DISCLAIMER: The Star Trek characters are the property of Twentieth Century Fox, Mutant Enemy, Paramount Studios, Inc and Viacom. The story contents are the creation and property of Djinn and are copyright (c) 2004 by Djinn. This story is Rated PG-13.

The Lost Years:  Chaos

by Djinn






Kirk watched as Chris tensed...again.  She didn't relax until they had passed the gang of young toughs who were hooting at her. 


"You come this way every morning?" she asked.


He nodded.  "I guess I just blend better."


She glanced over, looking pointedly at his uniform.  "Why, yes, Admiral Kirk, you do blend in here."  She started to grin.




"I think you've got some sort of glamour thing going."


He laughed, running his hand over his hair as if smoothing it down.  "Well, I know I'm pretty but..."


She bumped up against him and he caught her hand.  "I mean a spell, you big goof.  That kind of glamour.  So they don't even see the uniform."


He frowned.  "New word for me.  Where'd you hear it?"




"Before or after you kissed her?"


"I didn't kiss her this time." 


"Okay.  Did she kiss you?"  He laughed.  It was a joke...he thought.


"Amazingly not.  It was a no-kiss encounter."  She gave his hand a squeeze before dropping it. 


He had a feeling she wanted to have hers free to fight.  "Well, that's a relief.  I thought I was going to have some competition."


"Never that."  She smiled softly.


They were getting into dangerous territory.  He sighed, and she shot him a look.  He shook his head and walked a little faster.


"It's not a crime to admit what we feel," she said softly.


"But it's not smart.  You know why I can't"--he saw her look and amended the word--"won't.  And you're going away."


"I don't have to."


He exhaled slowly.  "You were the other thing Nogura tempted me with."


She looked down.  "You didn't tell me that."


"I sure didn't, did I?"  He knew his smile was grim.


She looked over at him.  "Why not?"


He closed his eyes for a moment.  "Because I think you should go."




He reached out for her hand again.  "And I want you to stay."


She stopped walking, turned to him.  "I think you're making this way too hard on both of us."  She saw his face and held up her hand.  "No.  I get to say this.  I'll stay.  I'll gladly stay.  All you have to do is say the word."  She moved closer.  "Sir?  Is the word given?"


He could feel her energy pushing at him.  Had been able to feel it ever since they'd done the spell to hide the Kirsu ring.  It was less intense than right after the spell, but still there--even their energies were attracted to each other.  He took a step back.  "No, Chris.  The word is not given."


She closed her eyes.  "Okay."  She swallowed hard then opened her eyes.  Her look was cool and professional. The slayer, not the woman he loved.  She turned and walked away quickly.  In the wrong direction.


He hurried after her, turned her gently.  "This way."  He leaned in, checked to see if she was crying.


"I'm okay."  She sounded more resigned than disappointed.  But her eyes looked suspiciously bright.


"Had to try?"


She shrugged. 


He wanted to reach for her hand but decided it was a bad idea.  "We're almost there," he said softly.




He turned into the motel, saw that Weasel was still in the office.  "That's him."




He smiled at her tone.  "And what does that mean?"


"Just 'hmm.'"


Kirk smiled wider.  He'd been trying to figure out what Weasel would call Chris.  He doubted it would be anything that pleased her.  He led her into the bright office. 


Weasel looked up.  "Hey, Mac.  You're early, why don't you and your friend go on down to the room."  He grinned.  "Maybe you could try to get through the Caverimics shield while you wait."


Kirk noticed he hadn't looked at Chris.  "Everything okay?"


"What?  Oh yeah.  I've got a late arrival coming in who I have to wait for.  She won't be long."


"And I should try the shield, huh?"


"Let's see how much you've learned."  Weasel grinned but he looked distracted. 


"Okay."  Kirk turned to Chris.  "Room thirty-eight."


She shot Weasel a suspicious look, then let Kirk push her out of the office.  "What did he mean that he had to wait?  Doesn't he have any help?"


Kirk thought back.  "Yeah, there's a kid who relieves him at five."


She checked her chrono.  "Well, it's past five now.  Where is he?"


Kirk shrugged.  "Late, I guess.  What's the matter?"


She smiled slightly.  "You'll laugh."


"No, I won't."


"Magic--other than yours--gives me the creeps."


He began to laugh.


"See, I told you you'd do that.  I do know you, Mister."  She grinned at him.


"I know you do."  He stopped at room thirty-eight.  "So you just don't like magic?"


"No, it makes my skin crawl.  And not in a good way."  She laughed.  "Not in a hide the necklace way."  Her grin was pure seduction again.


"Chris..."  He shook his head as he keyed open the door.


She laughed.  She tried to go into the room but he held her back.


"It's shielded."


She reached out gingerly.  Her hand seemed to be pushed back.  She touched the door again, harder this time, and her hand was bounced back harder.


"Does that make your skin crawl?"


She smiled.  "I meant the idea of magic more than coming in contact with it.  I guess because it's the one thing I can't fight."  She reached out again, moving her finger so softly that she could trace a pattern even as the shield nudged her away.  "To be honest, all I feel is the force pushing me back, not that it's magic.  It could be a regular force field for all I know."


"Well, let's see if I can get it open.  Watch my back?" he asked her.  He was used to trying this with Weasel standing behind him.


"Do you even have to ask?"  She moved aside, seemed to become even more alert than she had been on their walk over.  If that was possible.


"Don't want anything to happen to me?"


"As a matter of fact, no." 


He nodded, turned to the door.  Closing his eyes, he relaxed, grounded as Weasel had taught him.  Outside like this, he could feel the power of the Earth pulsing underneath the concrete.  The power of the sky so dark above him.  He kept his eyes closed and tried to feel the energy pattern guarding the door.  It slowly came into detail, a web-like series of tracings pulsing with red and yellow.


This was as far as he'd ever gotten.  Weasel had refused to give him even a hint of what his next step should be.  He knew he wasn't strong enough to overpower it.  The magic would just fight back.  He watched the web for a moment, found the changing colors soothing.  Red, yellow, red, yellow.  He let himself fall into the colors, become the colors. 


He was suddenly aware of a small flare of identical color coming from his hands.  He slowly held them up, watched as the colors changed in tandem with the colors on the shield.  He held his hands out, pushed them against the web and felt it pull away at his touch, leaving an opening big enough for Chris and him to walk through.


"Chris?"  He could feel her turn toward him.  "The shield is down, walk through the middle of the opening, step at least five inches up and keep your head that far away from the top of the frame.


Eyes still closed, he saw her walk through the opening, her body nothing more than patterns of light--energy, her energy at its most basic level.  She was all colors, many of them dark.  It didn't surprise him.  He knew how grim her life had been, supposed that had colored--literally--how she was and who she was.


He followed her through the door, then said softly, "Don't turn around.  Just hold still for a moment."


He traced her energy, concentrating on the dark places.  Weasel had said he could tell when something was evil or not.  Could he do that?  There was darkness inside her, but was it evil?  He relaxed even more, let whatever had formed the colors coming from his hands have free rein.  As he traced the lines of her energy, he could feel everything about her--bravery, pain, humor, love, and yes, darkness.  But it was not evil, it was something different.  It was the slayer inside her, the one who brought death to the monsters.  But it was also something at odds with the slayer.  Something self-destructive, something that didn't want to fight anymore.  He wondered if he had read her this way right after she had run away, if this darkness would have been all he'd have seen.  Now it was just a small part of who she was.  The slayer part of her was much more pervasive.


As was the loving part of her.


"Um, whatever you're doing.  It feels really strange."  Chris moved restlessly.


"But he's doing a damned good job of it," Weasel said behind them.  "Guess you figured out what I meant?"


Kirk opened his eyes, saw that Chris had already turned, her look guarded, even wary.  He could tell that she didn't trust Weasel.


Weasel had turned to the door, was building the shields back up.  He glanced over at Kirk and grinned.  "Nice job on the shield by the way.  You could have built it back the same way from this side.  A handy thing to know if you ever need to get in without someone noticing the lock's been jimmied."  He winked at Chris.


Kirk glanced over at her; her look was grim.


"Tough room."  Weasel laughed to himself.  "Don't like me much, do you, Missy?"


Kirk held back laughter at the name.  That one was sure to piss her off.


"Name's Christine."


"Yeah, well, Mac here will tell you, I have issues with names."  He turned away from the door, got close--too close--to Chris.  "You can relax.  I'm on your side."


She didn't move.  "That remains to be seen.  Who was it you were waiting for?"


"That's none of your business."


She stepped closer, their noses were nearly touching.  "I'm the local slayer.  That makes it my business."


Weasel glanced over at Kirk.  "You really like your chicks this aggressive?  Me, I prefer something a little softer."  He looked back at her.  "There's a non-violence spell in effect here.  You can't start anything."  He grasped her arms, moved her back a bit, then stepped around her.


"You are one ballsy man," Kirk muttered as he followed Weasel down the staircase to the workroom.


"It's like with a dog.  You can't show any fear," Weasel said, loud enough for Chris to hear from behind Kirk.


"Generally speaking, it's bad policy to goad a dog," Chris said, in an equally loud voice that carried to Weasel.  "Or a slayer."


"Hon, do you get along with anyone?"  Kirk glanced back at her and winked.


She rolled her eyes.


"And you," Kirk said, as he touched Weasel on the shoulder.  "Quit baiting my friend."


"Why'd you bring her again?"


Kirk knew Weasel had not forgotten that they needed her help with the spell he wanted to use against David.  Weasel never forgot anything, much less something so out of the ordinary.


Weasel pointed to the comfortable chair.  "Sit, missy."


"She's not going to be very helpful if you continue to antagonize her."  Kirk looked at Chris's face.  Her expression was tight, uncomfortable.


"Well then, what's a good name?  Doll?  Babe?  Should I call her Hon like you do?"


"Try Slayer if you can't use my name."  Chris glared at Weasel, but the look seemed to include Kirk.


"Slayer it is."  Weasel picked up the small glass ball he and Kirk had been working on.  "Do you know what this is?"


"Looks like an orb.  I don't have much luck with those."


Kirk noticed she made no move to touch it, barely looked at it.


"Yes.  I understand that's true."


Chris glared at Kirk.


"He didn't tell me, Tolvar did.  We were gossiping at lunch one day."  Weasel laughed.  "It's an orb all right.  But not the kind you're used to.  It's called an Orb of Thesulah.  They used to be quite rare.  Until it was discovered that the family that made them was keeping the quantity low to increase demand and price.  They were 'persuaded' to increase production."  He rubbed the clear glass ball gently, and a dim light began to form, followed by some kind of smoky vapor that began to swirl inside the orb. 


"What does it do?"


Weasel glanced at Kirk.  "You didn't tell her?"


"You said I shouldn't."


"But I wasn't sure you'd follow that instruction."  Weasel gave him a pleased smile.  "I'm proud of you, Mac.  And not sure how you got her to come without a better explanation than 'just because.'"


Chris stared up at him, her face stony.  "He said 'please.'"


"Ah."  Weasel handed Kirk the orb, then knelt down in front of Chris.  "I know you don't trust me, or even particularly like me.  But your friend does, and you're going to have to trust his instincts.  Can you do that?"


She stared at him for a long moment, then nodded slowly.


"Grudging but still the right answer."  Weasel reached for her hands, moving slowly, deliberately, as if Chris was a dog who might bite him.  "We're using the Orb to conjure something that might stop your vampire long enough for you to use your weapon.  It was your friend's idea and it's a good one.  Unfortunately, he doesn't have enough memories to properly build the image."




"Of the girl we want to conjure."


Chris looked up at Kirk.  "Laura?"


He nodded. 


"Why didn't you want him to tell me?"


Weasel had his eyes closed.  "Because she is fresh now, fresh in your mind and you have no chance to overthink this."  He let go of her hands, reached out for the globe.


Kirk set it gently in his hand, and Weasel put it in Chris's hand, then closed her other one over it.  He then stepped to her side, nodding at Kirk to take the other side.  He put one hand on Chris's head, the other on top of her hands.  Kirk did the same.


"Close your eyes.  Remember her.  Think of her.  Any memory that catches your fancy.  What she looked like.  What she sounded like.  How she acted."


Kirk could feel the orb heating up, even with his hand on the outside of theirs.  He could hear snatches of Laura's laugh, see her red hair shining in the sun, saw it the last time, matted and covered with the blood of slayers and the dust of vampires.  He heard a sob, realized it was from Chris. 


He started to let go but Weasel said softly, "No.  Let her feel it."


Kirk had a vivid image, Laura lying on Chris's bed in her quarters on the Enterprise, a mischievous look on her face.  Then she gave Chris a warm hug before jumping into the portal.


Then the scene changed.  Laura wasn't smiling anymore.  She was lying on the ground, her insides leaking into the bloodstained fields.  She was brave, so brave.  Dying.  She died, holding tightly to Chris's hand.


He suddenly felt a twinge of pain--from the orb.


"She's squeezing too hard.  She'll shatter it.  Make her stop," Weasel said.


"Chris?"  Kirk began to stroke her hair, never breaking the connection between them as he let his hand roam, trying to reach her.  He slid his other hand lower, so he could get to her without Weasel's hand in the way.  "Chris.  It's okay.  Ease up on the orb.  They're just memories.  It's over."


She took a ragged gasp of air, and her eyes flew open.  She stared down at the orb like it was some kind of parasite.  "Get it off of me."


Kirk's tightened his grasp on her hand, afraid that she'd throw the thing away from her.  "It's okay."  He turned her head toward him, ran his hand down her cheek.  "It's okay, Chris.  You're on Earth, not on Vega Hydra."


She was breathing hard, as if she'd fought an army of vampires.  Why had he thought this was a good idea?  Losing Laura must have been part of what made her run.  What the hell had he been thinking?


"Let go, Mac," Weasel said, gently prying Chris's hands from the Orb.  The thing seemed stuck to her skin.


"Get it off," she said again. 


Weasel worked it free, then carried it to the table, setting it on a stand.  He said a few words over it and the smoke disappeared, and the light--much brighter now than it had been--faded away.


Kirk knelt down.  Chris was shuddering and her eyes were unfocused, filled with some deep horror.  A tear ran down her cheek.  Then another.


"Here," Weasel said, his voice much gentler than it had been.  "This will warm her up."  He wrapped a throw around her shoulders.  Kneeling down, he took her hands in his, began to chafe them.  "It's okay, Christine.  You did very well."  He looked up at Kirk.  "You didn't tell me the girl practically died in her arms."


"I didn't know.  I was with Spock."  Kirk looked down.  What had he done?


Chris was still shaking.  Weasel pulled her gently to her feet, then looked at Kirk.  "Sit down."  Once he sat, Weasel pushed Chris into his arms.  "Hold her.  Warm her up."  He tucked the throw around her, found another blanket and put it over her legs.  "I'm going to make her something hot to drink.


Kirk pulled her close, felt her arms steal round his neck.  She seemed to relax, nestled closer to him, sobbing now.


"Sweetheart, I'm sorry.  I'm an idiot.  I should have warned you." 


Weasel looked over at him.  "If it makes you feel any better, we got what we needed in spades.  Nothing wrong with her ability to visualize."  He smiled grimly, then went back to the herbs he was mixing.


Kirk stroked her hair, pulling her closer to him.  She'd stopped shaking and pulled away a little to look at him.  Her look was so haunted, so deeply hurt.  He leaned in, his lips soft on hers.  He only meant to kiss her gently.  A friendly kiss.  A comforting kiss.  But she pulled him closer and her lips were cold and he wanted to warm them up.  The kiss deepened, their mouths opened, and he began to rub her back, his hand moving up under her uniform top.


"Well, that's one way to warm her up, Mac.  You want to use the room upstairs?"


Kirk pulled away slowly. 


Chris was staring at him, her eyes no longer quite so lost, but not completely normal yet.  She leaned in, kissed him gently, then said softly, "He doesn't want to use the room." 


Kirk thought he had never heard her sound more sad. 


She sighed and cuddled back against him, whispering, "You might want to move your hand?"


He pulled it out from under her top.


Weasel walked over with the tea, handing it to her before laying his hand on her forehead.  She didn't seem to mind his touch but she didn't look at him.


He turned her chin gently so she had to meet his eyes.  "I am sorry.  If I'd known how powerful this would be, I'd have prepared you for it."


She took a breath, the sound was still ragged.  "Maybe it's better that you didn't.  For it to work with David, it's going to have to be the real thing."


He smiled, let go of her face.  "This is true."  He glanced over at the orb.  "Tomorrow, Mac, we'll work on how you're going to use it."


"Why can't you do it?" Chris asked.   "You're the big magician, right?"


Weasel smiled at her. "I can't.  Your buddy here has to do it."


She looked at Kirk, then back at Weasel.  "But why?"


