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) 2003 by Djinn. This story is Rated PG-13.
The Lost Years: Release
by Djinn
Kirk walked into his office
pleasantly tired from his latest lesson with Weasel. Despite the mental drain--he'd never
concentrated so hard or long in his life--he felt good, felt strong. It wasn't that he'd made all that much
progress since that first meeting when he'd been tested. But it felt as if he was finally doing
something positive with his life.
Finally doing something that might make a difference to someone someday.
"Sir?" His assistant
stood at the door. He had to reach for
the name. Lieutenant
Commander Hall. His assistants
seemed to change with alarming frequency.
Just when he'd begun to get comfortable with the current one, he or she
would be shipped out. Kirk had a feeling
that the timing was not coincidental.
Someone--Nogura, he suspected now--wanted to keep him isolated. "Yes, Commander?"
"This came for you,
sir." He handed Kirk a small
package. "I need a signature for
receipt."
He held out a padd and Kirk
laid his thumb against it. "Where
did this come from?"
"I'm not sure,
sir."
"Okay. That'll be all, Commander."
"Yes,
sir."
Once the door closed, Kirk
tore the package open, wondering if he would find more data modules like the
one he was still hiding for Carl. But
the box held two padds.
He picked up the top one and
turned it on. A video started on the
small screen. "Admiral
Kirk." He paused the
recording. His heart started to beat impossibly
fast. It was Spock on the small
screen. Just a
recording, but still Spock. The
first glimpse he'd had of his friend in months.
"Spock," he whispered
as he resumed play.
"In the box you have
received are two padds. The one you are
watching now is for you. There is a
second recording after this one concludes.
The other padd is for Christine.
I am unsure if she is still at the address at which I last found
her. You, on the other hand, seem to
always be aware of where she is."
Kirk closed his eyes. Spock's words stung. He gave up any hope that this was a message
of reconciliation and forgiveness.
"I ask you to give her
the padd. It is the last thing I shall
ever ask you to do. I hope you will
honor it as you would any other last request.
I know that in human terms, such a thing is important."
"You're not dead,
Spock," Kirk muttered, his lips tightening.
The Vulcan could still read
his mind, or at least anticipate his reaction.
"While I might not, strictly speaking, be dead, I will be
changed. Totally and
irrevocably changed when I master the Kohlinar discipline. So this is, indeed, a last request from the
Spock that you knew. Please see that
Christine receives the padd in a timely manner."
Kirk grinned sourly. Spock knew how to word it too. Kirk had been considering not giving it to
Christine until later...much later. He
wasn't sure he even wanted to listen to his own message, could only imagine
what a message to Christine might say.
"You are, of course,
free to watch her recording if you wish."
Kirk shook his head. Spock was pulling out all the stops. Every word seemed designed to demonstrate
both how well he knew Kirk and how little he trusted him anymore.
The recording ended. No goodbyes.
Just ended.
Kirk took a deep breath and began to play the second recording.
"Admiral."
The word was said so formally,
so tightly. No hint that this man had
ever called him anything else, that he had ever called him Jim.
"As you know I am
beginning my study of the Kohlinar discipline and this will take me to a path
of pure logic, a place where emotions are purged. Truly purged, not just controlled. I believe I will finally find peace. I have tried, in the past, to live my own
way, but it did not, in the long run, set me free the way I thought it
should. In fact, it made me a prisoner
of emotions that I would rather not experience ever again."
Kirk sighed. He knew it was only going to get worse. He could feel himself getting angry, angry that
his friend couldn't have called, couldn't have let this be a dialogue rather
than a monologue. Couldn't have let Kirk
have his chance to say how guilty he still felt, how sorry he was that he'd
hurt Spock.
But not how sorry he was that
he'd kept Chris's location from him. And
that was the crux of their problem. He regretted
hurting his friend, but he'd made a promise to Chris. He wasn't sorry he hadn't broken it, and
Spock would never forgive him for that.
Spock continued, "The
hardest emotion I find is this anger inside me for you and for Christine. This immense sense of
betrayal. Soon, that feeling will
be gone, but for now it consumes me. And
so, according to the instructions of the priestess, I must prepare for the
purging by reaching some form of closure.
It is not forgiveness, nor will I forget. To be more clear, the
Spock who I am right now will not forget. To the Spock who I will become, this anger
will be beyond irrelevant. But for now,
I must give it the attention it deserves.
I must tell you how you have hurt me,
acknowledge the great pain I feel."
Spock actually swallowed hard. He
obviously did feel a great deal.
"Don't lose that,
Spock," Kirk said softly. Would his
friend anticipate those words?
"I am filled with
betrayal, and it poisons me. This love
inside me for you, for Christine, it is not a good thing. It is not healthy or life affirming. It weighs me down, makes my logic
questionable, makes my behavior erratic. There is nothing good in this love. And I do not know if it is because I do not
know how to love, or because I chose to love two people who were completely undeserving
of my affection. I shall not try to
answer that question. But perhaps you
already know--you who are such a master of emotions."
"Damn you,
Spock." Kirk looked over at Chris'
padd, tempted to smash it to bits, to spare her this.
"Christine was my bondmate, Jim."
Spock's voice cracked, his use of Kirk's first name seemed accidental,
driven by emotion. "You knew what
that meant and still you kept her from me?
Why? Did you not want me to be
happy? Did you believe my love for her
was not real? Did you think I would hurt
her? You did not even give me the chance
to try with her. And when I finally
found her, it was far too late. Did you
know that? That she was lost to me when
you finally admitted the truth?"
"I was just protecting
her, Spock."
"I will never understand
your actions, Admiral. Nor hers. But soon, I
will not have to try to understand those actions. They will be beneath my notice. The Spock you knew, the one you called
friend, will be dead, and a new Spock will arise." Spock's expression was wry. "Not unlike Christine's vampires. Ironic." His expression faded to the neutral, stoic
face that Kirk was coming to hate. "Spock out."
The screen went dead. Kirk could feel his lips trembling in
anger. He threw the padd across the
room.
"Sir?" Hall came
running at the sound. "Is
everything all right?"
"Yes." He picked up Christine's padd then he walked
over to the other padd, picking it up and dropping it in the recycler. He never wanted to watch that message
again. "I have to go out for a
while."
"Yes,
sir."
He walked down the halls of
Command, going faster than was normal, noticed that people were getting out of
his way, moving to the other side of the hallway as he barreled down the
corridor. He turned, then
turned again, weaving through interior hallways that would link up with
Starfleet Medical. Finally, he was in
the main reception. The nurse on duty
looked up, probably thinking from the way he was
hurrying that he had an emergency.
"Where can I find Doctor
Chapel?" he asked.
She checked her roster. "She's doing rounds on the fourth
floor." Kirk started to turn for
the elevator. "Sir, I can page
her."
He nodded. Yes.
Yes, that would be better.
He walked over to the waiting
area, perched on one of the chairs, turning her padd over and over in his hand
as he waited for what seemed like forever.
"Jim? Is everything all right?"
She looked so good to
him. He wanted to pull her down, to hold
her and hide the padd and not let Spock hurt her the
way Kirk knew that he would.
"Chris." He sounded
lost and old and defeated.
She sat down next to
him. "Jim, what is it? Is it Carl?" She'd checked on his friend for him, hadn't
been able to determine a cause for his rapid decline. But she'd told him that the attending physician
had prescribed some additional supportive measures, and Carl had seemed to
rally a bit for a few days. But when
Kirk had visited him earlier in the day, he'd looked weaker.
"No. Not Carl." He pressed the padd into her hands. "I don't want to give this to you. But he said I had to."
"Who said that?"
He shook his head. "Don't look at it until you get
home. Promise me you won't look at it
until you get home?"
"I promise." She touched his hand.
Her fingers on his skin were
so soothing. He could sit this way
forever and be happy with just her touching him, never moving, never having to
hear that he was a bad friend, that he'd chased his best friend into hell. And that he'd kept his woman--his wife--from
him.
