By Absinthe Disclaimer: The characters of Melinda Pappas, Janice Covington, Xena, Sheriff Lucas Buck, Gail Emory, Caleb, and "Dr. Matt" belong to Universal and Renaisance and all those great people. My apologies for borrowing them. The rest of this goop, however, belongs to me, Absinthe. This is an Alternative story, meaning we've got some lesbian romo going on, if this bothers you, TURN BACK NOW. Thanks. Soundtrack: Sheriff Buck's theme song is undoubtedly "Sympathy for the Devil" by the Rolling Stones, "Precious Things" by Tori Amos belongs to Maia, and "Tiger" by Paula Cole goes to Gillian. Chapter 23: I Wrapped My Fear Around Me Like a Blanket Deep brown eyes normally possess a certain warm guilelessness that is disarming and expressive. But not these. They were the brown of dead leaves, of ancient rusted iron, and dried blood. Amanda's frightening gaze rested with apparent apathy on the bedraggled form of her wayward agent. Maia had been unconscious for hours. She was held upright with her arms out perpendicular to her torso by a series of vinyl straps. Her head sagged forward and her hair hung around her face in greasy strands. Her left sleeve had been cut up to the elbow, and the red marks from several intravenous injections and bloodlettings showed on the vulnerable skin at that joint. Her hands jerked spasmodically as she came around. The first sound she heard clearly was Amanda's voice. "You really had us fooled. Your performance record was exemplary until this. No complaining, no ridiculous little intrigues designed to get you out or anything like that," Amanda looked exaggeratedly perplexed, "And now this. Certainly was out of the blue. And all over a woman, a rather unremarkable woman if I dare say so. How could you forfeit your life for her? For love?" Contempt burned in Amanda's eyes. For six years she had seen Maia as a woman so isolated and powerful that she verged on being masochistic, and yet, she had given in to what Amanda saw as one of the greatest flaws of human nature: Love. She had never believed Maia to be capable of feeling such a thing. "How dare you ask me that," Maia growled, her thoughts still disorganized, "how dare you. You were never a friend, and you can't understand how far I've come since I met her." "How far you've come?" Amanda laughed throatily, "It seems to me, luvvy, that you've regressed. Look objectively at what you've done. You've dragged an innocent into a situation from which you knew there could be no escape. You knew this, and yet you did it anyway because you wanted her. What a stupid reason, Maia. You've become weak. Before we picked you up you had such solid roots. We thought you'd be able to move up in this world. We thought you'd be trained to replace Operations. Yes, dear. We knew about your early training. Those years when you worked as an assassin. The accounts were left untouched because they were untraceable anyway. Why should we have bothered with them?" "Are you sick of this yet?" Maia yawned disdainfully, slowly regaining control of her faculties, "How did you find me?" "That's easy enough," Amanda cackled. She crossed the room and picked up a data-pad. She activated it and a tinny version of Sarah's voice issued from its little speakers: "Maia. I'm coming with you tonight. I've told everyone I'm leaving. I can take care of everything. We'll take the Volvo and we'll go wherever you want to go." "Why?" "I told you...once before. The last time you told me that I couldn't go with you." Maia did not betray any emotional response to the recording but seemed to wait calmly for an explanation. "Want to hear more? We've got some great material here." Amanda circled her captive audience dramatically. "Teach me how to make love to you." "That's enough Amanda," the captive's eyes flashed with anger at the sounds rising from the device, "So how did you do it? I checked myself for subcutaneous implants. Where was it?" "Mmmm," Amanda circled a few more times before leaning over Maia's lap to pluck at her pants leg, "I think you know. You didn't really believe that we'd let an opportunity like a major bone replacement go to waste now did you? Of course, it takes a lot of filtering to get rid of the sound of your heartbeat, but . . . it's worth it in the end." Maia suppressed the urge to start screaming and sat patiently. "Oh I'm so proud," Amanda bit her knuckle excitedly, "We did such a good job with you. It's just such a shame about all this. You really should thank us for that implant. If it weren't for the records we have of everything you've said and heard, we couldn't be sure of your fidelity. We'd have to make sure you told us everything, and you know how unpleasant that can be." Maia