Kirk suddenly wondered why he hadn't asked that.


"Because I can't."


"But you're his teacher.  You're more powerful.  You can." 


Kirk had a feeling she was glaring at Weasel, giving him the slayer stare.


Weasel sat down on a stool, stared at the floor.  "I can do magic here.  At the motel.   But nowhere else."


"That's bull," Kirk said.  "That morning in the morgue.  With Carl.  You did--"


"--I did nothing.  You did it, Mac.  I just told you what to do."  Weasel shook his head.  "I'd be no use to you at all out there."  He laughed, the sound was extraordinarily bitter.  "Here's some free advice:  Never piss off The Powers That Be." 


"I don't understand," Kirk said.


Weasel waved his arms around, seemed to be encompassing more than the room.  "This place is a dimensional way station.  I'm the station master.  I have been ever since I thought I didn't need to listen to the Powers.  They showed me.  They put me in charge of this rat trap."  He grinned at Kirk.  "Yeah, you sure called it."


"And you can't do magic outside of it?"


Weasel shook his head.  "If I want to wield magic, I have to do it here.  I have extremely limited reach outside the motel--a couple of meters or so."


"So you're trapped?" Chris asked.


"I can leave anytime I want.  But I'm normal out there, worse than normal.  I'm diminished."  He stood up.  "I've got to go check on that new arrival.  She can be a bit tetchy."


"Who are they?  These arrivals?"


Weasel smiled.  "Beings in need of a little rest.  Working for the powers.  They're safe as long as they're here.  Free to relax, let down their guard and sleep, take a swim, whatever the motel offers...which admittedly isn't much.  But sometimes clean sheets and not having to be afraid are more than enough to make a vacation."  He stood, walked over to them.  "Drink up," he told her.


She finished her tea, handed him the cup.  "Thanks."


He touched her hair.  "I am sorry."


She nodded, watched him as he walked out.  Kirk ran his finger along her cheek and smiled when she turned to look at him.


"I'm sorry too."


She nodded.  "I know you'd never hurt me intentionally.  You just didn't think to ask."


"I should have."


"He told you not to."


Kirk nodded.   Yes, Weasel had told him not to, and he'd followed his instructions blindly.  Was that good?


Chris shook her head.  "It's done, Jim.  Just hold me until I'm warm again?"


He nodded, tucked the throw around her more securely.


"It was a nice kiss," she said softly. 


When he looked at her, she grinned.


"You must be feeling better," he said, unable to work much of a smile up himself.  If it hadn't been for him, she wouldn't have been feeing bad in the first place.


She nodded, closing her eyes and relaxing against him.


He held her, watched her sleep until it was time for him to wake her up.  His leg fell asleep and his arms ached, but it seemed a small price to pay after what he'd put her through.




Christine glared at Uhura as she tried to keep up with her.  "Why are you here, Ny?"


"Because our good friend and former boss said he was worried about you.  And Nogura called a late meeting, or he'd be here too."  Uhura sighed.  She didn't like this any better than Christine did.  "You do seem a bit on edge."


"Really?"  Christine seemed about to say more, then suddenly turned, scanning back the way they had come.


"What is it?"


Christine shook her head.  "Something's out here with us."


Uhura looked around.  "Wharton?"


Christine shook her head.  "Not him.  Not a vampire."  She frowned.  "It's weird.  I get a feeling like we're being watched, and then it goes away."  She stared at the bushes, as if willing something to rise up out of them.


Footsteps sounded on the walkway behind them and they both turned.  A young woman was coming toward them, holding a bunch of dead flowers in her hand.


Uhura could see Christine tense.


"What are you doing?" her friend asked the girl.


"Visiting a grave.  What do you think I'm doing?"  The young woman dumped the dead flowers into a bin.  "Who died and made you queen of the cemetery?"


The girl was only about sixteen, Uhura decided.  But she was wearing a lot of makeup and looked older.  The look worked until she opened her mouth.  Her attitude screamed bratty teenager. 


Christine suddenly pulled out a cross and laid it against the girl's bare arm.


Her skin didn't sizzle. 


She looked down at the cross, shot Christine a look rife with disgust, and jerked her arm away.  "You are a freak, lady."  She hurried down the path toward the entrance.


"Well, she sure summed up my existence.  I'm a freak."  Christine shoved the cross back in her pocket.  She sighed.  Then she looked off to her side.  "Now, it's David."


"Where?"  Uhura looked around but saw nothing.


"In the bushes, to the left of that rhododendron."  The light colored flowers glowed white in the lamplight.  "Hello, David.  We see you."


Uhura still couldn't see him, not until he stepped out of the bushes.  "Hello, Christine.  Ah and Nyota, isn't it?  I'm sorry I had to leave our last meeting so hastily."


"I'm not."


He laughed.  "I do like you.  Are you seeing anyone currently?  Because if not, I'd love to get my name on your dance card."


"I'm seeing someone.  And I don't dance."


"Pity."  Wharton smiled; it was a calculated smile.  "Where is he, by the way?  Your beau?"


Uhura could feel her face fall.  Len had been due back in a few days, but he'd called earlier to tell her he was extending.  M'Benga needed him; the sick and wounded needed him.  She hadn't asked him if it mattered that she needed him.  He wouldn't be home until just before she was due to ship out.  She'd been hard pressed to find a logical reason why he should give up doing something that made him feel good.  Something that helped so many others.  Especially when she was leaving him very soon.  So she'd said she understood.  But it still hurt.


"Hit a nerve, did I?"


Christine looked at her, confused.


Uhura shook her head.  "I'll tell you later."  She glared at Wharton.  "It's none of your business."


"Too bad.  I'd love it to be.  You're a very exciting woman."


Christine shot her a look laced with some dark amusement.  "I don't know whether to be jealous or not?"


"Not." Uhura said.


"You know Dracula had his many wives, I'd be happy to reinvigorate that tradition.  You two would be a wonderful start."  He laughed.  "Maybe we can add that cute little werewolf."  He made a growling noise.


Christine shook her head.  "I think not."


Uhura forced her thoughts back from the naughty place they'd just gone and realized Christine was staring at her.  "Right.  Not interested."


Wharton laughed.  "So I assume you aren't just out here for your health?  Looking for me, were you?"  He leaned in, a conspiring look on his face.  "Or were you looking for a vampire you could actually slay?"


"Haven't seen many of your fledglings lately, David.  You run out of bad guys to turn?"


He shrugged.  "I'm not the cold blooded killer you deem me, Christine.  It pains me to think that you hold me in such disregard."


"Right."  Christine touched her pocket, as if reassuring herself that the stake was still in there. 


Uhura knew she had one of the phasers Kirk had insisted they all start carrying in her other pocket.


"Besides," Wharton said with a smile.  "There are plenty of older vampires around for you to take on."  His smiled turned mocking.  "We've gone over why they're here."


Uhura looked at Christine, her turn to be confused.


"There aren't any other slayers here, David.  Emma told me."


"And Emma is such a tower of truth."  He grinned at Uhura, as if the two of them were in on some big joke.  "Her watcher is nothing like the other watchers, you see.  She'd never lie to Christine."


"I trust her."


"And we've been over this, Christine."  Wharton was walking backwards as Christine advanced. 


Uhura followed along, feeling a bit helpless to fully understand the dynamic between these two. 


Wharton spun around, pulling out a stake as he did it.  "Time to pull out that pretty crossbow, my dear."


Christine didn't even argue with him.  Uhura thought that was a bad sign, knew she was right when she saw four vampires moving across the lawn toward them.


Wharton turned to her, "Do you have a stake?"


She nodded, pulled it out.


"I hope you know how to use it."


She grinned as bravely as she could.  It had been a long time since she'd admitted to anyone that she was afraid.  It still embarrassed her that, when she was younger, she'd seemed to have no internal censor.  "I can hold my own."  Her words came out a lot ballsier than she felt.


"Just stay back," Christine said.  "Let us handle it." 


"Not a problem," Uhura muttered, backing up against a tree.


Christine loaded a bolt in the crossbow, let it fire.  The vampire dodged and it caught him in the shoulder.  He screamed in pain but didn't stop walking.


Christine loaded another bolt. 


Wharton looked over at her.  "Losing your touch, darling?"


"Oh, shut up.  You should have seen the shot I made a few nights ago."


"I did."  He smiled, an odd smile. "It was beautiful."


Christine seemed about to say something but the vampires charged.  She and Wharton met them, arms and legs flying out in hard punches and kicks.  The smallest vampire tried to rush around Wharton, toward Uhura, but Wharton tripped him, kicking him hard in the ribs even as he dodged a bone-crushing kick from one of the others.


Christine knocked her vampire off his feet, followed him down and was about to stake him when the vampire she'd shot kicked her off his buddy.  She turned the fall into a roll, was up to meet him as he charged at her.  She kicked high, inhumanly high, jamming the crossbow bolt in deeper.  He roared with pain again as she landed on her feet.  Her stake flashed and he exploded into dust.


But the one she'd thrown to the ground was rising and he didn't turn back to Christine, he rushed Uhura.  Christine saw him take off, was about to go after him when the smallest vampire also headed toward Uhura.  Wharton was too busy to stop him, so Christine went in pursuit.


Which left Uhura to handle the one headed her way.  She pulled out her stake, held it the way Christine had shown her.  But the vampire stopped before he got too close.  "You're no slayer.  You don't smell right."


"You're not one to complain about smell, mister."  She held up the stake.  "I do know how to use this."


He moved in, and she tried to follow him but he was too fast.  She brought the stake down, and felt it bite into flesh.  Unfortunately, it was the flesh of his arm.  He pulled the stake out and tossed it behind her. 


"No more stakes?"  He laughed.  His breath nearly knocked her over as he grabbed her, pulling her in for the bite.


"Something better."  She grabbed her phaser, held it to his shirt like Kirk had said to do.  And watched as it caught fire.  She pulled away from him.


The vampire screamed, hitting the ground and rolling.  As the flames went out, she turned to look for her stake.  It was just at the edge of the grass, and she leapt for it as the vampire yelled at her.  Her fingers touched the stake and she picked it up, managing to turn as he fell onto her, and directly onto the stake.


He was dust.  And the dust was settling all over her.  She coughed.  "Oh, god, that's disgusting."  She saw Christine and Wharton walking up, and pushed herself to a sitting position.  "Well, that wasn't fun."


Christine helped her up, gave Wharton a warning look when he reached down also.  "I can take care of her."


"Nice move with this," Wharton said, bending down and handing Uhura the phaser she hadn't even been aware she'd dropped. 


"We're not just whittling stakes anymore, David."  Christine shot him a look. 


"No.  I don't imagine you are."  He smiled at Christine.  The smile was an odd one, seeming to be a mixture of pride and caution.


"We will take you down.  Unless you give this up."  She moved closer, was about to touch his arm but seemed to think better of it.  "You're more than this vendetta."


He laughed.  "No, I'm not.  I was a watcher, after all."  He smiled fondly at Christine, then turned to Uhura.  "My dear, it was wonderful to see you again.  If you'd ever like to have coffee..."


Christine turned Uhura toward the path home.  "She would not like to.  Not ever."


"A great pity."  Wharton threw them both a courtly bow.  "You go home now.  I'll patrol tonight."  For a moment he appeared gawky, and unsure. 


Uhura finally understood how Christine could have been fooled.  Once he was gone, she said, "So that's what Thompson was like?"


Christine nodded.  Then she looked at her, started to laugh.  "He sure does seem taken with you.  If I thought it would make any difference, I might use you against him."


Uhura nodded.  "You would too.  You'd leave me all helpless with him.  Alone with his vampire awfulness."


Christine laughed harder.  "Yeah, black hair and deep blue eyes being such a hardship."  She touched Uhura's arm.  "You did great, by the way."  She pulled out her phaser.  "I thought Jim was nuts when he wanted us to carry these.  Now I can't wait to try beheading a vamp with it."


"Okay, I could have lived without hearing that."  Uhura shook her head.  "Can we go back to talking about Mister Tall, Deadly, and Handsome?"


"Why, Miss Uhura," Christine said with an exaggerated southern accent.  "What would Doctor McCoy think?"


Uhura could feel her face fall again.




"He's not coming back.  Not for months."


Christine sighed.  "I'm sorry."


Uhura shrugged.  "I can't blame him.  I'm going away and he's making a huge difference.  But I miss him, you know?"


Christine nodded.  She put her arm around Uhura's shoulder, pulled her close.  "Men are so dumb."


Uhura just nodded, didn't want to let Christine know she was crying softly. 


Christine's arm tightened around her.  "So goddamned dumb."




Christine took another kick at the punching bag, then turned to watch Emma pace.  "Are you going to tell me what Silver has planned?"


Emma reached into the chest of weapons, drew out a battle axe.  "No."


"Unless you get a shot at David's head, that won't work against him.  Not if he's wearing body armor."


"I know."  Emma slammed the axe back down.  It made a loud crashing sound as it hit the other weapons, and Emma closed her eyes as if in pain.




She shook her head.  '"It's just another migraine, Christine.  Stop worrying."


"When this is all over, I'm going to do a full work up on you."


Emma turned to look at her.  "Yes, fine.  When this is all over."  There was something odd in her expression, something dodgy.


"Emma, what the hell is wrong?"


"Other than the homicidal maniac who wants me and my colleagues dead, you mean?"


Christine turned back to the punching bag.  "Yeah, other than that."  She took a solid swing.


Emma came around to the other side, held the bag in place for her.  "I'm sorry.  I'm just..."




Emma looked away.


"It's not wrong to admit that you're frightened."  Christine shook her head at her watcher's look of stubbornness.  "I won't think you're weak.  Just human."


Emma sighed.  "Oh, I'm human, all right."  She shook her head.  "Mortal."


"Yes.  It's what separates us from the toothy menaces we fight, remember?  Human, mortal.  Vampire, immortal."


"I see you were paying attention to some of your early lessons."


Christine laughed.  "Roger wasn't tolerant of my goofing off."  She sighed.  Roger hadn't been tolerant, period. 


"Did you love him?"  Emma held a hand up.  "I mean as more than a friend."


Christine thought about it.  "Roger was never my friend, Emma."


"But you cared for him?"


Christine shrugged, turned away from the punching bag and sat on the mat to stretch.  Emma sat down near her.


Christine sighed.  "After Anticles killed Marcus, after I hunted Anticles down and killed him for it, I was lost."


"Like you were this time?"


Christine thought about that.  "No, I think this time was worse because I'd been there before."


"I can see that."  Emma waited for her to continue.  Finally said, "Go on."


"I'd been a good slayer, fairly obedient, which I'm sure is hard for you to believe." She laughed at Emma's expression.  "Until I met Marcus, I didn't question things.  I just did what Roger told me.  Maybe because my own father wasn't very strong, it was nice to have a watcher father to take his place.  I always knew where I stood with Roger.  If he was displeased, there was no doubting it."


She sighed.  It was so hard to balance what she knew now about Roger's role in the Cruciamentum with the kind if strict watcher, and later the tender lover, she'd known.  "He was the one who urged me to try for college, he helped guide my curriculum."


Emma raised an eyebrow, "Yes, into exactly the field that would keep you in his orbit."


Christine looked down.  "I guess."


Emma made a funny noise, and Christine looked up. 


"You do realize that as a father figure, he should not have taken your relationship further?  To one of romance, of sex."  Emma shook her head.  "It's deeply frowned upon by the council.  I can't begin to tell you what an abomination it is.  To betray that level of trust, to take it that direction--"


"--I was hurt and he took care of me.  I wanted to hunt Anticles down and he helped me--he found out where the vampires were in direct defiance of the council's orders.  He waited for me to come back, sure that I would return.  And I did.  I know you think it's wrong, but at some point, he fell in love with me.  And I was grateful for that love."  She looked down again.  "I was never in love with him though.  I just wanted to forget.  To be taken care of for once, not to have to be the one doing the protecting.  He offered me sanctuary, and I took it."  She laughed as she met Emma's eyes.  "And then he disappeared.  So much for my sanctuary."


"The ship became your sanctuary while you searched for him, didn't it?"


Christine nodded.  She knew what came next.  "And Spock."  She sighed.  "The bond was the ultimate sanctuary."


"Yes, it was."  Emma lay back on the mats, massaging her temples.  "What was it like?"


Christine took a deep breath.  "It was the most intimate touch, the most reassuring love.  When we first bonded, I couldn't tell which part of what I was feeling was really me and which was Spock.  It was unimaginable.  To touch from within, to reach out and not just feel him reach back but to feel him encompass me with his love, his concern.  I know he kept me sane just before the Gotterdammerung.  I was teetering."


Emma nodded.  "It must have been wonderful."


"It was."  Christine wiped at her eyes.  When had she started to cry?


"Why did you run away?"


Christine didn't answer.


