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arfic-l-digest        Monday, February 12 2001        Volume 01 : Number 005




----------------------------------------------------------------------

Date: Sun, 11 Feb 2001 16:59:25 -0500
From: Mandi Ohlin <[e-mail]>
Subject: (arfic-l) "Slow Night" (1/1)

Disclaimer: All things "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" belongs to Joss
Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and (unfortunately) 20th Century Fox. "Power
Rangers Lost Galaxy" belongs to Saban Inc. No profit, no permission, no
lawyers.

Author's Note: Hey, remember "New Blood?" Well, here's the sequel...
kind of. The remainder of "Bloodlines" has been relegated to a whole ton
of fragmented scenes that I have yet to fit into full stories. Not
having the heart to ditch any of them, I'm putting the bits that can't
be integrated into larger stories into shorter pieces. This particular
short occurs during the BtVS episode "Lover's Walk" and was spawned from
my intense desire to have Spike appear somehow and from wondering where
he got that second liquor bottle from. Rated PG for a bit of language.


Slow Night
by Amanda Ohlin


At least the band wasn't half bad.

Mike Corbett stifled a yawn as he counted out the change and shut the
cash register, passing over a beer and a glass to a patron who'd
actually produced a valid I.D. He blinked and forced himself to maintain
the illusion of staying awake. As tired as he was, sleep was not an
option. Not with the nightmares that had been driving him up the wall.
It made him wonder just what, if anything, the Defender had managed to
transfer before Giles had banished the spirit from Sunnydale.

But now wasn't the time to dwell on that. Right now, he was simply
focusing on the fact that the night was almost over, and the majority of
the patrons were gone. It was relatively quiet now, but it hadn't been
an hour ago. The night from hell was winding down, and he just wished it
would end.

That blonde friend of Cordelia's - Harmony, that was her name - had
spent half the night trying to hit on him. A couple of underage kids
went and complained to the manager when Mike didn't serve them alcohol.
Nick had been jostled by a couple of drunks and dropped an entire tub of
dirty glasses. And Tina, much to the frustration of patrons, had been
consistently messing up drink orders all night. It had reached the point
where Harry, the manager, had stepped out for a moment, ostensibly to
run a last-minute errand. He'd been gone for two hours now.

Consequently, everyone was complaining to him. A couple of jocks had
actually gone and threatened to hurt him; Tina had managed to distract
them with shameless flirting, something she excelled at. If she hadn't
intervened, Mike probably would have thrown the first punch himself.

Turning away for a moment, Mike poured himself a mug of coffee and took
a long drink, not even bothering with the creamer. He had faced lousy
days on duty in the GSA, and they had never made him this frustrated.
And those were days he'd been shot at, nearly blown up, and fallen to
his apparent death. The sad thing was that for the Bronze, this was
actually a slow night. Harry had to hire some more help.

"Could I get some service sometime tonight?" a voice with a British
accent slurred.

Mike set the mug down before he could break it and turned to face the
newest assailant. The man slumped on the bar stool looked like a Billy
Idol wanna-be, with bleached blond hair and a black leather jacket. He
was also obviously smashed. "What can I do for you, pal?"

"The name's Spike. Forget the 'pal' bullshit."

"All right," Mike muttered. No point in arguing with an angry drunk.
"What do you want?"

"Shot of whiskey," Spike murmured, putting his head down on the bar.
"Forget the shot, just give me the whole bottle while you're at it."

So much for getting a break. "I.D."

The Brit looked up, glaring straight at Mike - and his face shifted,
revealing yellow eyes and fangs. "Here's my I.D."

Mike's hand flew to the stake in his back pocket, but the vampire moved
faster, lunging forward and grabbing him by the collar. No one noticed
the attack. "Look, you little pissant," Spike hissed, "either I drink
whiskey, or I drink you."

Normally, having a vampire's fangs inches from his neck would have
terrified Mike. But this was just another chapter of the night from
hell, and fatigue and frustration overrided natural instincts and common
sense. "You couldn't just have gone to Willy's."

Spike shrugged. "He's out of whiskey."

"Hey!" Both human and vampire - who abruptly shifted back to his human
face - turned to see Harmony standing there, holding a mug. "Could you
tell the idiot who waits tables that I wanted a cappucino? Not a hot
chocolate. Is that so hard?"

After a moment of consideration, Spike released his intended victim and
sat back on the stool, ostensibly to watch the fun. "Well, yeah, it is,"
Mike replied, "considering the cappucino maker's broken."

"And just how was I supposed to know that?"

For answer, Mike pointed to the clearly visible sign that Nick had taped
up over the bar. In big red letters were the words: CAPPUCINO MAKER IS
BROKEN. SORRY FOR THE INCONVENIENCE.

"Yeah, whatever." She turned her attention to the vampire, who was
looking her up and down appraisingly. "What are *you* looking at?"

