Disclaimer: Michelle Webster, Jennifer Fuqus, Amanda, Duncan, and Felicia Martins are the property of Davis-Panzer and no harm is intended. I apologize for posting so late but hope you enjoy anyway. Feedback, of course, is always welcome at korbella@yahoo.com.

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"Graduation Day"
by Sandra Adair


St. Peter's Cathedral
Geneva, Switzerland
June 12, 1996


Michelle Webster smiled as she pushed the heavy ornate door of the church open and stepped out into the late afternoon sunlight. She paused at the top of the steps, raising her face to the bright warmth while she closed her eyes and took a deep breath of fresh air. She had come to meditate and light candles for her parents after the stress of her finals earlier that day. Just 45 minutes wrapped in the cocoon of peace that was St. Peter's had relieved the tension headache she had been suffering from when she arrived; now she was ready to go shopping. Amanda would be here in a few days to take her to the villa in France for the summer holidays, just as she had for the past two years. Michelle was eagerly anticipating the arrival of her part-time teacher and good friend but she still had a few things to buy before she left for the summer. In particular, she needed a gift for Jennifer Fuqus, her roommate and usual partner in crime at St. Olaf's School for Girls. Perhaps if she found the right item she would get something for Duncan as well. She was pretty sure she would see him sometime this summer; three months was a long time for Amanda to go without.

Grinning wickedly at that thought, Michelle started down the steps. Reaching the bottom, she shrugged into her lightweight cream-colored duster, the heaviness of her sword sheathed within pulling momentarily on the left side before she adjusted the fit in a gesture that had long ago become automatic. Turning right she headed for the market thinking about what to buy Jennifer and which shops she wanted to visit.

Two blocks later, as she stood with a group of pedestrians waiting to cross the street, the hair on the back of her neck stood straight up with the familiar disorienting and still slightly nauseating pins-and-needles thrum of another immortal when it erupted in her head. Caught off-guard, Michelle was impervious to the flow of humanity surging past her as the group started across the street. What had Amanda said to do in times like this? Oh yeah, get to holy ground. Or stay in a crowded public place. Michelle glanced at the backs of the pedestrians walking away but it was already too late; they were safely on the other side of the street and traffic once again moved freely. Turning rapidly to head back to St. Peter's, she stopped abruptly when she came face to face with a woman who was without a doubt the immortal she felt.

Michelle's frightened glance took in the dark, menacing, kohl-rimmed eyes beneath a black, spiky, punk-like hairdo, thin scarlet-colored lips curved in a coldly mocking smile, and the lithe frame covered in black leather jacket and pants, which were liberally sprinkled with silver studs, reinforcing the bad girl image.

"A young one, huh? All the better."

At the sound of her voice, harsh and raspy like the owner had smoked one too many cigarettes, Michelle startled and took an involuntary step back before she could control the motion. Silently cursing her own body for betraying her inexperience and fear, she raised her eyes once again to the immortal's face, feeling lightheaded, hoping she wouldn't faint. It looked like St. Peter's was out of the question and she was on her own.

"Look," Michelle began, hoping to talk her way out of the confrontation when the smoky voice interrupted.

"How is Duncan these days?"

Michelle knew she failed to hide her surprise at the mention of her first teacher's name and she watched in dismay at the mocking sneer growing on the other woman's face. Rattled and totally off balance mentally, Michelle stared at her in mute shock. A part of her could not believe she was actually standing next to an immortal that was interested in only one thing -- her head.

"There is an alley down this way," the immortal said, gesturing to the side street, "where we will be undisturbed." Michelle again opened her mouth but the mysterious woman quickly grated out, "Save it. I'm not interested in anything but your pretty little head. If you don't come, I'll just kill you here," and suddenly a knife glittered brightly in her hand, "drag you to the alley, and take your head. Your choice."

Michelle glanced wildly around seeking an avenue of escape, still unable to believe this was happening to her now. Quickly the other immortal stepped to her side and slightly behind her, pressing the knife into her ribs. After one last panicked glance into the cold face that bore no signs of compassion, she faced forward and gave a small nod. Better to die fighting and trying than to just give up. Squaring her shoulders and taking a deep breath, she started down the side street, walking quickly enough to keep the immortal's knife away from her body. She could hear the determined footsteps walking behind her and she increased her pace, trying to control her wildly spiraling fear and panic enough to remember all the lessons Amanda and her fencing instructor had taught her.

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Michelle stared in stunned disbelief and horror at the severed head lying three feet in front of her, slightly rocking to and fro where it had bounced to a stop. Had she really just chopped off another woman's head? The hot coppery scent of blood hung in the air and Michelle breathed as shallowly as possible to avoid smelling it. She swallowed repeatedly, trying to quell a rising surge of nausea. The strange immortal had slipped on a broken piece of glass when she had twisted suddenly to avoid a lunge by Michelle. The other immortal's forward momentum and gravity, together with the stumble, had caused her sword to drop and Michelle's sword, suddenly unblocked, had buried itself almost half-way through her abdomen. Michelle had frozen for a moment, before her subconscious mind took over. Drilled by countless repetitions during training with Amanda, Michelle had pivoted, pulling her sword free, and had swung with all her might, severing the head in one continuous, graceful, flowing motion. And that was that. In the blink of an eye, without conscious thought or decision, Michelle had graduated from immortal infant to a full-fledged player in the game; she had taken her first head.