"Why didn't you want it back?"


"I did.  But I was afraid."


"Afraid of what?"  Emma closed her eyes, laid her hand over them as if to block out the small amount of light coming through her lids.


"Afraid of losing that closeness again.  Afraid I wouldn't be able to handle it, not after the orb."


"There has to be more to it than that."  Emma opened her eyes, squinted at her.  "Were you afraid you'd drown in it?"


Christine looked away. 


"It was forever, wasn't it?"


Christine nodded.


"Who's your sanctuary now, Christine?"  Emma sat up, stared hard at her.  "Who keeps you safe?"


Christine began to smile.  "I don't have a sanctuary.  I have friends."


Emma patted her hand.  "Very good, my dear."  She leaned back again, closing her eyes.  "Although the bond sounds nice in some ways.  I imagine the sex was amazing."


"It was."


Emma nodded.  "Vulcans always seem so stodgy."


"Coming from tweed-woman that's really saying something."


Emma stuck her tongue out.  "I've had quite a nice sex life, thank you very much."


"Well, so have most Vulcans I've met."  Christine studied her watcher for a moment.  "It must feel like such a betrayal.  That it's David, I mean.  You loved him."


"Yes.  I did."  Emma pushed herself to her feet.  "I'm hungry.  Aren't you?"  She pulled Christine to her feet.  "Let's go out."




"To hell with David.  I want to eat out."


"It's not a good idea, Emma."


Emma glared at her.  "I don't care.  I'm sick of being trapped inside these walls."  She hurried up the stairs.


Christine was right behind her.  As Emma got to the door, was about to open it, Christine pulled her back. 


"No, Emma.  No."


Emma's lip was trembling.  "I'm going to go crazy if I have to stay in here."


"I'll stay here with you.  We'll order some food in, all right?"


Emma seemed to be shaking.  "I want to go out.  I need fresh air."


"Tomorrow.  When it's light.  You can spend the whole day out.  Just stay in now, yes?"


Their eyes met, and a battle of wills seemed to be fought in their stare.  Finally, Emma looked away.


"Yes.  Of course, you're right."  Emma seemed to stand straighter; she walked slowly upstairs toward the comm unit.  "What are you in the mood for?  Chinese?"


"Chinese is fine.  Whatever you want."


Emma shook her head.  "It doesn't matter anymore."  She closed her eyes for a moment, then she dialed up the menu for the nearest Chinese restaurant.




Kirk was just getting ready to leave for the day when Commander Hall commed him.  "Sir, there is a Lieutenant Chekov holding for you."


"Put him through."  Kirk waited for a moment, then said, "Pavel?  Tell me you've got something to show me?"


"Aye, sir.  Can you meet us in firing range fourteen?"




Sulu's voice came over the comm.  "Pav didn't think you would mind reinforcements, sir."


Kirk smiled.  "Two heads are better than one.  I can be there in twenty minutes."


"Affirmative.  Chekov out."


Kirk shut off his lights and walked into the anteroom.  He nodded at his aide.  "Good night, Commander."


Hall nodded, busy composing something on his terminal.


Kirk stopped.  "What made you take this assignment, Hall?"




"Why are you here?  In admin?"


Hall smiled.  The expression looked genuine.  "Sir, I'd scrub the floors if it meant serving under you."


Kirk waved the compliment away.  The answer didn't help him much.  It was exactly what someone would say if they were trying to appear to not be a spy.  "And you feel fulfilled in this assignment?"


Hall's smile was less bright.  "Sir, permission to speak freely?"




"You don't appear to trust me."


"What gives you that idea?"


"You don't talk to me much.  I don't feel as though I know you any better now than when I started here.  It's a bit disconcerting."


Kirk pursed his lips.  "I'm sorry if I've made it seem I don't trust you.  I'll try to do better."


Hall's smile was brilliant, but Kirk thought he saw a small note of triumph in the expression. 


He hated not being able to trust his own aide.  With a sigh, he nodded goodnight and went out into the late afternoon sunshine.  The walk to the firing range was short and the day was pleasant. 


He pulled out his communicator and paged Chris.  She didn't answer, and he got her service.  He decided not to leave a message.


He felt the small box in his pocket jab him in the ribs.  He moved it slightly, so that it wouldn't poke him.  The box was well-padded inside to keep the orb safe.  Kirk yawned; he was still tired from what Weasel had shown him that morning.  Although the spell seemed easy enough to execute, it was the prep work that had taken time.  If he was going to be the one to use the spell, he had to put on the final touches.  It had been exhausting...and exhilarating, like most of the work he did with Weasel.


The firing range came into view and he walked in, nodding to the ensign on duty.  "Range fourteen?" he asked.


"Down that way, sir, third door from the end."




"My pleasure, Admiral Kirk."  The ensign smiled, a smile full of hero worship.  Another fan. 


Kirk still found it hard to get used to the idea that kids like the ensign were studying his exploits.  Using them as discussion springboards in their Academy classes.  It made him feel good--and old.


Range fourteen had the privacy lock on it.  He rang the buzzer, stood in front of the ID slot.


The door opened.  "Come in, sir." Sulu said, peeking into the corridor before closing the door again.


"Expecting someone, Hikaru?"


Sulu smiled.  "No.  But better safe than sorry."


Kirk laughed.  "Why?  We're not doing anything wrong."  He looked at Chekov.  "Are we?"


"Making a new weapon is irregular, sir."


"But not unheard of."  Kirk grinned.


"Well.  No."  Chekov gestured toward the end of the range.  "I hope that fits the specs?"


Kirk looked down the range.  A mannequin, in body armor, stood roughly fifteen meters away.  "That's the ticket."


"Sir."  Sulu looked concerned.  "You're not going to be using this on people, are you?"


"Well, not people in the normal sense of the word."


Chekov smiled knowingly.  "I told you this has something to do with Christine.  And the vampires we're not supposed to know about."  He looked at Kirk.  "Isn't that right, sir?"


"Something like that."  He grinned.  "So, show me how this works."


Chekov hefted the weapon, it was a little smaller than a phaser rifle.  "Sorry, sir.  We tried to make it smaller but we couldn't get the thrust we needed on the thermite rocket."


Sulu nodded.  "We wanted it to be something you could carry without being noticed."  He held up a violin case that had been modified on the inside to hold the gun.  "Next best thing?"


Kirk laughed.  "I'm a little old to be taking up orchestra."  He nodded.  "But good idea."


Chekov hit a switch and pulled open a compartment in the middle of the gun.  "This is where you load your ammo."  He reached into another bag, pulled out a very small rocket.  "This goes here.  Pointy end facing out."


Kirk shot him a look.


Sulu shook his head.


"I'm sorry, sir.  I am used to dealing with idiots."


Kirk laughed.  "No need to apologize, Mister Chekov.  Pointy end out.  What next?" 


Chekov closed up the hatch, then hit a switch.  The machine began to hum.  "We wait for the weapon to charge.  The launch feature is dependent on the weapon being fully powered up."


"How long does that take?"


"Two minutes max.  Depends on how much charge is remaining."


Kirk nodded.  "I can pre-charge?"


Sulu nodded.  "It takes ten seconds to reach firing stage when fully charged."


A light on the side of the weapon turned from red to green, and the hum changed to a low whine.  "It's ready," Chekov said, hefting it to his shoulder.  "Point it where you want it to go.  We have laser sights, as you can see on the target."


Kirk looked, a small red dot illuminated the heart of the body armor.


"Or you can turn it off."  Chekov showed him the switch.  "It's a squeeze trigger.  Not terribly sensitive, but there's a bit of a kick.  My shoulder is sore from our preliminary tests."  He put the weapon down, turned it off and took the ammo out.  "You try, sir."


Kirk loaded it up, turned it on, and waited for the light to go on.  "Ready or not..."  He lifted the weapon to his shoulder.  He left the laser site on, letting it show him where Wharton's heart would be. Then he turned it off.  No need to give Wharton any warning.  And he was going to have to be able to target it by eye.  "Just squeeze?"


"It helps to hold your breath," Sulu said.  "And be ready for the kick."


Kirk took a deep breath, sighted again to make sure he was where he wanted to be, and squeezed the trigger gently.  The weapon fired, the gun kicked hard into his shoulder, and the rocket flew down the range.  It hit the body armor, dug in enough to puncture it, then the thermite warhead exploded, causing a bigger hole in the armor.  Fire broke out, burning deep into the mannequin but none of the chemical mixture fell to the floor.


"Stays where you put it," Kirk said with satisfaction.


Chekov smiled.  "I should think on a vampire"--he waited for Kirk's look, smiled when he got it--"it will burn faster.  They seem to be fire averse?"


Kirk looked down at the gaping hole in the body armor, just over where the heart would be.  "Even if it doesn't, we've got ourselves an opening.  And that's what we didn't have before."


Sulu took the weapon from him and placed it in the violin case.  There was room for three rockets, and he set those in and shut the case.  "The rockets aren't particularly flammable under normal circumstances.  You need something thermite hot or hotter to light the mix we came up with."


"This is great."


"We did our best, sir."


Kirk smiled.  "And your best is damned good."


They both grinned.


Sulu handed Kirk the other bag.  "More ammo.  In case you need it."


Kirk took it but he had a feeling they'd get one shot, maybe two, if they were lucky.  Of course, it wouldn't hurt to keep the weapon around.  In case some vampire friend of David's came to call once Chris was gone.


He felt a pang.  Forced himself to say it again in his head.  Once Chris was gone.  She was leaving.  She'd be on his ship with these two and Uhura and Scotty.  And he'd be stuck here.


His look must have reflected his thoughts because Sulu said gently, "Sir?  Are you all right?"


Kirk nodded.  "Just fine."  He slung the strap for the violin case over his shoulder, hefted the ammo over the other one.  "I feel like a pack mule."  He grinned at them.  "Thank you."


Chekov said, "It was nothing, sir."


Sulu nodded.


"It was everything.  To know I can count on you."  He smiled.  "Enjoy yourselves on my ship," he said as he pushed the door button to get out.  "Don't let Decker run her into a planet."


"Well, Hikaru will be steering, so it will be his fault, sir."  Chekov laughed at Sulu's expression.


Kirk stared at them a moment, then smiled.  "I had the finest crew a captain could want."  Then he turned and hurried away.




Christine was about to leave on patrol when her chime rang.  She smiled.  Only one person could get through the security screener at the front door on his own.  She opened her door and laughed when she saw the violin case Jim was carrying.  "Taking up music in your spare time?"


"Funny."  He set the case and another bag down and pulled her into a hug.


She let herself relax against him.  "Not that I don't love this, but what's the occasion?"


He kissed her neck, then pulled away.  "I still feel bad about that damn spell."


She shrugged.  "Did it work?"


He nodded, patted his pocket.  "One orb ready for action."


"Then it's all right."  She smiled, nodded at the case.  "Is that our baby?"


"It is.  It cut a hole this big in some Starfleet body armor."  He illustrated the size of the rip with his hands.  "But it's got a kick like you wouldn't believe."  He rubbed his shoulder.


She opened the case, pulled out the weapon.  "How does it work?"


He ran her through the steps and she listened to the hum change tone, turn into a whine that meant it was ready.  She switched the thing off, put it back in the case.  Turning, she walked into her kitchen and stared out the small window that looked out on nothing but another building. 


"You don't want to have to use it on him, do you?"


She shook her head, felt his arms come around her. 


"What if he threatens Emma, Chris?"


"I didn't say I wouldn't use it on him.  Just that I don't want to.  He's fought with me."  She leaned against him; the solid warmth of him was such a comfort.  "He looks out for me."  


He let go of her.  "I know he does."  She could hear him pacing behind her.  "He told me to take you away from here."


"You can't.  Not unless we take Emma, and she'd never go."  She turned to look at him.  "It'll be soon."


He nodded.  "Maybe tonight?"


"Maybe."  She exhaled slowly, trying to find some measure of calm.  "He's going to have a surprise for us.  It's his nature."


"Do you know what the watchers have planned?"


She shook her head.  "Emma's intent on keeping me out of this."


"She should know better."


"Yes, she should."  She walked toward him.  "I think it's time we started shadowing her." 


He frowned.  "Even if that means that David is following us right to her."


"He already knows where she is.  And if we don't follow her or Silver, then we'll miss the fight.  I'd rather follow Silver, but he's keeping a low profile."  She was embarrassed to admit she had no idea where Silver was staying.


"You want to start tonight?"


She nodded.


"Okay.  Let's go."  He grabbed the violin case and took a few extra rockets out of the bag, shoving them into his inside pocket.


She grabbed her crossbow and the container of extra bolts, then jammed a few stakes into various pockets.  The phaser went into another pocket.  She followed Jim out the door, then she ran back into the room and grabbed more stakes, pushing them up her sleeve.




She nodded, her face grim.  She didn't know why she felt safer with more stakes.  How many vampires did she think they might find?  It was just David, wasn't it?


She followed Jim out; they walked quickly to Emma's townhouse.  The lights were on low in the front room and they could see her moving, her shadow occasionally crossing the blinds.


Christine led him down the street, to a spot hidden by the bushes of the neighboring yard, secluded enough to watch.  "This could get old."


He smiled at her.  "Still beats the desk job." 


She shook her head.  "Find something else to do, Jim.  Get back into space."


"Too late for that."


She studied him.  The set jaw, the shuttered expression.  "I don't have to go."


"Yes, you do.  But life sure will be dull without you."  He made a face.  "Weasel will just have to come up with more challenges for me."


"I guess so."  She sighed.  "I didn't like him at first."


"He grows on you.  Give him a chance."


She nodded, then looked down for a moment.  "This is dumb, isn't it?  Just lurking like this.  What if nothing happens?"


He smiled.  "You have a feeling about tonight, don't you?"


She met his eyes.  Every slayer sense she had was going off full force.  And it wasn't because David was around.  For once, she didn't think he was following her.  Maybe that was what was setting her off--not having him around?


He looked down the street.  "I think it'll be tonight too."


She sighed.  "Why can't he just go away?"


"He's as stubborn as they are. Why can't any of them walk away?"


"He's a vampire.  I keep having to remind myself of that.  He nearly killed Emma once already, he tried to turn me--not very hard, but he still bit me--and he killed the watcher that was following me.  He may be charming, and he may make sense.  But he's not a good man."


Kirk just watched her. 


"Jump in at any time."


He smiled, indicating she had the floor.


She rolled her eyes.  "It's just that the watchers aren't good men either.  Emma's different.  And Peter.  But the rest of them."  She shook her head. 


"Lesser of two evils then?"




There was a long silence then he turned suddenly, looking down the street the way they'd come.  "Chris?  Did someone order an army?"


She looked out and felt her stomach heave, was afraid for a moment she'd be sick.  Silver and three other watchers were in fact leading an army.  An army of slayers.


"She lied."  She started to move, toward Emma's townhouse.


Kirk caught her arm.  "You don't know that."


"He told me, and I didn't believe him."  She wrenched her arm out of his grasp, and strode angrily down the street.


She was just in time to see Emma come out of her house, an expression that looked much like the one Christine thought she must be wearing on her face.  She turned, saw Christine walking toward her.  "I had no idea," she said, as she walked toward her.


Silver stepped closer.  One of the slayers shadowed him.  It was the girl from the cemetery.  The one who'd dumped the dead flowers.


"Now I know why you said I was a freak.  It takes one to know one," Christine said. 


The girl ignored her.


"Kevin, what the hell is this?"  Emma was as angry as Christine had ever seen her.


"We're going to go deal with our little problem."  Silver turned to look at Christine.  "You are not welcome here."


"Tough.  This is my city, she's my watcher, and like it or not, David's my responsibility."


Silver moved closer.  So did his slayer. 


Christine looked at the girl.  "Don't even think of it."


The girl smiled.  The expression was mocking.  "Think you can take me, grandma?"


"She doesn't like cracks about her age," a familiar voice called from above them.  David stood on the rooftop of Emma's townhouse.  Grinning.


"David," Emma said, the word barely more than a breath. 


"Hello, lover."  He shook his head.  "We aren't going to brawl in the street like common hooligans, are we, Kevin?"


"You know a better place, David?"  Silver's voice was devoid of emotion.


"Why the cemetery of course.  It's tradition."  David winked at Christine.  "Hello, darling."




"And you too, dear heart," David said with a laugh, blowing Kirk a kiss.


"Wharton."  He didn't smile.


"You're on good terms with the vampire, grandma." 


Christine resisted the urge to beat the cocky youngster's face in.  She turned away, then lost her balance as the girl's foot kicked her legs out from each other.  She fell to the pavement, the skin on her hand scraping as she caught herself and felt her wrist wrench.  She ignored the pain, twisted and moved toward rather than away from the girl.  She kicked out with one foot, then turned it into vicious scissor kick, knocking the girl's knee sideways.  The other slayer fell hard.  Tried to get up and fell back.


