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From: owner-arfic-l-digest@lists.xmission.com (arfic-l-digest)
To: arfic-l-digest@lists.xmission.com
Subject: arfic-l-digest V1 #51
Reply-To: arfic-l-digest
Sender: owner-arfic-l-digest@lists.xmission.com
Errors-To: owner-arfic-l-digest@lists.xmission.com
Precedence: bulk
arfic-l-digest Thursday, October 25 2001 Volume 01 : Number 051
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Date: Sun, 21 Oct 2001 15:32:52 -0400
From: "Michele R Bumbarger" <mbumbarger@neo.rr.com>
Subject: (arfic-l) ADMIN: Alternate Realities Web Site Update 10.21.2001
10.21.2001
The archive has been updated :-) (And not a moment too soon, huh?)
Well, to ward off the shock, before you wander over there and wonder what's
going on, not only has the archive been updated, but it's also been given a
complete and total make-over. Nothing stays the same forever, and it was due
for a change.
The look, fit and feel of the site has changed, and will probably take some
getting used to. The archive is actually linked as a separate section
(appropriately named, "archive"), and for those of you are enjoy the
crossover universes, those have been moved to the section, "projects."
The adult archive is not up and functioning yet, but will be in another week
or two, please bear with me.
There is some new fiction:
The Closet by Amethyst Maiden
(New Series Tomorrow People)
An awesome 'coming of age' story. It blows my mind every single time that I
read it. Okay, it's slashy, but nothing NC-17. Kudos to Amethyst Maiden!
Found My Reason by Ailie McFarland
(Angel: The Series/Buffy, the Vampire Slayer)
Oz finds new meaning in his life.
Hearing the Click by Michele Mason Bumbarger
(Stargate SG-1/New Series Tomorrow People Crossover vignette)
The story that birthed 1,000 plot bunnies . . . or something like that. My
new obsession mixed with my old obsession and this vignette was born.
Here Until Death, and After by Nicole Gray
(All Souls/New Series Tomorrow People Crossover)
So, you ask, who exactly is Joey, anyway? Well, if you want his opinion,
that's a very good question.
The Mom of Us by Ailie McFarland
(Buffy, the Vampire Slayer)
Willow's musings during her preparations in the sixth season episode,
"Bargaining."
Walking Wounded by Amethyst Maiden
(New Series Tomorrow People)
Kevin muses about the changes in his life.
Worlds Away by Michele Mason Bumbarger
(New Series Tomorrow People Fan Fiction)
Now, finally, at long last, posted in its entirety. Check out the archive,
in the section "New Series Tomorrow People Fan Fiction" for the full story
(all thirty-five chapters of it).
Have fun, enjoy, thanks for your patience and your patronage!
Michele Mason Bumbarger
Archivist, Author and Webmistress
- -
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.
------------------------------
Date: Mon, 22 Oct 2001 23:12:56 -0700
From: Ailie S McFarland <aixla@juno.com>
Subject: (arfic-l) I'm in Love with a Girl Named Fred
?Title: IÆm in Love with a Girl Named Fred
Author: Ailie McFarland
E-Mail: aixla@juno.com
Fandom: AtS
Pairing: O/F?
Spoilers: Up to Angel S3, but no biggies.
Archives: http://www.geocities.com/aixla/fanfic.html (someday. IÆm so
behind)
Distribution: Oh! Well, if it helps at all, IÆm gonna say yes.
Disclaimer: Oz doesnÆt belong to me. If he did, none of you would ever
see him again. Ever. Fred doesnÆt belong to me either ... I think she is
me. Aside from the physics stuff, of course. IÆm just a musician. *S*
AuthorÆs note: OK, I have mono, and am severely drugged up. So maybe this
idea will make no sense to anyone but me. *L* Also, this is a rough-rough
draft. I just wanted to get peopleÆs ideas on it because IÆve never tried
to write Fred before. So any input will be *extremely* appreciated!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
You can only travel around the world for so long. No matter how many cool
things you see, or how many interesting people you meet, eventually you
have to go home. Or at least someplace where badly spoken English is the
predominant language and you can find a Chinese restaurant right next
door to a Taco Bell. Not to get all ôCheersö on you, but sometimes itÆs
nice to go where everybody knows your name.
And so when the travel-lust wore off my first thought was to head to
Sunnydale. But the idea of living in the same city as Willow and Tara was
just a little bit too much, at least for right now. So thatÆs how I ended
up here in L.A.
Of course, nothing is as I left it. When the cabby dropped me off at what
I thought was Angel Investigations, all I found was a burnt out shell of
a building. Things can change when youÆre gone for two years. Of course
some things never change; the ad that eventually led me to the hotel was
clearly CordeliaÆs work. Always trying to drum up business.
ItÆs a nice place, great actually. It occurred to me that it was a little
big for just Angel, Cordelia and Doyle, but nice. I was so busy admiring
the architecture that I didnÆt notice the brunette behind the counter
when I entered.