"Nothing," Spike answered, continuing to fix Harmony with his stare.
After a second, she shuddered, turned and stalked off. Spike turned back
to the bar. "Now where was I?"

"Hey, asshole!"

Mike sighed as the source of the insult stormed up to the bar and
crashed down on a stool. "You always talk to yourself, Nate?"

The jock blinked and took a second to figure that out, then gave up.
"Why don't you do your damn job and give us what we ordered?" The table
full of Sunnydale football players had ordered Molson's all around, and
since Harry had been watching him like a hawk, Mike had refused. Why
they were pushing the issue a third time was beyond him.

"We've been over this. Twice. I'd like to keep this job."

"God only knows why," Spike muttered, rolling his eyes.

Nate leaned forward. "Look, I don't see the manager anywhere. So I don't
see what's stopping you from passing out the beers and keeping me from
kicking your ass."

"Alcohol kills brain cells," Mike told him. "And seeing how few you have
left, I don't think you could finish off one beer."

Even that didn't seem to get through to him. "What's that supposed to
mean?"

Spike had just about had it. He lashed out with one foot, kicking the
bar stool out from under Nate and backhanding the jock to the floor
without even getting up from his seat. "It means bugger off!"

Terrified, Nate backed away on his hands and knees before scrambling to
his feet and retreating back to his table. A general murmur passed
through the crowd before everyone went back to what they were doing. No
one made a move to approach the bar.

Mike stood there for a moment, watching Nate's retreat. After a second's
hesitation, he pulled the bottle of whiskey from the shelf and set it in
front of the vampire without a word.

"Finally." Spike uncorked the bottle and took a swig, looking at the
bartender with curiosity. "Don't remember seeing you around here. Last
guy get knocked off?"

"Probably," Mike replied, picking up his coffee mug again. He took a
step to the side, making sure there was plenty of distance between them,
and surreptitiously pulled the stake out of his back pocket.

Spike noticed his behavior and snorted. "Please. If I was going to bite
you I'd have done it already." He got to his feet and snatched up the
whiskey bottle, glancing around at the small crowd in the Bronze.
"Besides, I'd just be putting you out of your misery."

He cast a scornful look around at the patrons, smirked and strode
towards the back, whiskey bottle in hand. Mike remained locked in place,
gripping the stake tightly. Spike paused at the back door to take a swig
of whiskey before shoving someone aside and stumbling out into the
alley. The door slammed shut behind him.

Mike sagged against the bar in relief, letting the stake slide from
nerveless fingers. He was unbelievably grateful to have survived that
encounter. Harry wouldn't be happy when the bottle didn't turn up on
inventory, but that didn't seem so daunting at the moment.

But he couldn't shake the feeling that he hadn't exactly done the best
possible thing. Not that he could think of any options, but the doubt
still nagged at him.

*****

The sound nibbled at the edges of Mike's consciouness, slowly but
deliberately eroding the heavy blanket of sleep. Mike stirred, vainly
trying to burrow deeper into slumber, trying to bring back the now-hazy
dream image of a certain brown-haired girl. He only succeeded in burying
his face deeper in the pillow and getting himself tangled up in the
sheets. The incoherent babble of voices continued to penetrate, despite
his attempts to ignore it. Generally, he was a light sleeper, and if
something roused him slightly, he had to wake up completely in order to
go back to sleep.

He finally gave up the battle and stuck his head up from the couch,
blinking sleepily as the unintelligible noise sharpened into the sound
of conversation. Giles' door was wide open, but that was only because
Giles was half in and half out of the apartment, lugging heavy packs of
equipment and trying to listen to Buffy and Xander at the same time.

He somehow managed to stumble inside, equally helped and hindered by the
two teenagers. It belatedly occurred to Mike that lending a hand might
be appropriate, but he was still too dazed to do much more than sit
there and stare incomprehensibly at the sight that greeted him.

Giles, at least, had the presence of mind to look up and notice his
half-conscious tenant as he finally dropped the heavy bundle he was
carrying to the floor. "Good morning."

Mike made a noncommittal noise before his face plowed into the pillow
again.

"Wow," Xander muttered. "Guess he had a lousy night too."

*****

"...and now Oz isn't talking to Will, the Buffster's in a funk and
Cordelia's in the hospital," Xander finished. "So ends the story of why
Xander Harris is currently the lowest form of life on this planet."

"Even in your case, I wouldn't go quite that far," Giles told him. The
Watcher was more than a little frazzled; the retreat had been anything
but relaxing, and to discover the chaos that had erupted during his
absence was not helping his mood one bit. "But Cordelia will be all
right, I hope?"

Xander nodded. "Yeah. The doctors say she'll heal up, at which point
she'll probably find a sharp object and come after me with it. Can't
really blame her."