Christine pushed herself up, walked over and dragged the girl up by her collar.  "Only a coward attacks someone when her back is turned."  She looked up at David, remembering how she had thrown the stake at his back.


He laughed, as if thinking of the same thing.


The girl started to kick out and Christine threw her back, into the other watchers. 


"Nice children you're raising, Silver.  With friends like that, who needs enemies?"


"We're not your friends."  The girl got up slowly.  She stepped gingerly down, made a face but managed to walk on a knee that would have been broken had she been a normal person.


"Lynda, that's enough fraternizing."  Silver waved her off.


She kept walking toward Christine.


"I said, that's enough."  He stepped in front of her, stared at her until the girl backed off.  Then he turned to Christine.  "We don't need your help with this."  He looked at Emma.  "Are you coming?"


He didn't wait for her answer, just walked off, his army behind him. 


"Emma.  Don't go."  Christine tried to block Emma's path.  "He's lied to you.  Let him fight this war.  You stay here."


Emma touched her face, smiled tenderly.  "You don't understand him, Christine.  You never have."


"I don't want to."


Emma nodded.  "I know you don't."  She started after Silver.  "I have to fight.  This is where it ends."


Christine closed her eyes.  Then she looked over at Kirk.  "I guess we fight."


He touched the violin case.  "I guess so."  He fell into step beside her as they hurried to shadow Emma.  "Although for the record, that many slayers seems like overkill."


"I agree."  She wasn't sure body armor would save David when he was facing so many slayers.


They followed the grim and silent parade to the cemetery.  As they walked away from the bustle of the main street, Kirk stopped.  She followed his gaze and stopped walking too.


"Maybe it's not overkill," Kirk said softly.


An army of vampires waited for the slayers.  David was nowhere to be seen.


"Damn him."  Emma turned to Christine.  "Keep an eye out."


"One step ahead of you," Christine said as she loaded her crossbow.  "Let the junior league fight the newborns.  I'm sticking close to you, Emma."


The slayers charged the vampires.


Emma turned and looked out over the melee.  "You've already fought one Gotterdammerung.  You don't need another."


Christine shook her head.  "This isn't even close, Emma."  She looked back at Kirk.


He was kneeling down and loading the weapon with one of the rockets, starting it up to charge.  She could barely hear the hum with all the grunting of slayers versus vampires. 


He looked up at her.  "I can't really say.  I was a little distracted through most of the fighting.  Almost being turned and all."




Silver walked over to her.


Christine moved away from him a bit.  "Still just watching, Kevin?  Don't you ever _do_ anything?"


His face was grim.  "Chapel, we don't need you here."


"I beg to differ."


Emma stepped between them.  "Leave her alone, Kevin."


His expression became softer as he looked at Emma, then he turned to Christine.  "Go away."




One of the other watchers came up and handed him a crossbow.  He turned and began to fire into the fighting, taking out several vampires.


"So you can fight."


"Yes, I can.  Why aren't you doing the same?"


"Because she's smarter than you are, Kevin," David said from behind them.


They all turned.  He wasn't there.


"What's the matter, your eyes going bad?"  The sound came from the other direction now.


Kirk walked to a bench near where the sound was coming from.  He bent down, dug around under the bench and came out with a small amplifier. 


"Oh, very good, my friend."  David laughed.  "I'm afraid that's as close as any of you will get to me tonight.  Have fun with your little war."


The sound of his cheery goodbye was nearly drowned out by the fighting going on around them.




"I heard there was a major skirmish in the cemetery last night?"  Lori smiled at Kirk as she walked into his office.  "You and your slayer have anything to do with that?"


"We were there.  In a strictly non-combatant role."  He studied Lori.  Chris had said she wasn't the enemy.  Why was his skin still crawling?  Was he just allergic to werewolves?  Or could Chris be wrong?


Lori was staring back at him, an amused look on her face.  "You don't trust me.  I can smell it."  She leaned in.  "But you aren't afraid of me.  I like that so much.  She's not afraid of me either."


"Chris isn't afraid of anything."  Except sewers, he amended silently.


"I know.  I saw that firsthand.  I think she was willing to do something rather foolish for me and mine."  Lori made a warning face at him.


He nodded.  "She thought it best I not know the details."


"You being so gallant."  Lori shook her head.  "I can't wait forever for her to make up her mind."


"I'm afraid she's a little busy."


Lori made an impatient face.  "It's not like this Wharton guy is an impending apocalypse.  That I can see taking precedence.  But one vampire?"  She leaned in.  "I could take him out, you know.  With a little help."


Kirk met her stare.  "Then do it."


She leaned back, blinked.  "I'm constrained.  If I could be sure of her willingness to share..."


He shook his head.  "I can't push her."


"You mean you won't push her."  Lori sighed.  Then she suddenly tensed, her nostrils flared and she looked at him in something like panic. 


Nogura poked his head in.  "Ah, there you are, Lori."  He walked over to her chair, put his hands on her shoulders.  "You weren't hiding, were you?"


She laughed, looked up at him with a sweet smile.  "Of course not, sir."


Nogura smiled, the look seemed proprietary.  He squeezed her shoulders.  Kirk felt his skin crawl. 


Nogura looked over at him.  He smiled, then let go of Lori.  "Don't let me interrupt your conversation."


She smiled again.  "We were just talking about the vampire-slayer rumble last night."


Nogura sat in the chair next to her.  "There was a day when we wouldn't have seen such public brawling in our fair city.  I expected better of the watchers."  He looked over at Kirk.  "I suppose Doctor Chapel was involved in some way?"


"It's complicated."


"Yes.  Everything about her seems to be complicated to you."  Nogura shook his head.  "I've never met a more stubborn man than you, Jim.  You want this woman."  He looked over at Lori.  "You've seen them together.  What do you think?"


"Oh, they've got a thing."


"See.  A thing.  So simple."  Nogura smiled.  "Keep her here with you, Jim.  It's such an easy concept for us to grasp, isn't it, my dear?"


Lori smiled at him easily.  "Oh, yes." 


Kirk watched her, surprised she could hide her fear, her hatred so well.  But years lived under the man's thumb must have taught her to dissemble.


"Decker needs a CMO, Jim."


Kirk turned back to him, startled at the abrupt shift in the conversation.


Nogura laughed.  "It's obvious you're determined to be noble and let her go.  If that's the case, wouldn't you like to see her in a position of more authority?"




"You don't think she's capable?  As head nurse, she had a large part in running your sickbay.  And she's a slayer.  She's more than capable of leading others--we know she had a significant role in that dreadful battle on Vega Hydra."  He leaned back.  "Wouldn't you like to see her rewarded for all her hard work?" 


Kirk was unsure what to say.


"I realize she may not be able to deliver Kirsu to me.  But she knows enough about it to help lead the search for it.  On the Enterprise.  Decker won't question her, not if he knows she has my full support."


"You think she'll help you?"


Nogura nodded.  "I do.  But you have to help me persuade her that it's for a good cause."


Lori smiled.  "It's a good offer.  She languished as an ensign for so long.  I've seen her credentials.  They're impressive.  This isn't that much of a stretch."  She looked over at Nogura.  "I can see Decker trusting her.  He seems more comfortable with women then men."


Nogura nodded.  "Matt's legacy."


Kirk felt his jaw tighten.


"I know, Jim.  It's harsh, but I'm not wrong.  I know people and Decker's an open book.  You know it too.  He's looking for meaning.  He wants to find truth at the end of the journey.  Truth, and light, and answers.  He's not like us."


Or like you, Kirk wanted to say but bit his tongue.


"Chris would be good for him."


Kirk bristled at the way her name sounded coming out of Nogura's mouth.


Nogura got up abruptly.  "Lunch, Lori?"


She stood up, smiled again.  The expression again perfectly open.  "I'm starved."


He laughed.  "You always are, my dear."  He looked at Kirk.  "Join us?"


"I think Jim's lost his appetite, Hei."


Nogura grinned.  "You need to grow a tougher skin, my friend.  You make it so easy for me to play you."  He turned and walked out.


Lori looked at him and mouthed, "Sorry."  Then she followed him out.


Kirk closed his eyes, tried to roll out the tension in his shoulders.  He hadn't slept well last night.  Had been too keyed up after watching the slayers fight the vampires, after not joining in.  He'd been surprised Chris could stand there and not dive in.  But other than handing out a few fresh stakes, she'd stayed out of the fight.  Just kept looking back and around them.  As if David would jump out at them, try to hurt Emma.


And maybe she'd been right.  She knew him better than any of them possibly.


The slayers had taken most of the vampires out.  But not without casualties of their own.  He'd seen three girls fall, one of them had laid on the ground, her head at an odd angle.


"Neck's broken," Chris had whispered to him.  She'd looked away.


It was just one of her possible fates.  To die like that.  He hated that he thought about it.  Her dying. 


She'd already died once.  McCoy had brought her back. And if he hadn't, LaVelle and her slayers would have.


Nobody would bring back the slayers who had fallen last night.


His comm unit buzzed.  "Yes."


"Sir, there's a Mister Silver here to see you."


Kirk laughed softly.  "Show him in, Commander."  Kevin Silver?  To see him?


Could his day get any weirder?


Kirk laughed.  Of course, it could.  Every Starfleet cadet knew the saying.  Weird was part of the job...and his life was even weirder since he'd dived into the wonderland behind the magic mirror.


He didn't stand when Silver walked in. 


Silver walked around the office, looking over the framed commendations, the medals.  "Quite impressive, Admiral."  He turned to look at Kirk.


He shrugged.  "If you've seen one medal..."


Silver smiled.  "There are some who say that about slayers.  Yet I find each girl unique."


Kirk's expression was steely.  "They stop being girls eventually, Mister Silver."


"Please call me Kevin."


"I'd rather not."


Silver sat down.  He smiled.  "You're very protective of Chapel, aren't you?  I noticed that last night."


Kirk leaned forward, gave Silver his best dangerous smile.  "I've heard Wharton's message.  I've taken it in.  I know about the Cruciamentum.  I know that you've abused your powers with these _girls_."


Silver's face tightened.  "We have traditions.  They've held up for centuries because they work."


"Work?  At what?  Murdering innocent women?"


Silver shook his head.  "I don't expect you to understand.  You're not part of this.  And you've had only her side of the story."


"Not true.  She didn't tell me about your barbaric little test.  Wharton did."


"He's hardly the voice of reason."


"Interestingly enough, I think he is."  Kirk sighed.  "His methods leave something to be desired.  But his message is damned powerful."


Silver smiled, the expression was so clearly dismissive of anything Kirk might think.


"I assume you came here for a reason?" Kirk asked.


"I did.  I want you to keep Chapel away from us."


"Me?  Keep Chris away from you?"  Kirk laughed loud.  He imagined Commander Hall could hear him from the other room.  "I don't tell her what to do."


"She is in the way."


"How so?"


Silver didn't answer, just rose and turned away.


"That's it?  Keep her away.  One silly order and you're gone?"  Kirk laughed.  "It's no wonder you're losing your grasp on the council."


Silver turned to look at him.  "I will not lose my grasp on anything.  But your slayer"--he put a dark emphasis on the word 'your'--"may make a very valuable colleague lose her grasp on reason."




Silver sat back down.  He seemed to deflate as he stared at the floor.  "Emma."


"I don't understand."


"She was supposed to stay inside last night.  I was going to leave a slayer with her.  But she came out because of Chapel.  As long as that slayer is out, Emma won't stay in."


Kirk sat silently, unsure what to say.


"Don't you see?  She's what David wants most.  His former ally--now his greatest enemy.  After me."  Silver looked up at him.  "He nearly ripped her apart the last time.  In front of me.  Why do you think he did that?" 


When Kirk didn't answer, Silver slammed his hand down on Kirk's desk.


Kirk jumped in surprise.


"Why do you think he did that?"  Silver stood up, began to pace.  "Chapel could keep her in, but she won't.  She's too damned impulsive.  She'll try to save David, and Emma will follow her because she loves them both."


Kirk sighed.  "Does Emma know you love her?"


Silver glanced at him, shrugged.  He suddenly looked very old.  "I've never known."


"And you never wanted to tell her?"


"I'm the head of the council.  I have duties and obligations.  How I feel about Emma is irrelevant."


Kirk looked down. 


"In any case, she loves David.  She's never stopped loving him."  Silver shook his head.  "She's just wise enough to put it aside.  She's a skilled counselor after all."


"I can't keep Chris away.  She loves Emma.  She'd feel she was letting her down to not be there...to protect her."


Silver got up slowly.  "I'd hoped you might have some influence over her."  He smiled softly.  "She appears to listen to you.  Lord knows, she never has to me."


"If you're looking for sympathy, you're looking in the wrong place.  I'm solidly in her court."


Silver's smile faded.  "Then stay the hell out of our way from here on out.  If I see the two of you, it won't be just one slayer I send after you."  Silver leaned in, put his hand on Kirk's arm.  "I'm not someone you want to antagonize."


Kirk looked at Silver's hand.  "I think, Mister Silver, that you'll find that I'm not a man you want to antagonize either."  He closed his eyes, channeled fire the way Weasel had taught him.  He couldn't manage a burst of energy much past a centimeter.  In this case, that should do just fine.


He slammed his other hand down on Silver's arm and let the energy, which he'd coiled up like a spring, go.  It leapt out of his hand, covering the small distance to touch Silver's skin.  Hot energy, burning hot.  Fire.


Silver yelped.


Kirk let go of him, giving him a tight smile.  "Just a small demonstration of what I'm capable of."  He tried to keep a straight face.  Silver didn't need to know that he'd seen one of his few tricks.


The watcher's eyes narrowed as he jerked away from Kirk, cradling his arm, which was unmarked, but completely free of hair.  "Magic.  I don't hold with it."


"Spoken like one who could never manage to get it to work."


Silver turned on his heel and marched out.


Hall came in.  "Sir?  What is that smell?"


"Smell?"  He smiled.  For some reason, the odor of singed hair and sulphur didn't bother him at all.




Christine sighed in relief as she trudged up the steps of her apartment building.  Rounds had been exhausting, and they'd had an emergency that had taken most of the night to treat.  She'd been tired already from watching Silver's slayers take on David's vampires.


She still felt guilty for not helping, but it had been more important to protect Emma.  She was not entirely sure Silver would.  At least she'd brought those extra stakes.


She looked out into the night--morning really.  The sun was nearly up.  She hadn't meant to get home this late, had intended to be in before dark and back out again, staking out Emma's house with Jim.  But when she'd been held up, he'd gone on ahead.  She'd planned to join him hours ago.


When had she stopped worrying about him walking around in the dark alone?  Was it because he was getting stronger with the magic?  Or was it something else?  He seemed stronger to her.  Physically stronger.  Nothing obvious--although she knew he was working out at the gym.  But something deeper.  It could be just the confidence that magic gave him.  He was more comfortable in her frenzied supernatural world and that showed. 


But what if it was something else?  What if Anacost's blood was making him stronger somehow?  As far as she knew, no one had ever survived a near-turning the way he had.  It might make him stronger.  Might explain why he seemed to navigate in the dark as well as she did.  Even Spock had occasionally tripped when they patrolled.  But Jim never did.


She shook her head at her own strange musings.  Jim was in good shape, had always been strong and competitive, and prided himself on being a hunter.  Anacost's blood might flow inside him, but it hadn't changed him.


Except for the rare meat.  She made a face.  She preferred hers to not bleed when she ate it.


She unlocked her door, was immediately hit by an intensely sweet smell.  A huge bouquet of white flowers waited for her on the dining room table.


"Hello, darling.  How was your day?"


She whirled as David turned on the lamp by her chair.  They both blinked in the sudden light. 


"How the hell did you get in here?"


"Edna.  Charming woman."  He laughed.  "I told her I was a cousin of William's.  We do favor each other a bit.  And who over here can tell English accents apart?"


"I'm going to kill her.  Unless you already did it?"


"Kill such a helpful creature?  Never.  She seemed quite taken with me.  Told me confidentially that she just doesn't understand how someone like you attracts such nice young men."


Christine bristled.  "Jim is older than I am.  For that matter, you all are."


He shrugged.  "It's never too late to moisturize, dear."  He smiled.  It was a mocking smile.


"Here I thought you liked my looks."


"I do.  Very much."  He laughed.  "And aren't you the vain one?"


She sat down.  "David.  What are you doing here?"


"The time for these charming get-togethers is running out."  He leaned forward.  "I miss you."




He laughed.  "I do.  I miss being Thompson.  I know I drove you nuts, but I enjoyed those interactions."


She smiled.  Those innocent conversations seemed so far away now.  


And they'd been far from innocent.


"Do you ever stop trying to screw with my mind?"