What would Spock say to what
was happening between them now? How
would he feel knowing Kirk wanted to do worse than just keep them apart? He wanted her. Wanted Spock's wife.
He snatched his hand back,
afraid to accept even such simple comfort from her. Afraid of what it could mean. Of how much he longed for it.
To want her was wrong.
"Jim?"
He stood up, looked down at
her. Almost against his will, he touched
her face, let his hand cradle her cheek for a long
moment. "I'm sorry."
Then he fled.
-----------------------------
Christine finished one last
circuit through the cemetery closest to Emma's house. She'd staked five vamps already. None of them had appeared to have had a clue
how to fight, or even where or what they were.
Wharton had to be behind this. Killing random strangers, making these ignorant monsters to stand
between her and him. Cannon fodder. Slayer fodder.
And a waste
of her time. She killed fledgling vampires while he did
god only knew what. But whatever it was,
it would be about Emma and it wouldn't be good.
She'd stopped at Emma's when
she'd begun her patrol, but her watcher had begged off on training or even just
a bit of company, pleading a headache.
She'd looked paler than normal. Pale and afraid. She
wouldn't admit that she'd received any messages from Wharton, but Christine
suspected that she had and just wasn't telling her.
Or maybe not receiving
anything from him but knowing he was out there was worse.
Christine heard a noise, saw
another vamp rising, grave dirt spilling up as the creature fought its way free. This one hadn't been on Christine's list of
suspicious kills. It was a homeless
person possibly, one of the lost ones that the
Federation liked to pretend no longer existed.
Christine knew better. So did the
vamps. They loved to prey on the lost
ones. Wharton had probably killed this
one and stuffed her in the nearest grave to rise when she was ready.
Rise alone. All alone. Christine stalked over to where the vampire
had pulled herself halfway out the ground.
She staked her before the woman could even look up.
No one should have to be that
alone. To wake up in a
shallow grave, to panic, to claw and scratch and scream only to have dirt fall
into your open mouth.
Spike had told her that when
Buffy had been brought back to life, her friends had at first thought they had
failed, had left her alive in her grave.
She'd had to claw her way out.
It was Christine's worst
nightmare.
It was probably every
slayer's worst nightmare. To be
turned. To wake up in that box and be
one of them. One of
the things that slayers hunted.
There were scores of slayers
who had been turned. They made the most
vicious vampires. The
most cunning, the most deadly.
They didn't go down easy; they often took their executioners with them.
Christine sighed. Her hunt was going nowhere and she was just
depressing herself with thoughts of being turned and shallow graves.
She turned for home, the walk
more pleasant than she expected. The
stars were out in force, the beautiful balls of fire that looked so cold from
here. Did she want to be back out
there? Freed from patrol, from the daily
grind of killing and hunting and doing things that normal people didn't even
know took place in their safe, civilized cities.
She could be with Uhura. With Sulu and Chekov and
Rand again. All
the people who were uncomplicatedly her friends. Not her boss, or the first officer she had
loved and bonded with, or the captain she was falling in lov-- She clamped down
on that thought. Like digging out of her
grave, it was a thought that was not helpful, not productive.
Her apartment felt stuffy and
cold to her. She sat down at her table
with a cup of coffee. It still felt odd
to not have homework to do, to be free of classes. Even odder to be called Doctor now. But she loved it. She'd finally made it.
She dug out the padd Jim had
brought by. He'd looked so lost. Who could it be from?
She hit play. Felt her heart skip a beat as Spock appeared
on the screen.
This could not be good.
"Christine." Spock's voice held no warmth. "I have recorded a similar message for
Admiral Kirk." His voice sounded
even colder as he said Jim's name. Now
she understood why Jim had looked so crushed.
Had he really thought Spock would forgive him--forgive them?
"I believe you know that
I am at Gol.
Here, I will undertake a discipline known as Kohlinar. I will purge all of my emotions. Or, to put it in terms that you will relate
to, I plan to slay them." The look
he shot her was an odd one. It seemed laced
with irony, and just a hint of cruelty.
"I will do that because I think they were, if not evil, then at
least wrong for me to hold, to carry. I
have been in a dark place since you left me.
You betrayed me when you ran, Christine.
I know I did not consult you when I severed our bond, but that action
was not the crime that running, that letting me hunt for you has been. Could you not have met with me face to
face?" He stopped, swallowed hard.
"Like you're doing here,
Spock?" She could feel herself
shutting down. Did not
want to hear anymore. She hit
stop.
She took a deep breath. Why should she listen to this?
Some masochistic tendency
made her hit play again.
"I did everything I
could to be the man you wanted me to be.
I loved you as I have never loved anyone. I gave you everything I had. And still you ran. We both know my actions at our last meeting
were dishonorable. I am ashamed of what
my love for you made me do. I am
ashamed, in fact, of that love. Soon, I
will not feel anything, not for you, not for Admiral Kirk, not for anyone. I will be a creature of pure logic. And I welcome that."
He stopped. Stared at her. His voice was very soft, his expression one
of controlled misery, when he said, "What did I do wrong? That is the only thing I wish I
knew." He seemed to shake himself. "That will soon be irrelevant. I wonder if Spike will please you any longer
than I did?"
The screen went blank.
She could feel her mouth
twisting, knew her expression was ugly.
"Go to hell, Spock."
But she knew that he was
already in Hell. And she'd put him
there. She and Jim.
Jim. He'd gotten a message too.
She ran out the door and down
the stairs, realizing only when she was halfway to his building that she'd left
her stakes behind. She laughed and it
was an awful sound. She pitied any vamp
that tried to take her on tonight.
She slowed to a walk as she
came up to Kirk's street. The doorman
saw her, opened the door for her. She
forgot to thank him, yelled it from the elevator, unsure if he heard her, not
really caring. The ride up seemed to
take forever, she ran down the hall, her boots making too much noise in the
quiet hallway, but she didn't care. She
hit his chime, hit it again and again.
He opened the door, stared at
her.
"Let me in, Jim."
He shook his head. When she tried to move around him, he blocked
her way.
"We both know you could
get by me easily. But you won't try,
will you, Chris? Don't try that."
"Jim, please?" She didn't move, didn't try to push him.
"If you come in, we both
know what will happen." He closed
his eyes. "We're hurt, and we're
mad. And we want to hurt him."
"No. That's not it. Not for me anyway." She looked around his hallway. "Jim, do we have to do this here?"
He nodded. "Yes, we do. Out here is safe. In there"--he looked into the darkness
of his apartment--"isn't safe at all." He swallowed hard. "See, I'm in love with you. I want you.
Want you so much. And I can't
ever have you."
"Why
not?" She reached for him but he shied back. "I love you too. I want you too."
She moved closer, touched his
neck, her hand falling on the scars from Anacost's
bite. He shuddered. Then he pulled her to him, his lips desperate
on hers, his hands roaming frantically down her body. She tried to ease him back, get them safely
into his apartment, but he pushed her away with a strangled, "No!"
She reached out for him,
breathing hard, trying to get back the moment, if she could just get back into
his arms they'd be okay.
He drew away even more, said,
"No. We can't do this. Not ever."
She swallowed, her throat was
too tight. "Jim, I need you."
"Not like this. I can't."
"I know you feel
guilty. But he's gone. Spock's gone, Jim."
"I don't feel like he
is. All I know is that I hurt my friend. And I won't do it again."
They stared at each other
helplessly.
Finally, she whispered,
"You're my friend too. I depend on
you."
"Well, don't." He laughed--if she'd thought her laughter had
been awful, his sent chills down her spine.
"I shouldn't have destroyed my padd. Should have let you listen to what a great
friend I am. How you can depend on
me." His expression was twisted, as
if he was fighting pain back with sheer will.
"Release.
That's what he wanted. Release."
She shook her head. "No.
He wanted revenge. Can't you see
that?"
"Well, he's getting
it." Kirk looked down. "Go away, Chris. I can't do this anymore. None of it."
"Jim?"
He stepped back. The door closed between them.
She rang the chime again, but
he didn't open the door. She held the
chime down, knew he must have disengaged the sound. She was tempted to use her medical override
but knew that he'd never forgive the trespass.