Mike was sitting there in silence, staring blankly at a point on the
wall beside the clock as he absorbed the information. "So what happened
to this Spike?" he finally managed.

"He's headed for Brazil, or someplace out of the country," Buffy
muttered bitterly. "Decided after all that to just go get her back
without a spell."

"I do hope so," Giles commented. "We have enough problems to deal with
without Spike - an inebriated Spike, no less - adding to the
complications."

"Just goes to show you why vampires shouldn't drink," Xander replied.

Buffy scowled. "Makes me want to go beat some sense into Willy. Spike is
enough trouble sober; what moron would give him alcohol on top of that?"
Mike leaned back, trying to burrow deeper into the chair.

Giles smiled slightly at that. "It's tempting, I'll admit." He turned
back to Mike. "So what was that incident you were telling me about?"

Mike very nearly dropped the mug of coffee he was holding. "What
incident?"

"The - the one at the Bronze. You did mention something about an
incident at the Bronze the other night?"

"I, uh--" Mike hesitated. "Drunk attacked me. Harry was out, they still
don't have a bouncer, and I kind of had to bribe him with a free bottle
to get him to leave without hurting anyone." Well, it wasn't a complete
lie. But it still left a bad taste in his mouth.

Here he had been, thinking that things couldn't get any worse. He'd even
considered telling Giles about the nightmares, but there wasn't much
chance of that happening now. Not with the rest of the Scooby Gang in
need of therapy. And he suspected that a large part of it had to do with
a bleached-blond vampire getting a hold of a fresh supply of whiskey.

Giles decided to get started unpacking, and Buffy went to help, leaving
Xander and Mike sitting in the living room. "I wouldn't sweat it,"
Xander told Mike, perplexed at the stricken expression on the other's
face.

"You weren't there." Mike set down the coffee cup and went over to the
desk where Giles had dumped his satchel of reading material. "Harry
would have seriously kicked my ass if he knew."

"Sounds like the booze hound might have kicked your ass anyway. One
bottle, no big deal."

Mike sighed, his attention focused on clearing off the books and putting
them away. "Yeah, I guess."

"Besides," Xander continued, "it's not like *you* went and got your
friends to endanger their lives."

The only reply he got was a series of thuds as Mike slowly pounded his
head on the desk. Xander stared at him, confused.

"What? What'd I say?"

~END~

- --
Mandi Ohlin
(who has just reformatted her hard drive and
has yet to restore her sig)
http://weirdweb.net

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 To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "[e-mail]"
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------------------------------

Date: Sun, 11 Feb 2001 17:40:53 -0500
From: Mandi Ohlin <[e-mail]>
Subject: Re: (arfic-l) "Slow Night" (1/1)

I need a brain; here's the headings I forgot to include.

Title: Slow Night
Author: Mandi Ohlin
E-mail: [e-mail] (students is not reliable)
TV Series: Buffy the Vampire Slayer / Power Rangers Lost Galaxy (3rd in
a series)
Archive: Alternate Realities, anywhere else please ask.
Summary: Where did Spike get that second whiskey bottle from? Mike
knows, and he's not talking.
Disclaimer and Author's Note: See original.

(Sorry, Michele!)

Mandi

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 To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "[e-mail]"
 with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message.
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------------------------------

Date: Mon, 12 Feb 2001 23:17:26 -0500
From: "Michele Bumbarger" <[e-mail]>
Subject: (arfic-l) FIC: Worlds Away (Part 12a/??)

Well, at least I know that one person is reading this! Thanks for letting me
know that I missed part 12 Victoria!

Title: Worlds Away (Part 12a/??)

Author: M. Bumbarger

Email: [e-mail]

Fandom: New Series Tomorrow People

Rating: PG-13/TV-14

Summary: The Tomorrow People are swept away to a different world, where they
must take up the lives of their alter-egos and try to find their way home .
. . which won't be easy.

Dedication: To Victoria for pointing out that I'm a scatterbrain.

Disclaimer: The Tomorrow People (Adam Newman, Ami Jackson, Megabyte Damon,
and Jade Weston) are the property of Roger Damon Price, Thames Television,
ITV, Tetra Television and Nickelodeon. They are used here without
permission, but not for profit. The lands, countries, customs, deities, and
original characters are mine and mine only, springing from the depths of my
imagination and should not be used anywhere else without my permission.
Please do not repost this to any list or archive it anywhere else without my
express permission.

Previous parts at http://www.alternate-realities.net/worldsaway

*****

Chapter Twelve - Elspera Keep: Homecoming

Jade was restless. She was doing her very best to hide it, but Megabyte
could tell that the girl was on the very edge of exploding at any moment.
The way she perched on the edge of the seat, her face practically pressed up
against the carriage glass as she stared out and the countryside raced past
them, biting her lip and crinkling her skirts in her hands, she showed all
the very positive and obvious signs of nervous energy. He didn't know why he
was the only one in the carriage who was aware of it, unless 'the Lady
Jadina' had always been the type to show a great deal of nervous energy and
excitement, but he supposed it was a blessing that he was the only one aware
of it. It helped avoid unnecessary questions and didn't arouse suspicion.

