'm wondering?" Adam leaned against the wall. His eyes were focused on the building across the street -- the WorldEx building. "Why the kidnappers would be going to WorldEx?" Ami asked. "Precisely." Adam furrowed his brow again. "They could work there, but that still doesn't explain why they would kidnap a five year old little girl." "Nothing about this kidnapping is making any sense at all, Adam." Ami muttered. "If I didn't know better, I would almost think that it was supposed to be witnessed." Adam swung his head around to look at her. "What do you mean? You think someone knew you were going to be at the airport and wanted you to see it?" Ami shook her head. "No, not me necessarily. Just someone. Someone who could report it to the police." "Then that goes back to our theory of the whole thing being staged." Adam suddenly brightened, giving her a gentle nudge in the back. "Come on. I want to get a closer look at that car and our kidnappers." By the time they reached the inside of the garage, the kidnappers, if that's who they truly were, were long gone. However, the car remained. [Adam, we don't have any way of knowing where they went,] Ami commented. Adam lifted the door handle slowly, clearly surprised when the latch clicked without an alarm sounding. [We don't have to. Help me out here.] [Doing what?] [Clues. Any sort of clues that could tell us who these people are and why they wanted Shelby.] Adam was already riffling through the glove box, and under the front seats. Ami followed suit, climbing into the backseat. She placed her hand on something hard and sharp, and drew it back with a yelp. The yelp of pain quickly turned to a howl of excitement-- she had placed her hand on a small plastic hair clip. "A hair clip?" Adam whispered, peeking through the crack between the seats. "A little girl's hair clip," Ami corrected him. "And I remember Shelby was wearing this one." Adam smiled his familiar lopsided grin. "Then we're onto something. Now we just have to find a way to follow them when-- I know." Ami followed his thoughts and shook her head. "No way, Adam. It's too dangerous." Adam climbed out of the car, Ami quick on his heels. He was already lifting the boot by the time she had closed all three car doors and returned the hair clip to its place. "Adam, this is nuts." "This is the only way to find out where they're keeping Shelby." Adam informed her. "Look, I'll be fine. If anything happens, I'll just teleport away." "What if they have guns?" "I'll hope I don't get shot." "Save the jokes for Megabyte." "Ami, look on the bright side. I might just be able to rescue Shelby, too." Ami was unconvinced, but realized that she was not about to win this argument with Adam. He had already made up his mind. "And what am I supposed to do while you're playing stowaway?" "Go visit General Damon in Vermont. See if he can identify the man in this picture." Adam pressed the sketch into her hand. "And tell him about the license. I'll be in touch." Ami quickly made contact with Megabyte to make arrangements to speak with his father. She had already teleported when she remembered something Adam had said: "That still doesn't explain why they kidnapped a five-year-old girl." No one had ever mentioned Shelby's age to her-- how could Adam know it? End of Part 6 ********************************************** Alternate Realities Fan Fiction Archive http://www.alternate-realities.net ********************************************** _________________________________________________________________ Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com/intl.asp - To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com" with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message. For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send "help" to the same address. Do not use quotes in your message. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "Michele Bumbarger" <mbumbarger@hotmail.com> Subject: (arfic-l) Mistaken Identity (Part 7/12) Date: 10 Nov 2001 10:20:49 -0500 Mistaken Identity By Michele R Mason Notes & Disclaimer in Part 0 *** Part 7 Vermont was cold and too late Ami realized that she had forgotten her gloves. She had only been standing in the snow for thirty seconds, but that was thirty seconds too long. She was cold, and the snow was flaking on her nose and eyelashes. Shoving her hand in her coat pockets, she marched forward towards Megabyte and the General. "What's this all about?" Megabyte demanded. "Why do you need to see us?" Ami decided not to mention that she and Adam had requested to see the General; Megabyte just happened to be there. "Please, Megabyte, can we go somewhere warm and then I'll explain everything?" Her teeth were almost chattering. General Damon eyed her with concern. "Ami, don't you have a heavier coat? And a pair of gloves?" "I'm not used to this sort of cold," Ami explained, giving the man a reassuring smile. "And I forgot my gloves." "That was bright," Megabyte remarked sarcastically. Then much to her surprise, he pulled off his own gloves and handed them to her with a shrug. "I grew up around here. I'm used to it." General Damon insisted on giving her his coat despite her very loud and numerous protests, and the three of them trudged back to the country inn that was only five minutes away. Unfortunately, in the cold, five minutes seemed like ten to Ami. She made a mental note to ask Megabyte why she had to teleport in to meet him in a field beyond the inn. Once inside, the General forcibly deposited Ami in front of the fireplace, only allowing her to begin speaking when her teeth had stopped chattering. "Megabyte said that you and Adam think this could be important," General Damon opened the conversation as he handed the young woman a cup of hot chocolate. "Something about a kidnapping involving World Ex?" Ami sipped the hot chocolate. "It could involve WorldEx, General. I better start at the beginning." For what felt like the hundredth time that day, Ami launched into her story. Only this time, she was able to add on the license number information and the pursuit to WorldEx. When she was done, the General stared at her thoughtfully, while Megabyte complained. "I can't believe it. I'm here watching ice form and you and Adam are off chasing kidnappers," Megabyte growled. He glanced at his father, "Hey, Dad--" "No, Marmaduke. You are not getting involved in this." General Damon didn't even look at his son. "I don't think that Adam and Ami should be involved either, but I'm pretty sure that I won't be able to talk them out of it. "Where is Adam, by the way?" "He's in the kidnappers car." Ami sipped the chocolate again. "He's stowing away to see where they go." "But he's all right? You're able to contact him?" Ami nodded. "And you're positive that the license number was--" General Damon paused, clearly fumbling through his memory. "D-K-7-9-3-4," Ami quickly supplied. "I can probably say it in my sleep now. I can probably see it in my sleep now." "It was a mind merge, Dad," Megabyte informed his father. "More reliable than a photographic memory." "I guess I'll just have to take your word on that, son," General Damon stood. "I'm going to make some phone calls back to the London office and find out what I can learn about this unregistered car. I'm also going to see if anyone who works for WorldEx matches your description of the kidnapper. "Can I trust you two not disappear into thin air while I'm gone?" "Until we hear from Adam, we don't have anywhere to go," Megabyte remarked dryly. "Well, then, if you hear from Adam while I'm out, will you kindly stay put?" Ami could tell the General's words were directed more at his son than they were at her, but still she smiled and nodded. "We'll do our best," she promised. Megabyte watched his father's retreat for a moment before coming to sit on the sofa beside Ami. He grabbed several sweets from the decorative dish in the center of the table, ate them in silence, and finished his hot chocolate before turning those bright, inquisitive eyes on her. "So, what's going on with you and Adam, anyway?" Ami nearly dropped the mug of hot chocolate. She pretended to not understand her friend's question. "I told you already. We're trying to find out who kidnapped-- " His blue eyes met hers. [I'm not talking about the kidnapping.] [Then what are you talking about?] Ami couldn't help but feel a bit defensive. She had anticipated this question eventually, but she had rather expected that it would come from Jade. She thought Megabyte would have chosen to approach Adam. Then again, this was Megabyte. He tended to do the unexpected at times. The problem was that she didn't really have an answer to his question. A week ago, she and Adam had been just friends and fellow Tomorrow People, and she had been trying to cope with a battery of confusing and distracting feelings toward the Australian. But that had been before that morning at the beach, before things had subtly changed between them. Now-- well, now, things were different, but on some level, they had remained the same. There were no words to tell Megabyte what she didn't know herself. Ami stared down at her lap. "I don't know," she whispered. "You don't know?" Megabyte repeated the words. "It's complicated, Megabyte." "Do you like him or not?" Ami debated whether or not she could properly misinterpret Megabyte's question in a believable manner. Probably not. "Yes," she breathed. "Yes, all right. Are you happy now? Now, can we please talk about something else?" "Jeez, you don't have to get all bent out of shape," Megabyte frowned at her, shaking his head and giving his shoulders a shrug. "I only asked because-- well, it seems kind of like he likes you too and well, I don't know, but maybe you should tell him." Ami blinked in surprise. That was not a comment that she expected coming from Megabyte. She still remembered how jealous he was of Adam's time with Lucy; he hadn't liked sharing his friend with the young journalism student. He seemed to cling to stability, to maintaining the status quo, and certainly, a change in her relationship with Adam would affect that. "I'm not that shallow," Megabyte argued, clearly noticing her stray and unshielded thoughts. "And anyone's better for Adam than Lucy Allen." Ami set the mug of hot chocolate on the table. "It wouldn't bother you, then? I mean if Adam and I--" she couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence. A few kisses did not amount to a fairy tale romance; she wouldn't