From: Worlds Away <worldsaway2001@yahoo.com>
Subject: (arfic-l) FIC: Worlds Away (11/??)
Date: 04 Feb 2001 09:01:15 -0800 (PST)

Title: Worlds Away (Part 11/??)

Author: M. Bumbarger

Email: worldaway2001@yahoo.com

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 everyone who is enjoying this madness
and encouraged me to keep on writing.

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 Eleven - Reflection

Albarasque was beautiful at sunset. Or rather, the
capital, Di'alsol was breath-taking and magnificent.
The entire capital city sprawled out around them, the
center star of a desert oasis, and it was one of the
most beautiful sites Ami had ever seen. During the
day, an opalescent sheen covered the city; a shifting
and changing rainbow-hued fire that blazed beneath the
stones. And during sunset, the effect was even more
spectacular. Every building, every rooftop, caught the
red and orange hues and painted themselves with them,
covering themselves in multi-colored cloaks.

Standing on the balcony, watching the sunset, had
become one of her most favorite pastimes since her
strange and still unexplained arrival in this world
nearly two weeks earlier. This habit of hers was the
one thing that was a constant in a world that she did
not understand and yet found herself becoming more and
more comfortable with each passing day. She stood
here, every night, and drank in the beauty of nature
while replaying the day's events in her head. During
this time, her quiet time when Nynie left her to her
own devices and even Sephrine did not bustle and
flutter about in the background, she tired to make
sense of it all; she tried to find some clue or some
hint to how she had gotten here -- and how she would
ever get home again.

Of course, most nights, nothing came to her. And this
night was no exception.

Ami knew no more of how and why she was here tonight
than she did any other night. What she did know was
that with each passing day, this place became less and
less strange to her. The halls of the Sun Palace were
now nearly as familiar to her as the streets of
London; the language of Albarasque sounded as common
as English.

But the familiarity came slowly; the first few days
had been an adventure to say the least. 

First had been the great undertaking of the veils.
Until her third day here, when she, Nynie and Sephrine
had ventured beyond the walls of the Sun Palace and
into the city proper, Ami detested the very idea that
she would be made to hide her face, "for modesty's
sake." Her opinion changed very quickly however when
she realized the veils actually served a practical use
- in a desert kingdom like Albarasque, the veils were
a wonderful armor against the windblown sand. Perhaps
that was why the women continued to wear them, and the
custom remained strong even though in her first few
days it became very clear to Ami that this was a
matriarchal society.

Although Ami would admit to enjoying the protection
the veil offered -- trying to understand the different
types of veils -- was quite the undertaking when she
was supposed to already be in possession of said
knowledge. There were three types of veils -- four if
one included the suldan, or the headscarf which
covered the hair completely. The first was the kita,
or the partial veil, usually made of lightweight lace
dyed dark that wrapped around the head and draped the
shoulders, covering only the nose and mouth. The
second, the kitara, was made of the same material as
the kita -- sometimes it was the kita -- only it
covered the entire face, but was light enough that
someone standing close to a woman could make out her
general features.  The fourth, the shoufa, was the
most formal -- and thankfully, the least worn -- of
all the veils. The shoufa was a heavy brocade lace,
sometimes woven with silk and other materials, and
draped over the entire head and shoulders, usually
falling to the ankles; always dark in color, it could
not be seen through and was quite stifling.  The
shoufa was reserved for young, unmarried women,
priestesses, and important formal occasions such as
funerals and worship services.

One minute in the shoufa had been fifty-nine seconds
too long for Ami - and it had quickly made her
decision that she would avoid leaving the grounds at
all if it meant suffering in the shoufa for hours on
end. At least within the Sun Palace, she could wear
only the kita; although Nynie and Sephrine seemed to
prefer the kitara any time when they were not alone in
chambers. And in the privacy of her chambers -- and
within the inner chambers, Ami was permitted to wear
only the suldan. 

Of course, standing on the balcony where anyone could
catch sight of her meant the kitara, but that was a
minor inconvenience. Anything to avoid the shoufa. 

Veils aside, that had not been the only source of her
adventures. The second had been the meeting of her
parents -- and for the first time in a very long time,
Ami actually missed her mother. For the first time
since she could remember, Ami actually wished that the
woman who was the reigning sovereign of Albarasque had
been more like Sharon Jackson. Yes, her mother was
overprotective and overbearing at times, but Ami
understood that her mother's action came from love and
fear. The Damia Reina, the woman who was her mother
here -- or at least Amideira's mother -- was more of a
stranger to her than the servants in the Sun Palace. 

The Damia Reina -- Ami found it hard to call her
"Mother," although it was the title that the woman
preferred -- was a leader and queen in every sense of
the world. She held herself with a regal poise and
grace that Ami truly envied; but she also held her
family -- which included her husband, the Regent, Ami,
and Amideira's brother, Prince Calend'et -- at arm's
length. Ami had seen no love when she looked into the
Damia Reina's eyes; heard no love when the woman said
her name.

That hurt in ways Ami didn't even want to begin to
consider.

It didn't matter that her father was kind and loving,
or that her grandmother let it be known in no
uncertain terms that she cherished her grandchildren,
the rejection by her mother -- correction, Amideira's
mother -- hurt. The woman had shown little interest in
her daughter, or the report that Amideira -- never
Ami, always Amideira -- had taken ill. And she
discussed the upcoming wedding with boredom and
disinterest; more than disinterest really, reproach
was more like it. The Damia Reina wished to have
nothing to do with this wedding and clearly considered
her part in it, which entailed leaving the country for
nearly three months, a colossal waste of time. 

It didn't help matters any that Prince Calend'et
echoed his mother's sentiments and had spent the
entire meal attempting to bait Ami and coerce her into
an argument. The prince, with all of the knowledge and
wisdom of his seventeen years, was more than happy to
repeatedly enlighten his 'sister' on the barbaric
practices of the Stibornians, and to remind her of how
unhappy he was certain she would be away from the Sun
Palace.

Ami required no great leaps in logic to discern that
Amideira and Calend'et did not share the most loving
of sibling relationships. Particularly when it was
apparent that he looked forward to her leaving and to
her marriage - with Amideira married and living in
Stiborn, Calend'et would rule as regent until such
time as Amideira provided a daughter to heir the
throne -- or Calend'et procured a bride that gave him
the same. 

A race to throne for two siblings, but not by clawing
at one another's backs. No, this race was a race for
children, a race for an heir. The Damiar Princess had
a leg up in the race -- after all, she would be
married soon -- but that didn't guarantee an heir.
Particularly if her husband did not appeal to her --
if he was all those things that the Stibornians were
rumored to be.

Instinctively, Ami's hand rose to clutch the pendant
at her throat. It was a thing of beauty, perfectly
shaped and molded. Each time she touched it or looked
at it, it gave her some small measure of peace. If she
was to remain here -- playing a role that she had not
chosen and pretending to be someone that she wasn't --
then it gave her some small comfort to think that the
man who could fashion such a gift was not a rude,
self-centered animal. A gift like this spoke of a soul
and of depth; it spoke of passion and --

Ami snorted, dropping the pendant. Two weeks here and
she was beginning to sound every bit the hopeless
romantic that Sephrine was.

Worse than that, she was beginning to *accept* her
fate.

That couldn't be tolerated.

Action was what she needed; action was what she took
refuge in when she began to feel herself slip into the
casual acceptance of circumstance. In this case,
action took the form of quiet introspection followed
by a gentle tapping into the soft flows of elemental
power that surrounded them. Amideira was supposed to
be a High Mage, and Ami figured that it was only a
matter of time before she would be expected to put
some of that talent to use.

But first, she had to tap into it.

The first time, she had been nervous. Ami didn't know
anything about magic here -- it's rules or anything
else. She questioned Sephrine as covertly as she could
and then set about testing the waters that night in
her bed. The results had been surprising -- she had
felt something burning inside of her, coursing through
her. Raw and untamed, trying to mold her to its whim
while she tried to grasp what it was; pure power like
nothing she had ever encountered. Pure power that
eventually won out against her -- Ami awoke the next
morning to a splitting headache, mild burns on her
hands, and a thirst that she thought could never be
quenched.

If she had wondered if she shared Amideira's ability
to use magic, she wondered no longer.

She also wisely knew that to continue her
'experiments' unchecked would be very stupid and very
dangerous.

Slowly, and with more covert skill than Ami knew she
possessed, she wheedled some basic exercises out of
Sephrine. Those basic exercises were now what she
practiced quietly at night, alone in her room. And so
far, since that first night, Ami had done nothing more
than blow out her candles by accident - she couldn't
even light a fire of her own accord.

But the night was young, and there were still two
weeks before she set sail for Stiborn. Several days
that she would be at sea. There was time to learn
everything that she possibly could - just in case
magic turned out to be the only way she could get out
of this place.

***End of Chapter Eleven 


=====
*********************************************
Worlds Away
http://www.alternate-realities.net/worldsaway
*********************************************

__________________________________________________
Get personalized email addresses from Yahoo! Mail - only $35 
a year!  http://personal.mail.yahoo.com/

-
 To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com"
 with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message.
 For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send
 "help" to the same address.  Do not use quotes in your message.


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

From: Ailie McFarland <aixla@juno.com>
Subject: (arfic-l) Hi! And Fic  1/3
Date: 06 Feb 2001 23:28:01 -0500 (EST)

Hey everybody! I just stumbled across this list while I was looking for a b=
eta reader for my Highlander/Angel crossover ... but that's another story. =
Anyway, I'm happy to be here, and I thought the best way to intro myself wo=
uld be to send a story. I write mostly Buffy fic (Willow/Oz mushy stuff. I'=
m a romantic at heart), but this is an Angel fic. So Hi! And let me know wh=
at you think!


TITLE: Take These Broken Wings 1/3
AUTHOR: Ailie McFarland
E-MAIL: aixla@juno.com
RATING: PG-13 (For suicide theme)
SERIES: Angel
DISTRIBUTION: Alternate realities and anyone who asks. (If it helps at all =
I'm gonna say Yes!)
FEEDBACK: Hello, you've reached Ailie's ego. I'm not in right now, but if y=
ou'd leave me a message about my story I'd greatly appriciate it!
DISCLAIMER: Angel, Cordy and Wesley are property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Ene=
my, FOX, the WB ... basically everybody who's not me.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Shannon is losely based on the experiences I've had in deali=
ng with an anxiety disorder. Writing this was some sort of therapy in a wei=
rd way ....


Chapter 1=20


"Angel Investigations, we help the hopeless," said Cordelia Chase as she pi=
cked up the phone.=20

"Uh, yes," answered a man with a British accent. "Cordelia, I believe you m=
ay have been working too much as of late."=20

"What are you talking about, Wesley?" answered Cordelia a split second befo=
re she realized that she had answered her home phone with her usual diatrib=
e from work. "Great. You see? I've been telling you guys I need a vacation!=
 What if that had been someone important?"=20

"I'm sure you would have handled the situation with your usual grace and co=
mposure." Wesley couldn't help smiling to himself as he pictured the look h=
e knew was on Cordelia's face. "I was just calling to see if you'd be able =
to =85"

"Stop by the library for you on the way to work?"

"Well, yes actually. How did you know?"

"Gee, let me think." Cordelia's tone was condescending. "Ever since you sta=
rted translating the scroll that said Angel would become human you've neede=
d all sorts of weird reference books, and the only time you call me at eigh=
t in the morning is when you're too lazy to come down here to the library a=
nd pick them up yourself." She sighed. "How many?"

"Only three this time. They should have them ready behind the circulation d=
esk." He paused. "If it is too much of an inconvenience I could pick them u=
p myself =85"=20

Cordelia was taken aback by the hurt tone in Wesley's voice. "No, no. I'm s=
orry. Remember the 'new me' I told you about after I got out of the hospita=
l? Well she doesn't get out of bed until I've had my morning coffee." Wesle=
y laughed at that, which made Cordelia feel a little less like a wretch. "T=
he two of us will see you in an hour."=20

Cordelia hung up the phone, but couldn't quite find the energy to pull hers=
elf off the couch. Sighing, she closed her eyes and leaned her head back on=
 the couch. She and Wesley had spent the better part of the night disposing=
 of the demon Angel had killed in the sewers earlier that day. As much as C=
ordelia enjoyed helping people, it didn't quite make up for the lack of sle=
ep =85 or the fact that her favorite sneakers now smelled like a compost he=
ap. The sound of the newscaster announcing the time roused her from her hal=
f-doze, and when she opened her eyes she found a cup of coffee floating in =
front of her.=20

"Thanks Dennis," she mumbled as she took her first sip. "Just the way I lik=
e it. You're getting pretty good at this." Most people would have felt stra=
nge about holding up a one-way conversation, but for Cordelia it seemed to =
come naturally. She chatted with the ghost as she finished her breakfast an=
d got ready for work. Then, after taking one last look in the mirror to che=
ck her hair, she ran out the door. "Bye Dennis!" she called as he closed an=
d locked the door behind her.

* * * * *=20

Wesley Windham Price stood and stretched, his back full of the kinks that c=
ome from perpetually hunching over books and paperwork. With the exception =
of last night's demon, things had been relatively slow for the past few wee=
ks, which had given him the chance to concentrate on translating the scroll=
 Angel had retrieved from Wolfram and Hart. After two weeks of solid resear=
ch, Wesley was beginning to miss the action and excitement of demon hunting=
.=20

"Good morning, Wesley," said Cordelia as she blew threw the door, dropping =
three heavy tomes on the desk. "How come you never need books that are in p=
aperback? These things are heavy!"=20

For a moment the Englishman was at a loss for words. Cordelia was dressed i=
n her usual style; a short khaki skirt with a light blue tank top, dark cur=
ly hair hanging loosely past her shoulders. Just beautiful. Noticing Cordel=
ia's expectant look, he shook himself from his thoughts and replied, "Think=
 of it this way, you've gotten your exercise for the day."=20

"I think I got enough exercise last night to last me for the rest of the we=
ek!" Cordelia rubbed her sore shoulder and smiled. "So, is Angel planning o=
n joining us today?"=20

As if on cue, the door from Angel's office opened. "Morning," he mumbled as=
 he made a beeline for the coffee.=20

"I guess you can't expect a vampire to be a morning person," Cordelia whisp=
ered. Wesley suppressed a giggle.=20

Angel took a sip and turned. "Did you say something?"=20

Cordelia opened her mouth to reply, but instead let out a low moan. "Cordel=
ia!" Angel rushed to the girl's side and caught her just as her knees began=
 to buckle.=20

Cordelia's mind was bombarded by images. A girl, about her age. Red hair, g=
reen eyes, pale skin. Cowering in a dark corner, knees to her chest, rockin=
g and sobbing. Then standing on a ledge, a dark shadow of a face leering be=
hind her as she stepped into nothingness.=20

When she opened her eyes she found herself sitting on the floor, Angel and =
Wesley kneeling beside her. Cordelia blinked to clear her vision, then moti=
oned for Angel to help her to her feet. "We have work to do."=20


Chapter 2=20


"Java Enabled" was your typical cyber-coffee house, if there is such a thin=
g. The lower level was wall-to-wall computers, generally occupied by single=
 men slightly less than middle-aged and slightly more than average weight. =
They would stay all night if they could, playing "Doom," "Half-life," and o=
ther shoot-em up games where the goal seems to be to cause as much carnage =
as possible. Luckily the owner of this particular establishment had shown w=
isdom enough to require the use of headphones, so the only noises from the =
game-players were grunts of satisfaction and the occasional obscenity.=20

The upstairs was decorated in a completely different style from the sparse =
economy of the computer lab. Mismatched chairs and couches were grouped aro=
und tables of all shapes and sizes. In one corner a young couple cuddled on=
 a love seat, more interested in each other than finishing their mochchinos=
. A center table was occupied by two older gentlemen enjoying the "bottomle=
ss cup" special while pondering over a game of chess. And in a darkened cor=
ner Angel, Wesley and Cordelia browsed through a menu.=20

"My goodness," exclaimed Wesley. "Is it possible just to get an ordinary cu=
p of coffee here?"=20

Cordelia smiled. "Not in LA. Here it's all gourmet coffee. That's French fo=
r saying you gotta pay $3.95 a cup."=20

"Can I help you?" Angel looked up into the face of a young waitress. Her fi=
ery hair was pulled away from her face in a long, simple braid, from which =
various curly pieces seemed determined to escape. A warm smile greeted her =
customers, but Angel could see that there was some hidden pain in her emera=
ld eyes.=20

"Yes, Shannon," he said, reading the name tag pinned to her apron. "I'll ju=
st have a coffee. Black."=20

"Same for me," echoed Wesley.=20

Cordelia sighed. "These boys don't know what real coffee is. I'll take a ta=
ll caramel machiato."=20

Shannon smiled again and retrieved the menus from the table, then moved bri=
skly away to deliver them to the newest group of customers.=20

"That the girl?" questioned Angel in a low voice.=20

Cordelia nodded. "So, how do you want to go about this?"=20

"I'm not exactly sure. For now, lets just sit and watch. Maybe she'll give =
us an opening."=20

"To do what? Say 'Hey, my friend here had a vision of you throwing yourself=
 off a building?' Somehow I don't think that would go over too well."=20

Cordelia was interrupted by the return of the waitress with two steaming mu=
gs of coffee. "Sorry ma'am, you're drink might be another minute or two." S=
he offered a small smile in apology. "We've got a new bar monkey tonight, a=
nd he hasn't quite gotten the hang of the equipment yet."

"Bar monkey?" Wesley was confused.=20

"Sorry. That's what we call the guys that run the espresso machine." Shanno=
n pointed to a young man with purple spiked hair who was attempting to clea=
n coffee grinds out of a small filter.=20

"Aah, I see."=20

Shannon turned to tend to another table. "If you need anything else, just h=
oller." When she was out of earshot Wesley turned to Cordelia. "Are you sur=
e you saw her take her own life? She doesn't exactly seem the type."=20

"There is no type for this sort of thing," Angel spoke up. "Every person re=
aches their breaking point at some time in their lives. The question is, wh=
at would push this girl over the edge?"=20

Cordelia thought for a moment. "I did see a face. It wasn't very clear, but=
 it was laughing as she jumped. And it definitely didn't push her, at least=
 not physically."=20

"So it seems we may be dealing with some form of possession then?"=20

Wesley shook his head. "I don't think so. Not if the face Cordelia saw was =
outside of the body."=20

"But their definitely is something supernatural at work here," said Angel. =
"After all, the powers that be don't usually interfere in the lives of mort=
als unless something of that nature is upsetting the balance of things."=20

The three friends discussed the possibilities in hushed tones as they watch=
ed Shannon go about her work. A few minutes later she returned with Cordeli=
a's mug and a pot of coffee. "Anyone need a refill?" Wesley nodded, and as =
the girl leaned over the table Angel noticed a slight tremor in her hand.=
=20

"Are you alright?" he asked, gesturing toward the hand that held the coffee=
 pot.=20

Shannon was startled that he had noticed, and the mask of a smile that she =
wore fell for an instant, revealing behind it a look of complete terror. As=
 quickly as the moment came it was gone. Shannon collected herself and the =
mask went back up. "I'm fine. Just been a long day. Either that or too much=
 free coffee."=20

"Are you sure? I'm actually in the business of helping people." Angel stumb=
led over the words. Fighting demons and preventing an apocalypse was cake c=
ompared to trying to explain exactly what he did for people. The only thing=
 he hated more was talking about money.=20

"What, like a social worker or something? I mean, I don't make a lot of mon=
ey here, but it's enough to get by =85"=20

Angel shook his head. "No, no. It's just =85 well, you look like you might =
be having some problems. Maybe we could help."=20

The mask dropped again. "No, you can't." Shannon was silent for a moment, t=
hen shook herself and plastered on another smile. "Look, I have other custo=
mers I need to see. If you'll excuse me."