suppressed an involuntary shudder. "You know, of course, that this is the end of the road for you." Maia waited stonily. "But it doesn't have to be for her. It will be conditional of course." A spark of fire ignited in the dull blue eyes. "I have a last mission for you. It's highly irregular, that's why we'll need the insurance of Sarah's life, and the combination of your disposableness and expertise make you the only candidate for it." "You going to let me out of this thing?" Maia demanded suddenly. "Ah yes, terribly sorry. We had to be careful, you understand," Amanda smiled and released the agent's bindings. Maia stood up too quickly and had to hang onto the outstretched arms of the ‘chair' for support for a moment. "Read up on it. We can talk about this later," Amanda handed the data-pad to Maia and glanced at her watch, "Understand?" "Yeah," Maia crossly replied, "I understand perfectly." Maia watched her leave, amazed at her incredible luck. She couldn't remember anything like this ever happening before. By all rights, both she and Sarah should have already been dead. But then, she'd never seen a class five agent run off before either. Usually by the time an agent had the seniority to reach class five, their will belonged to Section. Maia even remembered a time when she herself would never have been treated as a caged animal. She wouldn't have allowed any of this. Despite the many ways that Amanda and Operations had succeeded in breaking her down, she remained an example of exceptional personal durability. The high emotions of the last hours stirred inside, but Maia harshly repressed all thought, and all feeling. She had already allowed herself to feel too much. Emotions were luxuries she could ill afford. More than herself rode on her success at ingratiating herself to Section, and that extra weight was so precious that failure was unimaginable. She needed insurance that when she died, Sarah would be left alone. That was the only way. But as before, she would have to bide her time, and time was an elusive commodity in Section, especially if you were an agent of questionable loyalties about to head into a long-term deep cover mission that would require complete immersion. Wary of the one chair in the room, she sat down in a corner and read the mission profile. It was absolutely startling. As far as she could tell it was another first for Section. She was going undercover as a recruit. To Section One. She had to read the profile twice before the enormity of its contents truly hit her. Oversight had developed a recent suspicion as to the motives of Section One's head. There was also some suspicion that he had ordered Adrienne, the notorious founder of Section One, terminated. The price would be high. It would involve total relocation, total immersion, and a total paradigm shift. Maia would be given a new face, a new identity, a new way of being, and a new past. The intensive plastic surgery would include the fitting out of the implant in her thigh with a remote switch. Amanda, of course, would be the one holding the controls. She would turn it off only when they were at risk of being discovered. The price was high, but Maia would pay it. For Sarah. When Amanda returned what could have been hours, perhaps days, later, Maia presented her case. "Amanda," she began, the iron force having finally returned to her voice, "I'll do this if you'll agree to my two terms." "And what, pray tell, are they?" "I want to say goodbye to her. I want two days at least, and I want a guarantee that she goes unharmed. For the rest of her natural life." "Yes, yes, of course," Amanda replied with ill concealed impatience. She picked the data-pad off of the floor and left without another word. Maia let her head fall forward and rest on the back of a hand which was draped over one of the knees that she had pulled up to her chest. She found her apartment exactly as she'd left it with only a few exceptions. Her bags were ranged about the living room floor, and Maia's portrait had been turned away from the wall. Sarah savagely scrubbed the tears from her face and explored the rooms carefully, feeling under table tops and chairs, searching anywhere that her limited knowledge of such things told her she might find transmitters hidden. Her search turned nothing up, but when she tried to unpack she couldn't keep her hands from trembling. She was afraid, desperately afraid. She'd been given a glimpse of something she had never imagined could exist. But it did, and now they knew who she was, where she lived, probably everything about her that there was to know. Worst of all, they had Maia. There was nothing to be done but fret. Sarah rummaged angrily through