allow her thoughts to stray that far. "As long as Jade doesn't get any ideas about me, we'll all get along fine," Megabyte promised. "But the minute she even looks at me with that puppy dog stare-- " "Megabyte, she always looks at you with that puppy dog stare." The words were enough to bring a blush to Megabyte's cheeks and a scowl to his face. He glared at her. "I don't know why you and Adam and my Dad think it's so funny." [Ami, Megabyte, you're not going to believe this.] Adam's familiar accent sounded in their heads. [Can I come there?] Megabyte gave the hallway a quick glance. [It's all clear for the moment, pal.] [Good.] The familiar tingle of static and energy filled the air as a loud popping sound filled the room accompanied by a bright flash of light. Where there had once been only empty air, Adam stood. "What's up, Adam?" Megabyte prompted. "I found Shelby," Adam explained. "The kidnappers are keeping her in an old deserted warehouse down in the districts." Ami felt her heart soar. "You rescued her, then?" "No, actually I left her there--" "You left her there?" Ami and Megabyte's voices echoed in stereo. Adam held up a hand to ward off their questions. "Look, she's safe for now. And I can explain everything, but first I need to talk to General Damon." End of Part 7 ********************************************** Alternate Realities Fan Fiction Archive http://www.alternate-realities.net ********************************************** _________________________________________________________________ Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com/intl.asp - To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com" with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message. For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send "help" to the same address. Do not use quotes in your message. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "Michele Bumbarger" <mbumbarger@hotmail.com> Subject: (arfic-l) Mistaken Identity (Part 8/12) Date: 10 Nov 2001 10:22:08 -0500 Mistaken Identity By Michele R Mason Notes & Disclaimer in Part 0 *** Part 8 "Now, what's this all about, Adam?" The General had ushered the three Tomorrow People into a small den and closed the door. Adam sat calmly across from the desk. "Why don't you tell us what you learned first, General. Then I think that my story will make more sense." The General nodded. "I suppose the sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can all get back to our vacations?" He grabbed the legal pad and began to look over the notes he had scribbled there. "I faxed the sketch to the London office, and the man was identified as Rojal Kinsmall. Rojal is a brilliant chemist and biologist, but sometime during the course of his employment, it was discovered that he had began working with an extremist terrorist group in the Middle East. He was subsequently discharged from WorldEx, and deported. "Rojal worked very closely with a man named Peter Roth. Roth is a genius when it comes to biochemisty, and he has been working for sometime on a biochemical product that could revolutionize medicine." "How's that?" Megabyte interrupted. "This particular product could replace anesthesia in surgery. It could also replace things like tear gas. A very small amount would place someone into a deep sleep for hours. Dispersed into an open atmosphere, it could relax an entire town." General Damon nodded, frowning. "Unfortunately, in the wrong hands it could also be used as a biochemical weapon. Concentrated and mixed with other compounds, it could produce a toxin much more corrosive and deadly than Mustard Gas. "When Rojal was dismissed, Roth was asked to put his work with Agent Sleep Aid, as its code named, aside for a few years. Roth refused, and in recent months has perfected the product." Adam was holding his medallion again, his eyes closed. He voice was soft and calm when he spoke. "So, Rojal is probably attempting to get the formula from Roth to supply terrorists." "And he is attempting to make it look as though WorldEx is careless. The car with unregistered plates is actually an unmarked car used by WorldEx to transport important dignitaries, politicians, ambassadors, and the like." General Damon leaned back in his chair, a wry smile on his lips. "Apparently, Rojal and his companions still have greater access to WorldEx than we ever thought-- and during the time that the vehicle was there, some high level security files were breached. "Luckily, that resulted in a full system dump, so they found nothing useful." "Okay, this is all fine and great," Megabyte interrupted. "But what does this have to do with some little kid getting grabbed in the airport?" Adam opened his eyes, turning his attention to Megabyte. "They think that Shelby is Roth's daughter." "Huh?" "Peter Roth is Australian, Megabyte." The General launched into explanations again, fishing through a pile of faxes. "He and his family have been vacationing in Australia for the past three weeks. They were due to arrive back in London this morning, but they missed their flight." The General slid a fax of a photograph across the desk, directing his question at Ami. "Look familiar?" Ami leaned forward to get a better view of the picture. The man and woman in it were unfamiliar to her, but the little girl in the center with blonde hair and large dark eyes bore a remarkable resemblance to Shelby Logan. "She looks like Shelby." "Daria Roth. Same age. Same build. Same physical description." "Are they related or something?" Megabyte studied the picture over Ami's shoulder. "They don't have to be, Megabyte," Ami informed him. "A lot of little kids look alike at that age." General Damon turned his attention to Adam. "Is that what you learned, Adam?" The young man nodded. "I overheard them talking. I caught the name Roth and the code name Agent Sleep Aid, and I had some suspicions, but I wasn't certain until now." "Yeah, but Adam, why did you leave the little kid there?" Megabyte asked. "She's well guarded, and out in the open. I wasn't certain that I could teleport in and just grab her out." Adam leaned forward and rested his arms on the desk. "I was also thinking, if I did get her out of there, what was there to stop Rojal and his friends from going after Daria Roth, or even grabbing Shelby again by accident? "Then I thought, what if we could flush out Rojal and rescue Shelby?" A spark of curiosity lit up the General's eyes. "Adam, I think I know what you're thinking. Of course, you're assuming they haven't made a ransom demand yet, and that Roth hasn't laughed in their faces." "They haven't," Adam replied tightly. "I heard them planning it. They're going to be contacting Roth in--" Adam checked his watch, "Two hours." General Damon smiled. "Your plan just might work. Assuming Roth agrees of course." "Why wouldnÆt he? He doesn't have anything to lose." "Whoa, time out," Megabyte looked from his friend to his father. "Somebody want to tell me what's going on here?" Ami nearly bounced in excitement. "It's simple Megabyte. We convince Peter Roth to play along like Shelby's his daughter. The kidnappers arrange a ransom meeting place, and then while we rescue Shelby, a WorldEx Security team can arrest Rojal and his accomplices." Megabyte grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, that's what I thought we were planning." "Yeah, right, Megabyte," Adam remarked with a chuckle. "I had better make some phone calls. I don't have much time to convince Roth," Megabyte's father was already dialing the telephone. "And I'll need one of you to get me to London." "And somebody should keep an eye on Shelby," Adam suggested. "I'd feel better knowing that she's all right." [I can do that,] Jade's over excited voice rang in their heads. [Please, Adam? Please?] Adam exchanged glances with Ami and Megabyte. His touch on Ami's mind was soft and tight, and she knew that she was the only one receiving him. [So much for not calling in the reinforcements, hey?] End of Part 8 ********************************************** Alternate Realities Fan Fiction Archive http://www.alternate-realities.net ********************************************** _________________________________________________________________ Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com/intl.asp - To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com" with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message. For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send "help" to the same address. Do not use quotes in your message. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "Michele Bumbarger" <mbumbarger@hotmail.com> Subject: (arfic-l) Mistaken Identity (Part 9/12) Date: 12 Nov 2001 09:31:01 -0500 Mistaken Identity By Michele R Mason Notes & Disclaimer in Part 0 *** Part 9 "General Damon, your phone call said this was urgent," Peter Roth was tall and slim, with thick blonde hair and black wire glasses. He cast a curious glance in the direction of Ami and Adam as he led his three impromptu guests into his personal study. "I'm afraid that I'm a bit confused. I'm only a lab rat?" It had been decided that Ami, as the only eyewitness to the kidnapping, and Adam, who actually knew the plans of the kidnappers, would accompany General Damon to meet with Dr. Roth. The plan didn't exactly sit well with Megabyte, who had been relegated to the task of hiding out with Jade at the warehouse. There they could monitor Shelby, and insure that she remained safe and well. "I believe that once you've heard my story, you'll understand, Dr. Roth." General Damon leaned back against the sofa. "We need your help in returning a kidnapped child to her parents." "I'm afraid I don't understand, General." "Early this morning, five-year-old Shelby Logan was kidnapped from the International Airport. She and her mother were supposed to rendezvous with her father here in London. They were on the AeroPacific's Flight 8719 from Sydney." A flash of understanding flickered in the eyes behind the glasses. "That's the flight we missed." "Precisely. The man responsible for Shelby's kidnapping is Rojal Kinsmall--" "Rojal! He's mixed up with this? What could he possibly want?" Dr. Roth frowned. "And how can I possibly help you? I don't even know the man anymore." Adam pushed a photograph across the desk. "This is a picture of Shelby Logan." Ami startled. She wondered where Adam had got hold of that picture. "Adam, where did--" the General's question was interrupted by a gasp from Dr. Roth. "She