"Wait!" Cordelia spoke up. She fished through her purse and came up with a =
business card. "Here. If you change your mind, or just need to talk, give u=
s a call."=20

Shannon took the card with some trepidation, then shoved it into the pocket=
 of her apron without even looking at it. "Thanks," she mumbled as she move=
d on to her next table.=20

"Well that went well," offered Wesley. "Surveillance duty tonight, I take i=
t?"=20

Angel nodded. "I want you two to go back to the office. Start going through=
 old coroner's files and see if you can find any connections between suicid=
e victims over the last few months." His brow furrowed as he watched Shanno=
n scurry from table to table. "I want to make sure she doesn't join them.=
=20


Chapter 3=20


Shannon MacLeod shivered as she walked down the street. Anyone watching her=
 would have assumed the poor girl was freezing, which was highly unlikely a=
s it was a typical muggy summer night. Still, she shivered.=20

Shannon wrapped her arms closer to her chest in an effort to stop the tremo=
rs. No luck. Her mind was focused on one thing - getting home. She told her=
self that once she was there she would be safe. There would be nothing to f=
ear, and her shakes would go away. Her rational mind knew better.=20

The shakes never went away anymore.=20

Flyaway strands of hair fell into her face, but she didn't care. "One, two,=
 three." Her eyes were cast down to her feet so she could count her footste=
ps. She'd do anything these days just to feel normal, to feel sane. But wat=
ching your feet instead of where they're taking you can be a dangerous thin=
g in LA.=20

"Hey lady! Watch where you're going!" Shannon had almost run headlong into =
someone, a businessman from the nature of his attire. He took one look at t=
he girl's darting eyes, hunched over position, and shaking arms and decided=
 to give her a wide berth. Deep in the recesses of Shannon's mind she found=
 it funny that anyone would think she was an addict, but that thought was c=
ompletely buried by so many others. By the doubts, the fears, the worries =
=85 by the Voice.=20

Home. Her feet had carried her there without much conscious direction on he=
r part. Shaking hands struggled to free keys from the pocket of her jeans. =
Once the front door was opened she tore up the stairs to her apartment, as =
if she by pure speed she could leave everything outside the building and fi=
nd some peace. Panting and shaking so violently she was practically convuls=
ing she slammed the door home and threw the deadbolt before crumbling into =
hysterical sobbing on the floor.=20

From a distance Angel watched, and wondered.=20

* * * * *

"There's defiantly something strange going on." Angel deposited his coat on=
 a chair and began to pace.=20

Wesley looked up from the computer screen. "Something strange? I do believe=
 that's our usual motis oporandi."=20

"Well, there's nothing strange here." Cordelia closed a manila file folder =
and added it to the top of a growing stack on the floor. "Plenty of suicide=
s, but no real changes in the number of them or the methods they use." She =
sighed. "I would just like to let everyone know that going through these fi=
les is just about the most depressing thing I've ever done in my life."=20

"Lucky you," Angel said, and then realized his mistake. "I meant that you'r=
e lucky you're not one of the chronically depressed. That you have never fo=
und yourself at the end of your rope and decided to make a noose with it."=
=20

An uncomfortable silence followed. Finally Wesley spoke up. "You're not try=
ing to tell us that you're =85"=20

"Me? No. Not now anyway." Angel sighed and lowered himself into a chair. "T=
here were times, though, after I was cursed. There were so many times I wan=
ted to end it all, but I couldn't do it."=20

"Were you afraid?" Cordelia asked softly.=20

Angel shook his head. "No. I felt I needed to suffer, to atone for my sins.=
 And by taking my own life that suffering would have ended. Life was the wo=
rst torture I could think of, so I lived." He stared off into space, lost i=
n his past. Cordelia wondered if he was thinking of his vampire days or the=
 days that followed, and then decided she didn't want to know.=20

"So," she said. "Did you learn anything that might point us in the right di=
rection?"=20

Angels sighed, relieved to be able to focus on someone other than himself. =
"Not really. I do know where she lives though, which might help eventually.=
 Other than that, all I could tell is that she's really scared of something=
."=20

"Or someone," added Wesley.=20

That comment, meant to be helpful, only reminded Angel of the time when he =
was the one the people had feared. The times when Angelus had prowled the n=
ight, searching and killing. Without a word he stood, walked into his offic=
e, and closed the door quickly and hard enough to let the others know he di=
dn't want to be disturbed.=20

"Wow. Even broodier than usual," commented Cordelia. "Should we do somethin=
g?"=20

"The best thing we can do for him is to help this girl." He motioned to the=
 piles of paper strewn across the room, and they began their search again.=
=20

* * * * *

Evening found Angel back at "Java Enabled." He wasn't exactly sure what he =
hoped to accomplish. In fact, he didn't even know if Shannon was working th=
at night. All he knew was that at the moment he felt completely powerless, =
and sitting around the office dwelling on his past wasn't going to help.=20

As luck would have it, Shannon was there. She was halfway through her "Welc=
ome to 'Java Enabled'" speech when she recognized him.=20

"Same as last night?" she said, hoping he wouldn't notice the slight tremor=
 in her voice. Angel nodded, and she disappeared around the corner. A momen=
t later she appeared with a fresh pot of coffee and a mug. "Look. We're pre=
tty busy tonight, so if you don't need anything else I'll just let you do y=
our own refills." She began to turn around when she felt a hand brush hers.=
=20

"I know there's something wrong."=20

Shannon backed away. "I already told you. There's nothing you can do. Just =
leave me alone."=20

Angel stood. He knew all eyes in the restaurant were on him, but nothing ma=
ttered now more than this girl's life. "I know how you feel, Shannon. I've =
been there. I've stood on that cliff and contemplated the jump." There were=
 tears welling up in Shannon's green eyes, but Angel couldn't stop now. "I =
know you feel like there's no way out, but there is. Someone once pulled me=
 back from that edge once. Please, let me help you!"=20

Shannon turned to run, but tripped over a chair in the process. She scrambl=
ed to her feet and half-ran half-crawled her way to the kitchen. Angel foun=
d her curled up in a corner, shaking violently and rocking back and forth. =
"Shannon =85"=20

"Don't touch me!" The girl's startled scream brought both the cook and the =
bar monkey down on Angel's back. Freeing himself without seriously injuring=
 either man took some effort, and by the time he made it to the sidewalk ou=
tside Shannon was long gone.=20


To be continued ...

***************
Ailie McFarland
***************

WILLOW: Well, I like you. You're nice and you're funny. And you
don't smoke. Yeah, okay, werewolf, but that's not all the time. I
mean, three days out of the month I'm not much fun to be around either.
OZ: You are quite the human.
WILLOW: So I'd still, if you'd still.
OZ: I'd still. I'd *very* still.

OZ: Would it help you if I panic?
WILLOW: Yes, it'd be swell. Panic is a thing people can share in
times of crisis, and everything's really scary now, you know, and I
don't know what's going to happen and there is all sorts of things
you're supposed to get to do after high school and I was really
looking forward to doing them and now we're probably just going to
die and I'd like to feel you maybe you would ... (Oz shuts her up
with a kiss) What are you doing?
OZ: Panicing.

WILLOW: Oz...don't you love me?
OZ: My whole life, I've never loved anything else.


-
 To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com"
 with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message.
 For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send
 "help" to the same address.  Do not use quotes in your message.


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

From: Ailie McFarland <aixla@juno.com>
Subject: (arfic-l) Hi! and Fic 2/3
Date: 06 Feb 2001 23:46:08 -0500 (EST)

TITLE: Take These Broken Wings 2/3
AUTHOR: Ailie McFarland
E-MAIL: aixla@juno.com
RATING: PG-13 (For suicide theme)
SERIES: Angel
DISTRIBUTION: Alternate realities and anyone who asks. (If it helps at all =
I'm gonna say Yes!)
FEEDBACK: Hello, you've reached Ailie's ego. I'm not in right now, but if y=
ou'd leave me a
message about my story I'd greatly appriciate it!

DISCLAIMER: Angel, Cordy and Wesley are property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Ene=
my, FOX, the WB
... basically everybody who's not me.


Chapter 4=20


Angel sighed. The conversation at the coffee shop had not gone exactly acco=
rding to plan. In fact, it was about as far from his plan as you could get!=
 He knew there was something he could do, that he was supposed to do =85 th=
e Powers that Be wouldn't bother warning him unless this was the case. But =
at the moment he was completely at a loss. How do you help someone who does=
n't want to be helped?=20

A quiet rap on the car window startled Angel from his thoughts. He opened t=
he door and greeted Cordelia with a nod. "Glad you're here," he said quietl=
y. "Sun's coming up soon."=20

A few months ago Cordelia would have made a comment about needing her beaut=
y sleep, but today she just offered a small, sad smile. "Any change?"=20

Angel looked to the apartment building and shook his head. "No. The lights =
were on all night, but I haven't seen any movement in the window. You're su=
re this isn't the building you saw her jump off of?"=20

"Yes," she answered. "The building in the vision was much taller."=20

"Good. Then as long as she doesn't leave the apartment she'll be safe." He =
handed his cell phone to her. "Call me if anything happens."=20

Cordelia settled herself into Angel's car for what she expected would be qu=
ite a long day. Angel took one last look toward Shannon's window, then disa=
ppeared into the sewer.=20

* * * * *

"This is useless!" Angel slammed the book closed and lowered his head into =
his hands.=20

Concerned, Wesley walked over to the vampire, and after a moment's consider=
ation placed a hand on his shoulder. "For now there's nothing we can do but=
 research. We will find something."=20

"We're not going to find anything in time this way," Angel mumbled into the=
 desk as he ran his fingers through his hair. "There are too many unanswere=
d questions. I have to figure out a way to get her to talk to me. But after=
 the scene I caused last night, I don't think there's a chance of that."=20

Wesley thought for a moment. "Perhaps we should let Cordelia make contact w=
ith the girl. After all, she is more likely to talk with another female tha=
n with a strange man."=20

"Good point. But how? Cordelia says she hasn't left her apartment all day, =
so she obviously isn't going to go to work. Will she really answer the door=
 if Cordy goes up there?"=20

"We'll never know unless we try." Wesley was about to continue when the pho=
ne rang. Since Angel made no move to answer it, the former watcher did. "An=
gel Investigations. We hope you're helpless =85 I mean =85 blast it! I'm so=
rry, I don't usually answer the phone. Can I help you?" There was a pause. =
"Yes, of course. Right away."=20

"Who was that?" asked Angel as Wesley set the phone back on the hook.=20

"Shannon," he said with some surprise. "She wants to see you at her apartme=
nt as soon as possible.=20


Chapter 5=20


The door opened a crack in response to Angel's knock. "Hi," he said softly =
to the single green eye that was peering through the crack. The door closed=
, and Angel could hear the sound of a chain lock being undone. Ever so slow=
ly, it swung open again.=20

Angel hoped Shannon didn't notice his surprise at her appearance. She seeme=
d to have aged years in the twenty-four hours since he had last seen her. H=
er eyes darted nervously between Angel's face and the floor. Underneath wer=
e dark circles that betrayed several nights of sleeplessness; they must hav=
e been covered with make-up the day before. Long tendrils of red, tangled h=
air fell across her face, swinging back and forth in front of her eyes as h=
er entire body trembled.=20

Angel's first impulse was to wrap the poor girl into his arms, but an invis=
ible barrier still stood between them. "Is it okay if I come in?" Shannon n=
odded, and Angel stepped over the threshold.=20

She cleared her throat. "Please, sit. Would you like some tea?" There was a=
 small quaver in her voice, but she attempted to smile as Angel found a sea=
t.=20

The apartment was small and sparsely furnished, but very homey. A small cou=
ch that folded out into a bed at night was pushed against one wall, facing =
not the TV but across the room to a large picture window instead. Scattered=
 around the room were various objects that betrayed Shannon's true calling.=
 A violin case and music stand in one corner, an electric keyboard in anoth=
er. Scattered across the coffee table were various manuscripts of violin wo=
rks. Bach, Bruch, Mendelssohn =85 names Angel hadn't heard in a long time. =
The far wall was completely covered with shelves of books and cds, all of w=
hich were classical, Angel rightly assumed.=20

Shannon entered the room with two steaming mugs and sat in the small chair =
that served as a piano bench.=20

"So," said Angel as he held the mug in his cold hands. "Are you a violinist=
?"=20

Shannon's face grew even more drawn. "I used to be."=20

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ..."=20

"No, it was a reasonable question." She paused. "It's just hard to explain =
without starting at the beginning." Angel said nothing, just waited for her=
 to continue.=20

"I've played the violin all my life, or at least as long as I can remember.=
 For some reason I started begging my parents for one when I was barely abl=
e to talk." Shannon smiled and for the first time Angel saw a light behind =
her green eyes. "They thought it was something I would forget the next day,=
 but after two years of pleading I finally started lessons. To make a long =
story short, after college I ended landing a job in a small orchestra here =
in LA. It was a few months after I moved that I noticed something was wrong=
."=20

"During rehearsal one day, my hands started to shake. I thought it was hung=
er, or lack of sleep, or something, but it didn't go away. Then the whole r=
oom started to spin. I couldn't breathe. My heart was pounding so hard I wa=
s sure I would have a heart attack and die right there on stage. The whole =
experience shook me up pretty badly, but I didn't want to lose my job, so I=
 stayed. But it happened the next week, and the week after that. Each time =
the attacks got stronger, and the time between them shortened. Eventually i=
t started to affect my playing, and I took an indefinite leave of absence."=
=20

"That was almost two years ago."=20

"The doctor's call it 'Panic Attack Disorder.' Basically all my body goes i=
nto a fear reaction for no reason. It's terrible. You feel like you're abou=
t to die. Even though there's that little part of your brain that knows it'=
s an illness, the rest of your brain just goes nuts, and you can't listen t=
o that rational side. It's a completely physical illness; a brain chemical =
imbalance that's treatable with medication but not curable. But I've tried =
every medication that's out there, and none of them seem to work for me."=
=20

"I got a job at the cyber-caf=E9 to make ends meet. Half the people there a=
re stoned or so involved in their games that they don't really notice me, w=
hich is fine. But the attacks are coming so frequently now that I don't thi=
nk I'll even be able to hold down that job."=20

Until now, Shannon had managed to stay calm while telling her story. Angel =
figured this was due to detachment on her part. It was almost as if she was=
 talking about someone else. At this point, the tears began. "I can't play =
anymore. I haven't touched my instrument in 6 months. My hands shake so bad=
ly I can't keep my bow in a straight line. And there are these voices in my=
 head. They say I'm a failure, that I can't do anything right, and whenever=
 I try to play they just get louder!"=20

Angel couldn't stand it anymore. He moved from the couch to kneel beside Sh=
annon, and he held the girl in his arms as she wept.=20

* * * * *

"Thanks for letting me stay with you, Cordelia."=20

After much discussion, it was decided that it wasn't safe for Shannon to be=
 alone. Cordelia was always happy to share her spacious apartment, and had =
earlier warned Dennis sternly not to upset their guest. "She already feels =
like she's going crazy. Seeing things fly across the room isn't going to he=
lp!"=20

Cordelia smiled. "It's no trouble. Why don't you take my room? I can sleep =
on the sofa-bed." Shannon started to protest, but Cordelia cut her off. "No=
t gonna take no for an answer."=20

"She's not usually this gracious. I'd take her up on the offer."=20

Angel's comment drew a dirty look from Cordelia. "You're still mad about th=
at whole 'peanut butter in your bed' thing, aren't you?" She laughed at the=
 puzzled look on Shannon's face. "Oh, it's not what you think. I just neede=
d a place to crash one night. Apparently I made a little mess."=20

"Little? There was a huge glop in the middle of my pillow!"=20

The argument was interrupted by something quite unexpected; Shannon laughin=
g. "I can't thank you both enough. It's been a long time since I've felt th=
is =85 safe."=20

"That's why we're here," Angel said softly. "Now, get some sleep. We'll tal=
k more in the morning."=20

"Talk about what? I mean, I'm still not sure what you plan on doing for me.=
"=20

"Well, if medication isn't working, it must not be a medical problem. We ne=
ed to figure out what's causing this."=20

Shannon was confused by Angel's somewhat cryptic remark, and was about to s=
tart questioning him when Cordelia took her by the hand. "Plenty of time fo=
r that tomorrow. For now, sleep." She turned down the covers.=20

Despite the fact that her mind was full of questions, Shannon was half asle=
ep as soon as her head touched the pillow. As she slipped into unconsciousn=
ess, she thought she felt a phantom presence tucking her in for the night.=
=20


Chapter 6=20


Shannon slowly stretched and opened her eyes. Light from the bedroom window=
 spilled across the floor. Something about this situation was odd, but it t=
ook Shannon's sleep-muddled brain a moment to figure out what it was =85 sh=
e hadn't slept through the night in over a year. Cold sweats and shakes usu=
ally woke her at least once during the night, if she managed to sleep at al=
l.=20

She closed her eyes again for a moment, enjoying that wonderful feeling tha=
t always accompanies sleeping until your body wakes itself up. When she ope=
ned them again she noticed a mug sitting on the bed stand. Coffee, still ho=
t. Cordelia must have gotten up already. Shannon experienced her second unu=
sual sensation for the day; her facial muscles formed a genuine smile. It h=
ad been a long time since anyone had bothered to do something like this for=
 her.=20

Shannon padded into the hallway. After taking a sip of coffee, she decided =
to head to the kitchen to find some milk.=20

* * * * *

Cordelia was cold. Freezing, actually. She shivered and tried to pull the c=
overs up to her shoulders, only to discover that they had been completely p=
ulled off the couch. Before she had a chance to wonder what kind of violent=
 dream she had during the night, the couch started to shake.=20

"Dennis, this is not funny!" She retrieved the pile of covers from the floo=
r and attempted to climb back onto the couch when it started spinning in ci=
rcles. "Stop it! I'm going back to bed." The couch continued to spin, and f=
inally tipped over.=20

Cordelia felt a presence behind her, and suddenly she was being pushed towa=
rds the kitchen. She dropped the blankets in a heap. "Dennis, what's going =
on? You're scaring me!" Then she saw what Dennis had seen.=20

Shannon was lying on the floor in front of the open refrigerator. Coffee fr=
om a broken mug pooled around her convulsing body. "Oh God!" Cordelia acros=
s the room and knelt down to cradle the girl's head on her lap.=20

"Dennis! Bring me the phone!" Cordelia started to dial 911.=20

"No hospital," Shannon gasped. "They can't =85 do anything but =85 sedate m=
e =85 just stay." It took great effort to form coherent sentences. She refo=
cused her energy on regaining control of her body.=20

After a moment's thought, Cordelia dialed the number for Angel Investigatio=
ns.=20

* * * * *

By the time Angel and Wesley arrived, the worst of the attack was over. Sha=
nnon was still trembling, but her heart was beginning to return to normal a=
nd Cordelia had managed to help her to the couch. Wesley offered a smile of=
 greeting and then joined Cordelia in the kitchen. Angel's brow furrowed in=
 concern as he took a seat.=20

"How are you doing?" he asked quietly.=20

Shannon sighed. "As well as can be expected." Her tremors grew more violent=
. Angel leapt to his feet, but she shook her head and closed her eyes. A fe=
w seconds later the spasms returned to a normal level. "Sad that I think of=
 this as normal," she thought.=20

"Are they usually this bad?"=20

"Not until a few weeks ago. I went back to the doctor, but of course they c=
ouldn't do anything." Cordelia entered the room, with Wesley following clos=
e behind. He offered a cup of chamomile tea, which Shannon gratefully accep=
ted. The weight of the heavy ceramic mug helped to steady her hands a littl=
e, and the warmth was comforting.=20

After a moment of silence, she spoke again. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have ca=
lled you yesterday. I don't know what I thought you could do."=20

Cordelia sat down and wrapped a protective arm around Shannon's frail frame=
. "We'll find a way to help you."=20

"How? I've been to all the doctors already."=20

"We specialize in =85 unique situations," said Wesley.=20

Shannon gave Angel a questioning look. He took a deep breath. "Well, there =
are times when conventional methods can't solve a person's problems. We lik=
e to take an alternative approach."=20

"What, like aromatherapy or something?" Shannon was growing more and more c=
onfused.=20

Wesley smiled. "Not exactly."=20

"All I can really say right now is that your problem isn't strictly medical=
." Angel sighed. "But we're working hard to find out what's causing this. C=
an you live with that for now?" Shannon nodded.=20

"I guess that's our cue to hit the books." Cordelia playfully punched Wesle=
y in the arm. "Come on, bookman."=20

Angel looked to Shannon. "I don't want to leave you alone. Are you up to tr=
aveling? It's not very far to our office."=20

"I think so." Shannon started to stand up, but vertigo forced her back to t=
he couch. When she was sure she wasn't going to be sick, she opened her eye=
s and saw Angel extend a hand to help. When her hand was in his she was sur=
prised by the coolness of his skin, and the ease with which he supported he=
r weight.=20

"Wesley and Cordelia will get you back to the car. I'll meet you at the off=
ice. I need to =85" his mind spun as he looked for an excuse. He couldn't w=
alk Shannon back to the car without bursting into flames.=20

Cordelia was quick on her feet. "Stop by the library. It's right down the s=
treet. Wesley's been doing some research, and one of the book's he needs sh=
ould be in today.=20

Angel sighed in relief as Shannon nodded and Wesley took his place under he=
r arm. "I owe you one," he mumbled to Cordelia under his breath.=20

"Actually, you owe me three, but who's counting?" she flashed a movie star =
smile, slipped her sunglasses onto her nose and headed out the door.=20

Angel waited until the car pulled around the corner, then made a dash for t=
he sewer entrance near the apartment.