ôUm ... hi?ö she seemed a little nervous. ôThis is uh ... I mean welcome
to Angel Investigations. Are you ... can I do something to ... help you?ö
I smiled, trying to set her at ease. ôHey. Actually I was looking for
Angel. Or Cordelia?ö
ôOh! Well, nobodyÆs here.ö She had a soft southern accent, which became
more pronounced as she started to backtrack. ôI mean well, obviously
thereÆs someone here because IÆm here and youÆre here and I didnÆt mean
to imply that youÆre a nobody. YouÆre obviously a client and thatÆs
important because we like to help people, and I hope I didnÆt insult you
or anything by ...ö
ôWhoa, whoa,ö I started to worry that the poor girlÆs head was going to
explode. ôItÆs okay. Actually, IÆm just a friend. I was passing though,
thought IÆd say hi.ö
Her face showed obvious signs of relief. ôOh. Oh good. Because they left
me to hold down the fort for the afternoon, and IÆve never done that by
myself. And I wouldnÆt want to mess it up.ö
ôYouÆre doing fine,ö I assured her. She was actually quite cute. Her long
brown hair was pulled into pigtails, and her glasses kept slipping down
off the bridges of her nose. Those factors combined with the fact that
her face was so animated when she spoke would lead most people to believe
that sheÆs younger than she really is. But one glance at the book she had
been reading when I walked in told me differently. Some kind of complex
astrophysics or something.
Definitely not for the layman.
Realizing that she wasnÆt exactly sure what to say next, I took the
initiative. ôIÆm Oz,ö I offered, extending my hand.
She smiled, and shook my hand vigorously. ôFred.ö
Then it was my turn to smile. ôIÆm in love with a girl named Fred.ö Fred
gave me a slightly alarmed look. ôItÆs a song, from a musical. See,
thereÆs Prince Dauntless the Drab and he falls in love with Princess
Winifred the Woebegone, so he sings this song æIÆm In love with a girl
named Fred.Æö
ôMusical?ö
ôItÆs a long story. See, I play the guitar, and when I was in high school
I let someone talk me into playing pit for the spring musical. Bad idea.
Men dancing in tights is never pretty.ö
Fred giggled at that. She has a little girlÆs laugh, where she kind of
ducks her head and lets her hair fall into her face. ItÆs endearing.
Actually, it reminded me of another girl I once knew, one to whom I had
said ôYou have the sweetest smile IÆve ever seen.ö
So I quickly changed the subject.
ôAny idea when theyÆll be back?ö
Fred furrowed her brow in thought. ôWell Cordelia had to run home for
something, and Wesley and Gunn are out looking for some kind of
broadsword, I think.ö Wesley, as in former watcher Wesley? Odd, but I
didnÆt have a chance to ask about it. ôActually Angel is here, but heÆs
sleeping. Not that he usually sleeps all day, I mean, itÆs almost three
oÆclock in the afternoon and no good detective would be sleeping this
late. ItÆs just that ... we had a ... stakeout,
late last night, and he ...ö
I leaned over the counter. ôItÆs okay, Fred. I know about Angel.ö
Once again, visible relief. ôYou do? Oh good, because IÆve never been a
very good liar.ö
ôWell I like honest people, so weÆre okay then.ö
She lowered her voice to a whisper, leaning in close to me so I could
hear. ôSo what do you suppose itÆs like, having a monster like that
inside of you? æCause looking at him youÆd never know, you know?ö
It was an interesting question, one I had to think about for a moment
before I answered. ôActually,ö I said carefully, ôItÆs pretty hard.ö She
gave me a quizzical look. ôIÆm a werewolf.ö
For a moment she looked like she didnÆt know if she was supposed to laugh
or not. ôWas that a joke? I never can tell anymore.ö
ôNo joke.ö What was I doing? Telling someone whoÆs basically a complete
stranger all the details of my life? But I felt as if I could trust her
for some reason.
ôOh, well I have a secret too.ö Fred paused to take a deep breath. ôI
spent the last five years trapped in a demon dimension where humans are
used as slaves.ö
Not what I was expecting, but after two years in Sunnydale and two more
traveling to some of the strangest places in the world, I could believe
it. ôWow. That kinda sucks.ö
ôYeah, it did. But then Angel showed up and ... well, everythingÆs better
now.ö
I wasnÆt really sure what to say next. I mean, after you share some of
your most intimate secrets you canÆt really go back to ôhowÆs the
weather?ö Luckily, I didnÆt have to think long.
ôOz?ö Angel was sleepily descending the stairs, rubbing his eyes as if he
wasnÆt sure he was seeing clearly.
ôHey,ö I answered. ôPassing through, thought I should stop by.ö
He reached the bottom and extended a hand. ôOf course. How are you?ö
We started into the usual pleasantries, but my mind and eyes kept
drifting back to the girl behind the counter. She had already buried
herself in her calculations. But once, just once, she looked up and her
eyes met mine.
And she smiled.
~*~ Ailie McFarland ~*~
That'll put marzipan in your pie plate, Bingo!
I may be a cold blooded jelly doughnut, but my timing is impeccable.
________________________________________________________________
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- -
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------------------------------
Date: Tue, 23 Oct 2001 13:50:58 -0400
From: "Michele Bumbarger" <mbumbarger@hotmail.com>
Subject: (arfic-l) ADMIN: Invitation to Join Meandering Muse
Invitation to Join Meandering Muse
This is an invitation to join a new mailing list at Yahoo!Groups
(http://groups.yahoo.com).
Meandering Muse is a fan fiction support community dedicated to the writers
of fan fiction. The purpose and goal of this list is to provide authors a
place to join with one another, share ideas, develop plots, and overcome
writer's block. This is a place for the discussion of projects currently
being worked on and a place to post works in progress.