She beat softly against the
door. "Jim," she
whispered. "Jim, please let me
in."
Finally she left.
She didn't realize she was
taking the wrong way home until she saw that she was on Emma's street. She looked up at her watcher's townhouse; all
the lights were off. Emma had probably
gone to bed, trying to sleep off her headache.
She didn't need some lovelorn slayer bothering her.
Christine walked on
home. Alone.
----------
Kirk sat on the floor by his
door. Chris had finally gone away. He'd turned off the audio to the chime, but
had left on the intercom. He'd heard her
perfectly. It had been so hard, so very
hard, to sit and not open the door to her.
If she'd started to cry...he'd have been lost.
But she hadn't cried. And he hadn't opened the door.
And now she was gone. Forever. She was gone forever.
He wanted to run after
her. Stop her. Bring her back and love her and take care of
her and let her take care of him and never, ever be alone again.
But he couldn't. Not now, not after seeing himself through
Spock's eyes. He knew intellectually
that Spock had a biased view--his own view.
But it had hurt, hurt more than Kirk would ever
have imagined to listen to his best friend take him to task. Maybe, if he still had McCoy, Spock's words
wouldn't have hurt as much?
But McCoy was gone, angry at
Kirk for yet another bad decision--the one that had tied him to his desk, to
this cold, lonely apartment. The apartment
he wouldn't let Chris into anymore, that he'd never tell her only seemed
welcoming when she was in it with him.
He sighed, pushed himself
up. It took too much energy, and he felt
as if he were ancient. He checked the
chrono; it was late. Chris had stood at
his door forever. She hadn't been
willing to give up. Not easily
anyway. But even a slayer knew when to
quit.
He grabbed his coat, opened
the door, found himself hoping that she would still be
there, waiting silently for him.
The hallway was empty. She was gone.
He didn't want to sleep,
didn't want to lie in his empty bed and stare at the ceiling. Better to go check on Carl. He'd looked so much worse this morning.
This morning seemed a million
hours ago.
He was a block from Starfleet
Headquarters when he heard a noise behind him.
He looked in the blackened store window he was passing. Nothing was behind him. Again the noise came. Closer this time.
He turned slowly, pulled the
stake out. "It's a bad night to do
this."
The vampire just smiled.
"See, I'm in love with
this woman. She loves me too. She told me that tonight. Normally this would be a cause for
celebration--"
The vampire rushed him, ran
right into his stake and blew into dust.
Kirk looked around, hoping for more.
There weren't any more.
He shoved the stake away,
brushed the dust off his shoulders.
Even a vampire didn't want to
listen to his side of the story.
The rest of his walk to
Starfleet Medical was uneventful. He
nodded to the night nurse on duty, made his way to the intensive care
ward.
Carl's bed was empty. He stood staring at it stupidly.
"Sir? Can I help
you?" The nurse's voice told him
everything.
"He left, right? Felt better and got up and walked out. He'll be at staff meeting tomorrow. Cracking jokes. I've missed that."
"Sir, Admiral Richter
passed away this even--"
"--No." He turned,
walked out quickly. "No."
His last
friend. His last friend was dead.
And someone had killed
him.
That someone would pay.
He headed for the motel, for
Weasel. Weasel would know what to
do. He just had to get to Weasel.
Women and men propositioned
him as he walked. He didn't even answer
them. Just hurried
past them. One of them tried to
stop him, took one look at his face and backed away slowly.
He didn't look at her, just
kept walking.
Weasel. He had to get to Weasel.
A couple waited in the lobby
of the motel, Weasel was handing them a key.
He saw Kirk standing outside, looking at him through the window. He held up a finger, finished his business, then walked outside.
"You're a lot of hours
early, Mac." He glared at
Kirk. "And projecting pain for all
you're worth."
Kirk didn't answer, unsure
why he'd thought this man he hardly knew would be the one to help him.
"And you've got vampire
dust in your hair. That's very bad for
business."
Kirk looked at him
stupidly. "You rent to
vampires."
"Hey, they need a room
too."
"Do you take care of the
disposal afterwards?" Kirk shook
his head. Did nothing in his world make
sense anymore?
"No. They don't kill here. I run a nice, safe place. Transactions happen; blood and money change
hands. But nobody dies." He turned back to the lobby. "Now shake your hair out and then come
in. I've got fresh coffee brewing."
Kirk shook his head, brushing
at his hair, then followed Weasel in.
The sorcerer looked up from
the coffee pot. "You like it black,
Mac?"
"My name is Jim."
Weasel seemed about to launch
into the same lecture he'd given Kirk the day they met, then
he closed his mouth, staring at Kirk hard.
"Okay, Jim. What the hell
happened to you today?"
"Friend died. Friend hates me. Friend left me."
"Is this all the same
friend?"
"No." Kirk thought of what he'd felt when he'd
tried to protect Carl with magic.
"Can you poison someone?
Supernaturally, I mean?"
Weasel nodded. "It takes more than just a spell
though. You need constant reinforcement
of it."
"Like a witch nearby,
all the time?"
"A witch without a
conscience, but yeah, that would do it. Any
kind of focus would, as long as it was something near the victim that the
person casting the spell could project into." He fell silent for a moment, then he asked, "You think your friend was killed with
magic?"
"He got sick," Kirk
said, taking too big a sip of coffee and scalding his tongue. It didn't seem to
hurt any worse than his heart did. "For no reason.
He wasn't sick. Not at all."
"Where is he?"
"He's dead, I told
you."
"His
body, Jim. Where's his body?"
"I don't know."
"Can you find out by
Kirk looked at him, not
understanding.
"Be discreet and find
out where they've taken the body. If we
do it soon, there'll be some residue. If it was magical."
"You'd do that for
me?"
"Color me curious,
Mac." Weasel shot him a small grin
that dared him to challenge the name.
Kirk just nodded.
"What about those other
two friends?"
Kirk shook his head. "Not magical. My fault."
Weasel waited. When Kirk didn't say
anything more. "One of them
has to be a woman."
Kirk nodded.
Weasel stood up and refilled
his mug. "You know, you're not
exactly Mister Forthcoming here."
"I love her. I can't have her. I sent her away."
"I thought you said she
left you. Or is this the one who hates
you? Cuz what
with all the lack of details, I'm getting mixed up."
"The one who hates me
was her husband."
"Ah. The light dawns." Weasel put his feet up on the counter. "My friend, don't you know not to mess
in a friend's nest?"
"Yes. Yes, I do. And I didn't." Kirk stood up, his coffee splashed him. He registered that it was hot, but didn't
react otherwise.
"Okay, sit
down." Weasel sighed. "So, you didn't do anything with her?"
Kirk shook his head. "Not while they were together. But now...we're friends and I like her. And there's more than like--I love
her." He was rambling like a
teenager. He shut up.
"Can I ask you a
question?"
"Yeah." He finished
his coffee, put the mug on the counter.
"Why can't you still be
her friend?"
"What?" Kirk took a deep breath. "Weren't you listening? I love her."
"Mac, the essence of
magic is self-control. If you don't have
enough to keep your paws off a woman you value as a friend, then you don't have
enough to master what I'm going to teach you." He waited for Kirk to think about that. "You really think you can't be her
friend?"
Kirk shrugged.
"Go find out where your
other friend's body is. We'll check it
out instead of working downstairs today.
Your personal issues can wait till you can think straight again."
Kirk nodded, walked to the
door.
"Hey,
Mac. Why'd you come to me?"
He turned around. Stared hard at Weasel. "I just knew you'd help me."
"Why?"
Kirk frowned. There was a correct answer to this
question. What was it? "Because you're my
teacher."
It must have been the right
answer because Weasel nodded. "Get
out of here. I'll see you at five."
--------------
Christine stalked through the
cemetery. She'd just been trying to get
home and have a good cry and Thompson had found her. Since he wouldn't let her be, she'd decided
to patrol. She'd even borrowed his
stake.
"I just don't see why I
can't help you?" Thompson was
practically running to keep up with her.