almost looks like Daria!" Adam nodded. "That's why Rojal kidnapped her. He thinks that she is Daria, and he wants to use her as leverage." "Leverage?" Knowledge dawned on Dr. Roth's face and he sank into his seat. He glanced in confusion at the General. "This is about Agent Sleep Aid, isn't it?" General Damon nodded. "In an hour, you're going to receive a phone call from Rojal's men, listing their demands. It's important that you play along with them. Pretend that Shelby is Daria, and set up a meeting. Hopefully, this way, we can rescue one little girl and collar Rojal once and for all." "Will you do it, Dr. Roth?" Adam leaned forward, dark eyes intent on the biochemist. "Of course I'll do it. What sort of question is that? If it were Daria, I'd know what I'd feelàwhat I'd hope that someone would do." Dr. Roth paused, his eyes darting between Adam and Ami. "One thing I don't understand though; what do you two university students have to do with all of this WorldEx security detail?" "Ami's our eyewitness," General Damon explained. "She was at the airport when Shelby was kidnapped." "And, you, Adam? What about you?" Dr. Roth nodded to his fellow Australian. Adam kept his eyes averted as his fingers slid Shelby's photograph back across the desk. His words were so soft, for a moment, Ami wasn't certain that she had heard him correctly. "Shelby Logan is my niece." Then, he got up and walked briskly from the room, leaving Ami and General Damon staring after him in shocked silence. End of Part 9 ********************************************** Alternate Realities Fan Fiction Archive http://www.alternate-realities.net ********************************************** _________________________________________________________________ Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com/intl.asp - To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com" with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message. For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send "help" to the same address. Do not use quotes in your message. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "Michele Bumbarger" <mbumbarger@hotmail.com> Subject: (arfic-l) Mistaken Identity (Part 10/12) Date: 12 Nov 2001 09:33:20 -0500 Mistaken Identity By Michele R Mason Notes & Disclaimer in Part 0 *** Part 10 Ami found Adam on the Roths front porch. He hadn't returned after fifteen minutes, and Ami had convinced the General that Adam needed some time alone. Forty-five minutes later, she decided that he'd had enough time alone. She found him on the top step, head down, hands folded in his lap. Dropping down onto the step beside him, Ami became immediately aware of how closed off he was. Nothing was getting through his shields; not a single emotion or thought darted across her awareness. "I really don't want to talk about it, Ami." He didn't look up at her. He kept staring down at his lap. Another mystery from Adam's past had partially unraveled itself, but he was refusing to share. It was nearly enough to make her want to scream. But it did explain his reaction to the mind merge and his overwhelming concern for the safety and well being of Shelby. Ami didn't need to be a telepath to tell that whatever demons Adam was wrestling with at that moment, they were hurting him. And they were hurting him badly. But he was hiding, drawing into himself, and putting mortar on whatever chinks had developed in his wall. Patience is a virtue, she reminded herself as she sat beside him. Adam Newman didn't owe her any answers or any explanations. He had taken her in once, shown her a glimpse of his private world, but that didn't mean that he was going to do it again-- it didn't mean that he had to do it ever again. Ami tried to ignore the blinding hurt that caused her. She tried to remind herself that they didn't have time to worry about these sort of things right now; the most important issue right now was rescuing Shelby. She wanted to tell him that he didn't have to talk about it; she wanted to tell him that she would understand if he wanted to be alone. She wanted to tell him that she wouldnÆt pry. Instead, she reached for his hand. [You're wondering if you did the right thing.] It was not a question, but a statement. Adam flinched, his shields wavering for just a heartbeat. Not nearly long enough for her to glimpse what truly ate away at him, but long enough to let her know that she mattered-- and that he was trying. "What do you mean?" "Leaving her there when you might have been able to get her out. That couldn't have been easy." Adam stared down at their hands. His voice was a whisper. "No, it wasn't." "We'll rescue her, Adam." He looked up at her then, his eyes misty. "And then what?" Before Ami could think of a suitable answer the door opened and General Damon nodded to them. "It's time. Rojal's call should be in about five minutes." Ami sighed inwardly, following Adam to his feet. It was time to be a Tomorrow Person again. * * * * * * * "Remind me again, what are we waiting for?" Megabyte peeked around the corner of the building, shifting from what foot to the other in anxiety. "I mean, we're here. Shelby's in that building, why don't we just go and get her?" "Because then Rojal and his colleagues would just find some other way to get their hands on the formula for Agent Sleep Aid," Adam reminded him. "Trust me, Megabyte, I don't like it anymore than you do, but as long as Shelby's alright-- " Adam trailed off, his voice dipping softly. [She's fine, Adam.] Jade assured him. [She's sleeping right now. She really is cute.] [Just remember to be careful, Jade. And--] "Hey, guys, Dr. Roth just arrived," Megabyte informed his friends, still peeking around the corner. Adam called to Jade. [I'm going to join you, Jade. I want to be there when they prepare to make the switch.] He gave Ami and Megabyte a smile, "Be careful, you two." "Yeah, same for you, buddy," Megabyte nodded at Adam. "You too," Ami remarked as he disappeared in a flash of light and a displacement of air. "He'll be okay," Megabyte told her. Ami wondered if that was for her benefit or for his. The next few moments became a chaotic jumble that it would take a few hours to put together afterwards. It all began when Jade appeared beside them, complaining that Adam had decided that they only needed one of them to keep an eye on Shelby. Then the argument between Dr. Roth and Kinsmall's men had begun; the WorldEx team descended upon the two men, surrounding them with police cars, and unmarked vehicles. Ami remembered hearing shouts and cries, but the words made no sense. [Adam, something's gone wrong,] Ami quickly 'pathed to the other. He never answered. At that particular moment, a loud cry of "It's trapped!" sounded across the lot and the warehouse went up in a blast of dust and thunder. End of Part 10 ********************************************** Alternate Realities Fan Fiction Archive http://www.alternate-realities.net ********************************************** _________________________________________________________________ Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com/intl.asp _________________________________________________________________ Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com/intl.asp - To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com" with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message. For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send "help" to the same address. Do not use quotes in your message. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "Michele Bumbarger" <mbumbarger@hotmail.com> Subject: (arfic-l) Mistaken Identity (Part 11/12) Date: 12 Nov 2001 09:35:51 -0500 Mistaken Identity By Michele R Mason Notes & Disclaimer in Part 0 *** Part 11 Ami felt sick. She felt as though her entire heart was being ripped from her chest as she watched the building implode. Her mind denied what she was seeing, her eyes struggled to put reason and right to it but failed miserably. "Adam," she whispered. "No," Jade cried besides her, taking a few steps toward the building. The only sound louder was Karyn Logan's anguished scream tearing through the night air. Then came the familiar prickle along the base of her neck, the air filling with energy. One moment, Adam was inside the warehouse, the next he was standing in front of his friends with a very wide-eyed little girl in his arms. "Adam!" The three Tomorrow People descended on their friend like a swarm. Their words tumbled out at once, each expressing their overwhelming happiness at seeing their friend alive and in one piece. Ami reached him first, throwing her arms around his neck and burying her face in his shoulder. She didn't care what Megabyte and Jade thought-- all she cared about was that Adam was alive. "I thought I'd lost you." "God, Adam, you had us going," Megabyte gave him a swift punch in the arm, and gave Ami a slight shove. "Come on, let the kid breathe already." "Rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated," Adam laughed, his dark eyes focused on Ami. "You can't get rid of me that easily." "Shelby--" Karyn Logan pushed her way into the throng of Tomorrow People, clearly intent on reaching her daughter. There was no way that the Logans could have missed Adam appearing out of thin air, but Ami figured that as long as their daughter was alive they probably didn't care. Then, Mrs. Logan paused in mid-stride, her eyes on Adam and Shelby. She stared at Adam for a long moment, confusion clouding her eyes. "How did, why are--" Shelby lifted her head from Adam's shoulder, a smile breaking out across her cherubic face. "Mummy! Uncle Adam rescued me." Ami felt Megabyte and Jade's shock at the little girl's words. In fact, it probably mirrored the shock she had experienced when Adam made the admission back at the Roth house. But they weren't left with any time to ask questions; Karyn Logan suddenly found her pace again, and in an instant had wrapped Adam and Shelby in a tight embrace. A few moments later, they were joined by Mark Logan and the group moved off to a distance. Megabyte moved to follow, but Ami placed a hand on his arm. "Megabyte, don't. If Adam wants to explain to us. He will. But right now, I think that they need time together." Only Dr. Roth stood off to the side, shaking his head. "Can anyone explain to me what's going on? How did he--?" General Damon came to the rescue, clapping Dr. Roth on the shoulder. "Amazing trick of the light wasn't it? It was a good thing that I saw him coming from the shadows, or I might have thought that he just popped out of thin air. "That's not what you thought was it, Dr. Roth?" "Adam's an uncle," Jade remarked at last as General Damon's voice disappeared in the distance. "Yeah, who'd have thought," Megabyte remarked. "I guess life is just full of surprises," Ami linked an arm through Megabyte's and the other through Jade's. "Now, let's go help General Damon talk Dr. Roth out of thinking that Adam appeared out of thin air." "Hey," Megabyte laughed. "That's impossible, right?" "Yeah, the next thing you know, he'll be believing in space ships," Jade added, with a giggle. Ami glanced back toward Adam and the Logans as the three walked away, arm in arm. His dark eyes met hers and he gave her his familiar half-smile. [Later,] He promised her. That was good enough for now. End of Part 11 ********************************************** Alternate Realities Fan Fiction Archive http://www.alternate-realities.net ********************************************** _________________________________________________________________ Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com/intl.asp - To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com" with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message. For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send "help" to the same address. Do not use quotes in your message. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "Michele Bumbarger" <mbumbarger@hotmail.com> Subject: (arfic-l) Mistaken Identity (Part 12/12) Date: 12 Nov 2001 09:39:18 -0500 Mistaken Identity By Michele R Mason Notes & Disclaimer in Part 0 **** Part 12 Ami hesitated at the door to Adam's flat, her hand raised in mid-knock. He had asked her to meet him here, but he had seemed a bit distracted and his invitation had seemed forced. These past few days, Adam had been behaving strangely, rebuilding the walls around himself that Shelby's kidnapping had knocked down. He had refused to provide any of them with any details on Shelby, or his sister Karyn, other than acknowledging that they were his relatives, and that he had his reasons for keeping the two separate. "Whatever that means," Megabyte had growled after Adam teleported away from the Ship. It had taken Ami and Jade a good twenty minutes to convince Megabyte that Adam wasn't intentionally being rude or mean-spirited; fortunately, it had taken only a few minutes to remind the American that Adam carried a burden of hurt and pain with him that he might never share-- with any of them. Then, Adam had invited her here. Ami's mind was very capable of dreaming up all sorts of bad reasons why, and she didn't like the road her imagination was going down. But, she reminded herself, you knew better than to expect a Cinderella story. At least she hoped that she had. Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door. It opened almost immediately, Adam flashing her a hesitant smile on the other side of the threshold. "Ami, you came." Did he think that she wouldn't? Ami nodded, hooking her fingers through the back pockets of her jeans. She rocked on her toes. "You said that you wanted to see me?" "Yeah," Adam stepped aside, motioning her inside. "Come on in." She did as bade, trying to ignore the dull thumping of her heart in her chest. "I wanted to talk to you about something," Adam spoke slowly, closing the door behind her. He seemed to be concentrating, choosing each word with care and after consideration. "Sure, what's going on?" Ami answered nonchalantly, sitting on the edge of the sofa. To be honest, his manner and behavior had her anxious-- no, it had her worried. Again, she reminded herself that she and Adam were friends, friends before anything else, and no matter what he said-- well, she wasn't going to do anything stupid. Adam perched on the sofa beside her, watching her closely. As usual, such intense scrutiny by him made her shift, feeling slightly flustered. She stared down at her hands, and examined the inseam of her blue jeans. "First of all, I wanted to thank you." Adam said at last. Ami raised her head. "Thank me?" Adam nodded, his eyes still intently on her. "For understanding. About Karyn and Shelby, and for not asking questions. That means a lot to me." "You're welcome." That seemed to be the only appropriate response. "I just thought that if you wanted to tell us, you would." "I had just hoped that I could keep this part of my life away from Karyn. I didn't think she would understand. She surprised me." "Then she knows about the Tomorrow People?" Again, he nodded. His hand reached out, lifting one of her braids from her shoulders and curling it around his finger. "She understands. She accepts it." "That's a good thing, right?" Ami tried to ignore the familiarity suggested by Adam's action. Tried to ignore it because it reminded her of a few moments that she wasn't quite sure she would want to remember in a few hours. She didn't think that Adam had brought her simply to tell her about Karyn. "Yeah, I guess so," Adam sighed, a shadow falling across his face. He lapsed into silence for a moment, his gaze so penetrating that Ami felt as though he was seeing right through her. Ami touched his hand lightly. "Adam, was there something else?" He glanced at her startled, clearly pulled from wherever his thoughts had gone. And then he took her hand in his. "We never did talk about this, did we?" Her heart skipped a beat and her throat went dry. Not trusting herself to speak, Ami simply shook her head. "All right," Adam released a low, slow breath. Holding tight to her hand, he closed his eyes and his words came in a rush. "You're one of my best friends, Ami, and I don't want to do anything to ruin or destroy that. But we can't ignore what happened, and I don't really want to. I think that sometimes when two people are as close as we are, things happen. Feelings change, people change. That's not a bad thing; it complicates things sometimes, but-- "I want to try this, if you want to. But if you have any second thoughts--" [Will you two just admit it and get over it already? You're making some of us sick,] Megabyte's voice rang in their heads. [If I wanted sappy, I'd rent Beaches.] [You're eavesdropping, Megabyte,] Ami accused, feeling Adam's sudden and overwhelming embarrassment through the contact between their hands. Of course, she felt hers much more keenly, and only chiding Megabyte kept her from doing or saying something otherwise stupid. [I am not. You're broadcasting. Satellite television doesn't come in nearly as clearly as you guys do.] [Thank you, Marmaduke,] Adam remarked dryly. [I think its sweet,] Jade chimed. Adam groaned, patches of pink coloring his cheeks, and he buried his face in his hands. Ami pried his hands away from his face. "I'm not having any second thoughts." "I am," Adam lifted his head slowly, a wry smile on his face. "About hurting Megabyte." Ami laughed and threw herself at him in a hug that knocked them both from the sofa. Megabyte snorted. [That's more like it.] Ami wrinkled her nose and rolled her eyes at the intrusion. "I'm afraid you'll just have to take a number." Then he kissed her and for the moment their prying redhead friend was forgotten. ** Fin *** That's all, folks. Done. Finished. Complete. It's been gathering dust for over three years, and now it's finally seen the light of day. Hope everyone enjoyed. ********************************************** Alternate Realities Fan Fiction Archive http://www.alternate-realities.net ********************************************** _________________________________________________________________ Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com/intl.asp - To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com" with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message. For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send "help" to the same address. Do not use quotes in your message. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Wendy Perkins <ladyslvr@xmission.com> Subject: (arfic-l) Grimm's Law - Part 08/10 Date: 12 Nov 2001 19:48:41 -0600 --=====================_9951146==_ Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"; format=flowed --=====================_9951146==_ Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" Grimm's Law A Tomorrow's Future Story by Wendy Perkins ladyslvr@xmission.com Part 08 of 10 Chapter 8 The tentative knock at his office door pulled Grimm from the nearly hypnotic task of grading homework assignments. He looked up at the two people who stood in the doorway, both of whom were the right age to be his students but neither were faces he'd seen staring at him in a lecture hall. The younger, a black teenager with a full face and intelligent eyes, looked far more nervous than a visit to a professor should warrant, unless she was one of those students who only showed up to the first and last day of class. Behind her stood a white man, taller than the woman by a few inches, older by a few years and obviously the moral support of the pair. "Can I help you?" he asked, directing the question at the woman. He pasted an expression of polite interest on his face in case he was supposed to know her. There were so many faces and though he tried, he never could learn them all. "Maybe," she replied, glancing down at her sneakers and then back up to him. "We wanted to talk you about Sara." The name came out as a question. She licked her lips and opened her mouth as if to say something more, then closed it. "You are friends?" His eyebrows drew together as he tried to match their faces with any he might have known. The woman did look familiar, but he couldn't figure out why. The more he looked at her, the more he was certain she wasn't one of his students but that he did know her from somewhere. "We've met," she said. "I'm Adam," the young man introduced. "And this is Lisa." Grimm was just rising out of his chair when the young man spoke up; he sat down quickly and appraised the two again. "Oh! . . . I -- she's mentioned you," he stammered after a second. "Please, come in." He indicated the folding chair in front of his desk, eyes darting around the small office as he looked for another available seat. There was none. He gave a shrug, raising his hands in apology, and rose to his feet, successfully this time. If they were going to stand, then so was he. "She's mentioned us?" Lisa repeated, perplexed. "Yesterday, in fact. She seemed worried about