The list however, is not only for authors, but also for readers of fan
fiction. The only requirement for joining this list is a willingness to
share your writings and a willingness to provide feedback on what others
have written. Community participation is a central focus of this list.
For more information about Meandering Muse, you may visit the homepage at
Yahoo!Groups: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/meanderingmuse
To subscribe to Meandering Muse, send a blank email to:
meanderingmuse-subscribe@yahoogroups.com
To contact the List Owner, send an email to:
meanderingmuse-owner@yahoogroups.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.
------------------------------
Date: Thu, 25 Oct 2001 10:35:54 -0400
From: "Michele Bumbarger" <mbumbarger@hotmail.com>
Subject: (arfic-l) Rescued Part 0/3
Rescued
A Forever Tomorrow Story
By Michele Mason
Part 0 - Author's Notes & Disclaimer
This is the first in a series of vignettes and short stories for Forever
Tomorrow that will be slowly posted over the upcoming weeks. All of these
vignettes were completed quite some time ago, but have been gathering dust
in the hopes that the stories which fall in between the vignettes would
someday be written. Well, I'm an optimist and I haven't given up completely
on writing those stories, however, I am not holding my breath that they will
make it from outline to posting any time within the next five years.
With that in mind, Caroline and I have decided to go ahead and share what we
can with the world and our loyal readers. Please keep in mind that as these
vignettes slowly make their way to the light of day that they do contain
some minor spoilers regarding plans that Caroline and I made for Forever
Tomorrow. But, I'm hoping that it's not too much that couldn't already have
been inferred from what we've already posted.
Now, with all that firmly in mind, I want to make a few more notes on this
story.
With respect to the "established" timeline of Forever Tomorrow, this story
takes place in February of 2000. That places this story nearly two years
after my first Forever Tomorrow story, "Perceptions." Ami Jackson (The
Tomorrow People) is training as a Watcher under the watchful and paternal
eye of Joe Dawson (Highlander: The Series).
A final footnote is that the events depicted here, (ie the back story
regarding Duncan and his friend, Dominic) will probably never be written. It
was never planned as a full story in and of itself, and was only meant to be
explained in detail in a vignette from Joe Dawson's POV. I believe that most
of the details can be extrapolated, and I won't go into them here.
Disclaimer: Chances are, if you recognize them, then they aren't mine.
Duncan MacLeod, Rachel MacLeod, Joe Dawson, Richie Ryan and Methos and other
characters from Highlander: The Series are all the property of Panzer/Davis,
Rysher Entertainment, and Gaumont Television. The characters of Ami Jackson,
Jade Weston and any other Tomorrow People you might recognize belong to
Roger Damon Price, Thames/Tetra Television and ITV. Dominic is a figment of
my imagination and Cat Fraser belongs to Caroline Fales. I'm not making a
profit off of this, trust me on that one.
For more Forever Tomorrow stories or to refresh your memory, you can visit:
http://www.alternate-realities.net/archive/forever/forever-index.html.
//Words written in slashes like this\\ represent emphasis/italics.
All feedback should go to mbumbarger@hotmail.com.
I hope you enjoy.
Michele Bumbarger
Posted: 10.25.2001
**********************************************
Alternate Realities Fan Fiction Archive
http://www.alternate-realities.net
**********************************************
_________________________________________________________________
Get your FREE download of MSN Explorer at http://explorer.msn.com/intl.asp
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with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message.
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"help" to the same address. Do not use quotes in your message.
------------------------------
Date: Thu, 25 Oct 2001 10:39:51 -0400
From: "Michele Bumbarger" <mbumbarger@hotmail.com>
Subject: (arfic-l) Rescued - Part 1/3
Rescued
A Forever Tomorrow Story
By Michele R Mason
Notes & Disclaimer in Part 0
*****
Part One
Glenfinnan, Scotland
2000
Duncan reined the horse in, squinting into the twilight. He closed and
opened his eyes slowly, already knowing that what he saw would neither
change nor fade. A figure appeared where there had been open space, and
after carefully checking the surroundings, the figure headed toward him in
determined strides.
Duncan wondered at what point in time that seeing a figure materialize out
of thin air had become as commonplace as breathing. These days, he didn't
even blink when the bright light of teleportative energy appeared near him.
Of course, it hadn't always been that way. Duncan MacLeod had spilled his
fair share of coffee and drawn his katana far too many times before
developing the ability to treat it as a normal everyday occurrence.
Once upon a time, he would have laughed at the person who suggested that
people could teleport. That had been before he met the Tomorrow People, the
next step in human evolution. Before he got to know and grow fond of the
extraordinary young men and women with psychic abilities plucked right from
the pages of a science-fiction novel.
As the figure drew closer, Duncan dismounted. She was dressed for the
highland winter, so her being here was planned and deliberate. Bundled in a
ski coat, her long, dark hair held back by a simple head wrap, she met his
eyes across the distance. He held the reins, not speaking, simply watching
her approach.
She'd grown up in the intervening years. All of the Tomorrow People had.
When Duncan first met her, she had been a quiet, simple, nineteen-year-old
college student. Confident in her abilities as a Tomorrow Person, but unsure
of her place in the world. Back then, her hair had been plaited in hundreds
of tiny braids and she would have never approached him with the determined,
purposeful strides that she used now.