That had been life for the past two weeks - trying hard to avoid unnecessary
questions and arousing suspicion. It was bad enough that several times his
parents -- Marmion's parents -- whatever -- had made comments about his
change in demeanor; comments that he was clearly meant to overhear. A part
of him was glad that he was not as big of an ass that Marmion was, but
another part of him worried; he was just waiting for the day that one of
them asked him who he was and what he had done with their son.

Worse yet was the fact that he wouldn't be able to answer them. At least not
in any fashion that made sense and was acceptable.

[It's so beautiful. Wow! Are you seeing this, Marm?]

Megabyte tried hard not to grimace as Jade's mental voice rang a bit too
loudly in his head, using the name that held such echoes of the birth name
that he despised. It was only out of necessity that Jade had started calling
him Marm, Marmion just didn't sound naturally, and after nearly calling him
Megabyte twice in public, they had realized that something had to be done.
He didn't like the alternative, but again they were avoiding questions and
suspicions.

Unfortunately, she had gotten so used to calling him that name that she even
used it in private or when speaking to him telepathically.

[Yeah, Jade, I'm seeing it.]

She actually turned her face away from the window to look at him. [You don't
sound very impressed.]

[I'm . distracted. I've got other things on my mind.] Both to punctuate his
words and to keep her from staring at him while she tried to peel away the
layers of his mind, Megabyte shifted his attention out of the other window.

Two very long weeks had passed and they were no closer to finding out
anything about their arrival in this strange world. Nor had they learned
anything that might tell them how to get home. Two weeks in which they
played the roles they were assigned to play and hoped that they performed
them correctly; improvisation at its very best. Two weeks . . . two weeks of
utter frustration.

It wouldn't have been so bad if they had Adam to talk to; the elder Tomorrow
Person was always something of a shelter in the storm. Even if Adam didn't
know what to do, or where to turn next, he kept control of the situation. He
supported them in times like these, and his confidence gave them confidence.
But Adam was not there; Adam showed no signs of being there -- anywhere. For
all Megabyte knew, Adam might have been blown to another world where there
were munchkins singing, a scarecrow who needed a brain and a little girl
running around in a pair of ruby slippers and calling for her dog, Toto.

And for some reason, the image of Adam in Oz did not conjure up the humor
that it usually did from Megabyte. He was feeling far too close to the end
of his proverbial rope.

Jade did not help matters either. In the absence of their leader, she turned
to Megabyte to fulfill the role that Adam played in their lives. He had gone
from being follower to leader in the blinking of an eye - literally.

The question remained . . . what exactly was he leading?

He thought about clicking his heels three times, then remembered that he
lacked the ruby slippers.

If only real life was as easy as the movies and television.

[What are you thinking about?] Jade hadn't gone away. She was still
tiptoeing around in the back of his mind, just waiting for the opportunity
to get his attention again. That was another development that he was still
attempting to cope with since coming to this world -- Jade's endless
attention. It was worse now than it ever had been; it seemed that she didn't
wish to let him out of her sight for more than a few moments at a time. She
didn't even want to let a few hours go by where she didn't reach out to him
telepathically - reminding both of them that she was there.

He tried not to get annoyed with her. He really did. On some level, Megabyte
could see her concern. He wouldn't want to be trapped here, in a strange
place with strange people alone either - and there was really no way he
could convince her that he wasn't going to just up and disappear into thin
air. For all he knew, he might just wake up tomorrow and be somewhere else.
Or Jade might be. It wasn't a pleasant thought and he tried not to dwell on
it; but there were times like now when Jade's clinging made him want to take
her by the shoulders and shake her until her teeth rattled.

Of course, what bothered him more than Jade's new and highly improved
attachment to him was *his* attachment to *her.* Megabyte would never say it
aloud; he would never even let her have the slightest hint of what was
happening, but he did recognize that they were in this together. They were
all they had, and they needed to depend on one another.

If ever asked or challenged on it, Megabyte would deny it until he was blue
in the face. However, he could not deny that when he woke up in the morning
and found himself still on a pitching ship, he took comfort in the fact that
Jade was sleeping beside him. He wasn't alone; for all his boasting and
bragging, he was pretty certain that he couldn't have handled this alone.
He'd had more than his share of dealing with things alone - from his
father's numerous business trips and his mother's never ending parade of
vacations and lectures - no, he'd been alone enough to last a couple of
lifetimes.