"You're always alone. These
people that make you do this, don't they ever send any
back-up with you?"
She turned around, saw that
he was breathing heavily and took pity on him.
"Nobody 'makes' me come out here, Bob." She sighed, stuck his stake back in her
jacket. If Wharton had been here, which
Christine doubted, Thompson's yelling would have scared him away.
She sat down on a nearby
bench.
Thompson sat down tentatively
beside her. "Now I've ticked you
off."
"I've had a really bad
day. And you spoiled my hunt."
He frowned. "Is that what this is? A hunt?"
She sighed. "I'm trying to find someone very
dangerous. You being here is not helping. Come
on, I'll walk you back to the entrance."
"I want to help
you. You're always alone."
He had no idea. Jim had just made it clear he couldn't be her
friend--or whatever it was he thought he was to her--anymore. Uhura was working overtime lately with the
engineers on the final plans for the comm system on the
"I'm always alone
because I have no friends here," he said softly. "Why are you alone, Christine?"
She shrugged. "Job specification, I guess." She suddenly pulled out the stake and in
frustration threw it overhand like a knife, pretending that Spock had been
turned into a vampire and stood in front of her. The stake buried itself deep into a tree
trunk, right where his heart would have been.
Damn Spock anyway.
"Maybe
if you talked about it? I'm here if you nee--"
Thompson's offer was cut off
by a jaunty, ""Nice shot, pet.
Good to see you haven't lost your touch with the pointy sticks."
She looked up, a huge grin on
her face. Spike was walking down the
path, black leather coat billowing behind him.
He looked quite the proper bad boy.
She grinned and stood up, as he yanked the stake out of the tree.
"You've got company, I
better go." Thompson was up and
halfway down the path before she could respond, his ungainly walk seemed the
very picture of unhappiness.
"Got a new partner in my
absence?" Spock handed her the
stake, then pulled her in for a kiss. It
was a sweet kiss, full of affection and a hint that if things had been different
it would be much, much more. "I've
missed you, Christine."
She pulled him tight, for
once not having to worry that she'd hurt the person she held.
"Hey." He pulled away, studied her. "You don't look good. I mean, you look smashing, don't worry about
that. But you've had some kind of day,
haven't you? What's wrong?"
She shook her head.
He kissed her again, the way
he'd done when they lived together and he was trying to worm something out of
her. Soft little kisses along her
neckline that tickled and made her giggle.
She didn't giggle this time.
"Christine?"
"I'm fine. Really."
"No, you're not. Is it Spock?"
"When isn't
it?" She shook her head. "Even from another planet he can
interfere in my life. It's
amazing."
Jim loved her. She was still processing that. Jim loved her.
Spike looked down the path,
the way Thompson had gone. "Don't
think your boy likes this much, our standing so close, my kissing
you."
At first she thought he was
talking about Jim, then realized he meant
Thompson. "Oh,
him."
"I take it he's an
admirer of yours? Of
the geek kind."
"He's a nice guy. Lonely. Sort of a puppy dog
type."
He nodded, stared hard at
Thompson. She turned to look, saw that
Thompson was looking back at them. Then
he turned, moving quickly down the sidewalk, back to town hopefully. She was relieved to see him go. She didn't need to be worrying about him when
she had a watcher turned vampire to find and kill.
"What are you doing
here? Do you need a place to
sleep?" She almost hoped he'd say
yes. Knew what would happen if he did. And didn't care. Just wanted to forget for a
night that she hurt.
He shook his head. "I'm on my way up to Sunnydale."
"Sunnydale?" Would he never
get over his Buffy obsession?
"Got
wind of some demons that are going to try to reopen the Hellmouth
there. Angel doesn't think it can be done, but I'm
meeting him and his latest team of do-gooders there, just in case.
"Angel's alive? You never told me that Angel was alive."
"Well, no. I'm frankly sick of everyone I like
preferring him over me. If I didn't know
it was over between us, I'd have never brought him up." He lit a cigarette; the smoke curling up
between them was soothingly familiar. "So other than your groupie, you seeing anyone? And is that what Spock ruined and got you so
upset?"
The problem with Spike was
that he was so damned perceptive. "I
know you didn't stop here just to find out if my love life is going all
right."
"Well, no. I have another reason for being here. But it's not half so
interesting as hearing what you've been up to."
She tried not to think of
Jim. "I've been good. No impulsive affairs since..."
"Me? Or that last time with Spock?"
She nodded.
"That's good, I
guess." He seemed to read something
in her expression. "Come on, tell Uncle Spike what's really going on?"
She laughed. "If you're my uncle then we have a very
odd relationship."
He didn't reply, just took a
deep drag off the cigarette, clearly waiting for her to spill the beans.
"I've been spending time
with someone. I really like him. He's become a great friend. But..."
"But he doesn't feel the
same way about you?"
"No, he does."
"Are you both stupid
then? Just tell him you want him, that you'll die if you can't have him. Then shag him till all he can think of is
you." He shrugged. "Works like a charm."
"Your world's such a
simple place at times, Spike."
"It is, love. And that's how I like it." He stubbed out his cigarette.
"There are things...other
people"--at his look she started over--"Spock is in the way. I don't think this man will ever let himself
think of me that way. But I seem to be
losing him as a friend too and I don't know how to stop that."
"That's a harder
one. Honesty works most of the
time. Sometimes it's the only thing that
works. Have you tried it?"
She laughed. She was getting relationship tips from a
vampire who'd started dating during the Victorian Age. And he was probably right on target. She was too tired now to think about whether
she'd been honest about how much she needed Jim, she had been so sure--as
usual--that reaching out with her gonads would solve everything. "You said you had something for
me?"
"Oh,
yeah." He dug into his pocket and pulled out an
amulet. "Got this
off a dead watcher." At her
look, he said, "Hey, I didn't kill him.
A werewolf did. I killed the
werewolf. And he was a pretty bloody
focused one, if you want to get technical.
They're usually all grrrr and rip your body
apart. I've never seen one stop to rifle
through someone's belongings before chowing
down."
"Neither have
I." She studied the amulet. It had a light stone that reminded her of
Laura's portal ring. The metal was dull,
but had probably once been silver.
He moved next to her. "And I think the watcher lifted it from
a private collector. I heard rumors of
their being a break-in of the supernatural kind in the vicinity."
"Why give it to
me?"
"Turn it over."
She saw an inscription in
some sort of kanji symbols. "Spike,
I can't read this--is it Chinese?"
"Japanese." He handed her
a slip of paper. "There's a great
sushi shop I go where the owner's daughter's a bit sweet on me. I had her translate." He pointed to one word. "This was what made me think of
you."
"Kirsu" jumped out
at her. She shot Spike a look that she
tried to keep confused rather than suspicious.
"You talk in your sleep,
love. You used to call out names--this
was one of them. I don't know what it
means, but I thought you might."
She stared down at the
translation.
"Look, I have to get
going if I want to reach the meeting place before daylight." He reached for the amulet. "If you don't want this, I can always pawn
it for walking around money."
She closed her fingers over
the amulet. "No. I want it." She shoved it in her pocket next to the stake,
then she leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you, Spike."
"So the name does mean
something to you?"
She nodded.
She didn't tell him that
another name had jumped out at her too.
Nogura.
"And probably best for
you to not talk about it?" she said, letting her expression turn deadly
serious.
"Mum's the
word." Spike reached out, touched
her cheek very gently, then he smiled sadly.
"Sometimes I wish..."
She let him pull her
closer. "I know. I do too.
Life would be a lot simpler if you were still here."
"Simpler
but not real. I'm not your destiny, love. I was just a rest stop along the
way." He smiled. "If you hold with that
whole destiny crap."
She laughed, squeezed him again,
then let him go.
"Have a good trip. Say hello
to Angel for me."
"I will not. You've been known to go for the tall, dark,
and broody type before." He walked
back the way he came, into the interior of the cemetery. He turned around, walking backwards as he
yelled out, "If you ever need me, try Angel Investigations in
"Maybe I'll pop
down," she yelled back.