The more things change . . .he mused to himself.
"Let me guess," Duncan remarked dryly when she was within earshot. "Joe and
Richie are worried."
"And Cat, and Adam. But it's to be expected when you run off without even a
by your leave." Her English accent was clipped, as was her reproach. She
only came to his chest, but as he met her dark eyes, Duncan felt as though
they were eye level. However, the next moment, her voice and her stance
softened. "Of course we're worried, Mac. We're your friends."
Dominic Friar had been his friend as well.
Thoughts of Dominic made his chest tighten. Logically and rationally,
Duncan knew that he had done the right thing--that Dominic would have wanted
it this way. But his heart and his soul--the agony of Dominic's Quickening
haunted and gnawed at him.
Duncan pushed the thought aside, as he noticed the small, worried frown
forming on her face. "I was expecting Cat. Or Joe."
"You and Cat would argue." She shrugged, shifting so that her back was more
to the wind. "And it's less expensive for me to be here than Joe.
Teleportation doesn't give you jet lag."
"You've been hanging around Richie too long, Ami. You're developing his
sense of humor."
Ami smiled. It was a soft, sweet smile that touched her dark eyes. "There
are worse things you could accuse me of, Duncan MacLeod."
"Well, now that you've seen I'm alive and well, are you going to pull your
little disappearing act and report back to Joe?"
"Already did, Mac." Ami winked. "Jade and Cat are talking to Joe right now."
Teleportation he had grown accustomed to. There was tangible evidence of
that particular behavior. He could see teleportation. Telepathy, however,
still took him by surprise.
"You're not going to get rid of me that easily, Mac."
"Ami, I don't need a babysitter."
"No, but you do need a friend."
Duncan MacLeod, four hundred year old Immortal, didn't have an answer for
that.
He settled for offering to buy her dinner.
* * * * *
"It definitely has atmosphere," Ami took a drink from the heavy wooden
tankard while her eyes explored the dimly lit, natural wood interior of
Glenfinnan Inn.
She hadn't known exactly what to expect when Mac offered to buy her dinner,
his manner as mysterious as Methos. Actually, Ami hadn't known what to
expect when she agreed to look in on the Scot at Glenfinnan. Duncan MacLeod
was a master of brooding and self-martyrdom, and when he didn't want to be
disturbed, he usually made certain that he wasn't disturbed. After his
encounter with Dominic Friar, he had packed up and flown to Europe. He'd
been to Paris, Madrid, Rome, Athens, and lastly Glenfinnan. He didn't call,
didn't write, and did a pretty good job of avoiding all the Watchers Joe
assigned to him. Both Joe and Richie toyed with the idea of visiting him --
but they knew that if Mac was in one of his moods, he wouldn't take kindly
to their intrusion.
So, they cornered Ami and Jade, at least as much as they could corner a
Tomorrow Person, after deciding that Cat's temper and outspokenness were
just a bit too heavy handed for what they wanted done. For the past three
days, the two of them had kept a close watch on the Immortal, never making
contact. His routine remained the same: in the morning, he ran five
kilometers and in the afternoon, hidden among the ruins of Glenfinnan
Castle, he practiced sword forms. During the evenings, he would ride out on
horseback, have dinner, usually alone, although sometimes with Rachel, who
owned the inn, and then he would retire to his room with a book.
"He's reading when Rachel MacLeod is within arm's reach?" Methos had looked
up in surprise at that revelation. "He really is wallowing in it this time."
The 5,000-year-old Immortal had added a few additional remarks that made
Jade's cheeks turn red, and earned him a harsh cuff on the head from Cat.
Of course, Ami had to agree with Methos. Duncan MacLeod was an extremely
attractive man, and normally wasn't one to ignore a beautiful woman who
wanted to keep him company. Well, unless Amanda was in town, acting for all
the world like a she-cat protecting her brood. If Mac wasn't paying
attention to Rachel, he really was upset.
However, noticing that his routine never varied, and that he wasn't building
his own guillotine, Ami decided to stop playing cloak and dagger and simply
confront him. He hadn't been surprised; and he had delivered on his promise
of good food and a charming atmosphere.
"Rachel works hard to give the place what she calls a 'historic' feel." Mac
tore a chunk of bread from the loaf between them. "Right down to the
lighting."
"Or lack of," Ami corrected, facing him in the flickering candlelight of the
numerous candelabras. "It worked, though. She really did give this place
atmosphere."
"Well, not exactly." Duncan bit the bread and chewed slowly, his light brown
eyes holding hers. Ami waited patiently; she knew Mac was teasing her,
hoping she would become absolutely agitated by his silence and demand to
know more. Instead, as she met his gaze calmly and continued to eat, he
finally smiled and swallowed. Taking a drink, he continued. "Well, for
starters, it would be much darker. We'd never have wasted all these
candles. And it wouldn't smell so good, either."
Ami paused, fork halfway to her mouth. "It wouldn't smell so good?"
"Of course not. We didn't bathe very often back then." Mac speared a slice
of beef with his knife. "The dirt protected us."
"From what?"
"Bad spirits." Mac winked at her.
"Duncan MacLeod, I heard ye had a dinner guest, but I had ta see it with me
own eyes ta believe it."
Ami looked up in surprise at the woman who leaned against the table. This
was Rachel MacLeod, and she understood the reason behind Methos's rather
crude remarks. The woman was beautiful, with stunning red hair and bright
green eyes. "Hello."
