by Faith Woodings
All the usual disclaimers... the only characters that belong to me are Rachel Townsend, and Joey (Joy) Malone. The rest of them belong to people with way more money than I have. I am only borrowing them for fun (well, it might not all be fun
Hmmm, now for the rating... I think I will have to go with R. There are no sex scenes. I like slash, but I am lousy at writing sex scenes (so far, anyway
Prelude to a storm
A cloud of steam rolls out of the bathroom as the door opens, and the woman steps into her hotel room. She has a white terry robe belted loosely around her lithe form, and she is toweling her long dark hair as she crosses to the desk.
She eases back in the chair, long legs crossed at the knee, and opens her laptop. With the touch of a button, her email downloads, and she begins to scroll through it slowly. A smile crosses her lips as she finds the message for which she has been waiting.
"It's about damn time, Kronos," she mutters under her breath, as she quickly scans the message. It contains just two small words: "Join me", and the rest is gibberish, a gibberish she obviously understands. She deletes the message, emptying the trash, and closes her computer with a small flourish.
Within ten minutes, she is dressed and packed, her motorcycle leathers well-worn, but comfortable, and all of her belongs contained in two saddlebags. She picks up a 3 foot oak staff from near the door and heads down to the lobby. She settles her bill, and claims her motorcyle from the parking garage.
Twenty minutes after receiving the message, she is on the open road, leaving Bordeaux behind. Never one to worry about such mundane things as speed limits, not too much time has passed before she reaches her destination. As she approaches the abandoned submarine pens, though, she slows her iron horse down, preferring to err on the side of caution. Something just doesn't "feel" right.
She finds her way inside, and begins a systematic search, a search that grows more frantic as she finds no signs of life. She makes her way to the pens themselves and she can smell ozone, and underneath that, the faint scent of blood in the air. The feeling of dread begins to swell in her and her heart grows cold when she finds the first body. She knows without even looking this is not her former teacher, and, most recently, her lover.
She feels no immortal signature, but draws her weapon as a precaution. She salutes the fallen form, and continues her search, knowing in her heart what she will find. When she reaches the body of Kronos, she drops to her knees and begins to search the ground around his body. Her eyes brimming with tears, she begins to search for the thin leather cord that was never far from him.
Her fingertips brush it, and she clutches the small red crystal in her hand and then presses it to his chest, and begins to chant, softly at first, but growing louder as her passion starts to increase. The crystal begins to glow softly and then brighter and brighter until the light glows like a live coal through the palm of her hand. She stops suddenly, and the light grows dim. When it has disappeared completely, she ties the cord around her neck, and tucks the crystal under her shirt, treasuring its warmth against her skin.
She bows her head, and raises her staff with both hands. She presses the release button, and hidden blades spring out and extend from both ends. She slowly raises her head, and opens her eyes. They are cold, and the color of the fresh turned earth of an open grave.
"I promise you, Kronos, you will have your revenge. I promise you that I will be the instrument of your vengeance. Whomever is responsible will die, and whenever possible, they will die screaming," and a small smile curves her lips. "I think I will start with that bitch, Cassandra."
She glances down at his body, and says, "She deserves to die for trying to kill you." She reaches under his jacket and removes the dagger from his belt. "I know you always wanted to give this back to her. I will just have to deliver it for you."
She rises, retracts the blades, and heads back to her bike. As she roars away from the pens, she nearly runs an oncoming car off the road. She doesn't even look back.
Paris, France
Rachel Townsend yawns, the long hours and boredom finally taking their toll.
"Mental note," she says under breath,"Remind me to put in for a transfer, psycho chick has gotten awfully lame lately."
She speaks softly into her recorder, "subject Cassandra has left the Louvre, and is walking alone, heading for her hotel. I am following," and she suits her actions to her words.
As she continues to watch Cassandra, she notices a new player on the scene. "Hello, what's all this then," she mutters to herself as she ducks into cover.
Cassandra stops and takes a look around as she feels the tingle of another immortal crawl across her skin. The woman steps out of the shadows, looks at Cassandra, smiles and says, "You're mine, bitch."
Cassandra cocks her head to one side, and says, "Have we met?"
The woman smiles, and says, "Ya know, I don't think we have been introduced. My name is Joey Malone, and I am going to take your head."
"This is a bit public, don't you think?" Cassandra asks. Joey shrugs and says, "Then let's make it private, whaddaya say?" and steps back into the alley.
Cassandra shakes her head, but follows Joey away from the busy city street. "I have no quarrel with you. I don't even know you."
Joey smiles again, but the smile doesn't quite reach her eyes. "That doesn't matter. I don't know you either, but I know of you, and I DO have a quarrel with you."
Cassandra eyes the short leather jacket that Joey is wearing, and tries one last time. "How do you expect to fight, you are obviously not carrying a sword."
Joey smiles again, and this time it is in genuine amusement. "Have you ever seen Star Wars, Cassandra? 'Your eyes can deceive you, don't trust them,' or perhaps something more recent, like 'at last we will have our revenge'," and she presses the button on her staff, releasing the blades.
Cassandra's eyes widen in surprise, but she draws her weapon. They begin to circle.
Rachel slowly, carefully, moves further up the alley, trying to get a good view. She begins to speak once again, recording the events as they unfold.
"Cassandra has been challenged by an unknown female immortal. The woman is approximately 5'7" tall, and I would guess about 140 lbs. She is dressed in leather pants, and motorcyle style boots, a short leather jacket and gloves. Her hair is dark brown, straight and long, tied back in a pony tail. I have never seen anything like the weapon she is using. It is a wooden staff, with blades extending from both ends. It reminds me of the light saber thingie the bad guy used in the last Star Wars movie. Gotta give her points for creativity.