"Don't you dare. He has a
weakness for slayers. The acorn never
falls very far from the tree, eh?"
He lifted a hand, then turned and strode away.
She watched him disappear
into the night, then walked to the entrance, sticking
her hand in her pocket to hold the amulet.
She had the feeling she'd just been given something lethal. But lethal for whom?
"Is that your
boyfriend?"
She saw Thompson sitting on a
bench just out of sight of where she and Spike had been standing. "Used to be." Her answer was terse. She didn't feel like talking anymore.
"Kind of young for you,
isn't he?"
She could feel her eyes
widen. "Well, that was nasty,
Bob. But given my night,
not unexpected. You could take
lessons from a Vulcan I know, though.
Compared to him, you're strictly an amateur." She started to walk away.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean that." He hurried to catch up with her. "I guess I just wanted to think you were
alone. More like me."
She turned to look at him,
saw that he was looking at her intently, his blue eyes clearer and more focused
than she could remember seeing them. She
blinked and the old Bob was back, the one who could barely meet her eyes.
"It's been a bad night,
Bob. I'm very tired."
"I don't doubt it. You spend all your time at work, or
here. When do you sleep?"
"I don't need much sleep." It was true, but she was keeping hours that
were excessive, even for her. She felt
like she could lie down on the cold pavement and sleep for a year. "But I'm just so tired right now,"
she said again.
"I'm sorry." His voice was very gentle. "Have you ever thought of quitting? This nighttime thing you do? You seem to light up when you talk about
medicine, but this always makes you sad and sort of grumpy."
She laughed bitterly. "I did quit once, Bob. But it didn't last."
"Was it nice? While it lasted, I mean?"
"I don't know
anymore. It wasn't me. I had to hide so much to be that woman who
didn't have the nighttime thing." She smiled, included him in the look.
He smiled back. The
expression lit up his face. She was struck
again by how attractive he could be, if he were altogether different than who he was. And that
was the problem, wasn't it? Sometimes
the change was too much. Sometimes you
just had to be who you were.
"Do you believe in
darkness, Bob?"
"You mean darkness like
evil?"
She nodded. "But inside. You think some people are just darker inside
than others?"
"I'm not sure I've ever
thought about it." He touched her
arm, his fingers just barely landing on her jacket sleeve before he drew them
back. "I think you need sleep. I think you're tired. And you seem sad." He looked down. "I know sad. I'm good at that."
"You need to go home
now, Bob. It's really dangerous out here
right now. Someone is making vampires,
lots of them. Just
random people, as far as I can tell.
If you don't take more care, the next one could be you."
"Would that make you
sad? If it were me?"
She realized she would miss
him in some odd way. "Yes. It would make me sad."
He smiled, a softer smile but
one that still made the gawkiness disappear for a moment. "Thanks, Christine. That's nice of you to say. I'll be okay, I live nearby."
She tried to hand him his
stake.
He waved it away. "You keep it."
She watched him walk down his
street, before forcing her weary feet to head for home.
"Hey
there, Ms. Graduate." Uhura smiled at Christine. "Or is it Doctor Graduate?"
"Doctor," Christine
said distractedly.
Uhura frowned. She'd expected her friend to be more
excited. Maybe it was hard to get keyed
up for graduation when she'd already started her residency? If she'd had to intern, she'd still be on
break like the other graduates.
"I was thinking of a
small party..." She didn't mean to
make the suggestion so tentative but the expression on Christine's face didn't
bode well for a celebration.
"I'm really tired, Ny." Christine walked away, then
turned around. "But I appreciate
the offer."
"Christine." Uhura walked, said softly, "What's the
matter?"
For a moment, she thought
Christine's face was going to crumple, could almost see the force of will that
kept her expression neutral, as she said, "I've got a nasty--maybe the
nastiest--vampire out there who's gunning for Emma. I really can't let go and enjoy a party right
now."
"Okay." Uhura hadn't ever seen Christine nearly cry
over a vampire.
"Ny,
I do appreciate it. Maybe when my
residency's done we can do something?"
"I'll be on the
Christine nodded, her
expression seemed haunted. "I'm thinking
about it."
"Really? That's
great! Why didn't you tell me?"
"It's sort of
sudden. I'm just thinking about it." Christine turned away. "I've got to do rounds. See you tonight?"
"Yeah. See you." Uhura frowned. She turned and headed back to Command. She was about to turn into a side corridor
when she saw Kirk walking toward her.
She waited for him. "Hello,
sir."
Kirk looked even worse than
Christine. What the hell was up with
these two?
"Hello, Nyota." His
smile for her was warm but not as brilliant as usual, like someone had put a
shade over the sun.
"You're going to Chris's
graduation tonight? I'll save you a
seat?"
"I'm not sure that I'll
be able to make it. Nogura's
called a late meeting. I'll just sit in
the back if I come."
He was lying. She didn't know how she knew that, but she
knew it.
"Sir, are you all
right?" She reached out, touched
his arm. In the past, it had often been enough
to provoke a small confidence.
"A friend of mine died
last night." He looked down at her
hand.
She let go of him. "I'm sorry."
He nodded. "I've got to go. Maybe I'll see you tonight."
She blurted out as he passed
her. "Christine's not doing very well, and I don't know what's wrong with
her. Do you?"
He paused for an infinitesimal
moment, but it was enough to tell her she was right. The Kirk she'd watched on the bridge for all
those years did not hesitate.
"She's trying to find Wharton.
She's spending too much time in the cemeteries, and not enough time
sleeping." He turned around. "And she'll keep doing it. Because if she doesn't, her
watcher may die." He
shrugged. "What else do you need to
know, Commander?"
Uhura winced at the use of
her title. She'd pushed him too
far. "Nothing
else, sir."
He turned and strode away.
Something was definitely
going on.
Uhura walked into the
sunlight gardens behind the cafeteria.
She'd never appreciated daylight until she learned what it kept
away. Now she loved it with a fierce
passion. She'd be giving that up for the
A woman walked past her,
dressed in tweed, blinking a bit in the bright sunshine. She looked lost.
Uhura smiled at her. "Can I help you?"
"I'm looking for
Starfleet Medical."
"Well, you found half of
it. This is Starfleet
Command." She walked to the
door. "Come on, I'll walk you
there." Maybe she'd try again with
Christine, now that she was reasonably certain that something had happened with
Kirk.
"Thank you. I seem to make a habit of getting lost in
this city." She had a charming
accent. Like Scotty's,
only softer, more lilting.
"You're from
The woman smiled. "The New Glasgow
mining colony. On
Maritus IV."
Uhura knew of it. It was a heavy gravity world. That certainly explained the woman's
build. "You're here on
business?"
"Yes."
Uhura waited for more to
come, but nothing did. "I mean here
at Starfleet."
"I'm visiting a
friend." As they turned into a
sunlit corridor, a cross around the woman's neck caught the light, bursting
into radiance.
Uhura frowned. She thought she heard the unmistakable clink
of wood against wood.
"Stakes?" she said very quietly.
"What?" The woman stopped dead in her tracks.
"Are those stakes in
your pocket?" Uhura held out her
hand. "I'm Nyota
Uhura. A friend of
Christine's."
The woman smiled in
relief. "I'm Ms. Drake, Em--"
"--Emma. Yes, she's
spoken of you."
Drake rolled her eyes.
"No. Most of it was good." Uhura grinned at her. She pointed ahead. "There's the entrance. Just ask at the front desk for
Christine."
"Thank you. You are going to her graduation?"
Uhura nodded. "I just wish it wasn't at
night."
Drake nodded grimly. "Yes.
So do I."
"Well, I'll see you
tonight."
"Thank you. Perhaps you could save me a seat? In case I get lost again?"
Finally someone who needed
her help. "I'd be happy to."
Before Uhura could turn away,
Drake grabbed her arm. "Is
Christine all right? She came 'round
last night and I was suffering with a headache." At Uhura's look of sympathy, she waved her
off. "Migraines, that's all.
Anyway, I talked to Christine earlier today and she seemed..."