"Ah, Rachel MacLeod, Ami Jackson." Mac handled the introductions with
gentlemanly flourish.
"Ye do keep the most interesting company, Duncan."
"Tell me about it," Duncan muttered.
Ami shot him a dark glare, but was unable to say anything as she realized
that Rachel was now speaking to her. "I dinna suppose ye'll be leavin'
tonight, Ami. I'll see ta a room for ye. Next time, have Duncan send word.
The men folk, they never think of these things."
Ami watched her hurry away, then swung her attention back to Duncan. "How
many generations removed is she?"
"Lots," Mac proceeded to eat the meat from the knife. "But she's clan
MacLeod. This is Glenfinnan, home to the clan MacLeod, you know?"
"I know." Ami helped herself to another piece of bread. "And you were born
here in 1592 on the shores of Loch Shiel." Even as she spoke the words, they
boggled her mind. The fact that the man seated across from her was 408
years old, but didn't appear a day over thirty-five never ceased to amaze
her.
"You've been paying attention." Mac pushed his chair away from the table,
and stood, holding his hand out to her. "Come here, I want to show you
something."
Curiosity getting the better of her, Ami took the offered hand and followed
the Immortal. He stopped in front of an open wooden case. The case held a
tartan and a rather large sword.
"That's the MacLeod tartan. And that's," he indicated the sword, "the
MacLeod sword. It was carried by the chieftain." Mac reached out a hand,
his fingers hovering only centimeters from the sword. "I was a chieftain's
son and as a child, I always dreamed of the day that it would be mine."
The candlelight danced across his face, illuminating the slight frown to his
lips. Pain flashed across his face as his eyes took on the familiar glaze
that marked an Immortal's submergence into very vivid memories.
"Mac?" Ami placed her hand lightly on his arm, drawing him back. "Mac?"
He looked to her, seeming to shake himself free of the memories, but not of
whatever sadness went with them. With a forced smile, he patted her hand.
"I'm all right. Just remembering."
Ami wrestled with her desire to follow this path down which Mac had begun to
wander, and her concern for her friend's emotional state. She didn't know
anything about Mac's life before he became Immortal, or even how he had
become Immortal. It wasn't something he talked about. Richie and Joe both
clamed up the first time she inquired, insisting that it was Mac's story to
tell. She thought that maybe Cat knew, but then again, Cat had grown up with
the legends of the MacLeods; and Cat probably got her information from
Connor.
Mac made the decision for her. "Our dinner is getting cold."
They continued to talk and banter the rest of the evening, but Ami didn't
fail to notice the distance in the Immortal's eyes. She knew that he was
only half with her; the other half was lost in the past, with the boy who
dreamed of being a clan chieftain.
***
TBC
**********************************************
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.
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"help" to the same address. Do not use quotes in your message.
------------------------------
Date: Thu, 25 Oct 2001 10:41:15 -0400
From: "Michele Bumbarger" <mbumbarger@hotmail.com>
Subject: (arfic-l) Rescued - Part 2/3
Rescued
A Forever Tomorrow Story
By Michele R Mason
Notes & Disclaimer in Part 0
*****
Part 2
* * * * * *
Duncan MacLeod stared at the words on the page before him. They blurred and
shifted, forming an endless tide of incomprehensibility. He had been reading
the same paragraph for the past hour. He snapped the book closed with a
groan of frustration. Reading clearly was not going to be his soothing
recourse this evening.
He couldn't focus. Not for lack of trying, but the ability to make sense out
of the words on the pages eluded him. The same way his place as Clan
Chieftain eluded him. The same way the ability to accept and make sense of
Dominic's death eluded him.
Dominic had been a friend. Duncan trusted him, loved him like a brother. He
could still see the man kneeling before him, sobbing like a small child.
Duncan still heard Dominic's frantic pleas for Duncan to end it all.
Duncan hadn't wanted to kill him. Never mind that Dominic had long ago tired
of the Game. Never mind that the witch trials he had survived, that being
buried alive and lost as sea for hundreds of years had set his mind on edge.
Never mind that Dominic's mind melded reality and fantasy and his moments of
lucidity were rare. Duncan hadn't wanted to kill him.
Duncan MacLeod had sought a way to help him. He read the Chronicles that Joe
allowed him to read; he thought back, with great guilt and anger, to all the
patients he had observed Sean Burns with. He tried to reason with Dominic,
when Dominic could reason at all and wasn't brandishing his sword at
whatever crossed his path. He tried to pull the man back from the depths of
lunacy into which he had descended.
But in the end, Duncan MacLeod had failed. He had failed and he had to kill.
He failed Dominic in the same way he failed his father and mother; like he
failed Darius and Tessa and Fritz. Never mind that James Horton was no
longer a threat, or that he had Kalas's Quickening. Two wrongs did not make
a right; his failure still left blood on his hands and his soul.
And still there were those he called friend. Methos, Richie, Joe, Amanda,
the Tomorrow People. They supported him and stood by him. Joe who spared his
life when it would have been easier to take it; Methos who pulled him back
from the edge of the Dark Quickening. Even the Tomorrow People, with their
inability to kill or to understand the dark nature of Immortals, supported
him.