And a couple of hundred weird worlds. Although, if - correction, when - they
got back to their world, Megabyte was going to hope that he never had an
adventure like this again.

[Nothing. Everything.] Megabyte bit the response off sharply, and then
winced as he sensed the sting of hurt that came from her. He sighed, and
reaching across the carriage seat, patted her hand lightly in what he hoped
was a deeply sincere and apologetic gesture. [I just need some quiet time,
all right?]

[All right.] Her response was small-voiced and meek, but at least it was
absent of the hurt and dejection that he felt from her a few moments before.
Jade's head turned back towards the window and the passing countryside, but
not before she turned her hand palm up, lacing her fingers through his.

With another sigh, Megabyte allowed her that indulgence. As long as it meant
she was quiet and not jabbering on about the scenery and her expectations of
Elspera Keep.

It hadn't anything to do with the mutual comfort they both received through
that tactile contact.

Not a thing.

*****

Elspera Keep truly was a keep in every sense of the word. A miniature castle
of gray and grain stone set atop of a small rise, a low valley dappled in
the blooms and greens of summer spreading out beneath it.

Jade's eyes had grown wider from the moment they began their final approach.
Her breathless gasps and chorus of "ooh's" and "aah's" had left Lord Bial
and Lady Margot, Megabyte still could not think of them as *his* parents,
giving her curious and worried looks until, at Megabyte's urging, she
explained that she was simply homesick after having been away for so long.
That soothed ruffled feathers, worried glances replaced by indulgent and
bemused smiles. The knowing glance delivered to him by Lord Bial, and the
warm pat on his arm from Lady Margot told Megabyte that in their eyes,
Jade's demeanor and attitude towards the keep demonstrated that something
was going right between the young couple.

While they may not have lived in a palace, or truly been royalty, they
really were the rich and famous, as Megabyte had told Jade. Over a dozen
servants greeted their carriage, and immediately set about unloading things
in such an orderly fashion that Megabyte knew this was routine for them. It
was, however, still a shock to be greeted with the title of "Lord" and to
watch as the man, Legan, who was his personal valet and manservant, bowed
and fluttered around him in a mixture of both strained respect and wariness.
Legan was not alone in that attitude, all of the servants, with the
exception of one, danced around "Lord Marmion" as though they expected him
to turn into a lion and pounce upon them for dinner at any minute. It made
him again wonder exactly what sort of man his alter ego had been; it made
him grateful that he would never have to meet the man face-to-face. At least
he hoped that he wouldn't.

The exception to the wariness he felt from each of the servants as he met --
or attempted to meet -- their eyes was in the form of Jade's lady in
waiting. Of a height no more than Jade, and certainly not very much older
than the young woman she was attending, she was an absolutely stunning
beauty. There was no other way to describe her. A heart shaped face with a
pixie smile and a dimple beamed lovingly and affectionately at Jade as she
embraced the girl as though they were sisters and not lady of the keep and
servant. Russet red ringlets framed her face, trailing down the center of
her back and her blue eyes sparkled like clear water when she turned to look
at Megabyte. There was no wariness as she regarded "Lord Marmion" with a low
curtsy that made *him* blush for all the cleavage that her dress revealed.

Megabyte had known girls like this his whole life. He stared at them from
across crowded hallways and busy streets, never once even imagining that he
would work up the courage to talk to one of them. And if one ever ended up
crossing his path, and attempting to engage him in some rudimentary
conversation, he always discovered that he very quickly forgot how to form a
coherent word.

The dryness in his mouth told him that he had just fallen victim to the same
thing again.

Luckily, Legan was there to rescue him before he made a fool of himself. "My
Lord, I am sure you will be wanting to get out of your traveling clothes and
rest after your journey. And perhaps a small repast?"

"Right," Megabyte nodded, literally jerking his eyes away from the nameless
lady servant. From the stance of Legan, he assumed the man would escort him
to his room -- and probably lay out an entire new outfit for him to clothe
himself in. The thought made Megabyte nearly bolt back into the carriage and
flee. Excepting that he had nowhere to go and no reason to flee. He was Lord
Marmion and he would have to accept these -- perks.

He nodded, realizing the man was awaiting an answer. "Yes. Change clothes
and eat."

Megabyte waited a heartbeat, and then realized that Legan would not move
first. This was not going to be fun or easy. With a sigh, he began walking
towards the keep, with his manservant falling into a comfortable pace beside
him. He paused for only a moment, turning back and wanting to say something
to Jade, to let her know that he would speak to her later, but he didn't
have to. For the first time in two weeks, the girl was wholly oblivious to
his presence. She brushed past him, her lady servant on one arm, speaking to
Jade of how much she was missed and how she looked after her travels.

Jade, naturally, was eating it up.

"I am certain that Sarena will see to Lady Jadina's needs, as she always
does," Legan remarked.