"Not quite herself?" Uhura sighed.
"Or more like her older self?"
"Yes. Quite so."
Uhura almost told her about
Kirk, but some loyalty to both of them stopped her from confiding in someone
who until a few minutes ago had been a complete stranger. "I think she's just tired."
"Yes. Of course that's it. She's been looking for someone."
Uhura could tell Drake was
testing her. Didn't know if she was
supposed to know about Wharton or not, but couldn't see a reason to lie. "Yes, I know." She shrugged.
"She told me why she's so obsessed with patrol. I'm her friend."
Drake suddenly looked rather sad. "And that's good. She needs friends. I don't like to think of her isolated
again."
"No. She won't be.
I won't let her be." Uhura
smiled to take some of the bite out of her words. She'd sounded fierce even to her own
ears. Probably because she wasn't
completely sure she could stop Christine from withdrawing if she really wanted
to.
Drake patted her hand. "I'll see you tonight, Nyota." Then
she turned and walked to the reception desk.
Uhura watched her for a
moment, then turned and made the walk back to Command. Again.
--------------------------
Kirk stood in the back of the
auditorium, behind a pillar where Uhura wouldn't see him. He nodded to the other officers he knew,
trying to stifle the yawns that seemed to be coming nonstop.
He'd gotten no sleep between
trying to discreetly locate Carl's body and then going back to the morgue with
Weasel. At least they'd confirmed that
it had been magic.
"Poison's a good
analogy," Weasel had said, as he'd laid his hand on Carl's forehead. "Someone powerful did this. Very powerful."
"Do you know who?"
"You tell me." Weasel pulled Kirk's hand over, laid it on
Carl's forehead and pulled his own away.
"Tell me what you sense?"
Kirk closed his eyes. An oily blackness seemed to float in front of
him. Black shot through with a sickly yellowish
brown. He described it to Weasel.
"Good. Remember that color. For you, that's the color of something
toxic. For me, it's something
different." He pushed Kirk's hand
down, kept his own over it. "Now go
deeper."
Kirk tried to push the
blackness aside with his mind. He felt a
snapping feeling, like a surge of electrical current, or the slap of rubber
cording. The hair on the back of his
neck began to stand up. He described it
too.
"Yes. That's from the focus. You feel it too. Maybe your witch, maybe some object that was
near your friend? But it doesn't help us
pin down whoever did this."
Kirk shook his head. But then he said, "Wait. There is something else." He held his breath, trying to capture what
seemed like a scent that was forming nowhere near his nose. "Flowers. Fragrant"
"What kind?"
"I don't know. The scent is subtle, it keeps changing."
"What about color?"
"Blue, but I can't pin
it down. Blue though." He got a flash of another color. "No.
White.
Blue or white..." He trailed
off in frustration as he got a flash of yellow.
"Okay, try to remember
the impression not the actual colors and scents. If you're near the person, you might get a
sensation of it again." Weasel
pulled his hand away.
Kirk turned to him. "You're supposed to be a powerful
sorcerer and this is the best we can do?
Some vague scent I can't even identify and an indeterminate shade of
blue or white or maybe yellow?"
"What exactly did you
expect? A photo I.D.?" Weasel smiled. "Whoever did this is good. Covered his or her tracks
perfectly. Or
nearly so. The flower is a
clue. One that may
help you."
"Why didn't you get the
flower?"
Weasel shook his head. "Odds are you've smelled or seen it
before. You just don't remember where or
when."
"Or who I was with when
I did?" Kirk had said.
"Exactly," Weasel
had said as he'd followed Kirk out of the bowels of Starfleet Medical. "The symbols are personal. What works for you will be things you
resonate with, things you've experienced."
Kirk had seen Weasel out and
then gone to the gym and then straight to his office, changing into the uniform
he kept there. He'd had no sleep and
very little to eat. Now all he wanted to
do was sit down. But he was afraid if he
did, he'd fall asleep.
"Admiral?"
He smiled at the soft
brogue. "Emma."
"Come sit with us. Nyota's saved me a
place. I'm sure there's room for you
too."
"I can't."
She didn't reply, just stood
waiting for him to explain why.
He decided to wait her out,
just smiled pleasantly.
She finally sighed. "You've seemed quite fond of Christine
in the past. Why not come down and enjoy
her graduation with the rest of her friends?"
Maybe
because he wasn't her friend anymore? "I'm expecting to be called away. I don't want to make a scene by trying to
leave in the middle of the ceremony. I
can exit much more gracefully from up here."
She stared at him, finally
nodding. But she didn't go away. "How are your classes going?'
"Fine. Thank
you."
Her face tightened. "I will figure out what's going on,
Admiral. With you and
with Christine." She strode away,
irritation evident in her stride.
He exhaled in relief. The woman reminded him of a teacher he'd had
in fourth grade.
He relaxed, found himself
yawning again. He had a few minutes before
the ceremony would begin. He walked out of the room, pacing a bit in the foyer
to keep awake. A group of graduates
filed past, on the way to the staging area.
One lagged behind. Chris.
She turned to him, a helpless
and lost expression on her face. He knew
he was wearing the same expression.
She lifted her hand but when
he didn't respond, let it drop. She
shook her head slightly, turned away.
Once she was out of sight, he
raised his hand.
"Touching."
He whirled.
Lori smiled. "You were so caught up in your precious slayer, you didn't even 'feel' me coming, did
you?" She moved against him, as if she
was an animal leaving her scent on him.
He moved away.
"I'm still waiting for
that meeting with her, you know? Looks
like I'm going to have to set it up for myself since you two are all broken up." She laughed, the
sound sent shivers down his spine. In both good ways and bad.
"Do you really want to
stay for this?" She rubbed against
him again.
He turned to look at her. Her luminous brown eyes seemed to turn black
as she stared at him. He felt his resistance
to her dropping. Why hadn't he been
interested in her? She was
beautiful. So sexy.
She rubbed against him again.
"We could go."
He took the hand she held out, let her pull him toward the doors.
He heard footsteps, turned to
see Chris coming back, walking toward him with a determined stride. She stopped dead when she saw his hand in
Lori's. Her face tightened when Lori
rubbed against him again.
They stood frozen, until Lori
let go of him, walked up to Chris.
"I need to talk to you."
"He told me already. I'm not that interested. Less and less by the
minute, in fact." She turned
a hurt look on Kirk.
Lori looked back at him also. He shrugged.
He wasn't sure which of them he was trying to appease.
"Even
if it's important?" Lori said.
"For more than just us. Many more." She moved her head, stretching her neck as if
she had a cramp. The movement came off as
surprisingly savage.
Suddenly Chris walked
forward, moved in so close she was nearly in Lori's face. The look on Chris's face
one of sudden recognition. "I know
what you are."
Kirk stepped forward, again
not sure which of them he was trying to protect, which to hold back. "She's a witch. Or something."
Christine nodded. "She's more than that, Jim. It's not safe to be around her right
now." She pointed up. "The
moon's full." She pretended to howl
at it.
Lori smiled,
it was a strangely seductive expression.
"We're not all slaves to the moon.
Some of us have learned to control the change. It can make for a very passionate
experience. Maybe you'd like to skip the
ceremony and join us?" She moved
closer to Chris. "I'd like
that."
"I'll pass." Chris turned to Kirk, angrier than he'd seen
her. "Just don't let your dream
girl bite you." She turned on her
heel, and walked away.
"Her
loss." Lori rubbed her hand along his neck and he
felt the hairs stand up. He felt a
snapping sensation, like electric current or rubber tubing. He forced himself not to react, tried to read
her. There was no smell or color--no
flower. Or maybe there was and he
couldn't go that far without Weasel there to guide him?
But she had been involved in
Carl's death. He pulled away from
her. Had he really been going to leave
with her? "What are you?"
"You mean you don't
know?" She shook her head. "Such a babe in the
woods. I think your slayer was
almost tempted by my offer."
"I think you're
wrong." He backed away from
her. "I'm going in. I have a graduation to watch."
"Suit yourself. I'll see you around. Hopefully in a better mood." Her smile was feral.
