ftp.xmission.com/2014.06.ftp.xmission.com.tar/ftp.xmission.com/pub/lists/arfic-l/archive/v01.n057

Internet Message Format | 2001-11-04 | 41KB

From: [e-mail] (arfic-l-digest)
To: [e-mail]
Subject: arfic-l-digest V1 #57
Reply-To: arfic-l-digest
Sender: [e-mail]
Errors-To: [e-mail]
Precedence: bulk


arfic-l-digest        Monday, November 5 2001        Volume 01 : Number 057




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

Date: Mon, 05 Nov 2001 09:49:40 -0500
From: "Michele Bumbarger" <[e-mail]>
Subject: (arfic-l) Entangled (Part 3/20)

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 "[e-mail]"
 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, 05 Nov 2001 09:46:53 -0500
From: "Michele Bumbarger" <[e-mail]>
Subject: (arfic-l) Entangled (Part 2/20)

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 "[e-mail]"
 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, 05 Nov 2001 11:56:25 -0600
From: Wendy Perkins <[e-mail]>
Subject: (arfic-l) Grimm's Law - Part 03/10

- --=====================_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
[e-mail]
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 "[e-mail]"
 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.

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

End of arfic-l-digest V1 #57
****************************

-
 To unsubscribe to $LIST, send an email to "[e-mail]"
 with "unsubscribe $LIST" 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.