Chapter 7=20


Music drew Angel down from his office. Shannon was sitting in the middle of=
 the floor with her eyes closed, swaying ever so slightly. From the speaker=
s came the voice of a solo violin.=20

A minor chord echoed between the walls, and Angel closed his eyes in the sh=
eer beauty of it. As a young man his tastes for music ran towards tunes tha=
t could be danced to and songs with dirty lyrics. Growing older, after his =
transformation, his tastes changed as well. Many a night Angelus would snea=
k into the concert halls to create the proper mood for the evening's festiv=
ities. The dark and devilish tunes of Paganini always made the blood boil i=
n his veins, and often a stagehand or two would feel his deadly kiss before=
 the piece had ended.=20

But this was not Paganini. These sad and sensuous strains could only be the=
 work of Johann Sebastian Bach.=20

Shannon seemed to feed off the music. Angel could almost swear he saw her g=
rowing in strength and presence as she absorbed the sounds around her. Afte=
r a moment's observation, he also noticed that the fingers of her left hand=
 were making small movements, as if playing an imaginary violin on her lap.=
=20

As the final E octave dissolved into nothingness Angel gave a polite little=
 cough, so as not to startle to poor girl with his unexpected presence.=20

Shannon opened her eyes. "Angel? Oh, I'm sorry. Did I turn the volume up to=
o high?"=20

"No. Not at all." He had trouble finding the words. "Sonata in A minor?"=20

She nodded. "The 'Grave.' You know music?"=20

"A little. I don't have the chance to listen much these days."=20

"Perlman is the violinist. He's my hero. When I think of all he had to over=
come in his life ... the polio left him barely able to walk, and now he is =
one of the greatest musicians who ever lived! And his playing has such soul=
." Tears began to well up in her deep green eyes.=20

Angel sat across from the girl. "His playing has soul because of his life, =
and all the experiences in it. Believe me, I've heard the prodigies, the on=
e's who don't know anything but music, they're robots." He extended a hand =
to touch hers. "You will play again, and be the better for all this. I prom=
ise."=20

"I hope so," came the soft reply. "Bach is like that, you know. The 'Grave'=
 is in minor, which everyone assumes means sad. And it is, but it's also wo=
nderful. It rips your heart out with the pure emotion of it, the sadness an=
d the beauty together like that."=20

Angel was about to reply when he heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs=
. Cordelia was standing there. "Wesley needs to see you, Angel."=20

* * * * *

"I think I may have a lead," said the Englishman as Angel approached the de=
sk. Wesley flipped through one of the many leather-bound books and pointed =
to an entry. "This volume makes reference to the suicide of a watcher. From=
 the diaries left behind, the council determined he had been killed by a Cu=
ra demon."=20

"Killed?" said Cordelia. "But I thought you said he killed himself."=20

"Cura demons are in interesting lot. They feed off human emotions, but do n=
ot physically inhabit the host. Instead they trail them, follow them like a=
 shadow for years. Cura's are telepaths, and have the ability to influence =
the mind. So the demon creates horrible images in the mind of the victim =
=85"=20

"And feeds off the fear." The pieces were beginning to click together for A=
ngel. "So these past two years she's been followed by a demon. Why is it ge=
tting worse now?"=20

Wesley sighed. "Cura's don't have to kill their prey to feed, but after a f=
ew years they tend to get bored. Driving a person to harm themselves is a f=
orm of entertainment."=20

"Why couldn't they get cable like everybody else?" Cordelia frowned. "Okay,=
 so now we know what the big bad is. How do we stop it?"=20

"That's slightly more complicated. The story of the watcher mentions a spel=
l for warding off the demon, but doesn't include the text. This is going to=
 take more research." Wesley would have continued, but a voice from behind =
caught him off guard.=20

"Well then you better show us what to look for," announced Shannon from the=
 doorway.=20

* * * * *

"Are you sure you shouldn't be resting?" Angel was concerned. Wesley and Co=
rdelia were used to these all-night research sessions, but Shannon was not,=
 and was also not in the best of health. Besides, the revelations this nigh=
t had wrought were probably a great shock to her system.=20

"I'm not going to be able to sleep anyway. I feel better doing something." =
She turned a few more pages then stopped, and looked to Angel. "This is rea=
lly real, right?"=20

He smiled. "Unfortunately."=20

Shannon laughed quietly. "When you said you helped people in 'unusual circu=
mstances' I thought a lot of things, but I never thought this. I mean, how =
does one get into this line of work anyway?"=20

Angel thought for a moment. "Cordy and Wesley, they're just good people. Th=
ey see the danger and they want to help. I have =85 my own reasons." Shanno=
n looked concerned at this. "Let's just say that I haven't always led the b=
est life. I need to give something back."=20

"I see." Shannon stood at the point of indecision for a moment, unsure as t=
o whether she should push any further. "I don't =85 I don't suppose that ha=
s anything to do with the jars in your refrigerator?" She hurried on before=
 Angel had a chance to interrupt. "I mean, I wasn't snooping or anything. I=
 needed water to take my meds, not that they do any good, and they were jus=
t there. I was coming up to ask when I walked in on the whole demon deal. P=
retty much explained things for me."=20

"I won't ... I won't hurt you, you know," Angel managed to stammer.=20

"I know. I won't say I'm entirely comfortable with all this, but I think I =
understand. Either that, or I've finally gone off the deep end. C'mon," she=
 said, resting a hand on the stack of books between them. "Let's find out h=
ow to kill this thing."=20


To be continued ...

***************
Ailie McFarland
***************

WILLOW: Well, I like you. You're nice and you're funny. And you
don't smoke. Yeah, okay, werewolf, but that's not all the time. I
mean, three days out of the month I'm not much fun to be around either.
OZ: You are quite the human.
WILLOW: So I'd still, if you'd still.
OZ: I'd still. I'd *very* still.

OZ: Would it help you if I panic?
WILLOW: Yes, it'd be swell. Panic is a thing people can share in
times of crisis, and everything's really scary now, you know, and I
don't know what's going to happen and there is all sorts of things
you're supposed to get to do after high school and I was really
looking forward to doing them and now we're probably just going to
die and I'd like to feel you maybe you would ... (Oz shuts her up
with a kiss) What are you doing?
OZ: Panicing.

WILLOW: Oz...don't you love me?
OZ: My whole life, I've never loved anything else.


-
 To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com"
 with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message.
 For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send
 "help" to the same address.  Do not use quotes in your message.


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

From: Ailie McFarland <aixla@juno.com>
Subject: (arfic-l) Hi! and Fic 3/3
Date: 06 Feb 2001 23:52:29 -0500 (EST)

TITLE: Take These Broken Wings 3/3
AUTHOR: Ailie McFarland
E-MAIL: aixla@juno.com
RATING: PG-13 (For suicide theme)
SERIES: Angel
DISTRIBUTION: Alternate realities and anyone who asks. (If it helps at all I'm gonna say Yes!)
FEEDBACK: Hello, you've reached Ailie's ego. I'm not in right now, but if you'd leave me a
message about my story I'd greatly appriciate it!

DISCLAIMER: Angel, Cordy and Wesley are property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, FOX, the WB
... basically everybody who's not me.


Chapter 8


"Shannon," a cool hand fell on the girl's shoulder, startling her from a light doze. She turned to find Angel standing behind her chair. "Why don't you go ahead downstairs and get some rest. You're not going to be able to help if you're exhausted." 

Shannon nodded wearily in agreement. "Alright. I just want to finish this page first. This chapter seemed like it might be more helpful than the rest." She gestured toward the growing pile of books at her feet. 

Angel attempted to scowl disapprovingly, but couldn't help but to smile. A full night's research hadn't brought them any new information, still, Shannon refused to be discouraged. Dark circles still ringed her eyes, but there was something there Angel hadn't seen before - hope. 

An icicle of a chill ran up Shannon's spine. She shivered involuntarily. 

"Are you okay?" 

Shannon shook her head as if to clear it. "I think so. Maybe I should let you finish this, though." As she stood, the ground suddenly seemed to shift under her feet. The room spun violently, and she reached out to the desk for support. 

"Shannon!" Angel's voice traveled to her through a tunnel, almost obscured completely by the sound of a scream which she vaguely realized was hers. The cry died with an abrupt, strangling sound as a wave of muscle spasms wracked her body. She was aware of being lifted, felt strong arms wrap around her in an attempt to keep her from hurting herself or someone else. Green eyes met Angel's brown, and she saw there fear and helplessness. His lips formed words she couldn't hear. 

"Wesley! Cordelia!" Angel held the trembling girl in his arms. "Hold on, Shannon. Just hold on." 

Shannon focused in on Angel's eyes. She couldn't hear, couldn't move, but as long as she could stay keep her eyes focused into this world she might stay sane. A second attack of convulsions struck, more powerful than the first. Her eyes closed as she fought against the pain. When she opened them again, the world had gone black. 

A low moan gurgled up from her throat, accompanied by dark laughter in the distance. Then the lights came on again, and Shannon found herself trapped in a land of eternal nightmares. 

* * * * *

Wesley shook his head as he removed the stethoscope from his ears. "Her heart is racing so fast I can barely count the pulse, and her breathing is extremely shallow. I'm not sure how much more of this she can survive in her weakened condition." He looked back to the frail form lying on Angel's bed, trembling under the covers. 

"He's laughing at us, Wesley. He's right here in this room, killing her right in front of us. And we can't do anything to stop him!" Angel's fist struck the brick wall hard enough to make a sizable dent. 

"Easy there." Wesley touched him on the shoulder, but the vampire shook him off. When Angel turned, his face was contorted into the feral image of the demon inside him. "This is exactly the reaction the cura demon is hoping for. You can't let him get to you." 

"We're not dealing with some schoolyard bully here," Angel retorted. "Ignoring him won't make him go away!" 

"And that is why it is imperative that we keep level heads through this. We can't out-fight this one, Angel. We have to out-think it." Wesley breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Angel relax and the vampiric features fall from his face. He had seen Angel's "game face" several times in the past, but it never ceased to unnerve him. 

"Good point. We have to think the way it thinks." Angel began to pace about the room. "Shannon's been here all day, but this is the first time its attacked. Why?" 

"The cura is an extremely malicious creature. They enjoy participating in the pain and torment of others. Perhaps it wanted to give her a chance to find a bit of hope before it destroyed her." 

"Maybe," Angel didn't sound convinced. "But still there's the question of timing. Why that particular moment? Why not strike when she was alone? The demon wouldn't want us around to help her, and we were all together up there doing ..." 

"Research," Wesley finished. 

"We were getting too close to something." Angel strode toward the stairs. 

"And once again, I'm two steps ahead of you guys." Cordelia's voice echoed down the stairwell. When she reached the bottom she handed the volume she was carrying to Wesley. "Shannon was on page 213. Check out what you find when you turn the page." 

Wesley flipped through the musty pages. "Here we are ... Exorcism of the Cura. We need to create a circle of protection with fire, water, air and earth. Quite standard, actually. Burning of moss herbs and twice blessed sage ... Oh dear." 

"What? What's wrong?" Angel's voice was full of urgency. 

"Well, the spell is fairly simple, and I can perform most of it." Wesley closed the book and walked to Shannon's side, taking her trembling hand in his. "But the incantation must be spoken by the cura's intended victim." 


Chapter 9


"Cordelia, are you sure you want to do this?"

"For the last time Wesley, yes!" Cordelia said with determination. "First off, you're the one working the spell. If something goes wrong you need to be conscious and able to fix it. Secondly, there's a chance the spell could work some nasty mojo on Angel's curse, and that's the last thing we need." She paused to see if anyone would argue with her. "Good. That's settled. Now, lets go over this one more time, from the top."

Wesley was uncomfortable with the situation, but there appeared to be no other solution. "Right then. You and Shannon will sit here on the floor, and I shall begin the spell. When my preparations are complete I will signal to you, and you will read the chant I have written down for you."

Cordelia accepted the sheet of paper Wesley offered her. "And that'll create a bond so that Shannon can suck up my energy?"

"Not exactly. She doesn't ... suck anything. It's hard to explain, but basically it's a merging of life forces. You each share with the other. Theoretically she should gain enough strength from you to complete the spell and vanquish the demon. But ..."

"But since we're sharing each other's energy it probably won't be that pleasant for me." Cordelia said softly.

"And this is all just a theory." Wesley looked at the floor. "It might not work, and I'm afraid that if this backfires you may fall prey to the Cura as well." A moment of complete silence followed. Wesley broke the awkward tension by continuing. "Now, it is imperative that you remain in physical contact with Shannon at all times. The bond we are creating is not entirely stable, and any loss of connection will probably kill you both."

Angel had been standing in the corner of the room for quite some time, sometimes watching Cordelia and Wesley, sometimes the waif of a girl dying on his bed. "Cordelia," he finally spoke up, startling both his companions. "You don't have to do this."

"Yes I do." She crossed the room to look up into his face. "I've watched you give of yourself time and time again. You never hesitate to risk your life to save someone else's. I've lived my whole life thinking of no one but me, myself, and I. It's my turn now."

Angel frowned, but looked at Cordelia with newfound respect. In over 200 years, he had never seen anyone make this kind of character transformation in such a short time. He nodded his assent.

"Okay, good." She turned back to Wesley. "Let's get this over with before I come to my senses and change my mind.

* * * * *

The room was still as death. Angel had pushed his bed into the far corner to allow Wesley room to work. Cordelia sat in the middle of the floor, with four unlit candles marking the directional points surrounding her. Shannon's head lay cradled on her lap.

Wesley consulted his book one last time, then moved to the candle positioned directly in front of Cordelia. A nod from the girl to show she was ready, a look to his employer standing in the corner for strength and support, and he began.

"Hail to the Guardians of the Watchtowers of the East,
Power of Air!
We implore thee, grant us thy protection."

Wesley bent to retrieve a small bundle of herbs at his feet. After lighting them he walked slowly around the circle, creating a ring of smoke that hung eerily in the air instead of dissipating. Returning the herbs, he continued to the next point.

"Hail to the Guardians of the Watchtowers of the South,
Power of Fire!
We implore thee, grant us thy protection."

On this trip around the circle the Englishman stopped to light the candles he had positioned earlier. He continued in this manner, calling on the Guardians of the West and sprinkling water around the circle, then the Guardians of the North and creating a ring of soil. Finally, he returned to the point at which he began. Wesley made eye contact with Cordelia and spoke.

"The circle is cast. Witness these rites done in your honor, and keep your children safe from harm."

Cordelia gasped as the flickering light of the candles suddenly burst into flames several feet high, then returned to a normal dim glow. She closed her eyes to collect herself "C'mon Cordelia, lets pull ourselves together here." With that final mental affirmation, she grasped Shannon's limp hands in hers.

"With perfect love and perfect trust
And with motives pure and just
I join my sister soul and heart
And my life to her impart."

Cordelia felt a rush of warmth move from her chest through her hands, creating an emptiness inside so great she feared her body would collapse in on itself. Almost as quickly as the void formed it was gone, filled with a bone numbing chill. For an instant Cordelia saw Shannon's private hell, and screamed. 

Wesley leapt to his feet to restrain Angel as he rushed forward. "No! You can't break the circle once it's been cast or we'll lose them both!"

Slowly, the spell's energy began to equal itself. The pain and fear became less and less consuming, until Cordelia was able to find strength to open her eyes.

Green eyes locked on hers, and the two girls rose as a unit. Shannon seemed to instinctively realize what was going on around her as she dropped Cordelia's left hand to reach for the book on the floor. She began the incantation in a quavering voice.

"I call out the demon that plagues me. The one who invades my mind and shreds my soul. You who believe that you hold everything over me, when in truth you have none."

Shannon's voice grew stronger with each word, and the flames of the candles grew with her intensity. A disturbance not unlike a small storm erupted in the room, scattering papers and debris. Shannon's raised her voice to a shout.

"Power of self I hold over you!
Power of the soul which has been denied you!
Power of marrow and bone to give me strength!
Power of flesh and blood to anchor me in this world
You have no support or anchor."

Winds raged and candles flamed higher. Shannon closed her eyes and screamed at the top of her lungs.

"You are cast from this mortal plane forever!"

A flash of light, an inhuman scream, and it was over. As the winds died and the candles extinguished themselves, Cordelia and Shannon collapsed into an exhausted heap on the floor.


Chapter 10


The concert hall teemed with people. Angel managed to step on more than a fair share of toes before he gratefully slid down into his seat.

"Not quite as stealthy as we used to be, are we?" quipped the woman beside him.

"One of the disadvantages of being human," he replied with a sigh. "Although I do believe the various advantages might just outweigh the negatives."

Buffy rewarded him with an innocent look. "You wouldn't happen to be referring to one benefit in particular, would you?"

"You'd better believe it!" he laughed as he put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.

They had the best seats in the house; orchestra section, center, 8 rows back. To Buffy's right Cordelia and Wesley. They were engaged in their own private conversation, probably discussing arrangements for their upcoming wedding.

"So, is this girl any good?" asked Buffy.

"She is. Her music has such soul." He smiled to himself as he remembered the conversation that took place in his apartment almost five years previous. 

Buffy heard the thoughtful tone in his voice and was about to question him further when the lights began to dim.

Shannon MacLeod stepped from between the curtains with perfect grace and composure, acknowledging the thunderous applause from the crowd before approaching the microphone set center stage. "Good evening. I'd like to thank you all for coming, and offer a word of explanation about the first piece on the program. Many people speak of Angels. Sometimes they mean heavenly creatures sent from God, sometimes men who go above and beyond the call of duty." She paused to find Angel's face in the crowd. "Several years ago I met my own guardian angel. He helped me to win back my life, and this piece means something special to both of us. For you, Angel."

With that she settled the violin under her chin and began to play.

The familiar opening strains of the "Grave" from Bach's Sonata in A minor echoed from wood and strings. The notes Bach heard in his head as he wrote could not have been sweeter than this. Shannon played as she had never played before, throwing every ounce of emotion, every experience, every memory into the phrasing and shaping of sound. 

Angel closed his eyes and let himself be carried away as the music found it's own wings, and began to soar.


FIN

***************
Ailie McFarland
***************

WILLOW: Well, I like you. You're nice and you're funny. And you
don't smoke. Yeah, okay, werewolf, but that's not all the time. I
mean, three days out of the month I'm not much fun to be around either.
OZ: You are quite the human.
WILLOW: So I'd still, if you'd still.
OZ: I'd still. I'd *very* still.

OZ: Would it help you if I panic?
WILLOW: Yes, it'd be swell. Panic is a thing people can share in
times of crisis, and everything's really scary now, you know, and I
don't know what's going to happen and there is all sorts of things
you're supposed to get to do after high school and I was really
looking forward to doing them and now we're probably just going to
die and I'd like to feel you maybe you would ... (Oz shuts her up
with a kiss) What are you doing?
OZ: Panicing.

WILLOW: Oz...don't you love me?
OZ: My whole life, I've never loved anything else.


-
 To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com"
 with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message.
 For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send
 "help" to the same address.  Do not use quotes in your message.


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

From: "Michele Bumbarger" <mbumbarg@pair.com>
Subject: (arfic-l) FIC: Eclipse: Darkness Falling (Part 0)
Date: 09 Feb 2001 20:09:52 -0500

Title: Eclipse - Book One: Darkness Falling

Part 0: Disclaimer & Notes

Author: Michele Mason Bumbarger

Email: mbumbarg@pair.com

TV Series: Alternate Universe Crossover - Buffy, the Vampire
Slayer/Highlander: The Series/Original Series Tomorrow People and New
Series Tomorrow People

Rating: TV-14, there's a little bit of bad language and it gets
violent in some points, nothing more than you'd catch on prime time
television though

Summary: See Notes

Archive: Only mine (Alternate Realities).

Author's Notes:  To start, this is a work in progress. It's a little
idea I toyed with for a while and then set about putting to paper in
the spring of 1999. Every now and then, I pull it out, tweak a bit and
add another chapter. I don't know when it will be finished, but I do
know that it has held my interest for two years, which is far longer
than most of my unfinished work manages to last before deletion. I
have a full outline and plan, it's just a matter of getting it there.
So, just sit back and consider me the Robert Jordan of fandom (or, for
those unfamiliar with Robert Jordan, just think of Stephen King's
ongoing Dark Tower series).

First let it be known that this is a weird one. As the tag line
implies, this is a multi-universal crossover, but not in the way that
one would probably expect. In this case, this is an entirely different
timeline and an alternate universe (alternate to all of the series'
canons' universes). In this universe, the characters appear in
somewhat different incarnations; sometimes with different names, and
certainly in different relationships with one another. Sound
confusing? I hope that it isn't; I am trying to write this in such a
way that you will recognize the characters from personality and
physical descriptions.

The Plot: Imagine an alternative world where you can engineer your
perfect child, where genetic manipulation is the norm. Imagine a world
where even the power of magick is often not power enough to stand
against the evils of technology. Imagine a world where psionic powers
are valued by the government and military and those possessing these
powers are 'harvested' and 'trained' and made second class citizens to
live their lives as the government dictates. This is the world of
Eclipse where a small handful of rebels, known as the Coalition,
strive to upset the balance of power and create a world of equality
and freedom for all. A world where your best friend might be your
enemy and your enemy the only friend you have. A world where only the
rich and powerful are allowed to ignore the laws because they make the
laws; a world that is slowly decaying and falling to pieces and no one
is yet the wiser.

Disclaimer: None of these characters, television shows, or concepts
belong to me. The Tomorrow People are the property of Roger Damon
Price, Thames/ITV Television, and Tetra Television. Buffy the Vampire
Slayer characters belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Highlander:
The Series characters belong to Panzer/Davis, Rhysher Entertainment
and Gaumont Television. All are used here without permission and not
for profit. All original characters are the by-product of my own
warped and twisted imagination.

Feedback: I crave it, live for it, and need it like mammals need
oxygen to breathe. Send all comments and encouragement to
mbumbarg@pair.com. All flames and discouragement may be sent to
im-not-listening@I-don't-care.com  They will immediately sorted into
the virtual circular file.

Michele Mason Bumbarger
02.09.2001


"You know, I used to think it was awful that life was so unfair. Then
I thought, wouldn't it be much worse if life were fair, and all the
terrible things that happen to us come because we actually deserve
them? So, now I take great comfort in the general hostility and
unfairness of the universe."
                 -- Marcus Cole, Babylon 5, A Late Delivery from
Avalon

********
a l t e r n a t e REALITIES Fan Fiction Archive
http://www.alternate-realities.net
********


-
 To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com"
 with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message.
 For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send
 "help" to the same address.  Do not use quotes in your message.


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

From: "Michele Bumbarger" <mbumbarg@pair.com>
Subject: (arfic-l) FIC: Eclipse: Darkness Falling (Part 1)
Date: 09 Feb 2001 20:27:33 -0500

Title: Eclipse - Book One: Darkness Falling

Part 1: Prologue

Author: Michele Mason Bumbarger

Email: mbumbarg@pair.com

TV Series: Alternate Universe Crossover - Buffy, the Vampire
Slayer/Highlander: The Series/Original Series Tomorrow People and New
Series Tomorrow People

Rating: TV-14, there's a little bit of bad language and it gets
violent in some points, nothing more than you'd catch on prime time
television though

Archive: Only mine (Alternate Realities).

Author's Notes & Comments: See Ramblings in Part 0

Disclaimer: None of these characters, television shows, or concepts
belong to me. The Tomorrow People are the property of Roger Damon
Price, Thames/ITV Television, and Tetra Television. Buffy the Vampire
Slayer characters belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Highlander:
The Series characters belong to Panzer/Davis, Rhysher Entertainment
and Gaumont Television. All are used here without permission and not
for profit. All original characters are the by-product of my own
warped and twisted imagination.

****

Prologue

"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned."

Leaning comfortably back against the wall of the confessional, the
priest nodded. This would be his last confession of the day, and for
that he gave a small prayer of thanks. Then, realizing precisely how
sacrilegious and petulant that relief was, he grimaced inwardly. He
was true to his faith, no matter how much the government had twisted
and mutated it into what they wanted it to be to keep the Unified
Alliance strong. "How long has it been since your last confession?"

"I have never been to confession. I am not Catholic."

Those words caused him to sit up straighter, as though a bolt of
electricity had been sent through his entire body. Yet, his voice
remained calm. "Child, there is but one religion in the Unified
Alliance and that is the true religion of our Lord and Savior and his
blessed Mother. We are all Catholic and we are all His children."

"And where there are those gathered in my name, I am there."

The bible verse was both a light of hope and a tentacle of fear that
wrapped itself around his heart. Each time he went through this, he
knew he was walking a fine line between freedom and imprisonment. Each
time, he gave a small prayer that the person on the other side of the
confessional was truly one of his own, and not a spy or infiltrator.
That would mean trial and death for the charge of treason.