He leaned back with a smile.  "Does Emma?"


"That's not what I asked."


He slowly stood up, held his hand out when she tensed.  "I didn't come here to spin your head.  I came here for truth.  And to make you an offer."


"An offer?"


He nodded.  "You've made me an offer enough times.  The one where I give up my evil plan and come work with you and Jim.  You'll be gone.  And I don't know that Jim and I would really get on."


"Then go to Los Angeles.  Work with Spike.  And Angel."


He laughed.  "Have you ever met Angel?  Good lord, the man's an utter bore."  He laughed again, this time more softly, as if to himself.  "Gives dour a new meaning."


"But he fights the good fight."  She thought her voice was annoyingly upbeat...and too tentative.  She tried again.  "And you'd like Spike.  He's a lot of fun."


"Oh, yes.  I imagine you think so."  His grin was leering.


"I didn't mean you'd like him that way."  She thought of the kiss he'd blown Jim the night before.  "Although, maybe you might?"


He rolled his eyes.  "I'm not going to L.A., Christine."


"Fine.  Be that way."  She stood as he took another step toward her.


"My offer's very simple.  I turn you, and you come away with me.  And I'll leave Emma and the others alone.  We'll fight them your way."  He took another step forward.  One more and he'd be out of minimum safe distance.


She held up her hand, he stopped.  "Let you turn me?"


He nodded.


"I can't do that."


"Why not?"  His voice was seductive. 


She was surprised to realize it had little effect on her anymore.  She backed up a step.  "Because it's not in my nature anymore to want that."


"Bravo."  Suddenly he moved, coming at her faster than she expected, grabbing her by the arms, his face morphing into the monster--into the vampire.  "And what is my nature, Christine?  What do I want?"


She knocked his arms away and kicked out, but he had already jumped back.  His face changed back to human.


"At the end of the day, love, I'm a vampire.  You'd be wise to remember that."  He stood up.  "I'm making you a simple offer.  Your life or Emma's.  Which will it be?" 


She smiled.  "I think it'll be yours."


"Then it's Emma's.  Don't say you couldn't have stopped this."


"David, why is Emma so important to you?  Have you ever stopped to think about that?"


He turned around.  The glee in his expression took her aback.  "That's right.  I haven't told you the truth yet."  He smiled.  It was a cutting expression.


"The truth?"


"About why Emma matters."


"I know why she matters.  She matters because you loved her and you hate her for still being a watcher."


He paced away from her.  "Did your beloved Jim tell you that I was brought into the watcher fold by my uncle?"


She nodded.


"He does tell you everything, doesn't he?"  He smiled, this time the expression held a note of wistfulness.  "Honesty.  It's rare."  He looked down.  "I'm afraid I wasn't totally honest with him.  I neglected to mention just who my uncle is."  He looked up at her, his eyes holding her.  "Can you guess?"


"No.  David."


He laughed.  "Yes, my mother's maiden name was Silver.  Dear old Uncle Kevin.  Did Emma forget to mention that to you?"


Christine looked down.


"Another lie."  He moved closer to her.  "How many before you stop trusting her?"


Christine backed away.  "I think I'll just start telling myself that everything I hear from everyone is a lie.  How's that?"


"Whatever works.  Did you know that Kevin's in love with Emma?  She's never sussed it out as far as I can tell.  But he is mad for her.  I've known it forever."  He smiled.  "Emma was a powerful ally against him.  It hurt him to have her leading the opposition with me.  It hurt him even worse to know she was in my bed, not his."  He smiled.  "I never loved her."


"I don't believe you."


"Oh, believe it.  I'd do anything to hurt Kevin."  He laughed.  "Why do you think I look out for you?  He hates you.  He hates you more than any slayer he's ever known.  If I didn't think killing Emma would hurt him even more, I'd turn you now just to see his face when he realizes his slayer nemesis has joined the opposing team."


"David.  No.  I don't believe any of this.  You do care.  About Emma, about me.  Laura."


"Don't bring her up.  She's dead and nothing will change that."


"But you still feel something when you think about her."


He took a step toward her.  "I do. I feel rage.  She should never have been brought in.  They should have left her alone, called but untrained.  She could have led a normal life."


"It doesn't work that way."  Christine thought of Sachiko Nogura.  "There's no safe place if you're the slayer."


He laughed.  "Do you think I've been asleep the whole time I've been here?  You think I don't know that Silver and quite a few others are looking for exactly that?  The safe place.  What's it called?  Oh yes, Kirsu."  He leaned in.  "I heard rumors all through my watcher years.  The place of the dead slayers."  He took another step toward her.  "Tell me, darling.  Have you died already?  Have you been there?"


She reached back, brought the phaser out.


"Won't work.  Not on me.  Not on my body armor.  What now, Christine?"  He took the last few steps, pushed up against her.


He didn't even try to stop her as she brought the weapon up.  She pushed it in close on his neck, fired and dragged it along his skin.


"Ouch!"  He jumped away.  "What in hell were trying to do?"


"Behead you."  She moved forward, studied the cut.  It was barely past the first few layers of skin.  "It would have taken a while.  Perhaps you could hold still and let me try again?"


He began to laugh. 


She put the phaser away.  "Buffy used a utility knife once.  That had to take some time."


"You're not Buffy."


She stalked toward him.  "No.  I'm not.  I'm more like Faith.  You want to see my darkness, David?"


"Yes, I would like to see it."  He pulled out his own phaser.


She was moving before he had finished the motion, her leg going up, kicking out, knocking the phaser against the wall and down the hall.  "We're even."  She felt an unnatural focus take over.  Let this be the end.  Let them fight here and leave the others out of it.  She smiled, knew it was a feral expression.  "Let's finish this the old way."


He backed up.  "I think not."  He moved toward the door.  "When we meet again, we'll be enemies."


"Newsflash, David.  We've always been enemies.  The fact that I like you doesn't change that."


He nodded, smiled at her.  "You've come a long way since we met.  I'm proud of you."


"I hope you still say that when I'm killing you."


His smile turned darker.  "I imagine the fact that you're getting stronger and stronger is driving Kevin nuts."  He laughed, turned to the door.  "Sleep well, love.  Don't think of me, stealing into your bedroom, leaning down..."  He shot her a look.  "I want you to think over my offer.  I give you till tomorrow night."


"My answer won't change."


"Perhaps not."  He stared at her.  "I do like you.  I do care.  Even if you hadn't worked so well for my plans, I'd have still liked you."


"That makes me feel very special.  Now get out, you're not welcome."


He opened the door.  "It doesn't work that way, darling.  But Jim should be able to track down the spell that uninvites a vampire.  It might not work though in this case; I was invited in by the owner, after all."


"Get out."


"I'm going."  He walked through the door, no evidence of any hurry in his stride. 


She pulled out her communicator, buzzed Jim. 


He answered immediately.  "Kirk here."




Her voice must have been shakier than she realized.  "Chris. What's wrong?"


"He was here.  David.  In my place."


"You invited him in?"


"No.  My monstrous landlady did."


"I'm on my way now. There's nothing going on here.  And the sun's almost up."


"I'll meet you.  Can I stay at your place?"


"You don't even have to ask."  There was a long silence.  "Do you?"


She laughed.  "I'll wear a big cross so you'll know I'm not a vampire."




She knew that neither of them was joking.  She went into her bedroom, grabbed her gaudiest cross and put it on.  It hung low, made a small rubbing sound as it moved against the other necklace--the invisible necklace.  She touched the necklace, felt for Laura's ring. 


"Which David do I believe in?"


If Laura had any answers, she wasn't telling them to Christine.


She closed her eyes.  The twists in the various tales she'd been told were making her dizzy.  She felt like sitting out the next few rounds--only if she did, Emma would die.  That was the one thing she knew David meant.  He would kill her friend.


She pulled off her uniform, changed into something comfortable and put the uniform into the refresher.  She put a clean one in a bag for the morning and threw in the other things she'd need.  Going back into the main room, she grabbed her crossbow and more stakes, then picked up the flowers and carried them downstairs.  She pounded on Rhatigan's door.


"Oh, it's you," the landlady said.  She did not look happy at being woken so early in the morning.  "I suppose you're just getting in?  The hours you keep, I'm surprised they don't drum you out of the fleet." 


Christine stifled a yawn.  Woman had a small point.  Fortunately, it was the weekend.  She could sleep in...just not in her own bed.  She thrust the bouquet at Rhatigan.  "Here.  These are from William's cousin.  For being so nice to him."  She didn't try to moderate the dislike in her voice.


The woman actually simpered.  "Flowers for me?  He seemed like such a nice boy."


Christine decided not to tell her it was a funeral bouquet.  Let her house smell like a mortuary if it made her happy--it would certainly give Christine a chuckle.  "In the future, Mrs. Rhatigan, I'd appreciate it if you didn't enter my apartment without notice."


"It's my building."


"There are still rules."


The woman smiled, smugly.  "Your lease is up soon."


"I'm shipping out soon too.  I won't be around much longer to bother you."


"Oh, if you can't sign for another year, then you won't be around at all.  I don't rent month-to-month."  She smiled sweetly.  "I'll need sixty days notice or I'm keeping the damage deposit."  She shut the door in Christine's face.  Hard.


Resisting the urge to kick the door in just on general principles, Christine hefted her bags and hurried out into the night.  It felt infinitely safer than her apartment did.




Kirk forced himself to slow down.  Chris was fine.  She hadn't been hurt.  At least, she hadn't sounded like she'd been hurt. 


He started walking faster again, then slowed as he saw her round the corner.  He waited for her, pushing the violin case back and taking her bag from her.


She smiled as he did it.  He shook his head--they both knew she was stronger.


"Humor me," he said.  "Let me play the gentleman."


Her eyes softened; he could see her visibly relax. 


"You are the gentleman.  It's a good deal of your charm."


"Then there's my good looks and sparkling wit."


"Not to mention your ability to accessorize."  She touched the violin case.  "How is our baby?"


"Charged and ready to go.  All we need is our vampire."


She looked down.


"You okay?"  He reached out and touched her cross, lifting it and letting it sit on the exposed skin of her throat.  "No sizzle."


She moved closer.  "No.  No sizzle."


"You don't mind if I just check," he said as he pushed her shirt back a bit, inspecting her neck.  "All clear."


She nodded, but there was no humor in her eyes.  She looked exhausted.


"Let's go home."


"Okay."  She walked next to him, seemingly lost in thought.  Finally, she looked over at him.  "No action at Emma's tonight?"


"Nope.  Maybe the slayers were resting up."


"It won't be up to them, Jim."




"No.  It will be up to us."  She seemed determined, even a bit angry. 


"What happened tonight?"


"I woke up?"  When he frowned, she sighed.  "David is Silver's nephew."


"My god.  The uncle that put him into this life.  That's why he's after Emma.  Silver's in love with her."


She turned to look at him.  "Why does everyone seem to know that but me?  And Emma."


He smiled.  "Silver came to see me today."  He saw her face and hurried to say, "I was going to tell you all about it during our long and boring stakeout.  But you never showed, remember?"


She nodded, appeared mollified.  "What did he want?"


"For me to keep you out of this.  He's afraid that you'll get Emma killed."


"He may be right.  David offered me a choice.  My life for Emma's."  She took a deep breath.  "I'm supposed to be thinking over whether I want to be turned."  She looked over at him quickly.  "I don't have to think about it.  But it means he'll go after her--soon.  We have to be outside her house well before dark tonight.  I don't think he's going to wait."


He smiled softly.  "She doesn't have a landlady to let him in.  Doesn't the council own the house?"


Chris nodded.  "It won't matter.  He'll find a way.  He always does." 


"So do you.  You always find a way to win." 


She turned to him, a surprised look on her face.  "That should be my line to you.  You're the one who always wins.  Not me."


He shook his head.  "I think you underestimate yourself."  He thought of Nogura's suggestion.  "Have you ever wanted to be CMO?"


"CMO of what?  A garbage scow?"  She laughed, then saw his expression.  "Of the Enterprise?  You're kidding, right?"


He shook his head. 


She frowned.  "Why would I be CMO?  I'm not ready for that."


"Because Nogura would like you to lead the search for Kirsu.  Aboard the Enterprise."


She stopped walking.  "Is this a joke?"


He shook his head.  "He thinks you can find it.  He seems less convinced that you can deliver it."


"What changed his mind?"


Kirk smiled.  "Maybe not a what but a who.  I think Lori has been working on him.  Trying to make him back off.  She wants it too."


"True."  She sighed.  "Sometimes, I wish I'd never heard of Kirsu."


"I know."  He nodded to the doorman as the man hit the switch to open the door for them long before they reached it.  "Thanks, John."


Chris smiled at him.  Kirk noticed that she got a warm smile and a nod back. 


John smiled at him too.  "Have a nice morning, Admiral."


Kirk realized his doorman had begun to take the screwy hours he kept for granted.  It had been a long time since John had looked at all surprised at his comings and goings.  "You too."


The elevator was waiting for them and they rode it up in silence.  His apartment was warm and welcoming.


"No more smell.  Except incense.  Smells nice."  She smiled at him.


"I've been trying to practice at Weasel's instead of here.  Let him live with the reek."


She laughed, set her weapons by the door and took her bag from him, carrying it to the couch.


He moved it to the bedroom.  "You take the bed."


She stood at the doorway.  "We've shared the bed in the past."


He smiled.  "Then why'd you take the couch?"


"So you'd move my bag into the bedroom.  Gallant to the end.  If we share, you could hold me.  It'd be nice to be held."


"I'll hold you in the living room.  Safer, I think."


She laughed.  "Isn't the living room where we did that spell?" She took a deep breath, let it out slowly. And loudly.


He gulped.  "Maybe the bathroom?  No special memories there."


"Give us time."


Her expression was one notch down from seductive, and he knew she could ratchet it up instantly if she wanted to. 




"Jim."  She didn't move out of the doorway, not even when he walked up to her. 


He stopped, sighed as he looked at her.  "No games, Chris."


She moved instantly. 


He walked past her and sat down on the couch.


She moved to the window and stared out.  "This isn't a game to me.  Not what we have.  It's real and honest and I'm not playing with that."  She turned to look at him.  "I want you.  I know you want me and that you think you shouldn't have me.  I don't fully agree with your reasoning, but I respect your decision.  Mostly."  She smiled when he laughed softly.


"Come here."  He held out his hand.


She walked to the couch, sank down next to him.  "I can't hide what I want from you.  I won't hide it.  Not when we're alone."  She cuddled in next to him, her arms around him.


"Okay.  You don't have to."  He leaned his head back.  "I'm tired."


"Me too," she said, moving even closer and putting her head on his chest.


"So you think David will make his move tonight?"  He looked out at the window, the sky was light, dawn had come and gone and they'd missed it. 


But he'd felt it.  Like he had every morning since he'd been bitten.  A strange new awareness.  He'd never told Chris that.   He'd never told anyone that.  Hell, until this moment, he'd refused to even admit it to himself.


"Chris?"  He looked down at her. 


She was fast asleep.


He reached over her, pulled the throw down from the back of the couch and covered her up. 


She made a low sound, moved in sleep.


He leaned down, kissed her forehead, laid his hand over hers where it rested on his chest.


She stirred, looked up at him sleepily.  She smiled, such a sweet smile.  He reached over and stroked her cheek. 


"Go back to sleep."


She moaned, a short, soft sound.  An unbearably sexy sound.  Their eyes met.  Hers were so sleepy. 


He wondered if his were as lost as he felt.  If they showed any of the longing that filled him.


For a moment her expression became sad.  She smiled gently.  "A gentleman to the bitter end," she whispered, shaking her head slightly.   Then she lay her head back down and closed her eyes.


She was asleep again quickly.


He watched her for a long time before sleep came for him.




Christine waited by the door impatiently.  She and Jim had slept much later than she'd expected.  Then he'd insisted they eat.  "Come on."


Jim hurried over to her, the weapon slung over his shoulder, safe in its case.  "Calm down."


She took a deep breath.  "I'm calm.  Now, come on." 


She glanced over at the couch; the throw that had covered her was pushed to the side.  Somehow, while they'd slept, Jim had managed to turn them so that he had been lying down and she'd been nearly on top of him.  It had been an interesting way to wake up.


He shot her a look, seemed to be thinking the same thing as he looked over at the couch.  "Not the best place for two to sleep." 


She smiled.  "The bed would have been less ummm intimate."


He laughed.  "I'm so glad you're not the kind to say 'I told you so.'"


"Me too.  Now can we go?"


"It won't be dark for a while." 


"I know."  She pulled her crossbow over her shoulder, shoved the phaser into her pants' pocket.  "No good for beheading, by the way."




"Takes too long."


He nodded thoughtfully.  "Good to know."