Megabyte jerked his head to look at the man, knowing that he had heard more
than a bit of acerbity in the remark. As his eyes landed on Legan again, he
saw a flicker - annoyance or disgust, he couldn't be certain - color the
mans' features before it faded completely, leaving Megabyte to wonder if he
had seen anything unusual at all.

"Is something wrong, Legan?" Megabyte asked quietly.

The way the man lifted an eyebrow and snorted softly told him that he, or
rather Marmion, had probably seen that reaction and asked that question a
great many times. "You know that I have no strong opinion one way or another
towards Sarena."

Legan made the name sound like a curse. But before Megabyte could call him
on it, or at least point out that obvious lie -- something he was certain
that Marmion would have done -- the man continued speaking. "I take it your
trip was uneventful?"

If the question hadn't been so normal, so typical of what one would ask
after a journey, Megabyte would have snorted with laughter. If he had been
Lord Marmion, then yes, his trip was uneventful. Megabyte's trip, on the
other hand, was far from uneventful.

"As well as can be expected." While it wasn't a lie, it was the most
truthful answer Megabyte could give under the circumstances. "But I'm glad
to be home."

"And we are glad to have you home."

Now, why did Megabyte get the distinct impression that that was a lie?

****



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 To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "[e-mail]"
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------------------------------

Date: Mon, 12 Feb 2001 23:19:47 -0500
From: "Michele Bumbarger" <[e-mail]>
Subject: (arfic-l) FIC: Worlds Away (12b/??)

Title: Worlds Away (Part 12b/??)

Author: M. Bumbarger

Email: [e-mail]

Fandom: New Series Tomorrow People

Rating: PG-13/TV-14

Summary: The Tomorrow People are swept away to a different world, where they
must take up the lives of their alter-egos and try to find their way home .
. . which won't be easy.

Dedication: To Victoria for pointing out that I'm a scatterbrain.

Disclaimer: The Tomorrow People (Adam Newman, Ami Jackson, Megabyte Damon,
and Jade Weston) are the property of Roger Damon Price, Thames Television,
ITV, Tetra Television and Nickelodeon. They are used here without
permission, but not for profit. The lands, countries, customs, deities, and
original characters are mine and mine only, springing from the depths of my
imagination and should not be used anywhere else without my permission.
Please do not repost this to any list or archive it anywhere else without my
express permission.

Previous parts at http://www.alternate-realities.net/worldsaway

*****

Chapter Twelve (continued)

Megabyte's assumption that Legan would serve as his wardrobe assistant was
correct. He was given very little time to take in the details of his
bedchamber, after doing his best to memorize the route he and Legan took to
find it without looking like he was doing anything out of the ordinary,
before Legan was practically demanding that he change from his traveling
clothes into something more suitable and "less road worn" for greeting the
prince.

"Prince?" Megabyte choked on the word. Yes, he knew from his readings that
he was related to royalty; he knew that he was in fact closely acquainted
with the prince, but that didn't mean he was ready to meet the man in the
flesh. "The prince is coming here?"

"Yes, he sent a missive that arrived only two days ago, stating that upon
your return, he would be visiting the Keep. Apparently, he has either missed
your company or, and this seems more likely, he comes to give you your
orders for the upcoming wedding celebration."

Somehow, without changing the tone of his voice, Legan managed to make
Megabyte feel like he was both ten-years-old and not worthy of the prince's
attention. Of course, Legan made Megabyte feel like he wasn't worthy of
anyone's attention. It made him wonder if there was some sort of feedback
cycle going on -- Legan made Marmion feel like a stupid child, so Marmion
acted like a stupid child, which caused Legan to treat him like a stupid
child.  . . so on and so forth.

Well, Megabyte might have looked like Marmion Ruele, but he wasn't. And he
wasn't going to rise to Legan's bait. "What kind of orders?"

"You act as though I would know." The attitude and answer alone told
Megabyte that Legan did know. Whether the man would tell was another matter
entirely. "My Lord, off with those clothes, quickly. His Highness will be
arriving shortly."

"Well, His Highness has bad timing," Megabyte grumbled and instantly
regretted it. So much for not behaving like a child. He began to unbutton
his traveling coat, and looked expectantly at Legan. The manservant made no
attempt to leave the room, and figuring it best to not make any waves,
Megabyte simply turned his back and stripped out of his clothes.

"He is the heir. He's allowed these indulgences," Legan remarked, swooping
in and scooping up Megabyte's clothes *as* he shed them. It made the
Tomorrow Person blush from his toes to his hair, and hope that the man would
vanish very quickly. He also hoped and prayed that this was *not* a normal
occurrence. If it was -- well, there were about to be some changes in Keep
policy.