Ami and Jade had been watching him for three days. He pretended not to
notice them; he hadn't really cared that they were there, reporting back to
Joe what he had for breakfast and where he had it. His heart knew that they
were there because they cared. They wouldn't have given their surveillance
of him the time they did had it been other wise.
Lacing and unlacing his fingers, Duncan's eyes roamed to the wall. A
painting of Castle Glenfinnan decorated the center of it, hanging over the
only bed of the room. However, it was neither the wall nor the painting
toward which he directed his attention. He considered what lay beyond the
wall, in the next room. Without plausible explanation of how she could
simply disappear into the night, Ami had settled into the room for the
night. She was a friend. He could talk to her.
"Ami, I don't need a babysitter."
"No, but you do need a friend."
Yes, he did. But how could he talk to her about this? The Tomorrow People
didn't kill. They were full of hope and light, and not weighed down by the
darkness that always hovered around Immortals.
"I was a chieftain's son and as a child, I always dreamed of the day that it
would be mine."
She hadn't pressed him to explain. The questions danced in her eyes, but she
kept silent, waiting to see where he would lead the conversation. She held
her tongue, waiting to see if he would lead the conversation anywhere at
all. He hadn't. And she hadn't pushed him.
"No, but you do need a friend."
Duncan laced his hands together and continued staring at the wall.
* * * * * * *
Ami propped the pillows up behind her back, opening the book across her lap.
Occasionally, she would glance up at the opposite wall, and with a
long-suffering sigh, shake her head and return to reading. She could sense
Duncan MacLeod on the other side of the wall. Not the way she would sense
another Tomorrow Person; nor was it the way she sometimes sensed the
thoughts and emotions of non-telepaths. Immortals seemed to have a strong
psychic projection field; when their emotions were strongest, it was quite
easy to sense them, or at least their emotions. And Duncan MacLeod's
emotions held all the calm and tranquility of a hurricane.
Ami turned the page.
Guilt, anger, rage, sadness. They cycled through him and warred with one
another. Had she been new to her abilities, and unaccustomed to blocking and
filtering outside influences, she might have broken down and cried. As it
stood, it remained difficult for her to maintain concentration long enough
to read one paragraph after another. Ami wondered how anyone could manage to
keep themselves alive for four hundred years with that level of warring
emotions. Of course, Mac's emotions hadn't been like that before Dominic
showed up in Seacouver or before he had been driven to show her the MacLeod
tartan and sword.
Another page.
Sadness. Endless sadness. Ami wondered if Duncan ever allowed himself to
truly feel the pain. She wondered if he ever cried. She had seen him angry,
ready to rip something to shreds. Ami had seen him happy, and laughing; but
the sadness he locked away, he kept it hidden as if he was afraid to allow
anyone to see it. Including himself.
The knock on her door startled her.
Ami closed the book. "Yes?"
"Ami, it's Duncan." His voice sounded heavy. "May I come in?"
"One minute." She crawled out of bed and into her bathrobe.
"I couldn't sleep and I noticed your light was on," Duncan explained as she
opened the door. Staring at him, as he stood in the doorway silhouetted by
the dim light from the hallway beyond, Ami felt her breath catch. Sometimes,
Duncan MacLeod had that effect on her; she was relatively certain that there
weren't many women whom Duncan MacLeod didn't have that affect on. He was
incredibly handsome, particularly with his hair loose and flowing over his
shoulders. Too handsome.
Ami gave herself a mental shake. This was Duncan MacLeod after all.
"That makes two of us." Ami stepped aside, allowing him entry. "I usually
read myself to sleep, but I wasn't having much luck tonight."
"What were you reading?" the smile didn't reach his eyes.
Ami closed the door. "Dean Koontz."
"No wonder you aren't having any luck," Mac commented dryly, settling into
the armchair across the room. "I don't think that Dean Koontz writes bedtime
stories."
Ami gave a slight laugh. "Maybe not. But it's an interesting book. I almost
didn't put it down to answer the door."
"Glad to hear I'm at least slightly more important than Dean Koontz's latest
novel." He settled back in the chair, his eyes focused intently on her. "I
hope you don't mind being stuck here for a few days."
Ami sank to the bed. "There are worse places to be stuck. I would rather
that I'd been able to teleport back home, but what's done is done." She
leaned forward, folding her hands together, and winked at him. "Besides, if
I'd teleported back, I would have missed dinner."
"And being here gives you an opportunity to keep a closer eye on me?" Mac
propped his elbow on the arm of the chair, head resting on his hand.
"I'm not keeping an eye on you, Mac."
"So what do you and Joe and Jade call it?"
Ami stared at him, his words sinking in. He had known that she and Jade were
there all along. "You knew we were watching you? And you didn't say
anything?"
"Better you and Jade than one of Joe's people. I really haven't been in the
mood for Watchers."
Ami shook her head. This man never ceased to amaze her. "So, what can I do
for you, Mac?"
"Talk to me." He spoke softly, his eyes almost pleading. "I've been talking
to myself for most of the night, and I don't like what I'm hearing." He
shifted, sitting up and leaning back. "Do you want to hear about it? About
how I became Immortal?"
***
TBC
**********************************************
Michele B.