He didn't turn his back on
her until she was safely out the door.
Then he hurried into the now darkened auditorium, ignoring the glares
from the other latecomers as he pushed past them, deeper into the shadows,
where Chris wouldn't see him.
He left as soon as the
ceremony was done and he'd seen Chris safely graduated. There was a reception, but it would be too
hard seeing her.
It would always be too hard
seeing her.
--------------------
Christine blinked back tears,
determined she would not screw up her makeup and look like a lovesick
fool. If Jim wanted to go off with a
damned werewolf, that was his business.
It had taken every ounce of
control she had not to try to kill Lori.
Well, not every ounce. Some small part of her wouldn't have minded
taking her up on her offer. Pheromones. Like the
woman was in heat. That was the power of
her attraction. And being a witch, or a
sorceress, or whatever it was in vogue to call a woman like her didn't hurt the
allure either.
Christine almost missed her
name being called, was brought to herself by a classmate gently pushing her and
saying softly, "It's your turn."
The rest of the ceremony
passed in a blur. It was over and Uhura
had her in a tight hug. Emma was beaming
approval. Christine let a few tears
fall, but they were to be expected, she didn't have to explain them.
"I saw Admiral
Kirk," Emma said tentatively.
"So did I," Christine said in her most final tone.
Mercifully, both women took
the hint.
"Do you want to grab
some dinner?" Uhura asked finally.
"I'm not very
hungry." She turned to Emma. "I thought I'd patrol. I'll walk you home though."
She turned to Uhura, hugged
her again. "It means a lot that you
came. It means the world." She saw the concern in her friend's eyes and
pulled away quickly. "Why don't you
walk with us?"
Uhura laughed. "Look at this crowd. A lot of them are
skipping the reception, I bet. We'll all
be walking together. We'll be fine. You look really tired. Why don't you go straight home?"
Emma nodded. "We'll be with a crowd. And I have stakes."
"I have to patrol first. Just a few passes." She handed Emma her cap and gown. "Could you take these
back to your place?"
"Of
course, dear. Are you sure you don't want to come back with
me? You really do seem all
in?" Her gaze was penetrating, as
if she knew what was wrong but was waiting for Christine to tell her.
"Just
a short patrol. I'm fine." Christine stood up straight. "Really." She was glad she'd dressed in patrol-worthy
clothes. She needed to escape. And to kill something.
She had two stakes in her jacket. Enough to do plenty of
damage with.
"Christine?"
She turned to see Will Decker
coming up.
Uhura whispered, 'That's our
cue." She winked at Christine as
she hurried Emma out.
"Hello. I hope you didn't come to this for
me?"
He shook his head. "A friend of the family was
graduating. But I thought I'd come over.
Say hello. And pester you about my
offer." He winked at her.
"Oh. Wow."
She felt off balance.
He smiled. An open, easy, no-pressure
smile. "I'm a hard to man to
resist when I want something."
She felt herself relaxing, smiled. "That's a trait they look for in
He laughed. "I'll take that as a compliment, since
you were recommended by the most famous one of all."
She forced herself not to
look away.
"Have you thought about
it?
She laughed. He was charming. And Uhura liked him. And her friends would be there. And there weren't any vampires or werewolves
or witches or--
She realized Decker had asked
her something. She hoped that "Yes,
I accept the offer" was the right answer.
By his smile, she assumed it
was.
"Great. Welcome to the team. I'll be in touch." He gave her one last happy smile and walked
away.
She felt a lump in her
throat. She' be so far from Jim.
She was already miles away
from him, even when she was in the same room.
What she'd just seen had proven that.
How could he? Whatever happened to being revolted by Lori?
"Happy Graduation?"
a quiet voice said behind her.
She turned. Thompson stood looking nervous, something
behind his back.
"Bob?"
"I knew it was your big
day. I wanted to surprise you." He pulled a bouquet of white flowers out,
presented them with what he must have thought was a courtly bow, but looked
more like a wobble to her.
She was still touched. "Thank you."
"Maybe we could go out
and get a drink? To
celebrate?" He saw her look
and held up a hand. "You were about
to hit the cemeteries, weren't you?"
She nodded, touched his hand
to soften the rejection. "You're
cold."
"Yeah, it was freezing
in the back. I could really use some
coffee. How about
you?" He began to walk up
the stairs and she followed him. The
flowers smelled good. Lilies
mainly. Some white roses.
As they walked toward the
door she forgot how to breathe. She was
the only one reflected in the glass.
Thompson grabbed her arm, his
voice was suddenly silky, a dulcet upperclass
British instead of whatever heartland dialect he'd been doing before. He pushed the door open with his foot. "Don't make a scene and no one here will
get hurt."
She tensed. "You're Wharton? All this time? You've been playing with me."
"I like to think of it
as getting to know you."
"Semantics," she
hissed.
Wharton was hustling them
pass the people who were still talking in small groups outside the auditorium,
nodding pleasantly as if nothing was wrong.
"Think about it, Christine.
If I wanted to kill you, how many opportunities have I had in the
past? I came here to watch you
graduate. And to be there for you at the
end of the ceremony, when you walked away all alone, like you always do."
She reached for her
stake.
"Christine. Why are you doing that? Do you believe the stories your watcher told
you? Do you know how many slayers I've
saved from overeager vampires and from cold-hearted watchers?" He put his arm around her waist, pressing her
free hand down against her hip so she could not reach her stake. "Have I given you any reason to be
afraid of me?"
She tensed again.
He guided her down the hill,
toward a grove on the way back to town. "Stop
acting on instinct and use the brain that the watchers would rather you didn't
exercise. How have I ever hurt
you?"
"Not me. But those others. The people you've been putting in my
way."
"I think we've got more
important things to worry about at the moment." He pointed down the path.
Six vampires stood waiting. Old vampires. Not fledglings. These monsters had been around the block a
few times.
The biggest one stepped
forward. "A
Slayer. And her
boyfriend. Out
for a walk. How
romantic."
Wharton shuffled
forward. Once again he was Bob
Thompson. Ungainly. Wimpy.
Deadly, she imagined.
"We don't want any
trouble."
"Well, trouble wants
you," the biggest one said.
The other five laughed.
Wharton's face changed. "With lines like that, you'll give us all
a bad name." He charged into the
group.
It took Christine a moment to
react, then she pulled her stake out and went for the
biggest vampire. Her first blow barely
moved him.
Then she remembered the way
Lori had rubbed against Jim.
Her next kick knocked the
vampire halfway across the grove into the outthrust limb of a tree. He was dust.
Wharton glanced back at
her. "A stake would be nice."
"Sorry. Fresh out."
"Fine." He grabbed the
vampire nearest him, twisted her neck until the head came off. The vampire exploded into dust. "Stake?" he said again, as if to a
slow child. "I bought you hot
chocolate. I don't even like hot
chocolate."
Against her better judgment,
she tossed him her spare stake. It had
been his to begin with, the loaner from the night before. She ignored him, taking on the next biggest
vampire who charged her with a roar. His
punch caught her in the stomach, knocking the wind out of her for a
moment. She slid across the grass,
managed to turn the movement into a controlled roll and was up again as he
reached for her. She slammed the stake home
and he was dust.
Wharton had taken out two
more. They both converged on the last
vampire. The woman looked
frightened. She turned to Wharton. "You're one of us."
He shrugged.
Christine slammed the stake
into her back, too hard. She tried to
pull it out before the vamp exploded, but it was too late. Her stake disappeared along with the vampire.
She turned to face
Wharton. He smiled at her, turned his
stake around and handed it to her.
She took it slowly, expecting
a trick. He moved closer to her, reaching
out and guiding her hand to bring the stake up to his chest. "I'm a vampire. You're a slayer. Slay me."
She pushed, and he closed his
eyes. Waiting.
She pulled the stake
back. "Why? Why this masquerade? Why the games?"
"If I'd walked up and
said, 'Hello, my dear, my name is David Wharton,' would you have invited me to
tea perhaps?" He began to circle
her. "You're all alone. Except for me. No watcher.