you. Are you okay? Of course you're okay. You're here--" He realized he was babbling even as the words spilled from his lips. In one of her stranger moments, Sara had called out two names. The fact that people bearing those names showed up at his door a day later shouldn't mean anything. It was a coincidence, nothing more. But even as he had the thought, he dismissed it as another rationalization that wasn't going to work. He knew his daughter had been calling for the people who stood before him now. He also knew that if he didn't rein in his tongue, they'd leave before he found out why they were here. "Professor," Adam interrupted. "Sara's alive?" "Of course she's alive," he answered. The looks Lisa and Adam traded made it clear that they'd expected a different answer. "But . . we thought . . . I mean . . . ." Lisa threw her hands up. "I give up," she said. "This doesn't make any sense." "Why would you think she's not alive?" he pressed. Even asking the question, he couldn't bring himself to say 'dead'. Dead was too final; saying it might jinx it into happening. Sara wasn't dead because he couldn't handle it if she left too. They didn't have an answer. He could see it in their furrowed brows and down turned lips; in the way the woman looked like she wanted to walk right out the door and never return, in the way the man shoved his hands in his jean pockets because he'd become conscious of them hanging helpless at his sides. Then it occurred to him who they were talking about. Not Sara after all. But they wouldn't have any reason to know that. "Clara," he whispered. They had known something he didn't, and now he was sorry he'd wanted to find out. "What?" "Sara . . . and Clara. They're twins." "You gave them rhyming names?" Lisa asked in disbelief. "Isn't that a little . . . cliche?" "Their names came from something I was studying for my dissertation," he answered without apology. Centum/Satem. The name for a major division in the world's languages. Sharing those names with his newborn daughters seemed like a way to intertwine his work and home lives a little more; a professional in-joke as it were; and a kind of honorarium. "That explains it," Adam interrupted, freeing a hand from his pocket to run it through his hair. "It does?" Lisa asked at the same time as Grimm said, "Explains what?" They weren't talking about the names. "You were right," Adam told Lisa. "She couldn't have done it. And *she* didn't." He saw Lisa's eyebrow quirk up and some of the confusion disappear from her eyes. Adam's words either made sense to her or she was listening to an entirely different conversation. Possibly both. Grimm rubbed a knuckle against the bridge of his nose. "Now could you please explain your explanation?" "It's kinda complicated," Lisa said. "That much is obvious. Why don't we start with the reason you're here? You said --" And for the second time since their arrival, his mind blanked and his words cut off as his eyes came to rest on the manila folder that peeked at him from beneath a stack of research papers. With one hand, he slid the folder from beneath the stack and opened its worn cover. At the top sat a photo copy from the front page of the Virginia Post. Lisa's face stared out at him from a nest of slightly smeared copy. He silently handed the page to her. She accepted it; her mouth forming an "oh" as she registered what she held. Her teleporting act hadn't gone unnoticed, had in fact been caught on video by some proud father with a child in the talent show and a camcorder. That tape had earned Lisa coverage on the local news, and then an above-the-fold article in the local paper. "Clara disappeared into thin air too," he informed them, all the hurt and worry he'd felt over the past few months welling to the surface. "I didn't see it, but Sara did. She told me about it. I . . . didn't believe her then. Do you know where she is?" Adam seemed to be studying the books lining the wall nearest him as he answered, "We do." "We do?" Lisa echoed. "At least," the young man clarified, "we know what happened to her?" "We do?" Lisa repeated. She looked hard at Adam, her gaze unwavering as she directed her next words back to Grimm. "He might. In fact, he probably does. But I have no idea what he's talking about, just for the record." He was about to respond, although he wasn't sure what would come out of his mouth, when a movement in the hallway caught his attention. Holding up his hand in a "wait a minute" gesture, he stepped around his desk and across the office that really wasn't big enough for all the people now in it. Sure enough, hovering in the doorway across the hall and a few feet down was their topic of conversation. In silence the two youths joined him and watched as Sara took tentative steps forward and back, as if being compelled to the office but drawn away, like an iron filing between two magnets. "Is that her?" Lisa whispered near his ear. He nodded sadly, trying not to see his daughter as Lisa and Adam must be seeing her. It was strange, but it made sense too, that in the months of his studies, of the apologies, he'd grown used to the silent teenager who would dance her way in and out of his thoughts. He could talk to her, and even though he wanted nothing more than to hear a real answer, there was an incredible freedom in knowing he didn't have to be on guard against injuring feelings or revealing more of the self than polite. Grimm wondered at what point he'd become . . . comfortable with how things now stood even as he railed against them with his every action. "I don't know how she does that," Grimm said, speaking more to himself than to Lisa and Adam. "She's barely capable of functioning on a day to day basis. Yet, somehow, she manages to get out of the house, without the housekeeper noticing, walk all the way across campus, and then up five flights of stairs to find me." "This happens a lot?" Adam asked. There was something odd in his voice that Grimm didn't know how to place. "Fourth time. No one ever sees her either. I have to wonder that she doesn't freeze to death." Sara didn't look cold; she didn't look like someone who'd walked half a mile in the winter without benefit of jacket, gloves or hat. All she was wearing was her usual sweatsuit, this one a faded yellow with the school's name appliqued down the right leg in green. On her feet was a pair of socks so worn that her big toes poked out. She minced closer to the crowd in the doorway, her gaze not seeming to register them. She stopped in front of her father, politely waiting for him to clear the doorway so she could enter the office. Or, so it would appear to anyone not aware of her current state. "Hi, Sara," Adam said. The gentleness in his tone belied the tension in the room. Not surprisingly, she didn't answer. She did turn towards her father as if waiting for him to explain. "So there's two of them?" Lisa asked. "I just want to get this straight." "There's two of them," Adam confirmed. "Sara is right here. Clara, your sister," he said, his voice low, directed at the silent twin. "Teleported. She is -- or was -- like Lisa and I: a Tomorrow Person." Grimm released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding; haven't been holding. A metaphorical breath released as the question 'why' finally got an answer. Two words. Two simple, common words that together meant so much more than a sum of their parts. They were Tomorrow People. And for all the information those two words didn't convey, they made perfect sense. It didn't matter that Grimm wasn't supposed to believe in teleporting, hadn't believed in it up until that very second. The proof had been provided months before with Clara's disappearance. Seeing the face from the newspaper article on a real person who stood right next to him, hearing the young man's somber words, unseeing and careless of anyone's acceptance -- those were all he needed to get beyond his intrinsic disbelief, to accept the proof for what it was. Questions pounded his brain, but they were questions to seek more information, not to pass judgement. "Like you," Adam finished. Sara pivoted, now facing Lisa. The vacant eyes stared at the elder girl, her face expressionless. Was she the one seeking proof? Grimm cleared his throat. "So, where is Clara now? Shouldn't she have come back? Or is she not allowed . . . to come back?" He tried to swallow back the rising bile. After all those months of wondering and blaming, he finally got an answer. Its messengers seemed like friendly, mature young adults. What weren't they telling him? "That's a long story," Adam said. "I'm afraid the ending isn't a happy one." Grimm suspected he already knew how this story ended, but he had to ask anyway. "Will you tell me . . . ?" He had to ask, but he still couldn't say it. Lisa pursed her lips. "But, it's not over. Right, Adam? Isn't there still something . . . ?" She paused, leaned out into the hallway and looked both directions. Grimm knew what she was seeing: the rows of closed doors and dark rooms. The only sounds he'd heard in the building for hours were Lisa and Adam's arrival, then Sara's arrival. Seemingly satisfied, she continued, "The Ship isn't done yet." "The ship?" Grimm asked. "What ship?" "You'll see," Adam responded. He sounded proud, like it was something he'd built himself. "It's where we're going now. Sara," he said, looking at her again. "Are you ready?" Sara minced back and forth a few steps, her gaze not leaving Lisa. "I know," Lisa responded at length, "There won't be any touching." She extended one of her own hands out towards the teen, palm out. "You don't have to touch, just do what I'm doing." "It's okay," Adam added in reassurance, extending his own palm in Sara's direction. Behind him, Grimm could feel the movement as Lisa and Adam shifted in their stances. A glance over his shoulder confirmed that the two had copied their strange action with their other hands, palms almost touching. He looked back to see Sara's stiffened arms raising, for all the world like a puppet on strings, until they matched the gestures. "Put your hand on my shoulder, Professor," Adam said, without turning his attention from Sara. "And shut your eyes." Grimm complied, sensing that now wasn't the time to have his curiosity satisfied. Sensing further that it was about to be satisfied beyond his wildest dreams. Nothing happened for long seconds except the buildup of some kind of charge in the air; a charge that raised all the hairs on his arms and made the back of his neck tingle. He fought the urge to open his eyes; the direction wouldn't have been given if it weren't important. He barely heard Sara whisper, "I can hear the ocean," then the back of his eyelids turned pink, the hairs on his arms and head took a sudden jump, and he felt the charge rip through his body, from the inside out. **** End Chapter 8 --=====================_9951146==_ Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"; format=flowed --=====================_9951146==_-- - To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com" with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message. For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send "help" to the same address. Do not use quotes in your message. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Wendy Perkins <ladyslvr@xmission.com> Subject: (arfic-l) Grimm's Law - Part 09/10 Date: 12 Nov 2001 19:49:08 -0600 --=====================_9977453==_ Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"; format=flowed --=====================_9977453==_ Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" Grimm's Law A Tomorrow's Future Story by Wendy Perkins ladyslvr@xmission.com Part 09 of 10 Chapter 9 Here it is," someone said. And this is it, Lisa thought as the four materialized into the center room of the ship. Unlike her other two appearances at the ship in recent days, Lisa already knew that this one wasn't just a visit. Oh, she'd be leaving of course. Only Adam could be happy living on the island, and she still had college and her mother to worry about. But she had been called on to keep her promise. When she returned to the ship, and she would return, it would be without the fear that had marred her previous visits. It wouldn't matter how long she'd been away or what had happened in the interim; the ship would welcome her. When she returned, she'd be returning home. She didn't see herself ever re-joining the ranks full time, but the Tomorrow People could call on her if they needed her. No sooner had the flash of light faded, than she and Adam moved towards the column, taking up positions next to it like guards. "That was . . . interesting." Grimm cleared his throat and looked around. Lisa could see him taking in details of the ship that individually didn't seem unusual, but together added up to an obviously alien design. "Here is the ship. Do I want to know where 'here' is?" he asked, sounding calm, but only by a sheer effort of will. "Don't worry," Adam reassured. "We're still on Earth, and we're not any more aliens than you are." The last was a preemptive answer of the question that usually came after "where are we". Grimm drew a deep breath. Rubbing his hands against his black slacks, he asked, "Does that mean that I'm an alien?" "I hope not," Lisa interjected with a laugh. She had wondered when someone would jump to the obvious wrong conclusion to Adam's line. "My mom had enough trouble dealing with the whole teleporting thing. There had better not be any other secrets I have to break to her." That earned her a nervous smile, but the tension in the small room dissipated. Once Professor Grimm's worries were put to rest, he found a new focus for his energies: on the writing that covered the walls of the ship. The alien symbols. The linguist in him surfaced. Lisa could see the questions forming, the curiosity at play as he wandered over to one of the walls and lovingly traced the symbols etched there. She suspected he'd probably be spending a lot of time at the ship until he solved the mystery of the words written there. Even the Tomorrow People didn't know their meaning. Adam grabbed Lisa's arm and pulled her into one of the side passages. The air was heavier here and smelled of dead fish. Lisa crinkled her nose against it. "Yeah?" she asked, not knowing what to expect. "Did you get a good look at Sara?" He glanced out into the main room. He didn't comment on what, if anything, he saw going on in there. Lisa hesitated, trying to find the right words. "She's not normal, right? There's something wrong with her." She frowned; those were not the right words. She sounded like she was commenting on a problem that one could look up in the Merck Manual. "She's a Tomorrow Person," he stated. "I figured out that much. She was able to teleport here, which she wouldn't have been able to do otherwise. Unless that's changed? No? Then, of course she's a Tomorrow Person. But there's something else. There's something wrong with her eyes, like she's seeing but not seeing. And there's that whole 'no touching' thing. If I didn't know better, I'd say she was Autistic." Adam led her a little deeper into the passage, then lowered his voice, "What makes you think she's not?" "Because she's a Tomorrow Person," Lisa said, as if the answer were obvious. "Plus, I get the feeling that whatever is wrong happened recently. Teenagers don't just boom, wake up one day and find out they're autistic." "Do you get the sense that she's not really here?" "Yeah," she said. "That's it exactly. She's here, but not here. You know what's going on, don't you? Again?" Because, why wouldn't he? And why wouldn't Adam or the Ship make up its mind if it wanted her to be involved in things or not? When this was over, she was going to have to have words with both of them about dragging her into adventures and then deliberately withholding all the vital information. Adam nodded. "I reckon that when her sister died, it was really sudden. They were both telepathic, and Sara got the backlash from it. She turned her powers inward." Lisa started. "On purpose?" "No. Probably a defensive mechanism. Right now she's trapped in her own head. We had to bring her here so the ship could help her turn them back the right way." He said that like he was stating the obvious. In a way, she figured, he was. But, she was going to have to go home and spend a few hours thinking about everything before she figured out how any of this was obvious. Until then, she found herself saying, "Which you knew. And I guess I knew that too, because I knew we had to come here. That makes sense. I guess. So there's a new Tomorrow Person, now." Adam didn't say anything right away. She gave him a few seconds, then began to walk past him back to the main room. "That's cool," she said, because it seemed like she needed to say something else. "The world needs more." They hadn't gone very far into the tunnels, just far enough that they couldn't be easily overheard. With a few steps she was almost back in the main room. The air became less oppressive as she walked, the humidity level lessening. The dead fish smell also eased. Lisa drew a deep breath of the fresher air and paused for a moment to enjoy the warmth. This was turning out to be a pretty good day, after all. From behind her, she heard Adam respond, "Yes, it does." He didn't sound happy. "What?" she asked, turning around to look at him. "What do you mean?" He just shook his head. "It wasn't supposed to end this way." Huh? That sounded familiar, but what did he mean by it? She glanced at him again, about to ask, but he just kept walking, right on past her. His face was set in an expression she knew well. If he had anything else to say, she was going to have to wait to hear it. No sooner had she stepped back into the main chamber when a small sound directed her attention to Sara, who stood next to the wall that kissed the sea. Sara stepped close to the panel, as if intending to walk through it, then stopped short. "The ocean," she murmured. She too sounded happy, as if finding something she'd been searching for her entire life. And perhaps, Lisa speculated, she had. Sara's remark preceding the teleport hadn't gone unnoticed, even if there hadn't been time to comment on it. It had sounded almost rehearsed, something said so many times that its meaning had been sapped away. But it was becoming apparent that the Sara that had Lisa had met in her dreams wasn't the Sara that Lisa and Adam had met. Maybe once the two had been the same, but Clara's teleport had done more than tear apart a set of twins. Lisa nodded to herself, a small glimmer of understanding taking root. "Is that what she's been talking about?" her father asked, a different kind of clarity stealing over his features. Then almost too low to hear, "All this time." The two Tomorrow People stood together, flanking the central column, while Professor Grimm hovered somewhere behind his daughter, close enough to assert his protectiveness and far enough not to frighten her. Sara regarded her reflection in the transparent panel. It was faint, being not in a mirror but on a glass panel backed only by deep blue sea water. It wavered with the small movements of the sea pushing against the island, and the remnants of the waves breaking against the shore. Looking closely, Lisa could make out the barely visible image. Sara regarded her reflection, but didn't make any other movement. The three watched her, watching herself, waiting for her to complete whatever ritual needed completing before they could take her home. Nothing happened for long enough that Lisa's mind started to wander. She almost didn't notice when the reflection brought both its hands up and pressed them against the glass. She heard a sharp intake of breath from someone, then realized that Sara still hadn't moved. Slowly Sara brought her own hands up and mirrored Clara's gesture. In the glass, Lisa could see a small smile start on the girl's lips. The smile seemed hesitant at first, then grew, brightening her face; creating an illusion of health and happiness on the wane countenance. The pose was held. A sense of anticipation settled about the ship; Lisa took several deep breaths, quietly forcing the air in and out of her lungs so as not to disturb anything. She could hear Adam next to her doing the same thing. Sara was here to get her powers turned around, to correct the backlash that started when her twin sister killed. Lisa knew that because Adam had told her. How Adam knew it, she still couldn't figure out. That was fine, however, because she was coming to accept that Adam knew a lot of things that he wasn't letting on. She also didn't know what it would mean for Sara's powers to be fixed. The concept was easy enough; the actuality was outside her imagination. Despite the knowledge that something major was going to happen, Lisa wasn't prepared when Sara turned away from the reflection, the smile still on her face, and with a tilt to her head said, "Daddy?" **** End Chapter 9 --=====================_9977453==_ Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"; format=flowed --=====================_9977453==_-- - To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com" with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message. For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send "help" to the same address. Do not use quotes in your message. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Wendy Perkins <ladyslvr@xmission.com> Subject: (arfic-l) Grimm's Law - Part 10/10 Date: 12 Nov 2001 19:49:20 -0600 --=====================_9990194==_ Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"; format=flowed --=====================_9990194==_ Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii" Grimm's Law A Tomorrow's Future Story by Wendy Perkins ladyslvr@xmission.com Part 10 of 10 Epilogue Light shone through the window, not but not sunlight. The memory of sunlight only. No dust particles were visible, no warmth detectable. Simply light that luminated what needed to be seen and left the rest untouched. Sara leaned back against the window sill, feeling the press of wood in the small of her back. It was the first thing she'd felt without pain in a very long time. "This is right," she said, taking in the room. It had changed a lot since she'd last seen it, except that it didn't look any different. The walls were painted a soft yellow, with a bright floral runner framing the ceiling. It was her bedroom, but not really. She was back in the dream room her mind had created that had been as much her jail as her haven. Now it was just a haven, and she'd never again have to be alone. The teen sitting on the nearest bed in a nest of pillows and blankets nodded back. Their faces had once been as identical as two humans' could be. Today enough differences showed that strangers might recognize the two girls as mere sisters, no more. Clara looked wane, heavy circles beneath her eyes marking how much recovery she still needed. Her hair hung long and tangled, held back from her face with metal barrettes placed high on her head. "What do we say?" Clara asked. "How do we explain what happened?" Sara's brow furrowed, not in thought but as though she were listening to something faint and far away. "I don't think we have to explain. I mean, how could we?" "We were as much victims as them," Clara agreed. "No. I mean, you were. You were a victim. But I made choices. Maybe I didn't understand what I was doing, but I knew I was doing it." "So you were a victim." "No." Sara shook her head, her hands clutching behind her at the window sill for support. "That's not the right way to think. I'm okay with knowing I screwed up. I'm a teenager. That's kinda what I'm supposed to do. But not . . . I don't wanna be a victim." Could she be, she wondered? Was it possible to be a victim of your own actions? She gnawed on her lip and tried to wrap her mind around the question. Clara interrupted her thoughts with her own question. "Do you remember when we were little," she asked, "and mom would dress us in identical outfits and send us off to kindergarten. The teacher put a yellow ribbon in your hair so she could tell us apart? And she asked Mom all the time not to dress us alike, but Mom always said it was a waste of identical twins if you couldn't dress them the same?" Sara nodded. "I hated that ribbon. I think I still hate the color yellow. Total trauma." "I always wondered if she dressed us the same so she wouldn't have to worry about who was who. She never called us by our real names anyway." Clara looked up at the ceiling, silently composing thoughts that had only the slightest reflection on her face. "But, you do remember the ribbon, right? You remember kindergarten and Mrs . . . Miss . . . oh, what was her name?" "Howes? House?" Sara guessed. "Houston," both the girls said at the same time, then burst into giggles. "I don't know how I could forget her name," Sara said, smiling at the nostalgia. The smile faded as she recalled why that name was so meaningful. "She was our teacher the year Challenger blew up. Remember the jokes?" She hesitated, then said, "I suppose they weren't very funny. We were just too young to understand." Growing serious, Clara said, "At least you remember the same stuff I do. I wasn't sure you would." "Why not? "When I was unconscious . . . I think his name was Casey . . . after he made me, you know, after he got inside my head and the nightmare . . . ." Her voice dropped to a whisper; her gaze didn't leave the ceiling. "I dreamed I was killing someone. Only, it wasn't me. I was doing it, but I was also watching it be done." She started to shake. "That's awful," Sara responded, not even trying to keep the shock out of her voice. "Did you do it? Did it really happen?" "It happened." Clara's words dropped like boulders in a pond. "Afterwards, there was so much going on, all at once. I dreamed so many dreams. One was about being born and growing up. It was a whole different life, though. The ribbon was purple. There were other dreams. I'm not even sure which ones were mine and which ones weren't. Then I started to wake up, and now I'm not sure which life is which. I remember parts of them both, as if they both happened to me at the same time." She tore her gaze away from the ceiling and looked at her sister with obvious effort. "I think I royally screwed up. I'm just not sure what I coulda done about it." Clara pulled the quilt tighter around her frail body. "What about them?" she asked, nodding towards the doorway, "Do you think maybe they screwed up?" "I don't think . . . ." Sara paused again, the listening expression returning. "I don't think that's for me to say," she concluded. "I hear it too." "The ship?" "The ship. It's so deep in my head that I didn't know it wasn't me at first." "It is you," Sara reminded her. "Don't ever forget that. It's you and it's me. Without it there wouldn't be a you-and-me. We made that choice too." Clara pondered this. "You think it was the right one?" The light in the room grew brighter, the warmth deeper, surrounding the two girls. Both flinched reflexively before their minds recognized that there was no danger; the ship merely had its own opinion to express. "Almost," Sara responded. "There's still something I need to do." "I know." Sara's eyebrows went up in surprise. "How? You were unconscious." "I've known since the beginning. I know I was out for a long time to you, but to me it wasn't very long at all. The dreams. I remember everything that happened to you, and everything that happened to me, and a few things that happened to other people, and all those years took only a few seconds." She smiled ruefully, one finger tracing the bruising under her right eye. "I hope the Ship will still let me come visit. There are some people I'd like to talk to." "Even though . . .?" Even though you're not a Tomorrow Person anymore, Sara thought, but couldn't say. Clara nodded once, understanding. "Especially because." "Do you think things will be different?" "Of course. The whole time I was gone, all Dad could think about was having us both healthy and home with him. He was willing to do anything for you." "What about you?" Sara asked. She pushed herself away from the window sill and tried to find something to do. There wasn't much. This room was bare of the usual diversions; what existed, existed because it was important to her or served an immediate function: the beds, the quilt still clutched in her sister's hands. On top of the dresser, a tall wooden chest on which the girls had once spent a glorious afternoon slopping a bucket of paint, sat a single framed picture. She didn't even know who was in it, her or her sister. "Mostly he'd given up on me," Clara answered. "He didn't want to admit it, but he knew I wouldn't be coming back. He figured I was dead." Sara picked up the frame. It was heavy in her hands. Light from somewhere glared off the glass, hiding the picture inside. "He was wrong," Sara protested. She tilted the frame back and forth, but couldn't get a clear view. "Not by much. I wasn't supposed to come back. You know that, right?" Clara's words were slow and serious. "If it hadn't been for you, I would have died. You kept me alive, and then you made it possible for me to come back. What you gave up made it possible. Things are going to be different; we'll never be the kind of people we should have been. But we'll have--" "--We'll still have here, even if we don't have the rest of it." Sara'd never said that sentence before, but it came out of her mouth like it had been programmed. She set the picture frame back down and turned to face her sister. "You are coming home, right?" Clara hesitated, just for a second, before answering. "Maybe. I don't know what happens next." She drew a deep breath, then whistled it out between her front teeth. "I'm not going to walk through our front door tomorrow, if that's what you mean. At least, I don't think so. It might happen. It might never happen. We have here. That's all I know for sure." "I want more than that," Sara said. "I know. So do I." Clara shrugged. "The Ship can only do so much. We can only bend the rules so much. We're just not that special." "Is that what you learned in your dreams?" A small laugh escaped Clara's lips. "Sometimes. There's so much more too it than that." "Will you . . . tell me about it? Someday?" "Yeah. But first. . . " Clara let her words drop off and turned to look at the bedroom door. In the real world its equivalent was a plain pressed wood door with a simple metal doorknob. Here, if anyone could touch it, he might find the same thing. Sara knew better. To ease her loneliness she had brought people into her room, into her head. They never stayed for long. Everyone who had tried to open that door had instead vanished through it, going someplace . . . else. She didn't know where. They vanished from both the real world and the one in her head at the same time. Somehow she had caused them to go. When she was finally able to talk to the Ship, it brought Clara back through the door, and showed Sara how to bring back the others. "It's time," she said. Across the room the door swung open. Through it stepped the first of those people Sara had come here to see: A young man in his late teens with almost black hair, and a broad, high-cheek boned face. She had seen him once before, but hadn't been able to pay attention. Now she looked at him and saw a person who wasn't quite a