While she stood frozen in stunned shock, the eyes in the severed head slid half-closed. Michelle flinched even through she knew it had to be an involuntary muscle reaction. The dark eyes seemed to glare accusingly back at her. Her body, which just moments before had been hot and sweaty from combat, was now suddenly icy cold and clammy. Shivers started immediately and quickly enveloped her entire body, making her teeth chatter. Michelle struggled to control her nausea and black spots danced before her eyes. Shaking uncontrollably she lost her grip on her sword and its loud clanging fall broke the hushed, frozen tableau. Losing the battle with her stomach, Michelle whirled, stumbled a few steps and fell to her knees, violently retching onto the alley floor.

With her back turned and focused as she was on the dry heaving spasms of her own body, she failed to notice the foggy cloud swirling and coalescing over the body of the vanquished immortal. The wind picked up, softly swirling the loose papers and other trashy debris that always seemed to collect along the edges of an alley. Her first indication of something amiss was her hair beginning to stand on end. She glanced over her shoulder to where the body and head rested. What in *the hell* was that?

Michelle had just enough time for her dazed brain to register the milky white cloud before it descended on her and her world exploded. As the white mist surrounded her, she first experienced a cold so intense it permeated to every individual cell, causing a bone-deep ache, and for a second she wondered if she had been frozen solid. Immediately a white hot bolt of lightning struck her right over her heart. As thousands of joules of electricity poured through her, hot fire seared through every nerve in her body, and she felt like she was burning up from the inside out. Muscles tightened rock-hard in an involuntary attempt to stop the burning. Michelle was not sure she was breathing anymore. In pain, she wanted to scream, but it took all her strength to simply ride the swells of unending nerve-frying agony as lightning continued to strike her, pouring its energy through her body in ever-increasing waves.

Seconds later, she became oblivious to her physical pain as a second, more fierce, battle began inside her mind. Images so strange and foreign flooded in like raging water from someone she hardly knew. They assaulted the very core of who she was, and battered and bruised as she already was, she was instantly overwhelmed. She closed her eyes and saw this person come alive. The image began chanting "I am Felicia Martins" and she could feel an alien presence in her mind trying to take over. It was the sight of that coldly mocking smile, however, that shattered whatever control and rational thought Michelle had been trying to hang onto. In a frenzy of primal hatred and fear, her own psyche viciously counterattacked, struggling with the foreign essence present in her head. In self-defense, she mentally began shouting, at first softly but then louder and louder in growing strength and defiance, "I am Michelle Webster! I am Michelle WEBSTER! I am MICHELLE WEBSTER! I AM MICHELLE WEBSTER!". The foreign presence was slowly but surely beat into submission, the other's voice's chanting refrain growing fainter and fainter until finally it was gone and Michelle's soul was victorious, once more in total and complete control.

Moments later everything was all over. Michelle slumped on the alley floor totally drained and unable to muster the energy to do anything more than breathe. Her body was the same but she was not herself and everything around her was not right. Suddenly, immortality was more real to her than she had ever previously imagined or dreamed of. It was no longer fun and games or even slightly amusing. And it was no longer just something that happened to the other immortals in her life. All of the theoretical lessons dispensed by Amanda as well as the need for sword training were a harsh reality she finally began to understand. Lost, alone, and not sure she wanted to participate anymore in this lifestyle that had been thrust upon her, Michelle began to quietly weep.

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First, the information about Michelle and Amanda were taken from the Watchers CD provided by Davis-Panzer. It says that when Amanda took Michelle off Duncan's hands she took her to Switzerland to St. Olaf's School for Girls, a finishing school in Geneva, and that she remained Michelle's teacher. Jennifer Fuqus is Michelle's watcher.

Second, thanks to sinanju for providing such *excellent* lyrics. Lines uses are marked with ** (note - some pronouns have been changed to make them fit the story).

Good For Your Soul
By Oingo Boingo

Have you ever felt that somehow
You were not yourself **
That your body was the same **
But everything around you wasn't right **
And images so strange and foreign **
Flooded in like raging water **

Have you ever been in love
With someone you hardly knew **
Whereas every time you closed your eyes **
You saw this person come alive **
It kept you wide awake at night
You felt like you were burning up **
In pain, you want to scream **
Then you passed out in a dream

CHORUS
Just once or twice is good for your soul
Just once or twice is good for your soul
If you don't stop, you'll lose control
Just once or twice is good for your soul

Ever lay there half asleep all hours of the night
With some nagging demon tugging at that tiny bell
Inside your mind **
When suddenly that strange idea
Bursts into an inspiration
You grab for it and then
The whole thing slips right through your fingers

CHORUS
Sandra Adair
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