"I had a pitcher of water brought in so that you may wash off the road
grime," Legan informed him as he gathered up the last of the discarded
clothing. "If you are quick about it, it may still be warm. I've already
laid out something more suitable to wear, and unless my Lord needs anything
else, I will take *these things* to be washed."

"Take your time," Megabyte growled, keeping his back to Legan. He didn't
move from where he stood until he heard the door to both the bedchamber and
the outer sitting room close firmly behind the man.

He was glad that it was summer. Megabyte imagined that it would be rather
cold in the bedchamber in his current state of undress at any other time of
the year. He found the pitcher and, after cursing Legan for making him thing
the water might be even minutely warm, he quickly scrubbed some of the dirt
from his face, arms and chest. Megabyte never realized quite how dirty one
got traveling on dusty roads. He hadn't had a bath or shower the entire time
since he'd been here - a fact he tried not to dwell on very much - but had
grown quite adept at scrubbing clean, shaving, and brushing his teeth, all
with one pitcher of water.

That had been culture shock at first. Scrubbing with a rag that was even
more coarse than burlap, with something that was supposed to be soap but
didn't lather or do much of anything else other than leave his skin feeling
tingly and raw, or maybe that was the rag. Brushing teeth was with a
slivered branch, and toothpaste was not existent. The mint leaves that he
was supposed to chew with the brushing didn't taste like mint at all - and
he gagged the first time he bit into one. And shaving with a straight edge
razor, on a pitching ship - well, he was lucky that he hadn't slit his
throat.

Still, he would give his right arm for a bath.

He finished scrubbing as quickly as possible and went to find the clothing
that Legan had deemed "more suitable."

"More suitable" clothes were of a much nicer material than his traveling
clothes, knee britches and leggings that made Megabyte frown, with a white
poet's shirt and a short coat that had more buttons and embroidery on it
than Megabyte would have thought possible to put on any single piece of
clothing.

He had the leggings on and the knee britches halfway in place when the door
opened again. This time, he forgot his admonishment to not be a child and
snapped out, "Believe it or not, I don't need any help getting dressed."

"You usually don't." The voice, which was not Legan's, made him freeze where
he stood.

The voice was soft and feminine -- sultry, was the word that came to mind.

Megabyte whirled to face the intruder and felt his jaw drop.

Standing in the doorway of his bedchamber, looking for the entire world as
though she belonged there, was Jade's lady servant, Sarena.

His mouth worked, but no sound came forth. He realized that he was still
half-undressed and felt his face, as well as other parts of his body, flame
as he tugged the knee britches firmly up over his hips and hurriedly
attempted to fasten them.

What was she doing in his bedroom?

"What are you doing here?!" The words came out choked and panicked, his
fingers fumbling with the buttons and hooks.

"I know His Highness is coming and that you have to get ready to greet him,
but I'll only be a minute." She moved towards him, that pixie smile now
reminding him more of the Cheshire cat than anything else. She didn't walk
towards him as much as she seemed to glide across the floor, lashes lowered
just enough that he could barely catch the hint of blue of her eyes. Her
movements were enough to give him a momentary pause, to bring back the
choking dryness and lack of thought -- and other things -- that he
associated with beautiful women.

Pause that was only until her hand came out to rest on his very bare chest,
until her body invaded his personal space and she nearly melded up against
him.  "I just didn't want to let anymore time go by before letting you know
how much I missed you."

Missed him?

A heartbeat too late, Megabyte's brain caught up with what was happening in
the room and made perfect sense of it. A heartbeat too late, because it only
took a heartbeat for Sarena to somehow wrap her arms around him and pull him
into an embrace.

If he thought his opinion of Marmion Ruele could go no lower, he was
mistaken.

Not only did the man have no respect for his wife or his marriage -- he also
clearly had no respect for his wedding vows.

Megabyte stumbled backwards, putting some distance between himself and
Sarena's arms and lips. A part of him balked, telling him that there was
something very, very wrong with avoiding a beautiful woman. Especially when
that beautiful woman was throwing herself at him in ways that were every
teenaged boy's fantasy. But he just couldn't bring himself to take advantage
of this situation, not when the world was so strange and nothing added up.

Especially not when for all intents and purposes, he was married. Yes, it
was to Jade, but he couldn't ignore marriage vows and promises as easily as
Marmion. He hadn't been raised like that; not that he thought that Marmion
had been. Rotten apples happened sometimes but . . .

His brain was actually rambling. Sarena made him ramble even when he was
thinking to himself.

"Sarena." Megabyte paused, not quite sure what else to say. Get out? Don't
touch me? Okay, that was what part of him wanted to say -- the part that was
not a nineteen year old male -- but he knew he had to play this right and
tread very carefully. He was Marmion Ruele.

And obviously, Marmion Ruele was a complete pig.

He tried again, "Sarena . . . His Highness.  . . my cousin . . ."