the baggage until she found the moldering duffel bag that she and Maia had retrieved from storage the night they'd left New York together. It had been less than a month, but it seemed like a lifetime had transpired since then. Two lifetimes. Sarah heaved the bag up onto the sofa and pulled the clothes out of it to reveal a black plastic case about the size of the bottom of the bag itself. She'd suspected what was there when she'd tried to lift it the first time. Sarah drew the heavy case free of the nylon fabric and set it in front of her. She hesitated briefly, her hand hovering over the latch. This was a huge invasion of her lover's privacy. This was a more personal piece of her past by far than had been the old journal. Spurred on by her fear, Sarah flicked the latch open and jerked the lid up. The scent of steel wafted up, and Sarah swore lividly. The assault rifle inside had been carefully dismantled; all of its parts stowed in custom fitting compartments. It took her an hour to put it together, and by the time she did she was feeling more in control of herself. She tried to picture Maia holding the gun, her steely blue eyes sighting through its scope, expertly handling the heavy weapon with her personal brand of confidence. The image served to calm her further, and she fell asleep curled around the rifle. When she woke up hours later, it was light outside. She jerked upright, spinning around, holding the rifle at ready as she checked the apartment for intruders. Sarah was struck by the cold realization that no one would know if anything happened to her then. No one knew she was even back in the state. She immediately phoned David at the gallery, but she couldn't reach him, only Bev. "Sarah!" The overenthusiastic voice on the other end of the line crowed, "It's so great to hear from you! How are you hon? When are you coming back?" "Hi Bev. I just called to say I'm home, I'm not sure when I'll be coming back. Can you have David call me when he gets in ? I need to talk to him." "Well, how are you? How was it? Give me the dish!" "Uhm, I really don't have time right now, can I talk to you about it later? Thanks. ‘Bye." Sarah hung up quickly. She couldn't handle the woman just then. She didn't know how long she sat sprawled on the floor by the phone when it rang, startling her enough to make her drop the gun. "H-Hello?" she stuttered into the receiver. "Sarah? It's David. You OK?" "Yeah, yeah. I'm fine." "No you're not. You sound terrible," he replied, once again reading her accurately. "You've known me too long," Sarah attempted levity. "It happens," he retorted. They'd been sweethearts back in high school, and had even been pressured by their families to get married, "You wanna tell me what was up this morning with Bev?" "I just didn't want to talk to her. How's business?" "Great. We've got seven new clients since you left, and sold the entire set of Provectors we had in here." "Good job David," Sarah distractedly replied. "All right, now are you going to tell me what's bothering you?" "Eh. It's hard to explain." "Try me." "I think I've been given a reality pill." "What is it that happened to you?" "I can't explain now Dave, give me a few days ok? I just wanted to let you know I'm here, I needed to hear your voice again," Sarah sighed heavily, "Good-bye, I'll see you later." She hung up before he could say any more. She had hoped to reestablish something by speaking to him again. She wanted to regain her footing, her sense of normality, along with her interest in the galleries and the rest of her life. It hadn't worked. He only seemed more annoying than ever before, and she had only spoken a few words to him. She looked small and alone on the floor, cruel light sliced across the room from the window, placing her in an illuminated island. Sarah kicked the phone away angrily and lay flat on her back, with her eyes on the front door. She waited three days, keeping the rifle with her even in the bathroom. Sarah didn't rationalize her paranoia, not even to herself because any thoughts would only take her back to what she'd seen. She couldn't handle that until she knew what was going on. Late in the evening of the third day, the intercom buzzed. Sarah approached the door warily to activate the 5X7 LCD feed from the camera at the outside door. Her heart pounded in her ears. Thick black hair, a familiar suit jacket, broad shoulders, and a bouquet of roses. Sarah instantly unlocked the door to let her in . Does she know what I've been doing here while she's been going through Hell? She released the dead`bolt and the chain and retreated into the living room. A few moments later she heard the door swing slowly open. Maia's rich voice washed over