Archivist, Author & Webmistress
Alternate Realities Fan Fiction Archive
http://www.alternate-realities.net
**********************************************
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------------------------------
Date: Thu, 25 Oct 2001 10:42:30 -0400
From: "Michele Bumbarger" <mbumbarger@hotmail.com>
Subject: (arfic-l) Rescued - Part 3/3
Rescued
A Forever Tomorrow Story
By Michele R Mason
Notes & Disclaimer in Part 0
*****
Part 3
The words surprised Duncan even as he spoke them. He hadn't known what drove
him to knock on Ami's door in the middle of the night. He had only known
that he was tired of being alone with his own tortured thoughts and demons.
Seeing her face, even exchanging a few words with her had reminded him that
he wasn't completely alone.
"Only if you want to talk about it." Ami spoke up slowly, but he didn't have
to be telepathic to read the curiosity in her dark eyes. And he couldn't
blame her for that. How many years had he known her, gone out of his way to
protect her whenever possible, but never shared much of his past with her.
"It changed my life." He stood and walked to the window. It was easier to
stare off into the night, to stare at the stars than to look at another
face. He didn't really want to see her face, not until he finished. He'd
seen the looks of incredulity and pity often enough. "I died. On the
battlefield. I fought bravely and savagely, but not well enough. I fell on
that field and I died. When I woke up, I was an outcast. I was called a
demon, a devil and worse. My father threw me out of the village, out of the
clan. I had nothing left. I didn't understand what happened, but I had
nowhere to go. I hadn't a clue of what had happened to me."
"Mac, you don't have to--"
He shook his head, not looking in her direction. "I have to. Sometimes I
have to talk about it. To remember it. It's a part of who and what I am. And
who and what I was." Slowly, he turned, facing the young woman still seated
on the bed. "One day, I ran into my father on the road, returning from a
hunt. That was when I learned I was a foundling; I wasn't even truly his
son."
"What did you do then?" Duncan blinked at her. None of the pity he expected.
Her words were compassionate, but not full of pity. She stared at him with
genuine interest and expectation. "When did you meet Connor?"
Duncan shook his head, and crossed the room. He sat beside her on the bed
and folded his hands. "I didn't meet Connor for a long while yet. But when I
did--I finally had some answers, and some understanding of myself.
"It's always hard coming back here."
"Remembering?" Ami prompted.
Duncan nodded. "Immortal memories are vivid. Sometimes you get caught up in
them." That was an understatement. Usually, he was swept away by the
intensity of his memories and the sensations associated with them. The
Immortal stared for a moment at the young person on the bed beside him. A
deep understanding and empathy lurked in her dark eyes. Of course, Duncan
realized in his current state, she was probably noticing every one of his
emotions. "I'm sorry."
She frowned. "Sorry? What for?"
"This can't be easy for you. Dealing with me. With my emotions."
"Duncan," Ami took his hand, her voice warm. "You're my friend. And I'm not
fragile."
"Trust me, Ami. I have never thought that you were fragile." Duncan paused,
placing his free hand atop hers, holding her hand between both of his.
"Defenseless, maybe. But never fragile."
"Defenseless?" Ami tilted her head, her voice slightly sharp.
"In my world, yes." Duncan had expected the sudden defensiveness in her
voice. He got it often enough from Cat and Jade. The Tomorrow People didn't
see themselves as helpless or defenseless, but they were only mortal--they
could die; and in his world of swords and violence, they were somewhat
defenseless.
"Then, I guess I should be happy to have you to protect me Duncan MacLeod."
He searched her eyes with his own, searching for any sign of sarcasm or
annoyance. He found none. "I hope you meant that as a compliment."
"Maybe." She flashed him a mysterious smile and gave him a wink. Then her
smile faded, and she sobered. "Who protects you from you?"
The odd question left him momentarily speechless. "What do you mean?"
"You spend your whole life protecting others, Mac. You live by this code of
honor that even you can't hold up. There's a reason that Methos calls you
boyscout." Ami shifted, turning so that she faced him more completely. He
flinched at her reference of boyscout, but remained seated. Ami wasn't the
sort to start speaking without reason; he owed her the decency of listening.
"But who protects you from you? Who do you turn to when you start to feel
like you can't go on? What do you do?"
"I deal with it." Duncan surprised himself by averting his eyes. He was
normally the one giving these little lectures; he was accustomed to be on
the receiving end of one. "I'm Immortal, this is the way I am. I go on."
"You feel guilty and depressed and you hold it all in. Like now. Like about
Dominic."
Duncan flinched, shrinking away from her. "I don't want to talk about
Dominic."
"Because you feel guilty for doing what you had to do?"
He stood, his heart tightening. He didn't need to hear this; he didn't want
to hear this. Not from anyone. Not from Joe, not from Methos, and not from
Ami. That was why he'd gone to Europe, why he had come to Glenfinnan. He
could deal with this on his own. In his own time. "You canna understand."
"I understand guilt, Mac."
Duncan took a deep breath, reigning in his angry outburst. He clenched and
unclenched his fist. How could she ever expect to understand? She had never
raised a weapon against anyone in her whole life. She never would. She
couldn't. As Megabyte was so fond of saying, "We're sort of hard-wired
against it."
"I don't want to discuss this, Ami." Three strides carried him to her door.
"No. You would rather go back to your room and hate yourself for a few more
hours."
If there had been anger or bitterness in her voice, he would have kept
walking. If she had screamed the words, or snapped them, it would have given
the impetus to yank the door open and leave her room. However, she whispered
them, her voice rich with compassion and sympathy.