That would mean the end of his work here forever.

"What weighs heavy upon your soul my child?" The priest asked quietly,
his heart pounding so loudly he wondered if the parishioner could hear
it as well.

"I wish to know if the gates of heaven are open to all of God's
children no matter what their sin or crime."

The code words yet again. Words that held meaning for him, but would
hold meaning for no one else listening to the conversation . . . if
anyone was listening. The government insisted that the confessional
was still sacred but he did not trust the government any more than his
father had before him.

"The gates of heaven are always open, but sometimes a soul must be
weighed in purgatory."

"Even the souls of children who are without sin?"

"Even children bear the stain of original sin."

"They have been baptized and cleansed and I know their hour draws
near, Father. If I should lose them, I need to know that they will be
received at the pearly gates."

Children. Even he could not turn away children. "The Lord will not
turn his face on the innocent and the pure."

"Is it wrong of me to miss them already? I do not think they will
survive this night or the 'morrow and -"

"No matter how short their time, be glad and give praise for the joy
they have brought to your life. And know that you too, one day will be
united with them in heaven."

"Thank you Father."

"You are welcome, my child."

He waited a while before leaving the confessional and returning to his
private chambers, feeling the familiar ball of disgust rise up in
stomach.

Children, mere children. They would be shipped out of Psi Control
tonight and sent to the farms . . . the camps . . . or worse, to their
deaths. Because their psionic abilities were not strong enough, or
because they were not powerful enough to be used by the Unified
Alliance. Perhaps it would be because they were not 'trainable' or
'malleable.' Whatever the case, they were less than second class
citizens now. Their status would be entered into their permanent
records and they would never ever be allowed even the semblance of
freedom unless they were re-tested later . . . which seldom happened.

He had only a few hours to prepare and he hated to rush these things.
The only way to keep the safe houses safe was to approach these
transfers with caution and thought. But these children would not be
safe for another few days, that much was certain. If The Coalition
insider thought they would be safe, they would not have come to him.

Putting on his overcoat, Father Andrew sighed heavily. He had a
contact to meet if he hoped to get those children to the safe house by
morning. And then it would be time for another letter to Brother
Darius.

Andrew hoped that his fellow would be able to accommodate two more
children and smuggle them into Africa.

It was their only hope for freedom.

* * * * *

"How are you today?"

It took her a moment to realize that the question was directed at her.
It took her a moment to realize that the speaker was sitting besides
her on the patio terrace, hands folded on the table top, staring
curiously at her while he awaited her answer. She looked up from her
reading, trying to remember his name, and secretly despising the
interruption. Why couldn't people just leave her alone? "Fine . . .
Stephen. Just fine."

Stephen tilted his head, his eyebrows rising in implied disbelief as a
lock of soft brown hair flapped across his blue-gray eyes. "Want to
try that again? This time with feeling."

She sighed and marking her page in the book of poems closed it and set
it aside. "I guess, I'm a little homesick."

That probably made a world of sense to Stephen. It probably made her
sound like a raving lunatic. When home was the outskirts of the city,
the lean-to's and shanties where the poor lived . . . if you could
call it living. She grew up in the ghettos and slums that the upper
crest of London tried to pretend didn't exist; she grew up in the
forgotten subway and train tunnels that made the underground where
there was scarcely enough to live on . . . but where they were free.

It hadn't always been that way. She remembered a yellow house with a
porch. She remembered pretty dresses and lace around her socks and
shoes that were shiny and black. She remembered dresses and trinkets
and a time when her dolls had all been new and real, and not battered
and busted. Like yesterday, she remembered the streets of downtown
London, the shops and people. And all their thoughts a jumble of
wonderful and fantastic noise that filled her senses and made her feel
like she had power over them.

She knew what the ladies on the train really thought about one
another. She knew what that man in that corner wasn't saying to his
wife on the phone. She knew why that woman's dress wasn't coming out
properly, even if the woman couldn't figure it out for herself. She
knew it all; she heard it all. And she had known when the people were
going to test her; she hadn't understood what all the fuss was about.
She hadn't understood why they shot guns at them or why they left the
house and the dresses and the dolls behind.

Sometimes, she wished that she had never gained that understanding.

Because back then, she hadn't known what she was and in not knowing,
she had been free. Now, she had the knowledge that she would never be
free as long as Psi Control could use her mind. But she was one of the
lucky ones; she had lived on the fringe actively using her psi powers
for most of her life, and had avoided capture and tagging for . . .
well, all of the time she had spent living there.

If only she had listened when they called the raid. If only she hadn't
gone back for little Sara and the child's silent twin. If only they
had been able to find some place to hide. If only she hadn't lost
control for those few minutes and attempted to crash the tunnel with
telekinesis alone; if only she hadn't decided to fling two of the
raiders a distance of several meters with the power and will of her
mind. If only, if only, if only. It didn't do any good to wish or look
back now. What was done was done and there was no turning back the
clock.

They still told her to consider herself among the lucky. She had spent
only three days at the harvesting farm before she had been brought to
The Centre. Only three days living in military cabins on a thin cot
with a small blanket. Only three days before she was banded at The
Centre, given a small flat of her own and living credits. She was one
of the special ones, one with talent that Psi Control could use once
they figured out what to do with it. She was one of the lucky ones.
She would have the semblance of life until the day she died.

The slums had been better. Even eating cold food out of cans and
huddling around weak and dying fires had been better. The disease, the
infestations, the cries of the hungry children were all better than
her "blessed luck."

But the people here were good. The psi's that had welcomed her that
first night. They made their own family units here, just as they poor
and the psi's did on the fringe. She really didn't want to take her
anger and bitterness out on those who worked so hard to be good to her
. . . but sometimes it was hard.

"Yeah, that happens," Stephen said softly. "Where are you from,
anyway?"

"Aurora Farms."

"No," Stephen shook his head, giving her a soft smile. "Where are you
from? What city?"

She blinked at him in surprise. Why did it matter? To Psi Control they
were designations and numbers, marked by their abilities and where
they were 'harvested.'

"Because no matter what they do to us, here we are more than psi's,"
Stephen's smile softened in a silent apology for breaching her
thoughts. "We are still people and we can't ever forget that. We can't
ever let them take that away from us."

"I was born in London. But I lived in the fringe since I was six," she
supplied quietly. "My mother ran away with me when I tested positive."

Stephen nodded. "I didn't get that lucky. It never occurred to my
parents to run. They just accepted it and handed me over."

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Don't be. I'm not. I didn't grow up in one of the farms or one of the
camps. I grew up here, in The Centre. Liz helped me, she'll help you
if you let her. We all will. We have to stick together in here."

She studied the man across from her for a moment. He was at least ten
or fifteen years older than her, but there was still an air of
childhood and youthful enthusiasm around him. He had to be a rarity,
growing up in The Centre. Most of those she saw here were merely
resigned.

"Do you like it here, Stephen?" she asked him.

There was a moment while he paused, considering her question. He sat
back in his seat, thrumming long fingers against the tabletop, his
eyes momentarily closing. When he finally opened them and looked at
her again, he too wore the familiar mask of resignation. "Like it? No.
Have I found . . . satisfaction, yes. You accept it and move on. It's
how you survive. It's the only way you survive.

"You've gotten a second chance. It's a life, a different life than
what you wanted or what you had but it's a chance. It's your chance,
not theirs. You are still you no matter what they tell you. As long as
you don't forget that, you'll be fine."

Stephen leaned forward again, placing his outstretched arm on the
table. He ran his fingers lightly over the metallic band. "They call
me Gamma Nine Two Five. But that's not who I am. I'm Stephen Jamison.
I always have been and I always will be. Now, who are you?"

She stared down at her own band for a moment. The wristband was better
than the collars and ankle manacles they used at the farms. Better
than the collars and body harnesses she heard they used at the camps.
But still it marked her as a designation, a psi and nothing more. Yet,
Stephen seemed to believe that she could hold onto her identity, to
her fragile and important past. He seemed to be proof that what did
not kill you did indeed make you stronger.

Slowly she lifted her head to meet his eyes, seeing the challenge
there. Briefly, she wondered how often he did this, how often he
approached the new psi's and forced them to stare down their fear and
their pain, forced them to accept this path but not to lose themselves
to it.

"I'm Amelie Jackson."

Stephen took her hand and shook it, a gesture of friendship and
welcome. "Welcome to The Centre, Amelie. I think that you're going to
be just fine here."

* * * * *

David Stade watched without expression as the medic pulled the sheet
over the face of the pale and lifeless corpse. Another one wasted,
another pushed too far and then beyond. They were too weak, too
fragile, these psi's. Too weak and fragile for what The Board wanted
to be accomplished. But it would not be up to him to tell them that.
The Board ran Psi Control. The Board owned Psi Control. And
ultimately, The Board owned David Stade.

"That's the third one this month, Stade. What am I supposed to tell
The Board?" The voice from behind him was raspy, yet feminine. A voice
that carried the telltale signs of too many cigarettes.

"Tell them that another subject died. Tell them that the boy broke."
Stade turned, facing the woman slowly. She was a good head and half
shorter than him, with glittering gray eyes which matched the silver
and gray of her hair. She leaned on a cane, a large diamond or other
precious jewel ring on each finger of her hand, and at first glance
she seemed both diminutive and weak. Stade knew better. He did not
underestimate her. She was as powerful . . . and as dangerous . . . as
The Board.

"I don't care what you tell them, Lady Mulvaney. Just make it clear
that I need more time."

"More time?" She stepped forward and although he gazed down at her, he
felt like the one being cowered. "You've had six months. How much more
time do you need? How much more time do you think that The Board can
give you?"

"You don't understand the sensitivity of this! You don't and they don'
t! I can't simply reshape a mind, make a person into a machine over
night, I can't -"

"They are not people, Stade. They are psi's."

"And their physiology is the same as yours or mine. Too much and they
break. Like that boy."

"We can't afford for you to continue breaking them. Psi's are a
commodity."

And like all commodities, even a psi could not be wasted. Stade knew
the rhetoric and the litany. "Then stop pressuring me. Give me time to
do what has to be done . . . and maybe I won't destroy anymore of your
precious commodities!"

"I'll talk to The Board. I make no promises, but I will see what can
be done." Lady Mulvaney turned on her heel and left without a backward
glance.

David Stade swore softly and then putting the corpse out of his mind,
returned to his lab. It was back to the drawing board, and he had a
lot of work to do before the next batch of psi's rolled his way.

****

Colonel Masters calmly bit the tip from his cigar, his gaze focused on
the cold steel in the blue eyes that locked on his from the other side
of his desk. He hated this part of the job. He hated the Hunters as
much as he hated those dirty psi's. Sometimes he thought that he might
just hate the Psi Hunters more. He certainly hated the man across from
him. Masters hated talking to him, hated dealing with him. Hell, he
even hated *thinking* about dealing with him. At least the psi's knew
their place. They were the second class citizens. They were born to
serve and serving they would die. The Hunters, particularly men like
this one, seemed to think that they ran the show and that everyone
should bow and cow-tow to them.

Masters had never done it and he wasn't about to start now.

Striking a match against the edge of his desk, he calmly lit the cigar
and puffed on it a few times. "Cuban. I love my country, I am as
patriotic as the next man. But we just can't make a cigar like those
Cuban bastards do. You didn't want one, did you?"

"No." The man was practically seething. His jaw clenched tightly, his
face a dark red, a vein popping out in his throat.

Masters puffed again. "Nothing like a good Cuban cigar." Then, pulling
the cigar away from his mouth, he gave his full attention to the Psi
Hunter. "I believe you were questioning my terms, Horton. I don't like
it when you question my terms. Psi Control doesn't like it when
Hunters start getting ideas of their own."

"I'm not afraid of your idle threats, Masters." James Horton narrowed
his eyes. "You and I both know that Psi Control needs the Hunters. And
I am one of the best. I brought you four, and I think that deserves a
bit more than we previously discussed."

Pretending to consider the man's words, Masters enjoyed the cigar a
bit longer. It was contraband for certain, but he was a man with
powerful friends. This little vice would go unnoticed and besides, it
was the wonderful and full of himself Dr. Neiman that gave him the
cigars in the first place. For a job well done and for his careful and
wonderful management of the situation with the Hunters.

In other words, the pompous windbag had been thanking him for
making sure that none of the high and mighty up at Psi Corporation and
Centre for Development and Control had to deal with the righteous and
pompous like James Horton.

"They might be damaged."

While it may be true that Psi Control didn't care how they got their
hands on psi's who slipped through initial testing or the rogue ones
who escaped the farms and camps, they did care whether or not those
ones were in good condition. Methods of delivery didn't matter, so
long as they were handed over mentally in tact. For the most part, Psi
Control didn't want to know about the methods; it helped them to
pretend that they only served the government and that they kept their
hands clean.

No, they didn't want to know about men like Horton who used psi's to
bait, trap and catch their own kind. He used them and used them until
they burnt out or burnt up and then he simply supplied himself with
another one. Like the girl that stood in the corner now, staring
submissively down at her feet, her blonde hair falling obscuring her
face like a veil.

Masters repressed a shudder as his eyes and thoughts turned to the
girl. He hated being around psi's, he hated the way they looked at
him, peeling back the layers of his mind. The way she looked at him
now, tired blue eyes simply staring at him as though she had perceived
his every thought. Which she probably had.

He hadn't wanted her in his office at all. She was properly banded,
the security device around her neck and another around her ankle, she
wouldn't be able to escape Horton. But the weasel had insisted on
keeping the girl close; Masters knew that he did it to have the upper
hand, to make him uncomfortable. He refused to give James Horton the
satisfaction.

"Masters, you know they are in good shape. Jade will even verify it if
you ask her."

At the sound of her name, the girl's gaze shifted to Horton, her eyes
hardening ever so slightly. Masters noted that with some interest.
Horton might have a trained dog, but it was an unwilling trained dog.
And the unwilling trained dog just waited for an opportunity to bite
the hand that feeds. He would so enjoy being there the day that Horton
got bitten.

No, Masters didn't want to ask her. He didn't want to deal with psi's
at all and Horton knew it. But then again, Masters knew that the psi's
were all in good condition. One had even had the nerve to glare in
defiance and spit in Horton's face. A good show and strong spirit, but
Psi Control would take care of that.

"Fine, Horton. You'll get your extra money. Just get the hell out of
my office. You're starting to make the place stink."

Masters turned his chair away, staring at the back wall to indicate an
end to the conversation. Hunters and psi's. He hated them both.


*** End of Prologue


"You know, I used to think it was awful that life was so unfair. Then
I thought, wouldn't it be much worse if life were fair, and all the
terrible things that happen to us come because we actually deserve
them? So, now I take great comfort in the general hostility and
unfairness of the universe."
       -- Marcus Cole, Babylon 5, A Late Delivery from Avalon

********
a l t e r n a t e REALITIES Fan Fiction Archive
http://www.alternate-realities.net
********





-
 To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com"
 with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message.
 For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send
 "help" to the same address.  Do not use quotes in your message.


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

From: "Michele Bumbarger" <mbumbarg@pair.com>
Subject: (arfic-l) FIC: Eclipse: Darkness Falling (Part 2)
Date: 09 Feb 2001 20:33:32 -0500

Title: Eclipse - Book One: Darkness Falling

Part 2: Chapter One

Author: Michele Mason Bumbarger

Email: mbumbarg@pair.com

TV Series: Alternate Universe Crossover - Buffy, the Vampire
Slayer/Highlander: The Series/Original Series Tomorrow People and New
Series Tomorrow People

Rating: TV-14, there's a little bit of bad language and it gets
violent in some points, nothing more than you'd catch on prime time
television though

Archive: Only mine (Alternate Realities).

Author's Notes & Comments: See Ramblings in Part 0

Disclaimer: None of these characters, television shows, or concepts
belong to me. The Tomorrow People are the property of Roger Damon
Price, Thames/ITV Television, and Tetra Television. Buffy the Vampire
Slayer characters belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Highlander:
The Series characters belong to Panzer/Davis, Rhysher Entertainment
and Gaumont Television. All are used here without permission and not
for profit. All original characters are the by-product of my own
warped and twisted imagination.

****

Chapter One

She found him exactly where she knew he would be found. Slumped over
the workbench, forehead resting on the white sleeved lab coat that
covered his arm, a pile of papers scattered beneath his cheek and
within reach at his fingertips he slept as though he lounged in his
bed back home. Juggling the cardboard tray that held three hot cups of
coffee, a large orange juice, one cranberry juice, three bagels and a
box of half a dozen donuts, and the shoulder bag slung over one arm,
she smiled fondly at him as her elbow grazed the light panel.

The room brightened instantly, artificial fluorescent light coloring
everything in a sickly yellow glow. For a moment, the sudden
brightness stung her dark eyes, and Sue Lee took a moment to blink in
the brightness before everything came into focus once again. Computer
equipment, laser technology and other items that she could never
identify or remember the names of lined the walls; the printer at the
far end of the room hummed softly while spitting out a row of
equations that read like a foreign language to her untrained eyes. A
multitude of different cords crisscrossed the floor, books and
notebooks piled on the various desks and tables, and still she managed
to skirt around them all with the grace and familiarity of a dancer on
a stage. The tray found its way to its usual place on top of the
compact refrigerator, and she skittered across the room with two cups
of coffee in those Styrofoam cups.

Now, there was something that amazed her. Styrofoam. One would think
that with all the technological advances the Unified Alliance had made
in the past years that Styrofoam would have become a thing of the
past. But in this case, as well as in so many others, old habits died
hard she supposed.

Slipping onto the lab stool besides her target, Sue Lee set down the
coffee cups and affectionately mussed the tousled dark head of hair.
Her voice was a soft lilting and British accent, complimenting her
fine Asian features. "Come on Sleeping Beauty, it's time to join the
land of the living."

He stirred slowly, heavy lidded dark eyes opening to blink at her in
confusion. Sue Lee watched in amusement as the emotions of waking
drifted across his handsome young face as his eyes slowly came to
focus on her. Then suddenly, as if someone had flipped on light, he
was awake and sitting upright.  Rubbing the back of his neck and
yawning, he spoke in the familiar Australian accent that he had
retained even after living in the British Provinces for most of his
life. "Sue Lee . . . what are you doing here?"

The unasked question being 'What are you doing here this late?' That
thought made her smile more brightly.

"It's already morning, Neiman. You slept here last night." Sue Lee
paused and nudged one of the cups of coffee towards him. "Again."

He grinned sheepishly, and took the cup. "How did you know I was
 here?"

"Where else would you be? I stopped by to pick you up," she popped the
plastic lid from her coffee and lifted it to her nose, enjoying the
aroma that wafted up. "My turn to car pool us, remember? Anyway, you
weren't home. You didn't answer when I rang you, and your bed wasn't
slept in."

"You let yourself in again," it was an accusation.

"You should be glad that I worry about you," Sue Lee retorted.

"Mother henning me is more like it," he grumbled.

Sue Lee shrugged, undeterred by his indignation. She had been
mothering him for so long that she didn't think it was possible for
her to not mother him. "Adam, you really need to start getting some
sleep."

"I get sleep," Adam argued over the rim of the coffee cup.

"Some place other than this lab." Jumping off the lab stool, she
marched over the white write-on/wipe-off board and studied the
equations written there for a moment. She knew nothing about physics
or math, but she was observant enough to know that the equations had
not changed at all in the past few weeks. "You and Red still haven't
worked this out?"

"Not yet, but we're getting closer." The shift in topic brought down
Adam Neiman's defenses and he was by her side in a heartbeat. "The
part that's slowing us down is the quantum differential. I think that
if we . . ."

The rest of his words were lost on her because they made about as much
sense as to her as Ancient Egyptian. Sue Lee did however, smile in
encouragement, enjoying the enthusiasm and love that Adam showed for
his latest interest . . . solving the problem of time travel. Or
rather disproving all the theorems and equations that demonstrated why
time travel was an impossibility. And, given enough time and enough
rope to hang himself with, Sue Lee knew that he would manage to do
just that.

Adam Neiman was what was a "golden child." He had a mind like a vice
and a photographic memory. And he had been born that way naturally . .
. not engineered in one of his father's biological laboratories like
so many of the golden children who emerged these days. His father, the
esteemed Dr. A. Marcus Neiman, hailed Adam as the prime example of how
intelligence and ability could most arguably be inherited. Adam, for
his part, tried to ignore his biological relationship to Dr. Neiman as
much as possible.

"Whoa, Neiman, put a cap on it will ya?"

The call came from the entrance of the lab as their friend, and the
other half of Adam's time travel equation, wandered into the small
private lab. Red was, as usual, wearing nothing more than a pair of
sweats and running shoes although the weather was cool and slightly
damp. He raked his fingers through his damp titan hair, the feature
that earned him his nickname, and headed immediately towards the
refrigerator and the breakfast tray which Sue Lee had provided. "You'
re putting Sue to sleep again."

"Hey Red," Adam raised his cup in greeting. "You're here early."

"I told you I would be," Red grabbed the remaining cup of coffee and
opened the box of donuts. "You didn't think I'd forget?"

"Did you boys have a break thru last night?" Sue Lee asked, admittedly
a bit curious. Marmaduke "Red" Damon crawled out of bed before ten o'
clock in the morning only for the most specific and important of
reasons. For him to have arrived at the lab before nine o'clock was a
fact that didn't escape her scrutiny.

"Yeah, I was just telling you -" Adam stopped in mid-sentence, his
dark brown eyes focused on the woman in front of him. "You weren't
listening, were you?"

"I was listening. I wasn't understanding."

"That's because Neiman over there thinks that everyone is a MENSA
scholar and that he doesn't have to explain things in plain English,"
Red leaned against the window sill, and gave her a wink. "Sometimes, I
don't understand a word that he's talking about. . . so did you go
home last night or did you pull up a stool?"

"I got sleep," Adam responded instantly to his friend's inquiry.

"You slept here. Why do you even pay rent? Just buy yourself a cot for
the corner and you'll save money."