her, warming her and cleansing her. She felt as if it returned the color to her clothing and the life to her body. Suddenly she was repelled by the cold, heavy rifle in her hands. She shoved it aside and stood up; then sat down again. "Sarah?" the voice was tinged with fear now. " in here," Sarah croaked, her voice unused. The room was dark and it took a beat for Maia's eyes to adjust and find Sarah crouched on the floor with her knees pulled up to her chest. The dark woman immediately joined her, though it took all of her waning self control not to pull Sarah into an embrace. She roughly set the roses aside. "What did they do to you?" Maia asked, her voice promising a fate worse than death to anyone that had harmed her lover. Through her sobs, Sarah replied, "Nothing . . . nothing. Are you OK? I was so afraid. I thought-no. I didn't know what to think. What's happening, Maia, what's going to happen?" "I'm fine, it's going to be fine, Sarah," Maia lied, stroking Sarah's flaxen hair gently. "How am I supposed to believe that? Last week I thought that there were no such things as covert, invisible conspiratory organizations . . . Maia, they were in HERE. They were here. When I came home, everything was here. The car was downstairs, the keys were in my pocket. They even replaced my dead plants with plants of the same species. How did they find us? What's going to happen?" Sarah rambled hysterically. When she was done, she flung herself into Maia's arms, clinging to her helplessly. "Shhh," Maia soothed her, "Listen. They found us because that's what they do. They find people. What's going to happen is this: for the next two days we're going to stay here and just be together until you feel better. Is that what you want?" Sarah nodded against her lover's chest, listening to the rustle of fabric and the steady, reassuring thrumming of Maia's powerful heart. Breathe, just breathe. Maia told herself. She didn't have the heart to tell the woman in her arms the truth. Chapter 25: They walked in step with each other. Their fingers were entwined and their bodies were so close to each other that their hips rubbed together with every stride. Sarah had only been coaxed outside through several promises and much cajoling. Maia felt that she couldn't leave her lover if the woman was afraid to go outside. Every time Sarah jumped at a noise, Maia flinched inwardly. She felt a little piece of herself give up and break away. It was her fault; all her fault. There was no going back, and no time for regrets, Maia scolded herself meanwhile giving no outward indication of her ongoing inner monologue. It was the late morning of the first day. It was likely that the sun would set on them together only once more. Sarah didn't know it yet, but their time seemed to be visibly dwindling. Maia forced herself not to look at clocks or ask passersby for the time. She didn't want to know. She wanted to take Sarah back to the apartment and ravish her with her tongue and rough, harsh hands. But that would be selfish; she'd been selfish enough for ten life times already. The right thing to do was to walk quietly and make sure that Sarah would be able to function with her new-found knowledge of the truth behind James Bond. The awful truth was that Section wasn't always clear as to its motives, nor was it exactly something you could take a vacation away from. Sarah would have to live with the knowledge that she could be followed, monitored, used, killed, or taken at any time by the expansive organization. Chances were, though, that she would be safe as long as Maia lived. The only question that remained, was how could Maia tell her what was going to happen in 48 hours? Should she lie or tell the truth? As she had long ago realized; here there were no right or wrong decisions, only lesser degrees of evil. When they returned to the apartment, Sarah pulled her lover to the couch and sat them both down purposefully. "OK. There's something you're holding back from me," she said. Maia felt both her eyebrows creep up her forehead. Sarah was unfailingly surprising in her ability to read people; Maia in particular. It was an old skill that Sarah was remembering as they became familiar with one another. Not even in their dreams were they truly aware of the ancient nature of their association, however. "Uh," was all Maia could think of to say. "Does that mean yes?" Sarah replied with forced levity. "No. I mean yes. Yes I guess it does." "Well?" Sarah managed to invest this single word with an edge of hysteria. "I knew the risks when I decided to leave Section. Now it's my time to pay." The clock on the wall ticked with alarming volume, and even the sounds of the cars outside intruded