He paused, trembling, his hand on the doorknob. "I didn't want to kill
Dominic. I had to."
"And now you have to forgive yourself."
"But I canna!" Duncan whirled around to face her, his hands clenched by his
sides. "Ye dinna understand. Dominic was my friend. I loved him like my own
brother. And I--" He shook his head, fighting off the memory of Dominic
kneeling before him; Dominic crying and pleading like a child.
"You did what you had to do." Her voice remained low and soft. She moved
towards him, slowly and deliberately. Ami's hands captured his, forcing the
fists to unclench. "Mac, Dominic came to you and asked for your help--"
"Taking his head was help?" Duncan didn't try to fight the tears that burned
his eyes. His heart pained and throbbed in agony.
"Was there anything else that you could have done?" She stroked his hands,
his arms, all the while her voice remaining soft and calm. "Was there, Mac?
He came after you twice; he went after Joe and Richie. What more could you
have done?"
"I coulda helped him."
"How?"
He stared down at her through his tears. "I don't know."
"Listen to me, Mac. You couldn't have helped him. You tried. You searched
and searched for every opportunity and you found nothing. You did nothing
wrong. You did what Dominic wanted you to do."
"Then why do I feel like I failed him? Like I've failed everyone before."
Her hand brushed lightly against his cheek. "Who have you failed?"
He turned away from her touch, from the quivering inside of him that yearned
to break down the barriers and allow her inside. There was too much darkness
inside of him, too much that she could never and would never understand. He
would not burden; he refused to burden anyone. "Ye dinna understand. I have
to go now--"
Duncan didn't know whether Ami moved quickly or teleported. She was between
him and the door so quickly, that he hadn't been able to anticipate her
motion. "No. You're not leaving. Not yet. Not until you talk about this."
"I dinna want ta talk!" He heard the richness of the brogue in his voice. It
alerted him to how easily and how quickly he was loosing control. Loosing
control of himself, loosing control of the situation. Duncan had to leave
soon; he had to get away from her before--
- --Before what? Before she managed to punch more holes in the armor he wore?
Before she saw even further into the darkness of his heart and soul? Before
she insinuated herself so deeply into his soul that he would bare all to
her?
Duncan trembled, turning away from her, away from the dark eyes which cried
out in understanding and threatened to swallow him. "I canna talk about
this, Ami. Please."
"Is it so frightening to let someone in?" He felt her hands on his
shoulders, on his back. "Mac, you know I can feel your pain. You can't hide
it from me. And if you keep it inside, it's only going to get worse."
He moved away from her, attempting to place some distance between them. He
needed a moment to collect himself, to control the ebb and tide of the
emotions within him. However, he only made it as far as the bed, sinking to
it and covering his face with his hands. He inhaled sharply, taking long
deep breaths. Duncan tried to think of anything but Dominic and all the
guilt he felt over all the years. He thought about the good times, the happy
times, and slowly felt the vestiges of control returning.
He felt her settle beside him. He felt the warmth of her body, and caught
the faint hint of soap on her skin. Duncan felt her arms encircle him, her
voice a soft whisper. "You can't carry the weight of the world on your
shoulders, Mac. It's too heavy, even for you."
Duncan lifted his head from his hands, meeting her eyes. "Ami, I think
that--"
One hand went to his lips, covering them with her fingers. "No. I'm not
finished yet. You think that you have to protect everyone and everything you
come into contact with. You protect Joe, you protect Richie, although I'm
pretty sure he's good with that sword or he wouldn't be alive anymore. You
race halfway around the world at the drop of a hat to rescue Amanda and she
has six hundred years on you. And I've lost count of the number of times
when I would have rather been dealing with my Mum instead of you."
She paused a moment, smoothing back his hair as though he were a small
child. "You can't protect everyone all the time. And we don't expect you to.
You can't keep trying to save the entire world, because it just isn't
possible. Every now and then there's going to be a problem that's bigger
than Duncan MacLeod, and that's the way it is.
"The only person you have ever failed is you. You didn't fail Darius, or
Tessa, or Fitz, or anyone else. You failed you. And the reason you failed is
because you try to live by a code so rigid that it's out of your grasp.
You're Immortal, Duncan, but you're not a superhero."
He stared at her, momentarily swept away by her words. His mind struggled to
find some argument in her words, but failed. Deep inside, he acknowledged
that she was right; her words made perfect sense.
"I canna help what I am, Ami. I canna help--"
"Let it go, Duncan. It's behind you. Let it go and forgive yourself."
" 'Tis much easier ta say the words than follow them."
"Try."
The softness of her hand against his cheek was an unexpected catalyst. He
turned his face into that palm, tears streaming from his eyes. He tried to
speak, but instead only a ragged sob came from the depths of his soul, from
the shadows of his heart. He didn't want to cry; he didn't want her to see
his weakness. He didn't want anyone to see his weakness.
Duncan tried to pull away from her, far away. He had to get away; he had to
below. But she was stronger than he expected, and she drew him close, her
arms wrapped tightly around him. Or perhaps she wasn't strong at
all--perhaps some small part of him wanted and needed to be held.
Perhaps he had been waiting to be rescued all along.
End
**********************************************
Michele B.
Archivist, Author & Webmistress
Alternate Realities Fan Fiction Archive
http://www.alternate-realities.net
**********************************************
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