They stopped for coffee on the way--his idea, and she chafed a bit at the delay as he bought their drinks.


"Chris.  He's a vampire.  Even if he's in the sewers right under her house.  He can't come out until it's dark."


"I know."  She sipped at the foamy coffee. 


He'd splurged and bought the good stuff.  He saw her expression and smiled.  "Life is too short to drink boring coffee."  He sipped at his.  "Besides, I could use the caffeine."  He grinned at her.  "Not so sure you need to be any more wound up than you already are."


"I'm all right."  She watched a young woman as she walked toward them.  After they passed each other, she said, "She's one of them."


He turned and looked at the woman, then turned back to her with a frown.  "One of whom?"


"The slayers."


He shook his head.  "You're seeing shadows everywhere, Chris.  She's not."


"You saw them all last night?"


He laughed.  "Actually I did.  There wasn't a lot else to do since we weren't fighting.  They were all so different.  I mean other than the same basic age.  And female."


"And you know she's not a slayer."


He shrugged, shot her a long-suffering glance.  "Maybe she is.  But she wasn't there last night.  And what difference does it make?"  His attention was caught by something ahead. 


Christine looked away from him.  She saw Carol Marcus standing with her son, staring at the two of them as if trying to make up her mind whether it was safe to go by.  She finally turned and walked across the street.  David was telling her something and didn't seem to notice the delay.


Jim sighed.  "I think it's harder now when I see them every now and then, than it was when I knew they were safely offworld."


She nodded, touched his arm.  "I'm sorry."  She smiled softly.  "Maybe if I hadn't been here, she would have come this way?  Maybe she was just worried for her hand?"


He shook his head, but smiled at her.  "I doubt it, Chris.  It's a nice thought in a way, but I can't let myself think that way.  I can't get my hopes up."


"You prefer to live in this misery where he's concerned?"


"You have a better idea?"  His smile faded as he looked at her. 


She held up a hand.  "I'm sorry.  I didn't mean what I said as condemnation.  It's just not the way I've lived my life, you know that.  I'm more impulsive than you."


He nodded.  "I know."  He gestured to the place they'd hidden out before, down from Emma's townhouse.  He looked up.  "The sun will be down in about forty five minutes."


She felt out with her slayer sense, could feel the sun's passage as if it was marked in her body.  He was right.  "How do you know that?"


He looked guilty.  "I feel it."


"Do you feel the dawn too?"


He nodded.  Then he looked down.  "Have ever since we got back."


"So it's something you could always do?"  She could hear the doubt in her voice and smiled gently to show him she was just curious.


"Only since Anacost."  He moved closer to her.  "Some things are different."


"Like the way you like your meat?"


"That's a big one.  But not just that."  He leaned in, sniffed her neck.  "You smell different.  People do."


"Like food?"  She laughed.


"No."  He grinned at her.  "You just smell good."


She smiled.  "Then different how?"


He thought about it for a moment.  "More intense.  Like I can smell the life in them?  It's not obvious...I didn't even realize things were different until one day in the gym.  I realized that everything was more intense."


"You're stronger too."  She nodded.  "Somehow, his blood is making you a little stronger than you were."


"It'll dilute, right?  Like a transfusion would eventually."


She shrugged.  "There's not a lot of data on this.  I'm not sure vampire blood does dissipate over time.  Maybe it'll always stay separate and strong."


"But it won't take over?"


She shook her head.  "It would have by now.  It would have that night, after he bit you.  If it was going to."  She ruffled his hair gently, at the neck, where he seemed to like it.  "You're just going to have to live with being a little bit vampire.  I don't think that's a bad thing."


"Yes, I know how fond you get of them."  He smiled. "It's slayer not lay--"


She put a hand over his mouth, felt him laugh under her touch.  "For the record, I've only been with one of them.  And that's an old joke.  Ever since Buffy."


"Does everything start and end with her?"  He shook his head.  "Seems like you should date things BB and AB."


She laughed.  "Maybe we should."  She thought about those other worlds Spike had seen, the ones where Buffy's life had gone so differently.  Certainly his world revolved around the woman. 


"Was it different with a vampire?"  he asked.


"Sex, you mean?"


He nodded.


"The basic mechanics are the same.  Their bodies aren't warm.  That takes some getting used to."  She touched his hand.  "You don't have that characteristic.  You're very warm."


He nodded.  "Alma used to say I had lots of fire in me.  Speaking of which."  He opened the case and took the weapon out.  He flipped it on.  "Might as well get it ready."


"Do you miss her?"


He nodded.  "I do.  Not as much as I did at first.  So much has happened since she left."


She nodded. 


"And there's you now."  His look was open, not trying to hide what he felt for her.


She smiled.  "She was good for you."


He nodded.  "Yes.  I think she was."  He smiled.  "Like Spike was for you.  Do you miss him?"


She laughed.  "I do.  He brought a lightness to my life I'd never had."  She smiled fondly.  "You'd like him.  He's fun."


"I'd probably be too busy wondering if you were still sleeping with him."  He made a funny face.  "Not that I have any right to be territorial."


She shrugged.  "I like it that you are."


He grinned at her.  "Well, that's good.  Because I doubt I'll change any time soon."


She watched him as he loaded a rocket into the gun, then she looked down the street, checking the tops of buildings, and other hidey holes for watchers and the other slayers.  The block appeared empty of life.  Unnaturally empty.  It was as if the watchers had chosen this street for its very isolation.  Less questions, she supposed, but lonely for Emma.  And scary at night when a vampire was gunning for you and a little human company would have been welcome, even if was a distant company.  Even if the humans around didn't have the least idea what was happening.


The hum of the machine changed to the low whine that signaled it was ready.  She watched the street again, waiting for something--anything--to happen.  "David said he didn't love Emma."  She looked at Jim.  "Do you believe that?"


"You know him better than I do."


"I don't know him at all.  Maybe I don't know her either."  She shook her head.  "So many lies, Jim.  When does it stop?"  She felt him grasp her hand.


"Lies do seem to be the norm around here, don't they?"


She nodded.  He squeezed her hand, then took out the box holding the orb and checked it.  Seemingly satisfied, he put the orb in his pocket, and stuffed the box into his other pocket. 


At her look, he said, "I think it'll be tonight too.  I can feel it in the air."  He looked up, closed his eyes for a moment and said, "Sun will be down soon."


She nodded.  They waited in an easy silence, watching the sky as it changed from blue to orange to dark indigo.  As the sun set, she could feel her senses coming alive.  She looked over at Jim.  He looked more alert too.


An hour passed as they stood in silence.  Every nerve inside of Christine seemed to be screaming danger.  She wanted to fight, was ready to fight.


She heard footsteps sounding down the walk, from the opposite direction.


"He's not going to just walk up to her door," Jim said, his words barely more than breathed air.


But that was exactly what David did.  He bounded up the steps and rang Emma's door chime.


Emma must have been waiting by the door for it opened instantly.  She stood aside, let David in.


"No!" Christine was already moving but Emma didn't seem to hear her.  The door shut.


Jim was right behind her.  "Why would she do that?  Why would she let him in?"


"What if he made her the same offer he did me?"


"Her life for yours?"


Christine nodded, felt her stomach sink into a pit somewhere near her knees.  "Emma, no."


They rushed up the stairs and she tried the door, but it was locked. 


"To hell with this," she said, as she stepped over to the scanner.  "Medical Emergency override.  Protocol EMT five-zero-alpha.  Doctor Christine Chapel." 


The door clicked and she pushed through it, running upstairs.  There was no one in sight.


"Chris, down here," Jim called from the lower level. 


She ran down the stairs, her feet barely touching the ground.  The training room was empty, but the back door stood open. 


She ran out into the night, knew he was right behind her.  David and Emma were nowhere to be seen.  She stopped running.  Stood trying to get some kind of fix on her watcher.


"Where would he take her?"


She looked up at him.  "I don't know."


"The cemetery?" 


She nodded.  "Maybe."  But they'd been there before.  David wasn't that predictable.  Where was he headed?


"Chris.  She doesn't have much time."


"I know."  She could feel panic pushing at her.  Where?  Where would they have gone?  She was breathing too hard, forced herself to slow down.  "I have an idea."  A really bad idea.  Before she could think better of it, she grabbed his hand.  "We're going to need your magic, Jim." 


With her other hand she reached up for Laura's ring, jammed her little finger into it.  Pictured Emma's face...and David's. 


A portal started to form.


"Chris, what are you doing?"  But he followed her into the portal.


"We're going to borrow this."  She turned to him.  "Just give me a boost, I can do the rest."  She hoped.


He nodded, closed his eyes.  As the portal closed around them, she felt a rush of raw power fill her, pouring through Jim's hand into hers.  She focused on Emma.  "Find her," she ordered the portal.


The portal shook.  They could probably feel it all the way back in Kirsu.  There'd be hell to pay with LaVelle if this worked.


The portal opened in a small room.  Christine jumped out, pulling Jim with her.


"Where are we?" he whispered as the portal closed.


"I don't know."  She moved silently into the next room, a big room, warehouselike. 


She saw Silver and his fellow watchers.  And slayers, but only a few.  Silver was sitting at a small table, slayers and watchers huddled around him, looking at something.


"David has Emma," she managed to get out.  Not sure why she thought he could help.


Silver whirled.  His face went white, then he glared at them.  "I told you what would happen if you got in our way."


"Did you hear what she just said?" Jim said.  "Where are the other slayers?"


Silver stared hard at him, then said, "We had a report of David being seen in Berkeley.  A very good source."


"It's not him," Christine said.  "He's in town.  And he has Emma."


One of the other watchers said, "How the hell did you get in here?  We have slayers on the entrance.  Are they sleeping?"  He motioned for two of the slayers to follow him to the entrance, but stopped as Lynda and another slayer slowly walked backwards into the warehouse.  Both had stakes raised.


David, holding Emma close with a phaser to her throat, emerged from the shadows and followed them in.


"You promised, David," Emma said softly.  "You said it would be quick.  In the cemetery."


"How can he watch if it's in the cemetery?  How can he suffer if it's quick?"  David's grip on Emma tightened.  "Sorry, lover.  I lied." 


Christine backed up slowly.  Maybe he hadn't seen them yet.


"Stay where I can see you, Christine." 


She froze.


David shot her a puzzled look.  "I could have sworn I saw you outside Emma's house."


"Guess you were wrong." 


"I can't take the shot as long as he's holding her as a shield," Jim said softly. 


David did not appear to be worried about the gun.  She looked over at Jim.  He had the gun pressed against his leg.  It shimmered slightly, and her eyes seemed unable to focus when she tried to look at it. 


Good thing he had the protection spell down pat.


Silver stood up.  "David.  It's me you want to hurt.  We both know this."  He held out his hand.  "Let her go."


"Nice try, old man."  David moved back, pulling Emma with him.  "The slayers go.  All except Christine.  Send them out now."


Silver didn't hesitate.  "Lynda, take them out."


She looked at him uncertainly.




She led the others out.  David waited until they were clear, then he pulled Emma to the door switch.  He hit it, waited until the door closed firmly, then shot it with his phaser, fusing the lock.  He never let go of Emma.  "See what he'll do for you, lover?  I told you how important you were to him."


Christine moved closer, could feel Jim behind her.


"If you could get that phaser away from him," he said softly.


She nodded.  "We just need a little distraction."


"I think I have that covered.  Just get us a little closer."


"What are you and your paramour muttering about, Christine?"  David pulled Emma toward him; he had her arm at an odd angle.  If he pulled her any closer, he'd break her arm.  "That's close enough."


Christine stopped.  "Emma, why?"


Emma looked over at her.  "He made me an offer I found too good to refuse.  I thought he was a man of his word."  She wrenched her head back so that she could look up at him and spit in his face.  "My life for hers.  That was the deal."


He rubbed the spittle off against her hair.  "I intend to keep up my end of the bargain.  But I didn't say anything about our fellow watchers."


Christine took another step forward.


David yanked up on Emma's arm.  The cracking sound seemed to fill the room.  Emma didn't cry out, but tears came and she was breathing hard. 


"Behave yourself, Christine.  Or I'll hurt her some more."  David looked down at Emma.


Sweat was pouring down her forehead.  "Hurts, does it?"  He glanced at Kevin.  "So brave.  Isn't she brave, Kevin?"


"David, for god's sake, let her go."  Silver took a step toward him.  "How many years are you going to hold this against me?"


"That you took a little boy who only wanted to study science, maybe join Starfleet, and turned him into a monster?  That I had no choice in the matter?  Why, I think I'll hold it against you forever.   And for me, that's going to be a nice long time."


"You could have quit," Emma said.


"And have my fellow special ops brothers track me down?"  He looked over at Christine.  "How easy was it to quit?"


"No one tried to hurt me when I did, David.  You could have quit."


"You don't know that.  I had access to everything.  Horrors you have not heard about yet.  Things that make the Cruciamentum seem kind."  He looked at Silver.  "Would you have let me live, Uncle?"


"You could have left," Silver said.


Christine could hear the lie in his voice. 


Jim inched closer to her, the movement so fluid that David didn't notice.  "We're running out of time.  Silver's too stubborn to save this situation.  I think it's time for a distraction."


"Agreed."  She didn't look at him when she whispered, "On three?"


"One, two, three," Jim said, throwing the orb to the side of David.  "Laura," he whispered.


Smoke gushed from the broken crystal, rising up, making a wispy dark curtain.  The watchers moved back.


David pulled Emma away from it; he looked at Jim as if he'd gone mad.  "What the hell do you think you're doing?"


"David?"  A voice that Christine had thought she'd never hear again rang through the room.  "David?" 


Both he and Emma turned to the smoke, twin looks of amazement on their faces. 


Laura walked out of the smoke.  She smiled at David.


"Chris, go.  She'll only hold form for a few minutes."


Christine was already moving, slowly covering ground, trying not to spook David.


"David?"  Laura walked toward him. 


He dragged Emma with him, his eyes locked on his lost slayer.  "Laura?"


Emma looked over at Christine, a strange suspicion on her face, then she looked back at the girl.  "Laura?"


Suddenly Laura fell, the smiling young girl giving way to the girl who'd died on Vega Hydra.  Bloody and hurt, she held her hand up to David.  "Help me."


He backed away.  "No." Then he seemed to realize Christine was coming up fast.  He turned, lifting the phaser again.


"No!" she said, knew it was too far, that she wouldn't get to him.  Then she felt a familiar energy pushing her, getting her close enough fast enough.




Her hand was out, slapping the phaser away from David, her other hand pushing Emma away from him.  She kicked David back, saw Jim out of the corner of her eye pulling Emma away.


David frowned.  "What is that?"  He suddenly moved so Christine was between them.  "A weapon?"


She kicked him away from her.  Saw that Jim had raised the gun.  It no longer shimmered.


"I told you.  We're not just whittling stakes anymore."


He laughed as he moved around her.  "He can't get a shot as long as you're in front of me."   He traded blows with her, never hitting her hard enough to lose her as a shield.  "Do you think he can fire before I get to him?  Before I rip his head off?"


She smiled. "Yes.  I do."  She saw that he was working them closer to Jim.  "But you're not going to get the chance."


"We'll see." 


He moved back and she followed him, then he suddenly lunged at her, kicking her hard, back toward Jim.  He followed, keeping her between them, and leapt up, kicking her again as she tried to give Jim a shot.


She went careening into him, knocking the weapon out of his hands.  It clattered to the ground. 


Next to Emma.


As Christine went after David again, she heard Emma say, "Which one do I shoot?"


Jim yelled at her, "David.  Shoot David."


Emma seemed to sob.  "I know.  But which one?"


Christine moved between David and her watcher.  He rushed her and she caught him up, threw him away from her, into some of the other watchers.  He was up quickly and back at her.


"You knew it would come to this," she said.  "You and me.  The old-fashioned way."


He shook his head.  "I've still got body armor.  You don't."  He laughed, then rushed her for real. 


She lost track of what Emma or Jim or anyone but David was doing.  Their movements were like poetry, strike, strike, kick.  Back and forth, neither of them giving ground. 


She remembered that Rosa had danced like this with Anacost.  Finally, understood why she'd been smiling.


It was what she had been born to do. 


They closed, fought closer in.  Her hands were sore from hitting his armor; her legs were staring to tire.  But she laughed.  She could feel a strange darkness fill her.  They would finish this.  Finally.


And it would not be her that would go down.  She grabbed him, pulled him to the side.  Gave Emma a shot.  Knew her watcher wouldn't miss.  Even with a broken arm.  She was the best shot Christine had ever seen.  "Emma, now!"


Emma fired.


And the rocket flew dead on target--if she'd been aiming for Christine. 


"No!" Jim yelled.


Christine made a helpless noise.  Time slowed strangely and she knew it was over.  It would be her lying on the ground. 


It would be her who died.