"Speaking of which," Sue Lee spoke up quickly, hoping to stave off
what would certainly turn into a mild disagreement between the two
young men, "I brought you a change of clothes. I thought that you
might want to teach class today in something different than you were
wearing yesterday."

Adam took the offered shoulder bag with a sigh and another one of
those sheepish grins that made him look like a young boy and not the
twenty-five year old man who was out to foil Einstein and the other
great minds of the twentieth century. "Thanks, Sue."

"Get changed. You've got class in twenty minutes."

As Adam disappeared into the back office to change, Sue Lee returned
her attention to the board of equations. "So, did you have a break
thru?"

"We think so. We may have found the problematic equation," Red spoke
around the donut he was rapidly devouring, but it was a behavior so
typical that Sue Lee barely noticed it all. "I'm going to do some
hypothetical runs through the computer to see what I come up with
while Neiman's in class today."

Pausing briefly to finish swallowing, he lowered his voice and cast
his eyes towards the office. "You know, we really need to do something
about him."

Sue Lee nodded, "I know. He needs to get out more."

"He needs to get a woman. He needs to date . . . to do something
besides hole himself up in this lab with his computers and equations."
Red didn't mince words, but Sue Lee hadn't expected him to. One thing
she had learned about Red was that he was honest . . . blatantly
honest.

She hadn't trusted the young, loud student from the when he Adam had
first introduced the two of them almost three years ago. But she was
protective of Adam Neiman; from the time his mother had died when he
was only six years old, Sue Lee had been his nanny and his best
friend. Although a distance of ten years separated them, they had
always been close and after watching him hurt by his father's cold and
methodical love, and the few failed attempts at friendship, she had
taken it upon herself to be both a mentor and mother to him.

Red was Adam's friend though, not someone who simply wanted to get
close to him because of who Adam's father was. He was a loyal friend,
and one that was honest enough to tell Adam the things he needed to
hear and not only the things he wanted to hear. He was also a whiz kid
with computers and his addition to Adam's team was priceless.

"How many times do I think I've told him that? Suggested it?
Encouraged it?" Sue Lee asked softly. She waved her hand negligently
around the lab, "This is what he loves. It doesn't matter what I say
or what I do. This is Adam's passion."

"And what happens when he solves this equation . . . and he will solve
it, Sue. What happens when this is gone? What's going to get him all
fueled up then?"

Sue Lee stared sadly at the office door behind which Adam changed. "I
don't know, Red. I really don't know."

** End of Chapter One

"You know, I used to think it was awful that life was so unfair. Then
I thought, wouldn't it be much worse if life were fair, and all the
terrible things that happen to us come because we actually deserve
them? So, now I take great comfort in the general hostility and
unfairness of the universe."
           -- Marcus Cole, Babylon 5, A Late Delivery from Avalon


********
a l t e r n a t e REALITIES Fan Fiction Archive
http://www.alternate-realities.net
********


-
 To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com"
 with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message.
 For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send
 "help" to the same address.  Do not use quotes in your message.


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

From: "Michele Bumbarger" <mbumbarg@pair.com>
Subject: (arfic-l) FIC: Eclipse: Darkness Falling (Part 3)
Date: 09 Feb 2001 20:42:37 -0500

Title: Eclipse - Book One: Darkness Falling

Part 3: Chapter Two

Author: Michele Mason Bumbarger

Email: mbumbarg@pair.com

TV Series: Alternate Universe Crossover - Buffy, the Vampire
Slayer/Highlander: The Series/Original Series Tomorrow People and New
Series Tomorrow People

Rating: TV-14, there's a little bit of bad language and it gets
violent in some points, nothing more than you'd catch on prime time
television though

Archive: Only mine (Alternate Realities).

Author's Notes & Comments: See Ramblings in Part 0

Disclaimer: None of these characters, television shows, or concepts
belong to me. The Tomorrow People are the property of Roger Damon
Price, Thames/ITV Television, and Tetra Television. Buffy the Vampire
Slayer characters belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Highlander:
The Series characters belong to Panzer/Davis, Rhysher Entertainment
and Gaumont Television. All are used here without permission and not
for profit. All original characters are the by-product of my own
warped and twisted imagination.

****

Chapter Two

He hated this part. After three weeks of excuses, of polite
declinations due to lectures to prepare or exams and proofs to grade,
of think tanks and brainstorming with the physics and math departments
at the University and of simple hiding in his lab and pretending that
he wasn't aware of the calls channeled into him, Adam had run out of
excuses. Now it was time for the obligatory lunch with his father,
where Dr. Neiman feigned interest in the life of his son and
inevitable tried to convince Adam of how righteous and wonderful the
world was and how fortunate Adam was to live in it.

It didn't help matters any that these lunches or dinners or unexpected
meetings always took place at Psi Corporation and Centre for
Development and Control, or The Centre as it referred to itself. Not
that this was the only Centre; but this was the one in London, and
when one spoke of The Centre everyone knew what you meant. The Centre
was the polite way of naming it; Psi Control was the derogatory end of
it and Adam used that particular designation as often as possible.

Placing his fingertips against the finger pad and looking into the
scanner, he waited indifferently while the computer performed its
routine security check. The Centre was a world and city within itself;
no one got either in or out of The Centre without passing through the
security checkpoints. This was how the Unified Alliance protected its
"interest."

Adam bit back the bile of gore and disgust that rose in his throat at
the last thought. They were people, for God's sake. Psi's were people
just like the rest of them. Yes, they were given some extraordinary
skills and abilities, but they were neither animals nor bizarre freaks
of nature. They breathed the same air and their bodies functioned in
the same fashion. The only differences were traced genetically, or
sometimes found in brain scans, and even those could sometimes be
unreliable.

"Neiman, Adam M. Normal. Security clearance provided. Enjoy your visit
to The Centre."

Barely acknowledging the soft feminine computer voice, or the security
guard that handed back his pass card, Adam shoved his hands deep into
the pockets of his coat and headed into The Centre proper.

Normal. That was his designation in the computer files of the
Alliance. Meaning that he lacked any psionic abilities and therefore
was allowed all rights and freedoms as a full citizen of the Alliance.
Normal. Even though he had never had a normal day or relationship with
his father. Normal, even though nothing about him truly was. It didn't
matter. That was where the line was drawn, you were a normal or you
were a psi. And if you were a psi, your life was not your own from the
moment the government found you.

But The Centre was meant to provide the illusion of normality and
freedom to the psi's. A huge complex with shopping centers,
restaurants, schools and living complexes, it was here the 'best of
the best' of the psi's lived, worked and existed while they waited for
the Alliance or Psi Control to find some work for them. They had
everything that they could ever want . . . aside from the ownership of
themselves.

Walking among them didn't bother Adam the way that it did so many
"normals." He had been here often enough to know that psi's preferred
to keep their distance from norms as much as norms tried to keep their
distance from the psi's that were mainstreamed into the outside world.
He also knew that psi's didn't need to go out of their way to read the
minds of norms; it seemed that most norms were so loud that psi's had
to concentrate to *not* hear their thoughts.

He took his time walking through the public garden on his way to the
private elevator that led up to the Operational Offices. The top most
level of The Centre where his father, and hundreds of other men and
women who somehow believed themselves to be the closest thing to God,
sat and watched and manipulated and controlled the world beneath them.
Personally, he liked the public garden; he liked the serene
tranquility and beauty that it provided, just as it was supposed to
provide a buffer between the psi's and the outside world. Adam knew
that it was more for the comfort of the norms that had to come to The
Centre to work than to provide any comfort for the psi's themselves.
Psi's had no lives and no rights.

Slumping against the elevator wall, he ignored those in the elevator
with him as the carriage began its ascent. He didn't wish to make idle
conversation about the war in the Russian front or the slow political
breaking down and reshaping of the South American continent. It was
only a matter of time before the entire world was part of the Unified
Alliance, one government, one church . . .how long before they tried
to make them all one mind?

Two psi's and two norms occupied the elevator with him. The metallic
black bands they wore on their wrists could identify the psi's. Those
bands tracked them, just as their DNA markers did. Everything about
them was contained in those bands, and they could not be removed
without alerting the military police and Psi Control at the highest
levels. Those bands tagged and collared them like dogs, marking their
difference from norms. Without them, they would have appeared just as
normal as everyone else.

At least that was not his father's invention. That was not something
else for him to be disgusted with the name Neiman for creating. Not
that it was any consolation to him; his father was responsible for
enough that disgusted him.

Adam checked his watch. Not that he needed to really. He had an
internal awareness of time that was more precise than any watch ever
had been. No, he checked his watch because it gave him something to do
in the silent hum and rise of the elevator. He checked his watch
because it would allow him to focus his thoughts and plan the
remainder of his day . . .which he hoped would go better than his
morning had.

Starting with Sue Lee waking him in the lab, the day had gone
downhill. And Adam honestly hadn't meant to sleep at the lab last
night. Last night, he had intended to go home, get a shower, feed his
cat and focus his mind on something else other than those equations.
He knew that his mind was getting too cluttered, that he wasn't
focusing properly and he knew the only way to combat that was to take
a few steps back and approach it from another angle.

But that hadn't happened. Instead, he had woken up to Sue Lee's
mothering and spent the last ten minutes before he dashed off to teach
his sophomore level physics class listening to Red try and set him up
with some grad student or another. While he appreciated their concern
and their efforts, neither of his friends seemed to realize that the
last thing Adam had any interest in at this moment was a romantic
entanglement. Those always ended in upset and heartache and he wasn't
going to travel that road again yet . . . if he ever did. Besides,
even the most intelligent and brightest of The University students
didn't hold Adam's interest. They didn't think the way he thought,
they didn't see the things he saw no matter how hard he tried to
explain them.

They didn't share his passion and in the end, that was the biggest
disappointment of all.

His students today had been ill prepared for class and no amount of
prodding could seem to make them think and perform properly. Then
Professor Cage had actually gotten offended when Adam found the simple
error in his theoretical equation and corrected it. Adam wouldn't have
minded the man's offense or scathing remarks if the professor hadn't
asked for his help to begin with.

"I don't know why you bother to help those dried up prunes," Red had
remarked. "They're jealous of Neiman, and they don't appreciate your
mind."

Maybe not, but he didn't have to be a stuck-up windbag simply because
they were, did he?

By the time the elevator reached Central Operations, Adam disembarked
alone. He nodded and smiled at the general receptionist and headed off
towards his father's offices. The sooner he got this over with, the
happier he would be. And with any luck, Red might have actually made
some progress on those computer simulations.

"Adam."

He saw her too late to alter his course and pretend he hadn't seen
her.

"Lucy."

She was precisely as he remembered her . . . no that wasn't the truth.
She looked the same; the same shoulder length brown hair, the same
inquisitive gray eyes, but other than that there was nothing there
that Adam remembered. The Lucy he knew had been energetic and wanted
to conquer the world. She wanted to be a journalist; she wanted to
travel beyond the boundaries of the Alliance and show the world the
truth of what lie beyond in Asia and Russian and Africa. She wanted .
. . she wanted to make a difference.

Well, he supposed that she was doing precisely that. Only these days
found her making a difference for Psi Control. Standing before him now
in the standard white uniform of Psi Control, her identification badge
on her right shoulder and a clip board and data computer in one arm,
Lucy Adams was not the young idealistic college student that he had
fallen in love with and almost married. These days, Lucy Adams was
about as free and independent as the psi's in the lower levels; Psi
Control owned her, but she had gone willingly when the price was
right.

She made a difference. She made the world see Psi Control the way they
wanted to be seen.

And in the end, she had made Adam not wish to see her at all anymore.

"How are you?" It was the standard question. It wasn't that she truly
cared or wanted an answer anymore than he wanted to give an honest
one.

"Fine. You?"

"Good," Lucy nodded. "Still working in your lab?"

"Always." Adam raked his eyes roughly over her, noting the rings on
her sleeve. She had two red ones now, not just one. Apparently she was
doing her job well enough to earn a promotion. "I see you're still
doing well with Psi Corporation." Corporation, not Control. No one
dared say the derogatory when under video surveillance or in the place
where even the plants and floors had ears.

"I'm satisfied and happy." A pause, and then, "I'm seeing someone."

And that was supposed to mean what to him? She had already sold her
soul to Psi Control, what did he care if she gave her heart to one of
its vultures? "Let me guess. A doctor."

"A very talented doctor. You could be as good as him, Adam."

He heard the silent accusation in her words. It was the same
accusation that he heard so often from his father. He could do
something useful with his mind - biogenetic engineering, computer
engineering, anything except for wasting his time and his talent
teaching at The University and holed up in his lab. Never mind that
what he did gave him satisfaction. Never mind that it made him happy.
Of course in this materialistic world where the rich got richer and
the poor wasted away until the day they mercifully died, happiness
didn't seem to be of much importance.

"No thank you, I'm good where I am. I've got a lot of sharp students
this semester."

"Well, good luck to you then. I have press conference." She brushed
past him, the all too familiar scent of her perfume making his heart
clench. God, how could he still love her after all this time, after
all that had happened and the bitter words they had exchanged?

Adam couldn't resist getting in a last retort. "Good luck sleeping
with yourself at night."

Lucy faltered, but barely. He wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't been
watching for it. Then she was gone, hurrying on to hail the wonders of
Psi Control for the modern world.

Adam continued towards his father's office, hoping to get lunch over
with as quickly as possible. He was suddenly very tired . . . and
feeling slightly ill.

*** End of Chapter Two

"You know, I used to think it was awful that life was so unfair. Then
I thought, wouldn't it be much worse if life were fair, and all the
terrible things that happen to us come because we actually deserve
them? So, now I take great comfort in the general hostility and
unfairness of the universe."
            -- Marcus Cole, Babylon 5, A Late Delivery from Avalon

********
a l t e r n a t e REALITIES Fan Fiction Archive
http://www.alternate-realities.net
********




-
 To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com"
 with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message.
 For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send
 "help" to the same address.  Do not use quotes in your message.


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

From: "Michele Bumbarger" <mbumbarg@pair.com>
Subject: (arfic-l) FIC: Worlds Away (Part 13/??)
Date: 12 Feb 2001 11:28:58 -0500

Title: Worlds Away (Part 13/??)

Author: M. Bumbarger

Email: mbumbarg@pair.com

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 Kasey, Anne and Beth who continue to enjoy this ongoing
tale.

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 Thirteen

"This has to be the world's biggest joke."

Adam quirked an eyebrow at Megabyte as the redhead slumped into one of
the gilded chairs, tugging the buttons of his short coat free. He
plucked at the buttons absently, as if he had been wearing short coats
his whole life, and Adam couldn't help but wonder if in the two weeks
he'd been in this world, if he had become as comfortable in his
surroundings as his friend.

The two young men were alone in Lord Bial's private study; for how
long Adam didn't know, but he was glad that they could take these few
private minutes. For as long as Hagen was content to smile brightly at
one of the servant girls that apparently kept his bed -- and other
things -- warm while he was at Elspera Keep, and Stewart in conference
with Lord Bial, they could speak freely. So far, however, only
Megabyte had done any speaking. Correction, Megabyte had spent the
last ten minutes complaining.

"I mean," Megabyte continued to grumble, wiggling free of the
restrictive coat, "how come I get stuck married to Jade and you get to
be a prince?"

Adam nearly choked on a mouthful of the spiced wine. "Way to look at
the big picture, Megabyte."

"I am looking at the big picture. I'm *married.* To *Jade.* How much
bigger does the picture have to be?" Megabyte scowled.

"Well, *Marmion,* at least you've had Jade."

That quieted the other. Megabyte shifted in his seat, fidgeting while
twin roses of red blossomed in both of his cheeks. "I'm sorry, Adam, I
didn't mean -- it's just -- well, it's been so weird."

Weird didn't describe the half of it; Megabyte wasn't the only one
experiencing "weird," but Adam wasn't going to remind the other of
that little fact. He didn't feel like arguing, or even getting into a
lengthy debate over who had been more miserable and confused; his
friends were here, they were alive, and for now that would have to be
good enough.

Waving his hand to dismiss the topic, Adam settled back into his seat.
"Don't worry about it. I'm just glad to see you guys."

"Yeah, same here."

Adam smiled a bit, "You think you could be a little more
enthusiastic?"

"Why don't you try spending two weeks married to Jade and see how
enthusiastic you would be?"

Leaning forward, Adam fixed his friend with a probing stare. "Has it
really been that bad, Megabyte?"

The other man straightened up, opening his mouth to respond and then,
meeting Adam's eyes, promptly snapped his jaw closed and slumped back
against the seat. He spent a few moments studying the floor, his
boots, and even the fabric of his pants before finally looking up at
Adam. "Just because I haven't killed her doesn't mean that I like this
arrangement."

It was as close to an admission of acceptance that Adam was going to
get and he took what he could. Megabyte would never, ever admit to
enjoying having Jade around, but Adam knew his friend well enough to
be able to read between the lines. And perhaps enjoyment wasn't the
right word, but Megabyte hadn't been alone for the past two weeks, and
that had to make some kind of difference, however minute.

"I'm sure that Jade admires your restraint," Adam said in response.

"Whatever," it was Megabyte's turn to change the conversation and
dismiss the topic, which he did with a slight shrug and a loud kick of
his heel against the leg of his chair. He stretched out, making
himself more comfortable, one leg tossed idly over the arm of the
chair. "So, now what?"

"Now what?" Adam looked at Megabyte over the rim of his goblet.

"Yeah, what do we do now? You're here and I'm here and Jade's here . .
. so, how do we get home?"

"How did we get here?"

"I don't know."

"Exactly."

Megabyte's eyes narrowed. "Way to go with the cryptic, Adam."

"All right, then what do you want me to say, Megabyte? I don't have
the answer. I don't know how - or why - we're here. Until I got to the
keep today, I wasn't even sure if anyone else was here. For all I
knew, I was completely alone in a strange place with strange people
and even stranger customs.

[No offense, Megabyte, but I've been more concerned with keeping up
appearances than trying to figure anything else. I don't think that
the king would take kindly to finding out that I'm an imposter.]

"And why couldn't we call you telepathically?" Megabyte sat up
suddenly, nearly splashing his drink down the front of his white linen
shirt. Adam didn't know whether he had heard Adam's words and was
ignoring them, or was simply following his own thoughts and hadn't
heard a word that Adam uttered. "I tried, while we were on the ship,
but I couldn't. I could talk to Jade, but we couldn't even sense you."

Adam chose not to take offense at the slight, particularly when
Megabyte's words echoed thoughts that Adam himself had entertained.
When he first arrived in this world, he thought that he had sensed
something - Megabyte and Jade - just beyond the reach of his mind;
repeated telepathic scanning and calling had proven futile and he gave
it up as wishful thinking, believing that because he thought he saw a
glimpse of them on the beach before the black void swallowed him that
his mind was playing tricks on him. But they really were here - and
had been here - this entire time. And speaking with them
telepathically was as easy now as it had been on earth.

Although he hadn't sensed them immediately; however, that could have
been because he was no longer trying to.

"This place is . . . different, Megabyte. Maybe the rules here are
different."

"What do you mean?"

It was Adam's turn to study the intricacies of the floor tiles and the
patterns made by the wrinkles and folds of the material of his
breeches. He hadn't thought before he made that observation aloud, and
now he was wishing that he had. It was easy to watch his words around
Hagen and Stewart, knowing that his life could depend on what was said
or not said, but with Megabyte, he forgot himself. And the truth of
the matter was he didn't know how much he wanted to tell his friend
about the powerful magic of this world; certainly, it was an issue
that needed to be discussed, but . . . how much information was too
much information, particularly when there was so much that Adam still
did not understand.

"Magic."

"Huh?"

"There's magic here, Megabyte. It's real."

"You mean like David Copperfield?"

Adam shook his head. "No, I mean like Merlin. And Gandalf." Even as he
said the words, they didn't ring true in Adam's heart; he was pretty
certain that what he felt was nothing like what the books described
for Merlin and Gandalf. "Or something like that at least."

"Are you sure you didn't hit your head? Merlin?"

He had expected a little bit of incredulity. "Okay, then not Merlin.
More like -- Willow on Buffy, the Vampire Slayer."

"Uh-huh."

"You're not taking me seriously."

"Are you taking you seriously?"

"Megabyte, do you know what damiar means?" Adam only paused long
enough to make sure he had the other's attention. "It means
'priestess-mage' and I've seen a few things that make me believe that
they aren't joking or exaggerating when they say that."

"Priestess? Doesn't that kind of mean she can't get married?"

Adam blinked at Megabyte in disbelief, "Have you tried to learn
anything about this world the whole time you've been here?"

"Yeah. How to walk on a ship without falling on my face and how to
shave with a straight edge without slitting my throat."

Adam opened his mouth to comment, then shook his head with a smile.
Until that moment he hadn't realized how much he missed Megabyte and
his wisecracks. "Besides that, Megabyte."

"Not exactly. But it wasn't like I could run over to the library and
check out a book on Stiborn culture and history. I was on a *boat,*
Adam."

"Right." Adam set his drink aside and leaned forward, steepling his
fingers together. "Well I did have the opportunity to run over to the
library - the Palace has its own." Adam ignored the way Megabyte's
eyebrows rose slightly at that announcement, "And I'll tell you one
thing, Megabyte, we are not in Kansas anymore."

"No duh."

"Could be worse though. Right now, Stiborn happens to be one of the
most powerful kingdoms this side of the Spire Mountains and Eternal
Ocean. The only two kingdoms that are even as powerful are Carelle
Ichtung to the east and Albarasque. And Albarasque is very soon to be
our ally."

"Our ally?"

"For what it's worth, Megabyte, right now we are who everyone thinks
we are. You are Lord Marmion Ruele and I'm --" Adam took a breath, he
might have been able to play the role, but saying the words was still
somewhat difficult, "I'm Prince Adam Aldaric."

"And you're going to marry a priestess mage, which I guess is a lot
worse than being married to Jade. At least I know Jade."

"Oh, now you see the positive side."

"Yeah, I guess this is one case where the grass isn't greener on the
other side, huh?"

"Megabyte?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut-up."