on the silence within. "How much time?" Sarah finally asked. "Tonight. Tomorrow, maybe a little longer," Maia shrugged. "When were you going to tell me? Were you just going to leave me a Dear Jane note or something?" "I don't know. I was building up the courage," Maia felt somehow defeated. Saying it out loud made the whole situation so much more real. Sarah stood and strode to the sideboard for a quick drink to still her nerves. The warmth spreading in her stomach gave her the strength to turn around and look her lover in the eyes. "You said it was going to be all right." "I'm sorry. You were hysterical. I didn't know what else to say. Every time I'm close to you Sarah, I can't think right. No more questions. It's all been said," Maia grasped Sarah's wrists gently and tugged her close. "You gave up your life to be with me," Sarah breathed. "I'd do it again. A thousand times over. The life I've left behind me was . . . nothing," she stopped and bent down a little to capture Sarah's lips in a bruising kiss. Sarah was tempted for the briefest of moments to pull back. She had so many things to say. The heat building at the apex of her thighs clamored that this was more important. I wonder if it burns like this in heaven? If not, maybe I don't wanna go, Sarah thought warmly. in the glow of the aftermath of their lovemaking, she almost managed to forget that the dawn was their enemy tonight. The fury of her earlier thoughts had been scorched away by the incredible heights to which their passion had driven them. It was as if all the previous times they had pleasured each other they had not begun to plumb the depths of their capacity for sensation. Even Maia, who had long believed that she'd lost her ability to be surprised by her body, was pleasantly shocked. It was, no doubt, the fleeting, stolen feeling that pervaded every touch and every moment they had left together that heightened both their senses. The enemy arrived too quickly. They were worn out from the long night of passion, and even more tired by the emotional strain they were both under. But neither would surrender any time to sleep. Sunrise found them downing coffee and laughing together as though it were any other morning of their lives. If the laughter possessed a tinge of desperation and the coffee was a little stronger than usual, no one noticed. The day passed in a haze of caffeine and personal revelations. At ten that night, the phone rang. "Angela," an unfamiliar voice said without preamble. "I'm coming," Maia replied automatically to her code word and hung up the phone. Sarah's eyes widened as the moment approached with devastating swiftness. At the time when they had finally opened completely for each other, they were wrenched apart. Maia walked stoically to the front door before turning to look at her lover again. Sarah rushed forward and was folded one last time into a rough embrace. She clutched at Maia's shirt. "You don't have to go. Let's leave. We have the car, we can run away again." "And be found again? No. Never. Forgive me Sarah," Maia firmly, but sadly replied. She used one hand to gently lift Sarah's chin, "You are the best thing that ever happened to me." The words struck some ancient chord between them that echoed over the fabric of centuries. Sarah let go. She squeezed Maia's hand once and then folded her own determinedly behind her back. "I love you." There was a car waiting for her. Maia turned her thoughts ahead, not sure suddenly, if it was worse to worry about the pain that lay ahead, or to reminisce about the brief time that she had pretended to have something that could never be hers. The last months reared in all their delicious beauty and absurdity to taunt her as she sat quietly in the back seat of the Mercedes. I looked at the phone, and for a moment I thought that the innocuous device was the demon that had destroyed the little life I'd built up for myself. Forgive her? Forgive her for leaving or for coming in the first place? The apartment was so silent. I understood then what Melinda Covington had felt when she returned home from meeting Janice. Everything happened so quickly. Could it be that we met and fell in love and lost each other all in less than three months? We had spent only two weeks on the road together. Only two weeks. But we'd said goodbye. You didn't always get to do that. It let me step back from the pain, just like it'd let me step back from her. I can step back now and know that I had felt love. I had experienced a thing that many only dream about, or pretend to know when in truth they felt only a shadow of the real emotion. I had felt love, and knowing what it was, my heart was as wide as the sky. Back to the Beginning |