Then David pushed her away.


She fell back, landed hard on her butt, felt the shock as her tailbone protested. 


David was smiling, turning toward the rocket as it tore through his chest.  He flew back, as if the rocket was still traveling and carrying him with it.  He finally fell, and she could see fire burning through the gaping hole in his body armor.


She rushed to him.  Could hear Jim behind her.


David looked up at Jim.  "You made this?"


Jim nodded.


Christine was trying to put the fire out.  She tried to smother it with her jacket but it wouldn't go out.


"It's chemical, love.  I can feel that.  Not normal fire."  It began to spread out from this chest, his skin bubbling up around the hole, then turning into something that looked like coals, fire glowing from behind the cracks in his skin.


She leaned forward and he caught her around the neck.  His hands tightened painfully on either side of her head.  She froze.


He looked up at Jim.  "You need to make it burn faster.  If it were anyone but her...I'd snap her neck."  He let go of her.


She started to breathe again.  "David."


"It hurts."  He reached out, touched her jacket where she'd dropped it.  Pulling out her stake, he handed it to her.  "End it, Christine.  The old-fashioned way."  He groaned in pain as the fire spread again. 


She tried to blink back tears, but they fell onto his face.


"You cry for me."  He smiled.  A shy, uncertain smile.  He was Thompson again.  Just for a moment.  "That's nice."


"I'll fight for them.  I promise."


"I know you will."  The fire spread again.  So slowly.  Too slowly. 


Why didn't it burn faster? 


She looked at the stake.  It was what she was made for.  To slay him. 


He smiled, grabbed her hand.  "Here.  I'll do it for you."


She put her other hand over his.  "No.  I can do it."


He nodded, relaxed his grip on her hand, but didn't let go of the stake.


"Goodbye, David."


He smiled up at her.  This time his own cocky grin.   She slammed the stake into his chest, felt his hand clench on hers, then it turned to dust.  She looked up at Jim.


He was watching her with concern.  He gently set his hand on her shoulder.  "I'll help you.  You know that.  Whatever I can do for the slayers, I'll do."


She pushed herself to her feet and moved close to him, touching his cheek, then leaning in and kissing him softly on the mouth before she pulled away.  "I know you will."  She looked down at where Silver was sitting with Emma.  "We need to get her to the hospital."


He pulled out his communicator.  She could hear him calling for emergency transport as she walked to her watcher.  She pushed past Silver, knelt down next to Emma. 


"I didn't think you'd be able to do it," Silver said softly.  "I may have misjudged you."


She gave him a hard look.  "Don't talk to me right now.  I had to kill him because you couldn't let a little boy live the life he wanted.  And I thought it was only girls you destroyed."


He looked down.  "I don't expect you to understand my position."


Emma reached out, touched his arm.  "Don't, Kevin.  Just let her hurt.  She loved him."  Emma's eyes met hers.  "We both did."  She looked down.  "Even if he only loved one of us."  Her smile was tremulous, a little bit startling coming from such a normally stalwart woman.  As Christine watched, the starch came back into her expression.  She smiled firmly up at her.  "My arm's in pain, dear.  Perhaps a hospital?"


"Jim's got that covered."  Christine helped her up.  And led her away from Silver and the other watchers. 


She left Emma with Jim, then gathered up her jacket, touching the pile of dust.  "I won't forget," she promised David.  Then she sighed and straightened up.  "Get us out of here, Jim."


She didn't look away from the dust until the transporter took them.




Kirk watched Christine as she worked on Emma's arm.  He'd used his flag privileges to get his "cousin" Emma Drake seen at Starfleet Medical.  Christine had used a few dark looks to get the doctors on duty in the emergency clinic to back off.  Nobody seemed to want to argue with her.


He could suddenly see her as CMO. 


She was running some scans over Emma's head.


"Still trying to get to the bottom of those migraines?" Emma asked.  She had a strange look on her face.  Off somehow, but Kirk wasn't sure how.


"You shouldn't have to be in pain all the time," Christine said, glancing over at him.


He smiled at her, and she smiled back.  He and Emma were the only ones getting smiles out of her tonight. 


He felt a hand on his arm, turned and saw Uhura.  She was in civilian clothes. 


"Nyota, what are you going here?"


She smiled grimly.  "I have my comm system set up to notify me if certain people are admitted into the local hospitals."  She shook her head.  "I can't do much, but I can do that."


He smiled.  "Good thinking."


She nodded distractedly.  "What happened?"  


"Big battle."  He looked down.  He felt surprisingly bad about how things had turned out.  He wished they could have wooed David over to their side.  He thought he could have liked the man.


"Is Christine okay?"  Uhura was watching her with concern.


"She's all right.  Emma has a broken arm."


"And David?"


Kirk shook his head.


Uhura looked down.  "I'll pray for him."


He smiled.  "That'd be a good thing."  He thought David might need the prayers.


Christine finished her scans of Emma's brain, moved down to check her arm.  She moved aside to let the nurse in with the regenerator.  "One more pass, I think," she said, and the nurse nodded.


She walked over to Kirk and Uhura, let Uhura pull her into a hug. 


"I'm sorry, Christine."


She nodded, then she looked over at him.  "There was no other way."


"There wasn't."  He'd been working it over and over.  It had ended the only way it could if no one would bend.  He was just glad she'd come out unharmed.


She turned back to check Emma's arm, and he said softly to Uhura, "You should have seen her fight, Nyota.  It was beautiful."


Uhura smiled.  "I take it Chekov's little toy worked?"


He smiled.  Patted the violin case he still had slung over his shoulder.  "I'll have to tell him that."


"He'll be thrilled."


"He needs to work on the chemical mix.  It burns too slowly."  But was it smart to make it burn any faster?  What if it had hit Chris?  If it had been too fast, he'd have never been able to extinguish it.  Not that he could have extinguished it on his own.  Why hadn't he thought to ask them for an extinguisher?  She would have burned to death and it would have been his fault.


"Wherever you've gone," Uhura said softly.  "Leave it."  She touched his hand.  "She's fine."


He shot her a puzzled look, unsure how she knew what he was thinking.  "How...?"


She smiled.  "You get a certain look where she's concerned."  She looked at Chris.  "She looks all in."


"She needs sleep."  He could hold her tonight, hold her in his bed.  Then he realized there was no need.  David was dead and she could sleep in her own bed.  He felt a bit bereft at the thought.


Uhura walked over to Emma, who was sliding off the exam table, her arm in a sling. 


"How long do I have to wear this, Christine?" Emma asked.


"A few days."  Christine smiled.  "Don't you like the color?"


"It's fine.  Just unwieldy."


Christine nodded.  "Let's get you home."


"I can do that," Uhura said, moving gently between Chris and Emma.  "You need to get some sleep."


Emma nodded.  "I'll see you tomorrow, my dear.  You do look very tired."  She touched Chris's arm.  "It's been a hard night for all of us."


Chris nodded, let Uhura lead Emma away. 


"You can use the transporter to get her home," Kirk said.  "Just tell the tech I've authorized it."


Uhura nodded and led Emma out.


He watched Chris as she cleaned up. 


"I should leave this for the nurse.  Old habits die hard." She looked over at him.  There was something lost in her expression and he moved toward her. 


She shied away.  "I'm okay."


"I know you are."  When she turned around, an angry look on her face as if he was humoring her, he said softly.  "Chris, I'm not worried about you.  I'm just feeling bad for David.  And for us.  For having to be the ones who did it.  You did what you had to do.  Like I knew you would."


She moved closer.  "You have such faith in me."


He nodded.  "I do."  He smiled, pulled her to him and she didn't resist.


Her arms wrapped around him.  "I didn't want him to die."


"I know." 


They stood in silence, warm in the cocoon of their embrace. 


"You can go home tonight," he said, his voice sounding more forlorn than he meant it to.


"I don't want to."  She pulled away.  "But I probably should.  Safer."


He touched her hair.  "We'll be okay.  Come home with me.  I don't want to be alone tonight either."


She nodded, grabbed up her stuff and led him out of Starfleet Medical.  As she turned for the exit, he touched her hand. 


She took it.  Squeezed hard. 


"I'm sorry, Chris."


"Me too, Jim.  Me too."


They didn't talk the rest of the way home.




Christine hurried down the street to Emma's townhouse.  She didn't understand why Emma wasn't answering her comms.  She had visions of her watcher hurt, perhaps when Emma had reached for something and had wrenched her healing arm.  She ran up the steps, hit the chime.  "Come on, come on."


She looked down at the padd she carried.  McCoy had once told her that the hardest part of being a doctor was delivering bad news.  Medicine had come a long way, but there were still times when there was nothing anyone could do.  How did you tell someone they had virtually no time left?  She should have seen the symptoms.  The sensitivity to light, the headaches.  Even during the fight, it must have been double vision that made Emma misaim the weapon as she had. 


How cruel would it be for her watcher to have fought so hard for her life and then find out that it was for nothing?  If someone had caught it sooner, maybe then they could have done something--


Christine pushed the thought away.  Chorealpaneic Encephalitis was not something you caught sooner.  In Christine's infectious disease course, the professor had called it a sleeping killer, lying hidden for years after exposure, slowly weaving itself into the body's vital systems.  By the time the first symptom was seen, it was long past too late.  Emma had probably been carrying it for years unaware that her body harbored a time bomb.  A time bomb that no one would think to look for.  It wasn't the kind of disease that flared into epidemics.  It wasn't airborne, didn't spread through casual contact.  You had to be exposed to infected brain or spinal tissue.  Christine smiled grimly.  The demons they routinely fought often tore their victims apart, exposing every kind of tissue.  Emma had probably been infected by a corpse she'd examined.  She'd probably never realized that the victim had been doomed long before the big bad monster got to him.


Christine rang the chime again, then keyed in her medical emergency override, pushing the door open when the lock clicked.  She thought she heard movement upstairs, and yelled out, "Emma?"


The movement stopped.


"Damn it."  Something was in this house.  Something that didn't want her to know it was there.  Well, that something was in for a rude awakening. 


She crept down the hallway.  The noise had come from Emma's bedroom. 


She kicked the door in, poised to attack.  There was no one in the bedroom but Emma, standing by the bed, holding a jacket.


Christine dropped her hands, letting her fists unclench, feeling foolish.  "Emma, for God's sake, I called.  Didn't you hear me?"


She suddenly realized there was a suitcase on the bed, half filled with clothes.  Another small bag sat on the floor, full of books and weapons.


Christine turned to her watcher.  "You're going somewhere?"


Emma seemed unable to look at her.


Christine realized she wasn't wearing the sling; it was lying on the dresser.  Emma followed her gaze, then looked away.


Christine saw a smaller case, full of hypos sitting on the bed.  Walking over to it, she checked out the contents.  Painkillers, sedatives, anti-anxiety meds.  Enough to put down a small elephant--permanently.  She dropped her padd on the bed, turned and stared at Emma.  "You already know, don't you?"


Emma was clutching the jacket to her, as if it were a lifeline.  She backed up, sat down quickly in the chair against the wall. 


"How long have you known?" Christine asked.


"Quite a while."


"My god.  It's why you took David up on his offer.  You knew you'd be dead soon anyway."


"I told you.  It was a good offer."  Emma smiled sadly.


Christine held up the meds.  "And these?"


Emma met her eyes, her expression bleakly determined.  "I like to think of those as dignity."


Christine blinked back angry tears.  "Dignity?  You're running away.  All those damn lectures to me, and you're running away?"


"Really, dear.  You're being overdramatic."  Emma's voice was lacking its normal starch.  She cleared her throat, seemed to draw herself up as if in an attempt to look like the watcher that Christine had first met.  "This is a private matter."


Christine fought the urge to hurl the medicines against the wall.  Emma would just get more; it was easy to do if one had the resources and the will. 


She walked over to Emma, looked down at her.  "It's not a private matter anymore.  I'm involved."


"Oh, for god's sake, Christine.  I'm your watcher.  One who you didn't even want.  I don't expect anything from you."  She stood up, pushed past her and folded the jacket carefully, sticking it in the suitcase.


"It doesn't matter what you expect, because you're stuck with me." 


Emma walked to the closet, reaching for a handful of clothes and carrying them back to the suitcase.  She didn't look at Christine, kept her head down.  As she folded a skirt on the top of the pile, she said, "Go away, Christine.  I don't need you here.  And you've proven you don't need a watcher.  You had to rescue me, after all."


When Christine didn't say anything, Emma sighed.  "I should think that you'd be happy to be rid of me.  I'm certainly happy to be done with this assignment."


Her voice broke on the last word.


Christine moved closer, reached out and turned Emma's face to her.  Her watcher's eyes were filled with tears.  Emma's chin trembled as she tried but failed to hold back a small sob.


Christine let her go.  "Where will you go?"


Emma shrugged.


Christine let her hand rest on Emma's upper back, rubbed it gently, the way Jim always did for her when she was upset.


There was no fire left in Emma's voice as she whispered, "I have so little time left, Christine."


"I know."  Christine took a deep breath.  "Why would you run?"


Emma turned to her, almost violently.  "How could I not?  I didn't want you to have to see me die.  Not after you've made so much progress.  Not when you have a chance to find some happiness."


"You think I'm not strong enough?"  Christine shook her head, could feel tears fill her eyes and didn't try to fight them as they fell.  "Well, you're wrong.  Because of you, I am strong enough."  She took a deep breath.  "I won't let you die alone.  And fortunately for you, I happen to be a doctor now."  She nudged the bag of meds away.  "I can take care of you much better than these can."


"Why?"  Emma shook her head; tears ran down her face.  "Why put yourself through this?"


"Because a watcher I know told me that I shouldn't run away from things.  I should stay.   I should fight."


"There is no more fighting to do.   There's nothing you can do.  I'm going to die."


"Yes, you are.  But not alone, Emma.  You won't die alone."  Christine took another deep breath, the sound raspy, full of pain.  "Please don't go.  I can't bear thinking of you alone."


Emma turned, pulled her into a fierce hug.  "Sweet, sweet child."


Christine held her friend tightly.  "I'm older than you, Emma."


Emma pulled away, smoothed back Christine's hair.  She shook her head, as if in defeat.  "I know you are.  And soon you'll have to be the watcher."


Christine took a deep breath, forced herself to stop crying.  She stood straight.  She'd won.  Emma would stay.  Now...now Christine had to be strong.  "You think that any of that tweed will fit me?"


Emma laughed, then pulled out a linen handkerchief and blew her nose.


"Do you have any idea how unsanitary that is?"  Christine reached for the cloth.  "Tissues, disposable."


Emma pulled it away from her.  "In a few weeks, it won't matter."


Christine dropped her hand, nodded.  Such blunt acceptance.  But, Emma was right.  In a few weeks, it wouldn't matter.


"Promise me, we'll be honest.  None of this sparing my feelings, or sugarcoating the truth.  And no more tears.  I don't want to cry anymore, and I don't want you to."


"I promise."  She tried to push Emma away from the suitcase.  "Let me do this.  You rest."


Emma scowled at her.  "That's what I mean.  I can still do this now.  Let me.  Soon enough I'll be resting."  She looked down.  "I'll be resting forever."


Christine nodded, hurt at the tone.


"Oh, Christine, go make us some tea or something.  We're not on deathwatch yet."


She tried to smile.  "Right.  Tea.  Good idea." 


"Christine?" Emma called out as Christine walked toward the door.  "I love you.  Thank you."


Christine turned to look at her.  "You have only yourself to blame."  She tried to grin, almost made it.  "You had to go and help me get well."


Emma smiled at her, so much fondness beaming out of her eyes that Christine nearly choked on the lump in her throat.  Turning quickly to hide the tears Emma didn't want to see, she fled to the kitchen to make tea.  Tea that she suspected neither of them really wanted.




Kirk walked up the stairs to the townhouse door.  He knocked gently, afraid that the chime might disturb Emma if she was sleeping. 


After a few moments, Uhura opened the door.  "Hi."  She slipped aside, giving him room to come in. 


"How is she?"


Uhura shook her head.  "Depends on which she you mean.  At this point, I think Emma's doing better than Christine." 


"Where is Chris?"


Uhura pointed down the stairs.  As he started to head down, she touched his arm.


"Emma asked to see you."


He frowned.  "Me?  Why?"


"I'm not sure.  But she asked me to let you know if I saw you.  Do you want me to take you up?"


He shot a glance down the stairs, then nodded, following Uhura up to the main level and down the long hallway to one of the bedrooms.


Uhura gently pushed the door open.  She smiled softly.  "Emma?  Admiral Kirk is here."


Kirk suddenly wondered if he'd ever told Uhura to call him Jim.  He'd have to do that.  It was long past time.


She turned to him.  "Go on in." 


He stepped into the room, the shades were drawn, the lamp on low.  Emma smiled at him, a shaky smile as if the expression was one of great effort.