*** End of Chapter Thirteen

"You know, I used to think it was awful that life was so unfair. Then
I thought, wouldn't it be much worse if life were fair, and all the
terrible things that happen to us come because we actually deserve
them? So, now I take great comfort in the general hostility and
unfairness of the universe."
       -- Marcus Cole, Babylon 5, A Late Delivery from Avalon

********
a l t e r n a t e REALITIES Fan Fiction Archive
http://www.alternate-realities.net
********




-
 To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com"
 with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message.
 For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send
 "help" to the same address.  Do not use quotes in your message.


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

From: "Michele Bumbarger" <mbumbarg@pair.com>
Subject: (arfic-l) FIC: Eclipse: Darkness Falling (Part 4)
Date: 12 Feb 2001 11:40:28 -0500

Title: Eclipse - Book One: Darkness Falling

Part 4: Chapter Three

Author: Michele Mason Bumbarger

Email: mbumbarg@pair.com

TV Series: Alternate Universe Crossover - Buffy, the Vampire
Slayer/Highlander: The Series/Original Series Tomorrow People and New
Series Tomorrow People

Rating: TV-14, there's a little bit of bad language and it gets
violent in some points, nothing more than you'd catch on prime time
television though

Archive: Only mine (Alternate Realities).

Author's Notes & Comments: See Ramblings in Part 0

Disclaimer: None of these characters, television shows, or concepts
belong to me. The Tomorrow People are the property of Roger Damon
Price, Thames/ITV Television, and Tetra Television. Buffy the Vampire
Slayer characters belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Highlander:
The Series characters belong to Panzer/Davis, Rhysher Entertainment
and Gaumont Television. All are used here without permission and not
for profit. All original characters are the by-product of my own
warped and twisted imagination.

****


Chapter Three

The Centre had it all. The entire upper levels of the place were built
and designed to accommodate every need of those who worked there.
Right now, Adam sat across from his father in a large open-air
restaurant, counting the minutes until this slow and painful torture
had passed. Although, this time, Adam couldn't really complain. This
lunch gathering hadn't been nearly as painful as some others. But that
probably had more to do with the fact that his father spent nearly
every other minute on the telephone and ignoring Adam. Which suited
Adam perfectly well.

He pushed the overcooked vegetables around on his plate and allowed
his eyes to wander across the restaurant. Funny how these doctors and
psychologists and scientists could work here every day, and yet not a
single psi was seen in the restaurant. This restaurant was so
prestigious that the psi's weren't even allowed to work here. Talk
about your double standards.

Adam was glad for the lack of conversation for another reason. He was
still reeling from his run in with Lucy. How many times had he come
here and managed to avoid her? How many times had he gone
intentionally out of his way to avoid her? There was nothing left
between them, all words had been said and all tears had been shed. She
hadn't even waited for him to get home from the lab before moving her
clothes out of their shared flat. But maybe it had been better that
way; their last few weeks together were so volatile, the less contact
they had shared the better off they both were.

He realized now that it wasn't that he was still in love with her but
that he *had* been in love with her. Once, he had thought that he knew
her better than anyone else on the planet. Once, she had shared his
ideas and his convictions. Or so he had thought. He hadn't realized
how easily money and prestige could sway her, or how easily power
could corrupt and change her lofty ideals. It made him feel greatly
disappointed in her . . . and in himself for not being able to see the
true self that she hid.

"So, Adam, how are classes this semester?"

His father's voice pulled Adam from his thoughts and he looked up at
the man across from him. The physical similarities always bothered
him. He didn't want to look like this man, not even the slightest bit
but there was nothing that he could do about it. Physically, he was
his father's son and staring across the table was like staring at
himself in the future. It made him want to be sick.

"Good," Adam answered by rote. "They're going well. I'm teaching two
classes and one honors class."

"Only three classes? Are you having trouble with the physics
department?"

"No, Father, I only want to teach three classes. I wanted some time
this semester to work with Professor Cage and Dr. Emmerling on some
their theoreticals. And I wanted some time to work on my own."

"Adam," Dr. Neiman leaned across the table, feigning concern as only
he could. "I admire your convictions, truly I do. But with your
skills, with that mind of yours, you could be doing so much more. You
think that little facility you have is something? You should see the
facilities we have here at The Centre. Adam -"

Adam rolled his eyes in disgust. It always came back to this. His
father trying to convince him to work at The Centre, to abandon the
one thing that gave him any happiness and satisfaction and become a
government drone. Not just any government drone, but a drone doing
things and following principles that he did not believe in.

"We've been over this, Dad," Adam cut him off abruptly. "Those are
your goals. Not mine. I'm happy teaching. I want to teach. That's why
I became a teacher."

"Teaching? What good is it doing you? Your students, not one of them
has your genius or your potential. You are wasting your time at The
University when you could be doing so much more."

"Like what? Harvesting *slaves*?"

Dr. Neiman's eyes darkened and narrowed dangerously, and Adam knew
that he tread upon very thin ice. "You mind your words, Adam Marcus.
Psi Corporation is the strongest, most profitable and most powerful
corporation in the Unified Alliance. It is the reason that you have
all the things that you have, that you had growing up. It fed you, it
clothed you, and it owns you whether you work here or not. Don't ever
forget that."

"Where do I sign up?" Adam asked darkly. Standing he threw his napkin
on the table and shook his head in undisguised disgust. "I'll talk to
you later, Dad. I have some appointments to keep."

He left, ignoring the angry shouts of his father behind him, ignoring
the questioning and scandalous looks he was given as he stormed out of
the restaurant. Adam walked briskly, clenching his fists at his sides,
hoping and praying that no one and nothing got in his way before he
calmed himself. He didn't want to take his anger with his father out
on an innocent passerby.

No, the inside wall of the elevator sufficed just fine. He pounded the
wall once, twice, three times and kicked it for good measure once the
elevator doors closed behind him. Angry tears stinging his eyes, he
took a few deep breaths and acknowledged that abusing the elevator
really hadn't made him feel any better.

He hated that man. He knew that he should feel some twinge of guilt
for thinking that way, but he didn't. He hated his father. He hated
that man who didn't know him and didn't want to get to know him; who
took every opportunity he could to tell Adam that not only was he a
failure, but why he was a failure. All because he didn't agree with
Dr. Neiman's views and never had.

Adam knew now why he had avoided this lunch date. He now recalled why
he made the excuses and avoided the telephone calls. And this time it
had only taken thirty minutes of agony for him to recall it. Thirty
minutes, an undercooked lunch and some very bruised knuckles.

Stepping out of the elevator on the ground level, Adam looked down at
his knuckles and rubbed them gently. At least they weren't bleeding.
They would definitely be bruised, he would have to see about bandaging
them when he returned to the lab. And he would have to brace himself
for another lecture from Sue Lee about learning to control his temper.
Maybe he wouldn't bandage them after all. He wasn't quite in the mood
for more of Sue Lee's lectures and mother-henning.

But he needed to do something to diffuse the still burning anger
inside of him. Maybe he and Red could head over to the gym and hit the
mats. Failing that, he could always exhaust himself with a few laps
around the pool -

So completely focused on his own thoughts, he didn't notice the
obstacle in his path until he walked right into it. An armload of
books tumbled to the ground among simultaneous exclamations of, "Ow!"

Despite his anger, he forced his politeness and manners to the fore.
"I'm sorry."

"No, it's my fault. I'm sorry."

Rubbing his chin, Adam stared down at the head of dark curls and
sighed. If they kept apologizing to one another, it was going to be
very long day. He knelt down beside her, helping her gather the books.
 "Here, let me at least help you."

"No, you don't have to. It was my fault. It's quite fine, really." She
reached for the scattered books, carefully keeping her distance from
him.

"Four hands make for faster . . . " Adam paused as their hands reached
for the same book and his eyes fell on the thin metallic black band on
her slender wrist. "Work."

She caught his pause, how could she not given what she was and
immediately her hand drew back. She apologized again, gathering up the
last of the books, before standing and speaking to him slowly and with
that submissive tone that reminded him of just how far the levels of
distinction were drawn by Psi Control. "Really, I'm sorry for the
inconvenience. Might I have that back?"

Her head rose slowly, dark eyes slowly rising to focus on him and for
what could have been an eternity or only a few moments, there was
nothing else save for those dark pools that drowned him. Her skin was
a radiant nut brown, ebony curls brushing her shoulders and framing
her oval face while small white teeth bit on her full lower lip as she
stood there, clearly poised on the edge of flight.

God, but she was beautiful.

"Please? My book, sir?" The sound of her voice, made him realize that
he was still standing there, staring at her like he had never a woman
or a psi before and Adam immediately felt himself flush hotly . . .
something he hadn't done in quite a while.

Releasing the breath he hadn't realized he was holding until that
moment, Adam extended the book to her after taking a quick glance at
the title. "Byron. Poetry."

"Yes," she took the book and tucked it into her arms. "I'm sorry
again-"

"Don't," Adam held up a hand to forestall her. "I bumped into you. It
was completely my fault."

He didn't miss or mistake the ripple of surprise that played across
her face at his words. Of course, in this place she wasn't used to
being treated like a real person, with real feelings. She wasn't used
to being given respect.

Not quite knowing how else to respond, she simply nodded. "I have to
go now." She skirted around him, hurrying away from the public gardens
towards the safety of the inner living area of The Centre.

"Wait," Adam turned and followed her, quickly insinuating himself in
her path. Later he would wonder what insanity possessed him, but at
that moment he didn't really care. He wasn't really doing anything
wrong. The gardens were open to everyone - it wasn't as if he was
talking to her within the inner walls of The Centre. "Who are you?"

A pause, and then with resignation, "Beta two zero one seven."

It took Adam a moment to realize that she was giving him her Psi
Control designation.

"No," he shook his head, "I meant, what's your name?"

Another pause, and for a moment, he thought that she wouldn't answer.
Then, quietly, "Amelie."

"Amelie," Adam repeated. "That's a beautiful name."

"Thank you."

"Well, Amelie, I'm Adam." He extended his hand again, this time in
introduction, giving her what he hoped was the most open and friendly
smile that he could. "It's nice to meet you."

Disbelief flickered across her features as her eyes darted from his
outstretched hand to his face and back again. Then, very slowly, as if
she was afraid that he would bite her or sting her, her hand rose and
clasped his.  "It's nice to meet you too."

Her hand was warm and soft. Like her eyes and her voice. Adam felt his
smile widen. "You know, I don't bite."

She almost smiled back. Almost. Suddenly she seemed to recall that
they were breaking every rule of social etiquette even if they weren't
breaking any laws. She jerked her hand back stiffly, bristling like a
threatened animal. "I have to go."

And then she was gone, running her identification bracelet over the
door and disappearing into the heart of The Centre.

*** End of Chapter Three

"You know, I used to think it was awful that life was so unfair. Then
I thought, wouldn't it be much worse if life were fair, and all the
terrible things that happen to us come because we actually deserve
them? So, now I take great comfort in the general hostility and
unfairness of the universe."
       -- Marcus Cole, Babylon 5, A Late Delivery from Avalon

********
a l t e r n a t e REALITIES Fan Fiction Archive
http://www.alternate-realities.net
********



-
 To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com"
 with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message.
 For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send
 "help" to the same address.  Do not use quotes in your message.


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

From: Mandi Ohlin <alo1@students.hood.edu>
Subject: (arfic-l) "Slow Night" (1/1)
Date: 11 Feb 2001 16:59:25 -0500

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

-
 To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com"
 with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message.
 For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send
 "help" to the same address.  Do not use quotes in your message.


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

From: Mandi Ohlin <alo1@students.hood.edu>
Subject: Re: (arfic-l) "Slow Night" (1/1)
Date: 11 Feb 2001 17:40:53 -0500

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

Title: Slow Night
Author: Mandi Ohlin
E-mail: weird_web@hotmail.com (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

-
 To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com"
 with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message.
 For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send
 "help" to the same address.  Do not use quotes in your message.


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

From: "Michele Bumbarger" <mbumbarger@neo.rr.com>
Subject: (arfic-l) FIC: Worlds Away (Part 12a/??)
Date: 12 Feb 2001 23:17:26 -0500

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: mbumbarg@pair.com

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?

****



-
 To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com"
 with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message.
 For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send
 "help" to the same address.  Do not use quotes in your message.


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

From: "Michele Bumbarger" <mbumbarger@neo.rr.com>
Subject: (arfic-l) FIC: Worlds Away (12b/??)
Date: 12 Feb 2001 23:19:47 -0500

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

Author: M. Bumbarger

Email: mbumbarg@pair.com

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



-
 To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com"
 with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message.
 For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send
 "help" to the same address.  Do not use quotes in your message.


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

From: Ailie McFarland <aixla@juno.com>
Subject: (arfic-l) Strangers 1/1 PG
Date: 16 Feb 2001 01:08:31 -0500 (EST)

&#65279;Title: Strangers 1/1
Author: Ailie McFarland
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Buffy: Crush / Angel: Thin Dead Line (i.e. this weeks eps)
Summary: Angel receives a surprise visit from a concerned friend.
Feedback: Hello, you=92ve reached Ailie=92s ego. I=92m not in right now, bu=
t if you=92d leave me a
message about this story, I=92d really appreciate it!
Archives: http://www.geocities.com/aixla
Distribution: If it helps at all, I=92m gonna say yes.
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy, Angel or any other characters. If I did the=
ir lives would be a lot
happier ... most of the time.

Author=92s note: Something tells me I stand a good chance of =93being Josse=
d=94 on this one ...


She was there when I woke up. That in and of itself isn=92t all that unusua=
l; I often dream of her lying in my bed. Usually when that happens I see he=
r as she was on that night that never existed. That peaceful, content look =
she had as she slept is something that I will never forget. But tonight it =
wasn=92t like that. Instead, she was standing in the doorway of my room, br=
ow slightly furrowed.

=93Buffy?=94 My sleep addled mind began to fuzzily grasp the concept that t=
his wasn=92t a dream. =93How long have you been here?=94

She offered a small smile. =93Not long. A few minutes, maybe. I just didn=
=92t want to wake you.=94

I grabbed my shirt from the bedpost and shrugged into it as quickly as poss=
ible. Not that I have anything she=92s never seen before, but the last thin=
g we need right now is to tempt the fates. =93What are you doing in L.A.?=
=94

=93Drusilla.=94 That one word caught my full attention. =93She arrived in S=
unnydale on a train from L.A. a few days ago.=94

=93Casualties?=94

Buffy just nodded. =93She told Spike about everything that=92s been going o=
n here, so when she left I thought I should call and give you the head=92s =
up. Only when I called I got a message saying the
phone for the office had been disconnected. So I called Cordelia at home ..=
.=94

I sat back down on the edge of the bed. =93And she told you what=92s been h=
appening here.=94

=93Some of it,=94 Buffy shifted her glance down to the floor. =93They fille=
d me on the rest when I went to see Wesley at the hospital.=94

=93How=92s he doing?=94 I hated not being able to go and see for myself, bu=
t as Cordelia so eloquently put it the last time I tried, they don=92t need=
 me. And she was right. They are better off without me.

=93He=92ll be alright,=94 she was still staring at the floorboards as if th=
e meaning of life was hidden between them. =93He=92s out of ICU now, but it=
=92ll probably be a few more days before they let him
go home.=94

Silence descended. Time is so strange. It used to be that when I was with h=
er the time flew right by, and now each second feels like an eternity in an=
d of itself. Finally she crossed the room and took a seat in the over-stuff=
ed easy chair beside the bed. =93Angel, they=92re worried about you.=94 She=
 paused before continuing. =93I=92m worried about you.=94

Her hair cascaded down over her shoulders as she leaned toward me, remindin=
g me of the first time I ever saw her. Buffy had been so innocent then, wav=
ing to her friends as she sucked on that ridiculous lollipop. Her hair had =
been longer then, only a little longer than it was now. Had I really been g=
one that long?=20

The flood of repressed emotions and memories surprised me, and I lashed out=
. =93What would your boyfriend do if he knew you said that to me?=94 As soo=
n as the words were out I regretted them. How can I have lived so long with=
out learning not to let my mouth run ahead of my brain?

The expression that crossed her face at the mention of that name sent the k=
nife of regret even deeper into un-beating heart. Something had happened be=
tween them. =93Riley went back to the
military.=94=20

I knew better than to push further than that. I reached out to touch her ha=
nd. =93Look, I=92m ...=94

=93Forget about it.=94 Buffy mumbled as she pulled away, leaning back in th=
e chair. I had ruined things again. I seem to be getting pretty good at tha=
t, these days.

After a moment, Buffy broke the silence again. =93I=92m sorry. About Darla.=
 I know how hard it was the first time you had to ...=94

=93Kill her?=94 I stood up and began to pace the length of the room. =93You=
 can say it, you know. I won=92t go crazy because you said the K word.=94

Buffy stood. =93No, I=92m not afraid I=92ll drive you crazy. I think you=92=
re already half-way there.=94

=93Imagine that!=94 I threw my hands up in the air. This was all beginning =
to sound very familiar. =93In case they left out this part of the story, I=
=92ve got an entire law firm being *paid* to do
that.=94

=93I know about the lawyers.=94 Buffy was yelling now. =93I know about the =
tricks. I know about how they gave Darla to you and then took her away agai=
n. But I also know you. And I know that you
can ...=94

I turned mid-stride and caught her by the arm. =93No you don=92t! Not anymo=
re. You don=92t know me any better than Gunn, or Wesley, or Cordelia knows =
me. You can=92t know me because even I don=92t know me anymore! All I know =
is that Darla is here and it=92s my responsibility to take care of her.=94

=93Why?=94 Buffy wrenched her arm free from my grasp, and I could see red m=
arks where my fingers had pressed into her skin. =93Why is it your responsi=
bility? Is this your atonement? Your
way of punishing yourself? Where does it say that you have to go up against=
 this without help?=94

I pointed toward my chest. =93Right here. Because I care about them too muc=
h to let them get stuck in my mess. And because there are people that they =
can help. I can=92t do that any more! I
just can=92t.=94

And suddenly it was quiet again. Buffy=92s eyes looked into mine, and I cou=
ld tell she was searching for the Angel that she knew. I felt like shaking =
her and showing her that he doesn=92t live here anymore ... but I knew she =
could see that for herself. The look in her eyes was almost the same look I=
 remember from being Angelus. One of utter disbelief. But this time there w=
as something else there as well. Something I couldn=92t quite read. I can=
=92t remember the last time I looked at her and didn=92t know what she was =
thinking.

Without a word she turned and walked out the way she came in. At the doorwa=
y she paused, and turned to look at me one last time. I half expected her t=
o say something like =93Call me if you
change your mind,=94 but she didn=92t. She just turned and left.

I guess we=92ve both changed more than we realized.

FIN



-
 To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com"
 with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message.
 For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send
 "help" to the same address.  Do not use quotes in your message.


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

From: Worlds Away <worldsaway2001@yahoo.com>
Subject: (arfic-l) FIC: Worlds Away (14/??)
Date: 18 Feb 2001 20:02:09 -0800 (PST)

Title: Worlds Away (Part 14/??)

Author: M. Bumbarger

Email: worldsaway2001@yahoo.com

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 demonstrating my absent
minded-ness with the earlier posting of Parts 12 & 13
:-)

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 Fourteen

"Is my lady certain that she does not wish a heavier
cloak? It is a bit cool this afternoon. The sky looks
like rain."

Gripping her many layers of skirts in both hands, Jade
drew to a sudden and complete stop halfway down the
staircase. She even managed to not smirk when Sarena
faltered and nearly stumbled forward before quickly
stepping back to be on the same step with the Lady
Jadina of House Ruele. The first twelve hours of
having a maidservant had been absolutely wonderful and
Jade had basked in the attention she received from the
other girl; nearly twenty-four hours later, she was
very tired of the fawning and hovering and would have
given her right arm to have the girl out of her hair
for a even a few hours. Particularly when Sarena's
presence greatly reduced her opportunities to talk
with Adam and Megabyte; while her two friends had been
locked in Lord Bial's study, Sarena had insisted that
her lady receive a bath, a hair washing, and a
pampering that could only have been completed at a
spa. That hadn't been so bad, but over dinner Jade had
been positively dying to speak to Adam, but surrounded
as they had been by everyone else, it had not
happened. 

Breakfast had been no different, and immediately
following the morning meal she had been swept off by
Lady Margot to discuss the preparations for the
prince's bride. Not that Jade had been allowed to
contribute much to the conversation or decision
making; mostly she had the privilege of nodding,
smiling and agreeing with every word and decision that
Lady Margot made. 

Supper again left them surrounded by servants and
listening ears that they could not expose themselves
to. Jade was left looking glumly forward to another
few hours of following around and mimicking every word
that Lady Margot said until Adam saved her. It was
Adam who had suggested an afternoon ride with "one of
my more prettier cousins," and of course, not even the
Lady Margot would argue with the High Prince of
Stiborn. 

Well, she didn't argue very strenuously.

Now, the only problem was getting Sarena out of her
hair long enough for her to have some privacy with her
friends.

"No, Sarena, I do not want a heavier cloak. I do not
want a hooded cloak. I don't want thicker gloves, I
don't want to change into heavier stockings, and I am
absolutely positive that this *is* the riding dress
that I want to wear."

Sarena blinked, and Jade winced inwardly. Clearly,
*her* Lady Jadina did not speak so openly; obviously
not, or Jade would not have spent most of the morning
serving as Lady Margot's parrot. Sarena recovered
quickly however, and nodded, her hands coming up to
straighten Jade's cloak, "I'm sorry, Jade. It's just
that having you away for so long - we haven't been
separated that long since we were small girls. Not
even your wedding trip lasted as long. I don't know
what to do with myself if I'm not taking care of you."

Jade sighed, immediately regretting her harsh tone. As
odd as it was, sometimes it was hard to remember that
this was not her world, and this was only a role she
was playing until she could find her way home again.
She tried to put herself in Sarena's shoes, and
wondered what she would do if their situations were
reversed - if she had been raised to be a
lady-in-waiting; and realized she would quite probably
be driving the lady of the manor insane as well - only
true noble bred ladies wouldn't find the attention
overwhelming at all. 