"Will be arriving very shortly. Don't you have other things to be about,
girl?" Legan's dry voice rang out as the man entered the bedchamber. He gave
Sarena a snort and a dismissive glare before turning his attention to
Megabyte. "I see your time away has made you slow and lazy. We shall fix
that.

"And your discretion with the company you keep as well."

If it hadn't been for the disgust with which Legan addressed him, Megabyte
would have been ecstatically happy for the man's arrival in time for rescue.
As it was, he was still incredibly happy and relieved.

Sarena paled, but only slightly, and then, as if she had experienced this
treatment before, she gathered her skirts and swept out of the bedchamber
without a backwards glance.

"Legan --"

The manservant cut him off. "Get dressed, my Lord. The prince comes."

With those words, he exited, closing the doors behind him.

Out of the pan, and into the fire.

Megabyte wondered what other surprises this world would hold.

***

[The prince is coming,] Jade's mental voice was giddy with excitement,
ringing in Megabyte's head long before he joined her in the courtyard. Not
only was she excited to be meeting the prince -- a real prince -- but she
was enjoying her life as 'Lady Jadina.' Unfortunately, after Megabyte's
encounter with Sarena, and the cold shoulder and chastising glares he
received from Legan, he was unable to share in his friend's excitement.

Joining Jade and Lord Bial and Lady Margot, Megabyte suddenly felt himself
blushing again. Although Sarena paid no more attention to him than his
wife's lady-in-waiting should have, Megabyte instantly felt the barbs of
guilt. Guilt for a crime that he hadn't even committed and guilt for not
being able to resist gawking at the woman. She was a home wrecker, but she
was beautiful.

She was beautiful and she knew it very well.

Instead, Megabyte tried to focus on Jade and the excited gibbering that she
was allowing to stream through his head. The way she was carrying on one
would have thought that the prince was coming to see her personally. And
perhaps, that wouldn't be so far from the truth - or such a bad thing. From
what Megabyte had read in Marmion's journal, more than once Prince Adam had
expressed disappointment in his cousin that he would treat his wife the way
he did, and it seemed that the prince did share a certain amount of fondness
for the Lady Jadina. Not in the romantic sense, but certainly on more than
one occasion, Marmion made it painfully clear that he wished the prince
would get his 'big brother' notions out of his head.

Then again, now knowing about the relationship with Marmion and Sarena,
maybe the prince being fond of Lady Jadina was not a good thing at all.

Jade clutched at his arm, [Do you think he's handsome?]

Megabyte rolled his eyes, [Do you think I care? I just want to get this over
with.]

[You're no fun,] her voice held a sulk.

[Whatever, kid.] If she had experienced what he had experienced since
arriving at the Keep, she wouldn't be as happy as she was at that moment
either.

She bristled at the word 'kid,' and stiffened slightly. "Don't call me
that!" She hissed aloud, but luckily no one could hear her. Megabyte himself
almost did not hear her, her words drowned beneath the sound of horses
hooves.

The prince arrived in princely splendor that made Megabyte temporarily
forget both Sarena and the young woman clutching his arm who was supposed to
be his wife. The carriage that carried the prince was decorated in violets
and gold, what could only be the crest of the royal family painted on each
side.

The first to exit the carriage was not the prince, at least Megabyte hoped
that it wasn't. The man was tall and wiry, with piercing dark eyes that took
in everything around him. His hair was salt and pepper gray, and his hand
settled comfortably on his sword as he looked around the courtyard.
Evidently seeing that all was in order, he relaxed a bit -- but still
reminded Megabyte of a lion ready to pounce.

The second to emerge was a man, a few inches taller than Megabyte and
solidly built. Yet, when he exited, he did not have the air of wariness - he
in fact, looked around the courtyard, smoothing back his sandy blonde hair
and then he smirked - smirked! - and nodded casually in Megabyte's
direction.

[Is that the prince?] Jade asked.

[How am I supposed to know?] Megabyte tossed back at her.

[Jade? Megabyte?] The voice in his head was familiar and he had been too
long without hearing it.

[Adam!] Jade squealed in delight, her fingers nearly yanking Megabyte's arm
off. [Adam! You're here, where are you?]

[I'm .oh, hang on] There was a pause while Adam radiated annoyance and
exasperation; a pause long enough for the wiry, salt-and-pepper warrior to
announce His Royal Highness, High Prince Adam Aldaric.

"Stewart, you know that's not necessary," a familiar voice drifted to their
ears as another form emerged from the carriage.

The salt-and-pepper man actually managed a smile. It didn't soften his
features, it only emphasized his hardness, but at least it was a smile.

The prince tugged his short coat and turned to face House Ruele . . . and
Megabyte was pretty certain that three faces all drained of blood.

His Royal Highness, High Prince Adam Aldaric was none other than Adam
Newman.

***End of Chapter Twelve



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