He walked over, took her hands.  "Nyota said you wanted to talk to me?"


She nodded, pushed herself to a sitting position.  He reached behind her and rearranged the pillows.


She smiled at him.  "Thank you."


He shrugged slightly.  "It's not much."


"Kindness is never not much."  She took a raspy breath, seemed to be trying not to cough.


"Do you need something?"


She shook her head, held up her hand as if asking him to wait.  He sat down in the chair next to the bed. 


Emma leaned back, took a tentative breath.  "Sorry, moving does that to me.  I'll be fine in a minute.  If you don't mind, some water would be most welcome."


He poured her a glass from the bottle by the bed.  She sipped at it carefully.  He waited.


She smiled.  "Most people find moments like this excruciating.  Start making small talk.  Asking inane questions, or breaking into tears.  I watched it happen with my mother when I was young."  She took another drink.  "But you just sit and wait.  It's a gift, Jim."


He smiled, was unsure what else to say.


"I'm worried about Christine.  It's why I wanted to see you."


He leaned forward.  "She's stronger than she was.  She owes that to you."


Emma shot him a half smile.  "Oh and to you too, I think."


"Maybe."  He shook his head.  "This is hard for her.  Brings back memories of losing Marcus, and Roger, and Spock."


Emma nodded.  "Yes, I know."  She sipped, her expression pensive.  "Would I have liked Spock, do you think?"


Kirk thought about that.  "There was a time when I would have given you an unqualified yes."  He looked down.  "He was my best friend.  But he's gone now.  I know you are aware of what happened, so I won't bore you with the details."  He shifted, tried to get comfortable in the chair.  "I'm not sure how much of the Spock I knew is left."


"Christine believes she drove him to this Gol place."


Kirk nodded.  "I had a hand in that too." 


Emma smiled. 




She shook her head.  "You're both so good at punishing yourselves.  I wish you were half as good at forgiving."


"I can't speak for Chris, but it's difficult to forgive myself when I know that I would do it again.  That I can't see a way not to hurt him."


"I think Christine feels the same."  Emma surprised him by taking his hand.  "This Spock, this best friend of yours.  He's probably never coming back.  You do realize that?"


It wasn't something he liked to think about.  He sighed.


Her hand tightened on his.  "It's a waste of your life to live as if he were going to reappear at any moment."


"I don't think I'm doing that.  I know Chris isn't.  She's made plans.  Has a future all plotted out."  He smiled.  "The Enterprise is the one place she was happy."


Emma rolled her eyes.  "Happy?  She was in hiding.  That's not happiness, it's numbness."


"Well, she's not hiding anymore.  Maybe she can find happiness there this time."


Emma's eyes seemed to flash.  "Maybe it's already standing right in front of her.  Maybe it's just too afraid to reach out for her."


"I'm not afraid."  He tried to pull his hand free, but she held it fast.  He'd forgotten how strong she was. 


She sighed, it was a frustrated sound.  "I believe that you're in love with her.  I know she's in love with you.  Yet here you both are, too damned stupid to reach for what you want."


"What we want?  There are more important things than what we want.  There's loyalty, and trying not to hurt someone any more than we already have."


"I don't have much time, so I'm not going to mince words, Jim.  If you walk away from her, you'll regret it the rest of your life."  Emma leaned forward, seemed like she was about to say more when a coughing fit came over her. 


Kirk helped her lean back against the pillows.  He rubbed her back, high up, wishing with all his heart that he could take her pain away.


She looked up at him.  "There's magic in those hands.  And I do mean that literally."  She closed her eyes, took what seemed like an easier breath.  "Oh, yes.  Thank you."


"I'm sorry I upset you," he said softly.


"I'm not upset.  I just want her to be happy.  You've been kind to me; I'd like to see you happy too.  As it just so happens, I think the two of you would be happy together.  I'd like to help that along."  She shook her head.  "But I guess I should know better than to do that.  If it's meant to be, it'll be."


He met her eyes, let her see how much he wished that it could be, then raised the shutters that he hoped kept his feelings for Chris locked away most of the time.  "I don't think it is meant to be.  How can it be?  To have someone, and to always feel guilty for the having?  Is that happiness?  Is that even right?"


"Only with his blessing?  Is that it?"


He shrugged.  "Sounds old-fashioned.  And pretty stupid when you say it.  But maybe that's it.  If he weren't my friend, but he is.  Was."  He frowned.


"I'll leave it alone then.  I haven't said anything to her.  She's going through enough."  She looked at him intently.  "Will you promise me you'll be her friend?"


He smiled.  "That's an easy one.  I'd die for her."


She shook her head.  "The two of you are some team.  I think you'll keep each other alive."


He looked down.  "She'll be gone soon.  We won't be a team anymore."


"If you'd take my suggestion to heart--"  She smiled at the look he shot her.  "My mother always told me I never knew when to stop pushing."


"She was right."  He smiled though, knew she only had Chris's best interest at heart.


There was a soft knock on the door.  Kirk turned to see who it was. 


Silver stood at the door.  "If this is a bad time?"


Emma held out her hand, her features softening.  "Kevin.  Of course not.  Come in."


Kirk stood up.  "I'll leave you two alone."  He smiled down at Emma.  "I need to check on Chris."


She nodded.  "Yes, you do that."  She sighed.  "Take care of her for me?  Don't let her go back to the dark place."


He wasn't sure he was the best one to keep her out of any dark places, but he nodded solemnly.  He'd keep her from succumbing to the crushing despair, or he'd follow her down into whatever black place she wanted to call home.  And he'd stay with her until she was ready to walk out again--on her own.




Uhura watched Christine pummel the punching bag, and sighed, snuggling deeper into the chair in the corner of the basement.  It was going to be a long wait before she could try again to talk Christine into eating or getting some sleep.  Her friend was barely taking a moment between blows and kicks, her grunts getting louder as she hit the bag increasingly hard.


Kirk came down the stairs and stood in the doorway, watching Christine for a long time, his face unreadable, before he walked over and sat down on the padded bench across the room.  He looked over at Uhura, the slight lift of his eyebrows asking her for a status report, the way he used to on the bridge, when he didn't want the others to hear how bad it was.  She shook her head very slightly, the old answer that said, "It's bad."  He nodded, the gesture barely more than a slight tilt of his head, a slight dip of his eyelids. 


She missed this interaction, the easy way she could read him and what he needed from her.  Saw by his expression that he did too.  She would have it back soon, or its replacement--whatever system Decker implemented to find out what he needed to know from her without words.  But what would Kirk have to replace it?


Christine kicked hard, then stopped the bag.  She turned to look at Kirk.  "You saw her?"


He nodded.


They stared at each other for a long moment.  Uhura couldn't see Christine's expression, but Kirk's seemed to soften, compassion for the watcher and Christine evident.


Christine turned away abruptly, whacked the ball hard with the back of her hand, followed up with another fierce chop.  She kept up the routine.  Smack, smack, smack. 


Uhura rubbed her eyes.  She had a fierce headache, born more out of worry for Christine than anything else.  She looked over at Kirk.  "Is Emma alone?"


"Silver is with her."


There was a slight break in Christine's tempo, but she didn't say anything.


Kirk and Uhura shared a look.  He leaned back against the wall, watched Christine silently.


Suddenly, Christine reached out and stopped the bag again.  She didn't look at either of them, just stood breathing hard.  "I wish you two would stop staring at me."


"We're just worried about you," Uhura said softly.


"Uh huh.  And have you reserved the padded cell yet, or will that come later?"


Uhura didn't recognize the bite in her friend's tone.  This must be what Len had been telling her Christine was like just before she ran away.  Brittle, sharp.  Ready to explode. 


Kirk laughed.  "Because you're working off a little steam?  How many times do you think I went down to the gym alone and punched the hell out of the bag?  You think I don't know what you're doing?  You think I don't know the frustration you feel trying to keep it together for Emma while inside you just want to fall apart?"


Christine turned to look at him.  The sharp tenseness of her shoulders seemed to relax.  "How did you do it?  How did you hold it together?"


"The same way you are.  One moment at a time." 


Christine stepped closer to him, held out her hand and he took it.  "I'm sorry."  She turned to include Uhura in the apology.  "I'm just so..."


"Tired," Uhura finished for her.  "You need to rest."  She knew it was a losing argument.  But the Uhura women were nothing if not stubborn.


The Chapel women outdid them though.  "I'm fine."


"You're not fine," Kirk said. "You're overtired and you probably haven't eaten.  Do you know what Bones would be saying to me right now?  What you would be saying to me, if our places were reversed?"


Christine sighed, throwing her head back and rolling her neck as if trying to work out far too many kinks.


"Come here."  Kirk let go of her, patted the seat next to him. 


She didn't move right away, seemed poised to jump away if he reached for her.  But he didn't reach for her, just sat quietly.  Waiting.


With a sigh, Christine sat down next to him.


He shifted slightly, began to knead her neck.  "You'll be no good to Emma if you can't function.  And you need rest to function.  And what if you have to go out on patrol one of these nights?  You could get hurt because you're too tired to pay attention.  How will that help Emma?"  His voice was gentle, not chiding, just reminding her of the facts.


"The other slayers are patrolling," Christine said softly.


"They're not gone yet?"


Christine shook her head.




Uhura smiled softly, put her head down on her arm and watched as Christine's expression slowly relaxed.  Lie down, she sent her friend, thinking her love ought to count for at least a sleep spell.


Christine groaned.  Kirk let go of her, shifted a bit so that he was in a more comfortable position, then said softly, "You need to sleep."


Christine's eyes were drooping.


Yes, you need to sleep, Uhura silently tried to reinforce Kirk's suggestion.


Christine swung her legs up on the bench, slowly stretched out, her head in Kirk's lap.  She seemed tense, her body held tightly, as if she was about to jump back up.  


Kirk didn't say anything, but he moved his hand to her hair, began to stroke it gently.


Uhura felt her own eyes closing as she watched the rhythmic movement of his hand.  Christine moaned, and she shifted on the bench, her body relaxing, her eyes slowly falling shut.  In a moment, she was out.


Kirk smiled, looked over at Uhura and shook his head. "Stubborn," he said softly.


Uhura nodded.


"You could use some sleep too."


"I'm fine, sir."




She frowned. 


"Call me Jim.  I should have told you that a long time ago, Nyota."


Uhura smiled tiredly.  "Jim."  She yawned.  "I'm not that tired."


He smiled at the fib.  "I'll wake you if Emma needs anything."


Sleep was so tempting.  She watched as Jim's hand slid down Christine's hair.  He was such a good man.  And good for Christine.  He'd look out for her.  He'd look out for them all.


"Sleep," he said again.


"All right."  She lay her head back down, let her eyes close.  She opened them a second later, saw that he had turned back to watch Christine.  The look on his face was unguarded, tired.  And full of such tenderness that Uhura felt as if she was intruding on the two of them. 


She shifted in the chair to get more comfortable, closed her eyes and allowed herself to relax, secure in the knowledge that she was safe as long as he was watching over them.




The slow rise and fall of the monitors lulled Christine into a nearly hypnotic state.  Emma's breathing was labored; she was sleeping more and more.  A sleep made accessible by the heavy painkillers she increasingly needed.


Christine shifted in the chair.  She looked over at Emma, saw that she was awake and watching her.


"Are you in pain?" Christine asked softly.


Emma smiled.  "No."


Christine had mixed in some other meds, meds designed to relax Emma, remove her slightly from any fear. 


"What happens to us?" Emma asked, her voice barely more than a croak.


"When we die?"


Emma nodded.


"I don't know."


Emma frowned slightly.  "But you died.  What happened?"


Christine shrugged.  "I don't remember very much.  It was dark and peaceful.  No one wanted to hurt me and I didn't have to hunt anyone anymore."  She sighed.  "I didn't get very far before they brought me back."


"Well, I'm glad for that."  Emma smiled, then held her hand out.


Christine took it and held on tightly.  She tried not to react to how little strength Emma had when she squeezed back.


"I'm glad I killed the bolus demons.  I'm glad Kevin made me your watcher."


Christine fought the tears.  Emma didn't want them, and Christine could cry when this was over.  "I am too."


"It's getting dark.  Is it night?"


The light hadn't changed in the room.  "Yes, it's very late."


"You knew Laura, didn't you?" Emma asked.   "That's how Jim made her come alive for us."


"I knew her."


"You watched her die.  At the Gotterdammerung?"


"Yes."  Christine closed her eyes. "I wanted to tell you.  I wanted to tell David too.  But I couldn't."


"I understand.  He would too."  Emma smiled.  "Don't give Kirsu to Kevin.  I'm not sure he'll share it.  Keep it for the slayers."  She smiled.  "It's what David would have wanted."


Emma's gaze was suddenly drawn to something above the foot of the bed.  She shifted her gaze from one spot to another and back again.




"They're here.  How wonderful."  She seemed to be talking to herself, her hand loosened on Christine's.  "I wasn't sure...but he did care for me."  She smiled, a beautiful smile.  "And Laura. They came."


Christine looked at the spots that drew Emma's attention.  She imagined two people standing there, could picture how soft David's eyes might be if he were free of the hatred that had warped him, how Laura's smile would light up the dark for Emma.  Take care of her, she tried to tell these ghosts only Emma could see.  Please take care of her.


She looked back at Emma.  Her watcher's eyes were closed.  The monitors chimed softly once and then went still as the level indicators all went black.  Christine had missed the moment; she had missed Emma's death.


She could almost hear Emma correcting her.  Death was more than just a moment.  Christine had been there for all of it.  She didn't need to see a last breath to have been a witness.


She busied herself with the things that needed to be done after death.  The times and numbers recorded, the medicine drips removed.  She leaned down, kissed Emma's cheek. 


"Safe journey, Emma.  I'll never forget you."  She bit back a sob.  "Don't forget me."


She straightened back up.




She looked up.  Jim was at the door. 


"How long have you been there?"


"Long enough."  He stepped into the room, held his arms out to her. 


She didn't hesitate, hurried to him, almost threw herself at him. 


His arms closed around her tightly, and he said, "Let it out.  It's all right to let go now."  He rubbed her neck, his mouth on her hair, near her ear, whispering, "Let it out."


The control she'd maintained for Emma's sake shattered and she heard a strange wailing sound coming from somewhere.  Then she realized the broken animal-like cry was coming from her.  She tried to pull away, afraid that she was breaking apart.  The terrible cry sounded again.


"Oh, sweetheart.  I'm sorry."  He eased his hold on her, letting his arms drop to her waist, making it easy for her to pull away if she wanted to.


She looked up at him.  "What do I do?"


He smiled gently.  "Whatever you have to."


She felt the panic recede.  His hands on her waist rested lightly, supporting her but not holding her.  His eyes were so calm, so concerned.  She moved back against him, relaxed and felt his arms tighten around her.


"You're safe," he whispered. 


She let go then.  Let the tears that felt as if they were a pounding tidal wave inside her head, finally burst free.  He didn't say anything, just held her while she wept.


She felt a slight tingle, and then it was as if a heavy cloak had fallen around them, blocking out the light and the outside world.  Keeping everything out but them.  The darkness seemed to settle around her, protecting her, keeping her safe.  As she gave herself over to the pain inside her, she heard his words echoing softly all around her, as if the blackness was saying, "It's all right.  You're safe.  It's all right."


She didn't know how long she wept.  She only stopped when she couldn't breathe anymore.  He handed her a tissue, wiped her face with his thumbs, the pressure gentle across her cheeks. 


Her head throbbed and she couldn't stop the half-sobs that kept escaping. 


He gently drew her out of the bedroom.  She saw Uhura waiting in the hallway, concern and pain evident on her face.  She walked to Christine's other side, wrapped her arms around her and said, "I'm so sorry."


Christine realized someone else stood in the hallway.  She blinked hard, not sure what she wanted to say to Silver.


He stepped forward, his face void of any of his normal unpleasant expressions.  She realized he was blinking hard. 


She stretched out her hand, and he took it, held on to her tightly for a long moment then let go.


"She wanted to be buried with the other watchers," he said.


Christine realized he was asking for her permission; she nodded. 


"I'll make arrangements for transportation then." 


As he turned to head down the stairs, Christine whispered, "Thank you for sending her to me."


He turned slowly.  Unshed tears were bright in his eyes.  "I didn't do it just for you."  He smiled slightly.  "I never cared a whit about those damned bolus demons."  He blinked rapidly, turning and fleeing down the stairs but not before the tears he'd worked loose fell.


Christine sobbed, felt Jim's arm tighten around her.


"What now?" Uhura asked quietly.


Christine glanced back into the room, saw Emma lying serenely.  No pain, no effort to breathe.  Just peace. 


"I'll make some tea," Christine said softly. 


It was what Emma would have done.