"I'm sorry, Sarena," Jade paused, only a heartbeat,
and covered it by stepping forward. She didn't know if
she *should* apologize, if that was ever done, and she
didn't dare look at Sarena's face to confirm or deny.
"I just hated being on a boat and I'm a little
overexcited to see Prince Adam." There, neither of
those were lies.

"I don't see why I couldn't come along," Sarena
accepted the words without question, linking her arm
gently around Jade's as the two descended the steps
together. "Eris knows that you couldn't have had much
fun with your husband - pardon me for speaking ill of
him, Jade - for company."

The words raised Jade's curiosity, as much this time
as they had the first. One thing that she had observed
these past two weeks was that everyone seemed to give
Lady Jadina some small measure of pity for being
married to Lord Marmion. Even his parents went out of
their way to shower her with kindness and attention,
as though they didn't expect her to receive it from
any other corner. Not that Jade would have expected
any sort of affection from Megabyte; it did strike her
as peculiar that obviously the relationship that Lady
Jadina shared with Lord Marmion was no better than
that Jade shared with her fellow Tomorrow Person. And
judging from the comments, at least Jade was lucky
enough to have Megabyte's friendship; Jadina had not
even that.

Thinking about it, Jade felt a pang of sorrow for the
girl whose life she had taken over. An incurable
romantic, it was hard for Jade to imagine being thrown
into a marriage that was not based on anything other
than land and titles. A loveless marriage that was
certainly a horrible thing to have to deal with, and
Jade actually found herself truly grateful for
Megabyte's friendship. Even if he did still see her as
annoying kid, at least he had not brushed her off
these past two weeks; he had actually made her safe
and reminded her that she was not alone.

"It wasn't so bad," Jade spoke aloud without meaning
to, and catching the startled wide-eyed look Sarena
threw in her direction, she hurried on. "I mean, I
think he's coming around to things, accepting them. I
think we might even be friends someday."

Another not quite a lie and how quickly Jade was able
to spit them out.

Sarena's very unladylike snort betrayed her feelings
on that matter. "I love you like a sister, Jade, and
you have always been good to me. That is why I will
tell you this - do not hold your breath, or you will
be holding it until the moon falls from the sky. Lord
Marmion is a heartless, spoiled brat who doesn't come
close to deserving you for a wife."

"Maybe not," Jade sighed, patting the hand at her
elbow, "But I still have to try."

"I know," Sarena squeezed Jade's arm, "You are too
sweet and wonderful to do any less."

The words warmed Jade, although as her hand brushed
against Sarena's she had felt -- something -- a
twisting, bitterness beyond the words. But it was gone
as quickly as Jade sensed it and she could only
attribute it to Sarena's clear and obvious dislike of
Lord Marmion Ruele.

They continued on in silence, sweeping into the
stables where Adam and Megabyte already waited for her
arrival. Three horses had been brought forwarded and
were saddled, and not a groomsman or stable hand was
in sight. Half-hidden from sight, Adam fussed with the
saddle on a sable colored horse, while Megabyte fussed
with his riding gloves. Both of them seemed oblivious
to her arrival, so Jade cleared her throat loudly.

"Hello."

It was enough. Adam smiled at her from beneath the
horse, "Hello, Jadina. Will your lady being joining
us?" Although the words were friendly, Jade caught the
subtle undertones in Adam's voice and both on his
face.

She quickly shook her head, but was spared answering
by Sarena, who dipped quickly into a low curtsy, "No,
Your Highness. I was just walking a bit with my lady.
I trust that she is in good hands."

"I give you my full reassurance that she can not be in
any better hands," Adam responded with a charming
smile, his attention fully riveted on Sarena.

Jade had known girls like Sarena, girls who could turn
boys into drooling, slobbering, inanely babbling
morons with just a smile and the batting of eyelashes.
Usually, she found a reason to dislike those girls;
usually they were either so simple-minded or stuck on
themselves that they were easy to dislike. Sarena
however, was neither simple-minded nor egotistical,
and Jade could only stare at the other girl with envy
as she watched even Adam fall prey to Sarena's charms.


Most of which were apparently oozing out of her
bodice.

Meow, Jade chided herself. She squared her shoulders,
"You weren't waiting long were you?"

"Does it matter?" Megabyte asked sourly. Oddly enough,
Jade noticed he was doing everything in his power to
*not* look at Sarena.

Megabyte's response was enough to pull Adam's
attention from Sarena and fix the other Tomorrow
Person with a glare. Yet, somehow his words still
remained warm and affectionate, directed at Jade. "No,
you're right on time."

"I'll be going," Sarena's smile could have lit the
entire stable, and probably very well did as she gave
a respective curtsy again to Adam - this one not as
deep this time, thank goodness - and turned to place
an affectionate kiss on Jade's cheek. "Do be careful,
and if rains, do you very best to keep try. We can't
have you taking ill when His Highness' fiancée will be
here any day now, can we?"

"Stop fretting," Jade ordered, but smiled anyway. It
was hard to not smile.

Adam presented Jade with the reins of a chestnut mare
when Sarena was out of earshot. "This one is yours,
Lady Jadina. Her name is Quesella."

Jade smile at the creature, slowly stroking the thick
mane. "She's beautiful. How did you find out which one
was mine?"

"You just have to know what questions to ask and who
to ask them of," Adam shrugged. "Trust me, it's
becoming a lot easier to find out anything I've ever
wanted to know about Stiborn without looking like I've
lost my mind."

"Yeah, maybe that's because they already know that
you've lost your mind," Megabyte sniggered.

"Whatever, Megabyte," Adam rolled his eyes in the
direction of the redhead. 

"So, Jade can you even ride a horse?" Megabyte asked.

Jade flinched at the sarcastic tone of his voice.
Folding her arms across her chest, she glared at him,
"Can you?"

He paled, and the look on his face was answer enough
for her. She smiled smugly. "I used to take riding
lessons when I was little. I think that I will manage
well enough."

"And you think I won't?"

[Do you think the two of you can try not arguing until
we're away from the Keep?] Adam's chastisement rang
out in her head, [You two don't sound anything like a
lord and lady. You sound like two kids.]

[News flash, Adam. We're not a lord and lady.]

[Until we get out of here, you better learn to be.] 
The words left no room for argument.

The saddling up and ride from the stables was
undertaken mostly in silence. Jade could tell that
Megabyte was sulking - he clearly didn't like the way
Adam had dressed him down with a few words - and he
also clearly was about as uncomfortable on a horse as
he would have been with wings attached to his back.
Jade would have laughed at his shifting in the saddle
and the way he clung to the saddle horn, if she had
not been so busy getting her bearing back. Only Adam
seemed relatively at ease, but Jade recalled that Adam
had the pleasure of being land locked for the past two
weeks.

"So, what do you think is going on, Adam?" Jade
finally gained enough control to edge her horse up
besides Adam's, the Keep far enough away from them for
them to speak openly.

Adam laughed. Not a laugh of humor, but a sad, soft
laugh of confusion. He shook his head, "I've been
trying to figure that out since I got here, Jade. And
unfortunately, I'm no closer to an answer now than I
was then."

"Maybe it's magic," Megabyte volunteered thoughtfully.


Adam glanced back at the Tomorrow Person who lagged
behind them. "Oh, yesterday you were treating me like
I was a nutter and today you believe me?"

"Not one hundred percent, but," Megabyte shrugged, "If
there is a such thing as magic, then maybe that's what
brought us here."

Jade looked from one to the other, truly lamenting
that she had not been privy to the conversation and
reunion in Lord Bial's study. "What's this about
magic?"

"Adam thinks that Merlin is here."

Adam ignored the comment and addressed Jade directly.
"This world has magic, Jade. Real magic. And all of
Megabyte's smart-ass comments aside, he might have a
point. I know that thing I saw on the beach couldn't
have been natural."

"But why us? And why here?" Jade asked. 

"And where's Ami?" 

Megabyte's question bathed Jade in an ocean of guilt
and shame. She hadn't even thought about their missing
friend since their first few days here; and, she had
been so ecstatically happy to see Adam that she still
had not really focused on Ami's absence. Here she was
so worried about herself, and so wound up in her own
world that she had forgotten all about Ami. What if
Ami was here and she was totally and completely alone
with none of them around? And she didn't have the
pleasure of being royalty like Adam or at least
"married" like Jade and Megabyte. What if she was a
servant that wasn't appreciated, or she was a trapped
in a horrible marriage to a man with seven wives --

"Jade," Adam's hand on her arm pulled her from her
spiraling thoughts, a soft comforting smile on his
lips, "It's all right. I'm sure that wherever Ami is,
she's fine. She can handle herself pretty well.
There's a good chance that she's not even here at
all."

Jade paled. Had she been speaking aloud? It was a
wonder that Megabyte wasn't teasing her mercilessly.

"No," Adam responded to her unspoken thoughts, "But
you were broadcasting pretty loudly there."

"And can you really imagine Ami trapped in a horrible
marriage or something? She'd probably have her husband
running scared within twenty-four hours," Megabyte
laughed. 

"But she could be here, I mean, we don't know that
she's not here --"

"I think, that for now, we need to operate on the
premise that she isn't here," Adam cut her off before
she could lose herself in a panic and guilt again.
"Personally, it makes me feel a lot better to think
that she's back on earth, trying to find a way to get
us back."

"Yeah, because if she is here, and we can't sense her,
then who knows what could be happening to her?"
Megabyte added as he finally managed to exert some
control over his horse and maneuver it on the other
side of Jade's.

Adam glared at him across Jade's horse. "Thank you,
Megabyte. Let's try not to be overwhelming with the
comforting."

Despite his tone, Jade sensed the discomfort and worry
that had already begun to gnaw at Adam. He always took
so much on his shoulders, trying to be the strong one,
and this time was no different. He was far more
worried about Ami - or rather Ami's absence - than he
wanted to let on to either of them. 

Jade reached out and patted his hand, hoping to convey
her own comfort. "She's okay."

Adam gave her a smile that didn't quite touch his
eyes, "I know she is. Besides, wherever she is, at
least she isn't married to Megabyte, right?"

"Oh, you're real funny, Adam. Like being married to
Jade is a picnic?"

Jade stuck her tongue out at him.

The teasing banter lightened the mood - if only a
small bit.

"I think the most important thing right now, is that
we act as normal as possible," Adam said after a
while. "We have to be who everyone thinks we are. And
in the meantime, we need to find out anything we can
about that portal that we saw. I can research at the
Palace, there maybe something in a book somewhere,
some kind of spell or something."

"And what should we do?" Megabyte asked.

"Ask around. Listen," Adam looked over at the two of
them. "Servants talk and gossip, and sometimes they
know a lot more than you think they do. They might be
full of rumor and superstition, but even superstition
comes from somewhere.

"The worse that can happen is that we're still stuck
here in a month and a half and I end up married."

*** End of Chapter Fourteen

 


=====
*********************************************
Worlds Away
http://www.alternate-realities.net/worldsaway
*********************************************

__________________________________________________
Do You Yahoo!?
Get personalized email addresses from Yahoo! Mail - only $35 
a year!  http://personal.mail.yahoo.com/

-
 To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com"
 with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message.
 For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send
 "help" to the same address.  Do not use quotes in your message.


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

From: Worlds Away <worldsaway2001@yahoo.com>
Subject: (arfic-l) FIC: Worlds Away (15/??)
Date: 18 Feb 2001 20:04:31 -0800 (PST)

Title: Worlds Away (Part 15/??)

Author: M. Bumbarger

Email: worldsaway2001@yahoo.com

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 Mandi just because I enjoyed "Slow
Night" so very much!

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 Fifteen

Adam rode along thoughtfully behind his friends. The
afternoon ride had gone well - and one good thing
about being the prince was that no one questioned his
motives, or odd requests. If the High Prince wanted to
ride alone with his cousin and his cousin's wife, then
no one tried to stop or question him. Well, if you
didn't count the almost half-hearted protest that Lady
Margot gave when it was clear that Adam would be
wresting Lady Jadina from under her wing.

Getting rid of Hagen had been easy; the man needed no
encouragement to find his own amusements. To Adam's
surprise, getting rid of Stewart had not been all that
difficult either. Despite seeing ambush and assassins
in every corner, evidently Stewart was convinced that
Lord Marmion had no intentions of sticking a dagger
into Adam's ribcage. Adam might not have been so
certain about that if he hadn't known that the current
incarnation of Lord Marmion really wouldn't have any
such motive and couldn't have attempted to kill Adam
even had he wanted to.

Of course, soothing his fears about Megabyte and Jade
had only created new ones -- or rather, a new one.
Ami. Was she here? Was she on earth? He had no way of
knowing; after all, he hadn't truly been able to sense
Megabyte and Jade from a distance, so Ami would be no
different. And if she was here, this world was not
small - could they ever hope to find her? Random
chance led to him Jade and Megabyte and Adam held on
fervently to the hope that random chance might lead
them to Ami as well.

Forcing thoughts of their absent Tomorrow Person
aside, Adam reined in his horse and looked to Megabyte
again. He could still see the hurt and sting in Jade's
eyes when the other had announced that he *needed* to
speak to Adam alone before they returned, and he did
feel for her. Despite the fact that Megabyte and Jade
were getting along better than they ever had before,
and far better than Adam would have expected under the
circumstances, some things still had not changed. 

"So, what was so important that you had to send Jade
away first?" As much as he hated to admit it, Adam was
curious about what precisely was on Megabyte's mind.

"I'm having an affair," Megabyte said. Actually, he
blurted the words so that they all ran together
sounding more like 'Imhavinganaffair,' and it took
Adam a moment to translate. Then, as a red that
matched Megabyte's hair filled his face, the other
continued, "I mean, not me. Marmion. Marmion is -- was
-- having an affair."

If Megabyte hadn't looked so positively miserable and
scandalized by the confession, Adam might have
laughed. He didn't know what he had been expecting his
friend to say, but that certainly had not been it.

Not that Adam was surprised by that sort of news about
Marmion. His conversations with Hagen, a few sketchy
notes in the prince's private journals, and the
general attitude he picked up on from those around him
told Adam that Lord Marmion was not a pillar of
virtue. Hagen had even openly commented en route to
Elspera Keep that he hoped that some time spent with
Lady Jadina might have persuaded Marmion to only seek
entertainments in his marriage bed. 

Adam was under the definite impression that the only
reason the prince and Hagen tolerated Marmion at all
was because they had grown up with the young man, and
he was *their* cousin.

"How exactly did you find this out?" Adam thought it
was better not to mention that there was no need to be
so secretive. Hagen knew of Marmion's infidelities, as
did Stewart. And, as he had told Jade and Megabyte
earlier, servants are far more observant than given
credit for and they did tend to gossip.

"She - she - she kissed me!" Megabyte blurted the
words out, going even redder than Adam would have
imagined. "I mean, there I was, chaining clothes and
she just walked into my bedroom and kissed me!"

"Somehow, Megabyte, I never thought you would object
to a pretty girl kissing you," Adam teased. "She is
pretty?"

"Yes! But that's not the point. The point is that I'm
Marmion, and he's married and he's a complete jerk."

"Well, then this is your opportunity to change that,
Megabyte."

"And you know what the worst part is? She acts like
nothing happened!"

"That is usually the case with affairs --"

"She just went on, doting on Jade like she hadn't been
attacking me earlier. You saw her, Adam, she treats
*Lady Jadina* like she's the best thing on earth and
then she turns around and screws her husband. What
kind of woman does that?"

It took Adam's brain a moment to catch up with
Megabyte's tirade. As it did, the pieces of the puzzle
clicked into the place - the cold glares Adam had
thought he was only imagining that Megabyte gave to
Sarena, or the way he thought that Sarena had spent
far more time than she should have with her eyes on
*Lord Marmion.* "Sarena? You're having an affair with
Sarena?"

"No. Marmion is having an affair with Sarena. I'm
being molested by Sarena." Megabyte glowered, "Legan
knows too. Legan knows and even he doesn't do anything
about it. He just treats me like I'm dirt."

"No offense, but from what I know of Marmion Ruele, he
is dirt," Adam said. He held up a hand to forestall
any outbursts from Megabyte. "I know you're not him,
and I'm glad that you're not nearly the jackass that
he seems to be. Maybe that's the one good thing that
can come of us being here -- you can give Marmion a
personality makeover."

Megabyte scowled. "And what do I do about Sarena?"

"Whatever you want." Adam shifted in his saddle. "Is
that why you sent Jade away, so she wouldn't find out
about this?"

"What was I supposed to do? Let her know that the
*Lady Jadina* is being totally taken advantage of and
being made a fool of by her lady in waiting? Come on,
Adam, Jade and I may not get along, but I'm not going
to do that to her. At least I wasn't going to until I
actually figured out what to do about it."

"And what are you going to do about it?" Adam tilted
his head thoughtfully. "Better yet, what do you want
to do about it?"

"What do you mean?" The redhead appeared genuinely
confused.

"Well, Megabyte, you do have Sarena's attention. And,
as you pointed out to me, she is very . . .
beautiful," Adam stumbled over the description because
beautiful did not even begin to describe her. The
woman gave off vibes that would set men to one
another's throats for her attention if she so desired
it; the fact that she knew it did very little to
dampen her attractiveness and appeal. Women like
Sarena were dangerous; wars had been rumored to start
over less. 

"Are you saying that I should --" Megabyte stared at
him with absolute incredulity.

Adam held up his hand, "I'm not saying anything,
Megabyte. I'm asking you what your feelings are. What
do you want to do about Sarena? And shipping her back
to the Palace with me is not an option, so don't even
suggest it." 

Megabyte was quiet for a while, chin resting on his
the heel of his hand while he seriously contemplated
the question. "I don't know. I mean, it's like, it
wouldn't be right you know?"

"Consider me the devil's advocate. Why wouldn't' that
be right?"

"Well, for starters, I'm married."

"Marmion is married," Adam corrected him.

"And I'm Marmion. And you’re the prince … and now do
you see how screwy this all is? I'm *married* and even
if it is to Jade, it just doesn't seem right. Besides,
it would really hurt Jade's feelings if she found out.
I think she actually likes Sarena."

Adam raised an eyebrow, but decided not to comment on
Megabyte's concern with hurting Jade's feelings. It
certainly wasn't something his friend had concerned
himself with back on earth; maybe being trapped alone
with Jade for two weeks had done Megabyte and Jade's
friendship some real good. "So?"

"Do you think she'll just go away if I tell her to?"

Adam laughed, the first genuine laugh since they began
their ride. "You're *Lord Marmion Ruele,* she has no
choice. You could tell her to go the capital and play
in carriage traffic and while she may not follow
through, she certainly couldn't tell you 'no.' "

Megabyte considered it, "What if she doesn't go away?"

"You're a smart boy, Megabyte. You'll figure something
out."

***End of Chapter Fifteen


=====
*********************************************
Worlds Away
http://www.alternate-realities.net/worldsaway
*********************************************

__________________________________________________
Do You Yahoo!?
Get personalized email addresses from Yahoo! Mail - only $35 
a year!  http://personal.mail.yahoo.com/

-
 To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com"
 with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message.
 For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send
 "help" to the same address.  Do not use quotes in your message.


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

From: Worlds Away <worldsaway2001@yahoo.com>
Subject: (arfic-l) FIC: Worlds Away (16a/??)
Date: 25 Feb 2001 19:52:15 -0800 (PST)

Title: Worlds Away (Part 16a/??)

Author: M. Bumbarger

Email: worldsaway2001@yahoo.com

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.

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 Sixteen

In one way, Adam had been absolutely correct -
Megabyte did think of a way to deal with Sarena. For
what it lacked in creativity and originality, it made
up for in the directness of the approach. Put simply,
Megabyte went out of his way to avoid the woman.
Which, surprisingly enough in a keep the size of
Elspera was not an easy thing to do. It seemed to him
that if he wasn't spending time with Adam and Hagen,
and Sarena wasn't attending Jade, then she had a
curious knack of appearing wherever Megabyte happened
to be.

It was making him incredibly uncomfortable and more
than a little guilty. The guilt only made him angry,
because he knew that it was guilt that he had no
reason to feel. Still, it did not change the fact that
Sarena did not seem to get the hint. It was obvious
that the woman was used to having her way with men,
and that Lord Marmion was no exception, and she seemed
unable to accept that while he was away in the
northern provinces some thing had changed between
them.

Namely, Megabyte noted to himself as he checked the
saddle and bit on his horse, that *Lord Marmion*
gained a conscience. 

Whatever. It didn't matter. Sarena was currently out
of sight, if not out of mind, and as far as he knew,
she was performing her duties of tending to Jade hand
over foot. Although Sarena's behavior towards Lady
Jadina bothered Megabyte more than he would have ever
said aloud, he did and said nothing to change it.
After all, what he could he say?  

"Hey Jade, your lady-in-waiting is a two-faced
back-stabbing skank?" 

All right, so he could say that, but it wouldn't do a
particular lot of good. Jade probably wouldn't believe
him anyway, especially when Sarena was also honey
goodness to her lady Jadina. And from what Megabyte
had managed to figure out, things were a bit more
complicated than that. Sarena had been raised by Lady
Jadina's side, raised to be her companion and personal
maidservant, and before coming to Elspera Keep, the
two had been closer than sisters. 

The knowledge that Megabyte gleaned from some of
Marmion's older journals and correspondence, and from
simply taking Adam's advice and trying to listen to
servant gossip, was that the wedding had almost not
happened because Marmion had not wanted his new bride
to bring any 'trappings' of her old house with her.
That included servants. Marmion felt that if he was
going to be forced to wed the child Jadina that she
would start off their marriage as not only his wife,
but his subject in Elspera Keep, a member of House
Ruele with no other ties or linkage. Fortunately, Lady
Margot had stepped in, and with a quiet word to Queen
Carrina, Sarena, and two other ladies-in-waiting and
one steward had joined House Ruele with the marriage.

"My lord, you are going riding?"

Megabyte glanced over the back of his horse to meet
the curious, and somewhat contemptuous glare of Legan.
How Marmion ever managed to get stuck with a personal
valet that seemed to loath even being in his presence,
was one of those mysteries that Megabyte had not
figured out yet.