The fight is continuing, but Cassandra is obviously not prepared to fight against something like this. She is attempting to use her "Voice"."
As they lock up against each other, Cassandra looks Joey in the eye, and whispers," You are tired, Joey, all you want to do is lay down and rest, you just want to close your eyes."
Joey snorts, and says, "Cassandra, it takes a witch to know a witch. It won't work with me. By the way, I have something for you."
Joey whirls away from Cassandra, and as she comes back around, she has the dagger in her hand. Using her staff to sweep Cassandra's sword to one side, she buries the dagger to the hilt in her chest.
Cassandra gasps, and as she realizes just whose dagger it is, her eyes grow wide, and she drops to her knees.
Joey leans down and whispers in her ear, "Yes, bitch, it's from him," and with one swing of her staff, she removes Cassandra's head from her shoulders.
"Oh SHIT!" is all Rachel has time to say before she ducks for cover behind the nearest dumpster, hoping like hell it will be enough to protect her from what is about to come.
She peers around the corner of the dumpster, her Watcher curiousity getting the best of her.
Tendrils of mist slowly rise from Cassandra's fallen form, like branches of a willow tree, stretching out to embrace Joey's unyielding body. Suddenly, the mist becomes alive with malicious intent, as arcs of electricity twist and contort around her, slamming into her from all sides as her mouth opens in a silent scream. Her arms jerk above her, holding her staff parallel to the ground. The lightening travels up and down her body, reaching the staff and arcing from the blades to the surrounding buildings.
Windows begin to shatter and implode all around her, trash, bottles, and assorted other cast-offs begin to swirl with the force of the maelstrom.
Rachel screams and ducks back down behind her metal fortress as garbage and other bits of shrapnel and flying debris begin to rain down on her.
Soon, all is quiet, and Rachel slowly uncurls herself from the protective ball she had become. She takes a few deep breaths, and then listens. She hears nothing but ticking of cooling metal, and the few remaining shards of glass letting go and falling at last.
Slowly, Rachel stands and peeks over the top of the dumpster. She sees Joey on her knees, head down, and she crouches back down.
"Wow," she thinks to herself, "This is gonna make one helluva report!" She leans to look around the corner of the trash bin, and falls back with a squeal as she sees feet directly in front of her.
"Looking for me?" Joey asks, as she rest the edge of one blade against Rachel's throat. "Now that I have your attention, feel like answering a couple of questions? Like who the fuck are you and why are you spying on me?"
Rachel takes a deep breath, trying to slow her racing heart, and says,"I wasn't spying!" Joey raises an eyebrow to that, and says, dryly, "Wanna try that again?"
"Well, not intentionally, anyway. C'mon, give me a break. I heard the sounds of a duel, and followed my ears. I was just curious!"
"Didn't anyone ever tell you that curiousity killed the cat?" Joey grins. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't waste you right now. If you can convince me, I'll let you go. Deal?"
Rachel opens her mouth, and Joey stops her before she even begins, "And please, if this is where you are going to say 'it would be the right thing to do', don't waste my time. I have no regrets, no guilt in my heart."
In spite of the weapon resting at her throat, Rachel snickers, and says "I wouldn't dream of preaching to you like that. I don't think either one of us plays by the rules. Instead, I will make you a deal -- a favor for a favor. You let me go, and I will owe you my life. One favor of your choosing, and I will do it."
Joey gets a thoughtful expression on her face. "Kind of like the lion and the mouse? Hmmm, this intrigues me... OK, you live." She lowers the weapon and taps each blade against the ground, secreting them back into the staff. She holds out her hand.
"Give me your wallet, little one."
"Why?" Rachel asks.
Joey again raises an eyebrow and simply holds out her hand. Rachel sighs and reaches into her back pocket, and tosses her wallet to Joey.
Joey scans through the wallet, quickly memorizing her address, and other personal information. She tosses it back to Rachel, and says, "Your phone number next please, both cell and landline." Rachel recites the numbers, and Joey says, "I will call you in two hours. You had better be at one of the numbers, or I will find you, Rachel Louise Townsend. I am understood?"
Rachel nods, and Joey slowly backs away into the shadows.
To be continued...
Author's notes: Please be gentle this is my first attempt at any fanfic, let alone HL fanfic!
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Unsung Psalm
There would be psalms sung by a choir
There would be cherubs with tiny harps arrows and bows
But I'm feeling hot and bothered under the collar
If this is a dream wake me up now
Some would call me a cheat call me a liar
But I have no regrets no guilt in my heart
Do you live by the book do you play by the rules?
If there is one thing I know I know I will die
There would be psalms song by a choir
Two week later
by Tracy Chapman
(reprinted here without permission)
I would have a white robe a halo newly acquired
I'd be at peace and I'd have no desire
If I'd lived right
I'd have a halor and a flowing white robe
I'd be enfolded by a celestial light
If I'd lived right
I feel the sweat breaking out on my brow
I feel the heat and I know it's the passion
The love I can't disavow
If this is a movie let's edit these scenes out
It would be a PG instead of an X-rated life
If I'd lived right
Say that I've been defeated by the basest desired
Yes I have strayed and succumbed to my vices
But I tried to live right
I only feel sadness for any pain that I've caused
I guess I wouldn't bother to worry at all
If I'd lived right
Do you care what is thought by other about you?
If this day is all that is promised to you
Do you live for the future the present the past?
If anyone cares some stranger my critique my life
I may be revered or defamed and decried
But I tried to live right
I would have a white robe a halo newly acquired
I'd be at peace and I'd have no desire
If I'd lived right