stranger, and wasn't quite familiar. It was like running into a friend she hadn't seen in a very long time and to whom she couldn't place a name. What she could see is that unlike the last time, he didn't seem scared. He didn't know why he was here; she could sense that very clearly, but he knew that this time he would find out. He took one step into the room. She matched his step, then stopped. She didn't want to get too close, just in case. "When you wake up," she said, not introducing herself because she figured no introduction was needed, "I don't know how much you'll remember. I'm sorry for what happened to you. For what I did to you." Alejo stepped further into the room, which brought him to the edge of the bed on which Clara rested. She pulled up her knees, giving him a silent invitation to sit down. Wordlessly, without reservation, he accepted it, perching on the corner of the bed, his eyes still on Sara. She listened carefully, and tried to put into words the thoughts it placed in her head. "You'll be okay in the morning. That's what the Ship says." "The Ship," he echoed, a fleeting look of confusion crossing his face. "The Ship es, iss, here?" He touched the side of his head above his ear. "Yes. The voice in your head is the Ship talking. Sometimes you'll be able to understand everything it says, and sometimes you won't understand anything. At least, not consciously. Inside," she tapped her chest above her heart, "you'll always know." His eyes narrowed, crinkling around the corners as he puzzled through what she said. "Ah, si. Understand," he said, at last, standing up as if to leave. "There's something else," Sara said, stopping him. This next part didn't make any sense to her; not yet. She wanted to demand that the Ship tell her everything, right now. She had the time to listen, but Alejo only had a few minutes here and there were things she had to say. "Que? What?" he asked. "They call themselves the Tomorrow People," Sara said. "That's what I'm supposed to tell you." "The Tomorrow People?" Alejo repeated, testing the words slowly. "I no understand." "You will. I'm also supposed to tell you that." Alejo seemed satisfied with the answer, even though he clearly didn't understand it. Unlike her, he had the patience to wait for the time when the answer would make sense. He stood up again and turned as if to leave the room. He was already beginning to fade from sight, and Sara knew there was no need from him to go out the door in order to leave. The door still wasn't an exit, but one wasn't needed. He turned back before he got there with a final question. "You are?" he asked, his eyes narrowed as if he already knew the answer and wasn't sure he liked it. "A Tomorrow People?" Sara thought back over everything that had happened: Clara's disappearance, and her own entrapment; at the fantasy world she had created in her own head, and how desperately lonely she had been there, and what she'd done to try to ease that loneliness. And Lisa, a Tomorrow Person in spite of herself who had come to accept what she was. That was something they should have had to common: being Tomorrow People. Sara looked at Alejo, but could see nothing in his brown eyes except open curiosity. He wasn't going to judge, because he didn't understand enough to make a judgement.. She next looked to her sister, to the china blue eyes that matched her own. These were also open and waiting. There was no judgment there either; it did no one any good to critique the could-have beens. Clara just wanted to know how this question was going to be answered. Sara shook her head slowly, a small smile starting on her lips. "Oh no," she stated, "Not any more." END --=====================_9990194==_ Content-Type: text/plain; charset="us-ascii"; format=flowed --=====================_9990194==_-- - To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com" with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message. For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send "help" to the same address. Do not use quotes in your message. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: aixla@juno.com Subject: (arfic-l) Out of Eden 1/1 Date: 19 Nov 2001 23:20:21 -0800 Title: Out of Eden 1/1 Author: Ailie McFarland E-Mail: aixla@juno.com Spoilers: Tabula Rasa Rating - R for language Archive: http://www.fanfiction.net and eventually http://www.geocities.com/aixla/fanfiction (I'm so behind on that) Distribution: Oh! Well, if it helps at all, I'm gonna say yes. Disclaimer: Not mine. I would never let Willow hurt Tara like that (even though I'm a W/O shipper for life). I'd like to borrow Spike for just one night, though. ;) Author's note: I've never written a BtVS story with language like this before, especially not with most of it coming out of Willow's mouth. My theory is that with all she's done lately the language would not be out of character for her at this point in time. Agree, disagree? Let me know! In other words, FEEDBACK ME! Please? ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ "Do you know what you did?" The vampire's voice startled Willow from her thoughts. Glancing at the bathroom clock, she realized she must have been sitting there on the floor for hours. "I'm talking to you, you red headed bitch! Do you have any idea what you've done?" Framed in the doorway, Spike was clearly having trouble controlling his emotions. Willow watched through bloodshot, swollen eyes as his face briefly revealed the visage of the demon inside. She turned her head. "Go away." "Sorry Red," he took a seat on the porcelain tub. "Not gonna happen. Not until you and I have a little chat." "As soon as you're gone your invitation here is as good as revoked," Willow muttered as she hugged her knees closer to her chest. "Fine by me. Little Bit'll just let me right back in again, anyway." The house was silent for a moment. Willow marvelled at that. Up until today 5 people had lived in the Summers' home, and quiet was pretty much a foreign concept. Even at night, there had been the soft sounds of her lover's breathing ... not wanting to go down that road, Willow finally spoke. "So you gonna tell me what the hell you're doing here?" Spike stood and started to pace the small room. "You shouldn't have done that to her." "Look, I've had the 'How-could-you-do-that-to-Tara?' lecture from all my living friends already. I don't need it from a dead fuck who doesn't know where he's not wanted." "As true as that may be, I'm not talking about your girlfriend." He glanced about, taking note of the empty spaces on the shelves and the boxes in the hallway. "Correction, ex-girlfriend from the looks of it. I'm talking about Buffy." "Oh, I've heard that today too. 'Magick has consequences.' I know. You know, you guys should really get together and do this all at once, I'm sick of this broken record shit." Willow uncurled herself and stood, brushing briskly by the vampire's side. "If that's all you've got to say, don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out." "You think you're hot stuff, don't you?" Spike caught up with her in a few steps. "Brought someone back from the dead, and all. Suddenly you know everything." He caught her by the arm, and Willow whipped around. "Don't touch me." Fire flamed in her eyes. "I can kill you with a single word." Smiling, Spike dropped his hand and retreated a step. "Proved my point for me. Thanks, Red. And here all these years I thought you were the smart one." Willow stormed down the stairs, with Spike close behind. "You're powerful, I'll give you that," he continued. "But you think that means you know everything, when truth is you're little more than a child. And you don't have a soddin' clue." Standing in the foyer, Willow decisive she had had enough. No words were spoken, she just glared at the unwelcome vampire as she lifted her hands, and Spike's feet rose from the floor. "You didn't just pull her out of heaven, you know," Spike called as invisible hands pushed him towards the open front door. "You cast her into her own private hell! The first time was an accident, but the second you knew bloody well what you were doing." Dropping her hands, Willow allowed Spike to crash-land. "What the hell are you talking about?" Spike pulled himself up to a sitting position and looked up at her. "You weren't there when she got her memory back. I was. It was like ... something sucked the life right out of her. Like you reached right in and ripped her heart out of her chest." "I was trying to make things better ..." "Magick can't make mistakes go away, haven't you figured that out yet? It compounds them." He had found his footing and was now glaring down at her. "Ignorance is bliss, right? So you put her back in heaven, and then cast her down. Put her right back at square one, is what you did. Any progress, anything she had dealt with was lost! Because you felt bad, you made her suffer. And truth is, you were trying to make things better for you, not her." Willow had heard that line before, from another man who wasn't wholly human. On that occasion she had been completely in the wrong, and she didn't like the parallels that were being drawn. "I don't know why you're complaining about it," she sneered, returning his stare. "Before all this Buffy never would have touched you and we both know it." "You think this is how I wanted her?" Spike's fists were clenched so tight his black-tipped fingernails drew blood. "I don't know how you know, but I'd give it all back in a second to spare her the pain. If you can't see that, then I guess I'm not the only one without a soul." "Get the fuck out!" Willow was screaming now. "Stop playing Goddess, little girl," Spike called as he stomped out the door. "You aren't very good at it." ~*~ Ailie McFarland ~*~ It could be witches! Some evil witches ... which is ridiculous 'cause witches they were persecuted, Wicca good and love the earth and women power and I'll be over here. ~ Xander I may be a cold blooded jelly doughnut, but my timing is impeccable. ~ Oz ________________________________________________________________ GET INTERNET ACCESS FROM JUNO! Juno offers FREE or PREMIUM Internet access for less! Join Juno today! For your FREE software, visit: http://dl.www.juno.com/get/web/. - To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com" with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message. For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send "help" to the same address. Do not use quotes in your message.