"Yes, Legan. I am going riding."

"Alone?"

Megabyte bit back the very smart-ass retort that
immediately painted itself on the tip of his tongue.
He was trying his hardest to not make waves, to show a
different, kinder, gentler side of Marmion Ruele, but
Legan did not always make it easy. "Yes, alone. It
gives me a chance to think."

That wasn't necessarily a lie. During the time that
Adam had been at the Keep, and Megabyte sorely missed
his old friend even if the elder was only a telepathic
call away, the two of them had discovered that if they
wanted privacy, the best way to find it was on
horseback. Marmion and the prince had gone riding
quite frequently, and after the first few days of fear
and soreness, Megabyte had actually become accustomed
to riding a horse. He would still prefer a motorized
vehicle any day of the week, but he, and his horse,
Brazar, did get along much better these days.

"Is your father aware that you are taking leave? I was
under the impression that --"

"My *father* decided that he had some business to
attend to at the Palace and that I could be given one
day where I did not have to oversee everything. That
is why he has the Duke of Rigora in his service as
well."  Listening to himself talk, Megabyte shook his
head slightly and returned his attention to Brazar. A
few weeks ago, he would never have spoken with such
formality, but it seemed that this world was growing
on him. The only times of late that he allowed himself
to be just Megabyte was when he was alone with Adam,
who was back at the Lion Palace, or Jade, whom
Megabyte was lucky to see at meals or for an hour or
so before they retired to their separate sleeping
quarters.

"I did not mean to imply that my lord was shirking his
duties."

Megabyte yanked on the saddle strap. "Yes. You did."

Their eyes met and held, a silent war of wills. Legan
did not correct the accusation, but rather than push
the envelope even further, Megabyte let it go. He
didn't want to deal with it right now.

He also did not wish to deal with the sultry, feminine
voice that called out from the stable entrance, "My
lord?"

The words "Go away, Sarena," somehow seemed childish,
so Megabyte did not say them. Instead, he chose an
equally childish way of dealing with her - he ignored
her.

"I assume you come bearing a missive from the Lady
Jadina?" Legan asked, the disgust apparent in his
voice. Megabyte noticed, belatedly, that the stable
hands and groomsmen had made themselves scarce when
Sarena appeared.

Great, he had a starring role in a soap opera.

"I was out merely out walking and noticed that milord
was out as well," Sarena dismissed Legan with a toss
of her head, gliding towards Megabyte and Brazar. "I
was wondering if my lord would be in need of anything
before going on what is surely to be a most lonely and
tiresome ride?"

Megabyte looked at her, and nearly broke into peals of
laughter when his next words froze her in mid-stride.
"Where is my wife, Sarena? Shouldn't you be at her
side?"

Until that moment, Megabyte had not thought that it
would be possible to see Sarena unnnerved, her usual
poise and grace slipping away as her eyes widened to
the size of saucers. She clutched her hands in front
of her, blinking at him and drew a sharp breath. "She
is with the Lady Margot. In the kitchens."

Megabyte watied, and when it became clear that Sarena
would say no more, he prodded her. "And what is she
doing there?"

Sarena now stared at him as though he had sprouted
another head, and even Legan showed a bit of concern,
although Megabyte was certain that he was more
concerned for his own hide if Lord Marmion had lost a
few screws. 

"There is a new cook, from Albarasque no less. The
Lady Margot thought that it would be a fitting touch
and honor to do such for the Damiar Princess and her
party."

"Hnn," Megabyte nodded thoughtfully, pausing as he was
poised to hoist himself into the saddle. "Well, why
don't you go and get her, Sarena. Tell her that I wish
to see her quite urgently. I'm sure that she won't
mind being rescued from the kitchen and my mother's
shadow."

Sarena's eyes did bulge out of her head. Her jaw
worked soundlessly, and for a moment, Megabyte was
afraid the woman would have a stroke right there in
the stable. It took her a full thirty seconds to
regain her composure, and another ten to form words,
"Certainly my lord does not wish to interfere in the
goings on of household management. Your mother would
be most displeased with you. If you have need --"

"Legan," Megabyte slid his eyes from the Jade's
personal maid to his valet, "Apparently Sarena is
having some difficulty comprehending my words. Could
you kindly escort her to the kitchen and see that she
seeks out my wife as I have asked?"

Although Megabyte was not looking at her, he had no
problems feeling the wave of anger and indignation
that rolled off of Sarena. He heard her sharp breath,
and heard the loud crunching of the straw and grass
beneath her feet as she stalked from the stables. He
felt Legan's mirth and saw the man smirk.

"My lord, a man who plays with that much fire -"

"Legan. See that Sarena delivers my message to my
wife," Megabyte cut the man off with a wave of his
hand, his eyes already beginning to dart around the
stables. He found what he was looking for, a single
groom daring to attempt to duck quietly in to tend to
the horses, "You there! Prepare Lady Jadina's horse,
we're going riding."

"A-a-al-lone to-to-together?" The groom stared at him
in utter shock, stuttering a response when he might
never have dared to speak up otherwise.
"Mi-mi-l-l-ord?" The last was added quickly, and the
man flushed from his neck to the roots of his hair.

"Unless there is a problem with my wife's steed? Is
she ill? Or overtired?"

"No-no, no milord. She will be ready shortly." The
groom hurried more deeply into the stables, nearly
stumbling over his feet as he did so.

"Oh and Legan?" the Tomorrow Person and Lord of
Elspera Keep called after the back of his departing
valet, "See if someone in the kitchen can prepare
something for us to eat. I don't think we'll be back
in time for supper."


****
TBC . . .



=====
*********************************************
Worlds Away
http://www.alternate-realities.net/worldsaway
*********************************************

__________________________________________________
Do You Yahoo!?
Get email at your own domain with Yahoo! Mail. 
http://personal.mail.yahoo.com/

-
 To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com"
 with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message.
 For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send
 "help" to the same address.  Do not use quotes in your message.


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

From: Worlds Away <worldsaway2001@yahoo.com>
Subject: (arfic-l) FIC: Worlds Away (16b/??)
Date: 25 Feb 2001 19:53:41 -0800 (PST)

Title: Worlds Away (Part 16b/??)

Author: M. Bumbarger

Email: worldsaway2001@yahoo.com

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 Mandi just because I enjoyed "Slow
Night" so very much!

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 Sixteen (continued)

Sitting down at his desk -- and after truly asserting
himself as Lord Marmion today, Megabyte didn't see any
reason not to think of the things in this world as his
-- Megabyte opened Marmion's journals. It was past
time that he started keeping a record of his own, it
might be the only way to keep himself sane; and, if
they should ever be back on earth it would be a record
for Lord Marmion Ruele to know exactly how much
Megabyte had managed to turn the man's life upside
down. The changes, from ending that disgraceful affair
with Sarena to the public building of a friendship
with Lady Jadina, were for the better, but Megabyte
didn't think that Marmion would ever see it that way.

Jade had been nearly as surprised as Legan, Sarena,
and the poor bewildered groom by the turn in events
that afternoon. He'd had to wait nearly half-an-hour
for her to arrive at the stables, because she
absolutely had to change into her riding habit, and
then it had been another nearly half-an-hour before a
kitchen girl appeared with a sack containing
provisions for the afternoon and water sacks. Even he
didn't know why he had decided to pull Jade away from
her duties as lady of the Keep, and the scowls that he
received from his mother when Lord Marmion and Lady
Jadina arrived for dinner told him that it had not
been appreciated. But he had done it, and all in all,
it had not been a bad afternoon.

At first, however, Jade had to dress him down by
informing him, quite primly, "You do realize that the
entire kitchen staff thinks that you've gone quite
mad? By dinner time, it will be all over the Keep that
Lord Marmion has taken leave of his senses."

"Jade, ask me if I care," had been his laughing
retort. That had been the end of that, and for a few
hours they had put aside their names and titles and
simply been Megabyte and Jade. 

Quill in hand, dipped in the inkwell, Megabyte paused.
He caught himself on the verge of chewing on the
feather end of the quill and smiled at the almost
action. At least some things did not change, even
here. Where to start? What to write? The past few
weeks would require a lot of words, and he didn't
pretend to know where to begin.

From the beginning, a little voice whispered in the
back of his head, and that sounded good enough to
Megabyte. He would start with the first day, the first
moment that he arrived here and go forward from there.
Although it sometimes seemed hard for him to remember
what was the first day, sometimes it seemed like there
were thoughts and memories just beyond his reach that
didn't belong to him, but would if he could just wrap
his fingers around them. The fine line between
Megabyte Damon and Marmion Ruele was becoming less
fine and the sooner he put the words to paper the
better.

He was just preparing to write out the first words
when a knock sounded on the door.

Megabyte looked up in annoyance, wondering who would
be knocking at his bedchamber door at this late hour?
He had already bid Legan good-night and Sarena . . .
well, if the look on her face this afternoon was any
indication, the woman had finally gotten the message
and would steer clear of Marmion until 'his lordship'
was ready to deal with her. Which, if Megabyte had
anything to say about it, would be never.

"What?" Megabyte snapped out, his attention turning
towards the door. He had no intentions of getting up
and answering it, and hopefully he sounded annoyed
enough that any foolish servant would simply scamper
away unless it was a matter of life and death. 

"Marm?" The door opened a narrow crack, Jade's blonde
head peeking inside, "Can I come in for a minute? I
mean, if you're not too busy?"

"No, come on in." Closing the journal, Megabyte put it
aside. His thoughts would keep, but it was pretty
clear that Jade had something on her mind. He could
think of no other reason that she would be here,
coming into his bedchamber this late at night. "What's
up?"

She stepped fully into the bedroom, pulling the door
closed behind her. Jade wore only her nightdress over
which was thrown a robe, her everyday shoes peeking
out from beneath the hem of the pristine white night
clothes. Megabyte was surprised by the brief stab of
surprise that she would actually wander the keep
corridors barely dressed, and then checked himself at
the thought. Jade was perfectly well dressed and
covered for their world, but perhaps he was becoming
more a part of this world than he had previously
thought. 

"I was just," Jade shrugged, and sank to the couch,
holding her robe tightly closed in one fist and
smoothing the layers of her nightdress with the other
hand, "I couldn't sleep."

"Join the club," Megabyte leaned back in his chair,
stretching his legs. "What's bothering you?"

"This!" Jade threw one hand up in the air, the action
indicating not only Megabyte's bedchamber, but the
entire Keep and probably the entire world as well. "I
mean, what are we doing here? I know, I know we keep
talking about it and we don't have any answers, but -
are we still us?"

"Well, kid, last I checked I was still me."

Jade gave him her patented this-is-no-time-for-jokes
stare, tilting her head ever so slightly as she did.
"You know that's not what I meant, Marm. I know that
we're still us, but … well, sometimes, it feels like
I'm really Jadina. I mean, it's like I know her, and I
know who she was and how she felt and . . . " Jade
looked away, clenching her fists in obvious
frustration, shaking her head, "I don't know how to
put it into words to make you understand."

All pretense of jokes aside, Megabyte nodded. "I do
understand."  He crossed to the couch to sit beside
her, raking his hands through his hair and pretending
not to notice the look of wary disbelief that shot out
from Jade's blue eyes. 

"I mean it, Jade. I get it. Sometimes it's almost like
you can remember something, but it's not quite your
memory."

Relief banished the wariness and Jade nodded
excitedly. "Like we really are them, only we aren't
because we can still remember earth and the Ship and
things like chips and ice cream and computer games,
but it seems so far away at the same time."

"But it's not, it's only been four weeks," Megabyte
hesitated a moment before reaching out to wrap his arm
comfortingly around her shoulder. "And you're still
Jade Weston and I'm still Megabyte Damon and we'll get
home someday and everything will be normal again."

"But you don't know that," Jade leaned into him,
tilting her head back to look into his face. "You and
Adam keep saying that, but you don't know that. We
could be stuck here forever. We could never go home
again."

"Or, we could go home tomorrow. There's no way to
know, Jade."

Jade looked away, lowering her head to his shoulder,
"I hate not knowing."

"Me too, kiddo." Before he quite registered what he
was doing, Megabyte had dropped a kiss onto the top of
her head. It was chaste, it was platonic, but it
startled them both, Megabyte could tell by the shiver
that ran through Jade's body, could tell by the way he
suddenly caught his breath. He waited, waited for her
to look at him - all hopeful and adoring, but she
never did. She simply sighed quietly against him,
drawing her feet onto the couch and settling more
comfortably against him. 

[Can I stay here awhile, Marm?] She wasn't reassured,
Jade was far from reassured, Megabyte could hear it in
her mental voice, could feel the sadness and confusion
that played through her. [I just don't want to be all
alone right now.]

[Sure. Stay as long as you want.]

[Thank you.]

This time he knew exactly what he was doing when he
parted her hair and let his lips linger on her scalp.
Not a romantic endearment, or suggestive flirting of
any sort, just a gesture of comfort and affection
shared between friends. [You're welcome.]

Half an hour later, she was sleeping soundly.

And that was precisely where and how Legan found them
in the morning.

****
TBC. . .

=====
*********************************************
Worlds Away
http://www.alternate-realities.net/worldsaway
*********************************************

__________________________________________________
Do You Yahoo!?
Get email at your own domain with Yahoo! Mail. 
http://personal.mail.yahoo.com/

-
 To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com"
 with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message.
 For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send
 "help" to the same address.  Do not use quotes in your message.


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

From: Worlds Away <worldsaway2001@yahoo.com>
Subject: (arfic-l) FIC: Worlds Away (16c/??)
Date: 25 Feb 2001 19:55:13 -0800 (PST)

Title: Worlds Away (Part 16c/??)

Author: M. Bumbarger

Email: worldsaway2001@yahoo.com

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 Mandi just because I enjoyed "Slow
Night" so very much!

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 Sixteen (continued)

Legan recalled a time when he had not disliked his
lord. He recalled a time when he had been quite fond
of the boy, a laughing and exuberant child who had
once been horrified to watch a groomsman end the life
of a lame horse and who had insisted that groomsman be
dealt with harshly for his actions. It had taken Lord
Bial, Lady Margot, Queen Carrina and King Martine to
convince the boy that it had been the best they could
do for the poor beast. Of course, stubborn Marmion
hadn't believed it until his cousins had a bout of
fisticuffs to beat the idea into his head.

Often times Legan wondered what had happened to that
young man. Perhaps it had been over indulgences of his
parents, Lady Margot had lost so many babes before
bringing Marmion into the world, and he was the sole
heir to Elspera Keep, the sole male to pass his name
and heritage on to keep House Ruele alive and strong.
His mother and father had both doted upon him far too
much, and when he was being honest with himself, Legan
would admit that he had done it as well, and perhaps
together they had doted all the sweetness out of the
child. 

Somehow that didn't seem entirely possible, however.
His Highness was still well mannered and had the same
strong, good heart that he had possessed as a child
when he and Marmion and Hagen had nothing better to do
with their time than practice sword fighting with
large sticks and peek under the dresses of the kitchen
maids. And while Lord Hagen's interest in women was
well known, he was still looked upon fondly and did
not have the sour disposition that Marmion did.

But these days, it seemed that something was happening
inside that thick skull of Marmion's. The boy actually
seemed to be re-developing the conscience that he had
lost at some point in time, and he seemed to be
growing into the personality that would make a fine
lord and House Head when that day came. Perhaps Lord
Bial and Lady Margot had been correct, perhaps getting
Marmion away from the Keep where he spent so much time
with his head above the clouds, and forcing him to get
to know his wife, all under the pretense of doing
business for the king, had forced the man to get more
in touch with himself.

Or maybe he had merely slipped and hit his head too
hard at some point in time.

Still, while surprising, it had been good to see him
dismissing that two-faced tart and spending some time
with his wife. While it was true that the two might
never be married in anymore than name only, it made
Legan think there was hope for Marmion that he would
actually befriend his wife. 

And he felt that it was past time that it had been
done.

The Lady Jadina may have come into her own since
moving into Elspera Keep, but there were times when
she still showed herself as the shy, naïve first
daughter of House Zentil. Raised to be the perfect
lady, and probably the prettiest of the Lord Gunter
and Lady Penelope's daughters -- although there was
still time for the other girls to grow into their
looks -- this had been her parent's plan for her since
birth. Jadina, unlike her sisters, would not be
married into one of the lower houses, but into a House
with influence, a House with blood more closely tied
to the Lion Throne. What Lord Gunter lacked in
ambition, his wife made up for tenfold, and so it was
that Lady Jadina had come to them. Come to a man who
did not wish to be married to girl he considered no
more than a child, with blood barely thick enough to
be considered royal by Marmion's standards.

But, by the same token, Lord Bial and Lady Margot
would have taken no girl from any of the higher
Houses; a threat to their rank among the Houses was
not something they would abide by. Contrary to what
Marmion thought, he had always been destined to marry
a daughter of House Zentil; he was lucky that he had
gotten the prettiest of the bunch. 

As was his tradition, Legan knocked twice before
throwing open the doors to Marmion's bedchamber. He
didn't care who or what company the young lord was
keeping; if it was not the young woman chosen to bear
his heirs, then it was of no consequence. Although he
could only hope that his lord had truly decided to be
done with Sarena once and for all.

Few things surprised Legan. Even fewer caused him
embarrassment and left him at a loss of words. What he
saw upon entering Lord Marmion's bedchamber did both.

On the couch in the outer sitting room, sleeping as
though she belonged there, was the Lady Jadina. But
that was not what caused him surprise; that was not
what caused him to feel suddenly as if he had walked
in something that he should not have, that left him
gaping for his voice and the words to say. No, what
caused that effect was the remainder of the scene
spilled out before his eyes. Lady Jadina was not alone
on the couch, but rather she lay beside her husband,
Lord Marmion's body spooned up behind hers, his arm
wrapped around her waist and his face buried in her
hair. 

Legan's first thought had been that Lady Jadina slept
as though she belonged there, and from the looks of
things, perhaps she did.

As the shock slowly faded away, Legan realized that
perhaps standing in the entryway gaping was not the
wisest move. He moved to back into the corridor, to
announce his presence a bit more loudly, but it was
not quickly enough to stop one of the other servants
from sweeping inside the chamber, not quickly enough
to warn the woman away before she gave a surprised and
startled yelp, the water pitcher she carried crashing
loudly to the floor.

Lord and lady jerked suddenly awake, both of them
bolting upright at the sound. Legan caught Marmion's
blue eyes focused accusingly on him, until the serving
woman began to babble apologies, trying to mop up the
spilled water with the hems of her skirts. Lady Jadina
bolted away from the couch, away from her husband,
looking like a startled animal, her face flushed
redder than her husband's hair.

"Leave it," Legan barked at the serving woman, "Go get
another pitcher."

The woman did even wait for Marmion's nod of dismal
before she darted out, Legan closing the doors behind
her. Closing them just in time to catch Lady Jadina as
she tried to flee out of them as well. 

He properly averted his eyes, but his body remained in
her path of escape. "My lady can not wander the Keep
halls this morn dressed like that."

"Oh." The voice was the tiniest of squeaks, reminding
Legan again of the youth and naivete of Marmion's
child bride. "But I have to --"

"Here," Marmion spoke up, his voice followed by a
rustling of material, the loud shuffling of feet as
bodies moved about.

Legan blinked in surprise as Lady Jadina was placed in
his line of sight, fully covered in one of Marmion's
cloaks. "See that she gets to her chambers, all right,
Legan?"

"Certainly, my lord." Legan nodded to Marmion,
although the young lord had already turned away from
him, his attention on his wife. 

Because they spoke no words, the smile that suddenly
broke out across Lady Jadina's face seemed to have no
place and no reason. But she did smile and as she did
so, Marmion turned away, dismissing Legan with a nod,
"And be quick about it. I need to meet with the Duke
of Rigora very shortly."

Legan felt his eyebrows rise clear to his hairline, a
thousand unasked questions forming in his brain. But
it wasn't his place to ask them, at least not in the
presence of Lady Jadina, so he simply turned and did
as he was told. 

Her equilibrium recovered, Lady Jadina walked with her
head held high, although Legan did notice that some
splotches of pink still clung to her cheeks. 

"My lady!" Sarena rushed up to Lady Jadina, her eyes
widening in shock and disdain as she took note of the
clothing - or rather lack of clothing - worn by the
girl. "Where have you - you are -"

"Cold," Lady Jadina supplied with a rueful smile. 

"You were not in your chambers -"

"I slept elsewhere," tiny splotches of pink dotted her
cheeks again as she said the words, but she kept her
head held high. She gave Legan a smile and nod before
turning and walking away, "Thank you for your
assistance, Legan. But I'm certain my husband wants
you back, and I am safely in Sarena's capable hands." 

Legan didn't share Jadina's belief when he saw
understanding and the implications of her words dawn
in Sarena's eyes. He certainly discounted any use of
the word safe as Sarena's face drained of all blood,
her eyes growing hard as she glared at the back of her
lady's head.

With a firm grip on Sarena's shoulder, Legan hissed in
her ear. "She is the lady of this keep, and you are
her servant. If you wish to keep your place here, you
best keep your lips sealed and tend to her as you
should." 

"Sarena, are you coming?" Lady Jadina paused, looking
back, somehow managing to look bored and annoyed even
when wearing a ridiculously large cloak in the early
morning hours.

Legan released Sarena and turned away, hoping that the
implied threat would suffice. While Marmion may have
earned Sarena's venom, Jadina did not deserve it and
he would not let the girl be hurt or upset because of
her husband's indiscretions. 

And if there was any hope at all for that marriage, he
would do everything in his power to encourage it.

*** End of Chapter Sixteen


=====
*********************************************
Worlds Away
http://www.alternate-realities.net/worldsaway
*********************************************

__________________________________________________
Do You Yahoo!?
Get email at your own domain with Yahoo! Mail. 
http://personal.mail.yahoo.com/

-
 To unsubscribe to arfic-l, send an email to "majordomo@xmission.com"
 with "unsubscribe arfic-l" in the body of the message.
 For information on digests or retrieving files and old messages send
 "help" to the same address.  Do not use quotes in your message.