No friends. No handsome admiral
stupid enough to leave you. No rather
infamous vampire kissing you."
She turned to look at
him. "That's why you ran from
Spike. He'd have known what you
were."
"In a
second." He grinned; it was an attractive expression
on him. He was very attractive, just as
she'd suspected Bob could be if he were an entirely different person.
"Seeing you with
Spike," he said, coming up behind her.
"It changed things for me."
"I will stake you."
"And then what? Go back to your cold apartment. Report to an even colder ship?" His lips touched down on her neck. "You're unhappy. As unhappy as any slayer I've ever seen."
She shivered at his
touch. "You killed those
people. I know that was you."
"Yes, all right, I
did. To keep you busy. It's true.
But they weren't random. They
weren't innocents. In their own way,
they were more evil than I could ever be.
I just did the world a favor."
"You're not judge, jury,
and executioner."
"But that's exactly what
you get to be. And for
whom? Silver? That pompous ass. You do this for him?"
"Emma's not like
him."
"Oh, but she is. She has you fooled now. She's a master at it. But in the long run, she'll stick with the
watchers. The same way she did that
night when she left you alone here with me." He slowly reached around and took her
stake. "I could have killed you
that night. I didn't."
She wasn't sure what to say,
how to answer.
"You asked me about
darkness. Did I believe some people were
darker inside than others? The answer is
yes. I believe the watchers are. I believe they prey on young girls. And I believe I can stop them." His lips touched her shoulder again, then her
neck.
"I believe we can stop
them. I offer you release,
Christine. No more pain. No more darkness to fight. You'll embrace it and become like me. And together, we'll save the slayers who have
no one to fight for them."
"No," she said, but
made no move to stop him. What was the
point?
"The admiral was a fool
to walk away from you. I could tell he
loved you. And I know that you loved
him. And he just walked away with that
fiend."
She swallowed hard.
"He's probably with her
right now. Touching
her." Wharton's arms went around her. "Kissing her." He moved her hair aside, kissed the back of
her neck. "Tasting
her." He moved closer to her
ear, his teeth resting, pushing enough so she could feel the pressure.
He pulled back. "Let go, Christine. I can make all this pain stop. I'll never hurt you."
She felt his teeth again
touch down. This time it wasn't like
Marcus. This was no spell, no
enchantment or hypnosis. This was just
one broken soul calling to another. She
heard him, something inside of her heard him...and was
responding. "No more pain,"
she whispered, the words a prayer, a supplication.
He bit down, his teeth
puncturing the skin. Pain roared in her
head, then she felt his mouth settle around the wound,
his tongue lapping even as he sucked at her.
She moaned. It hurt. Then she moaned again. It didn't hurt. It felt good.
His arms tightened around her,
the stake still in his hand. It bumped
against her arm.
It felt wonderful. Oblivion, release. Utterly wonderful.
And just
another way of running away.
She grabbed the stake,
stabbed him as best she could in the leg with it.
He released her and roared in
pain. She pulled back, ripping away from
his teeth, then kicking him away from her.
"No. No oblivion.
Not for me." She held her
hand up against her neck trying to stop the bleeding.
Pressure, the doctor in her
said. A rag and
pressure. She ripped her shirt,
wadded it up and held it against the wound.
"If you want to try
again, then go ahead. But I won't be
your willing victim." She held the
stake up even though her hand was trembling badly.
"Christine. I won't hurt you. I want to help you."
"So you said."
He smiled as if he was proud
of her. "But it felt good didn't
it? Like sex, only better?"
"It felt good. But that's not all there is to
life." She backed away from
him. "You leave Emma alone,
David. Just walk away now and I'll never
even tell them you were here."
"I can't walk away. Although I'll let you walk away tonight. But you'll be back."
She shook her head. "If you don't go, it'll be war between
us."
"We'll see. You're really quite remarkable, you know." He blew her a kiss, disappearing into the shadows,
like the phantom he seemed to be.
She started to shake, nearly
falling down in shock. She hadn't lost
that much blood; she'd be fine if she could get the bleeding to stop. If she could get to the hospital.
It was several blocks later
that she realized she was heading for Jim's apartment, not the hospital.
-------------------------------------
Kirk heard a strange sound at
his door, as if someone had bumped into it.
Then the chime went off.
He hurried to it, opened the
door, barely caught Chris as she almost fell into his
apartment.
"Jim? I know we're not...but...I let him bite me
and then I couldn't and I fought him but he left and then..." She pulled her hand from her neck and he saw
that she was bleeding. She started to
cry. "I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't have come."
"It's okay. It's okay,
Chris." He helped her into the
living room.
She suddenly pulled back.
"Is she here? Because
if she is, I don't want to be."
"She's not here. I didn't leave with her. I was there, in the back. Watching you." He smiled softly as he checked the
wounds. "Why did you come here if
you thought she was here?"
"I don't know. Because I need you."
"You also need
blood."
She shook her head. "He didn't take very much. I stopped him."
"Did you know him?"
She nodded, looked
miserable. "I finally found
Wharton."
"And you let him bite
you?"
She started to cry
again. "It's worse. I let him buy me hot chocolate."
He laughed softly. When she sobbed, he stroked her hair
back. "I'm not laughing at
you. You're just not making any
sense." Unless... She had said hot chocolate? "That ensign was Wharton?"
She nodded. "He wanted to turn me. I almost let him."
He walked into his bathroom,
found the medical supplies and brought them out to the living room. As he began to work on the wounds, he said
softly, "You didn't let him. Almost
turned means you weren't turned. It's
like almost dead or almost pregnant."
"I know." She winced when he put the antiseptic on the
bites. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry. You got away."
He finished with the bandage,
then sat down next to her, sighing as he pulled her into his arms. She curled around him, her head on his chest.
"I can't do this without
you, Jim."
He started to reply but her
words came out in a rush, as if she was afraid she'd have no other chance to speak
if she didn't get it out now. "We
can just forget what we said, and how we feel, and just be friends, because I
need that and I think you need that too. And I'm the only one in this whole
damn city that needs you, so you can't walk away from me. Not like this. Because that's what cowards do. Like me when I ran away, or like Spock when
he went off to Gol, but you're not like us. You're not a coward. You don't run. You stay.
Please stay. Be my friend."
"Are you done?"
She nodded solemnly. Then as he started to speak, she said,
"Oh god, I accepted Decker's offer tonight." She began to cry in earnest.
"Chris,
shhh. It's all right. It'll be all right."
"No, I can tell him I
changed my mind. I'll do that right
now. I'll send him a message." She
started to get up.
He pulled her back down
gently. "You'll do no such
thing. This is killing you, don't you
see that? Being the
slayer again. Being
here again. It's killing
you. Putting you right
back where you were. And I'm not
helping." He pulled her close. Kissed her forehead gently, putting thoughts
of all the other places he wanted to kiss out of his mind. "The
He realized she was shivering
violently. "Are you sure I
shouldn't take you to the hospital?"
"No. Please.
I'm just so cold." She
burrowed against him.
He moved her off him gently,
stood up and drew her up after him.
"Come on. At least I won't
have to wake you every two hours this time."
They could sleep in; he was
off tomorrow, from work and lessons with Weasel. It wasn't much, but given how much else he
couldn't have from her, he wasn't going to complain.
"Come on," he said
gently.
She stopped, held onto his
hand and looked at him plaintively.
"I need you, as my friend.
You'll be that?"
He nodded. Self-control, Weasel had said? Well, he thought they were both showing
remarkable amounts.
"Don't leave me,"
she said softly. "Don't push me
away."
He pulled her into the
bedroom. "I won't leave you. I won't push you away."
"You promise?" She took his other hand. Held it tightly. "For the long haul. We'll be there for each other? You promise?"
"I promise." Pulling her hands to his lips, he kissed
them.
He pushed the covers back and
she kicked off her boots, then crawled in. He followed her in, tried to ignore how good
it felt to hold her against him.
How much it hurt to hear her
murmured "I love you, Jim," as she shifted half-asleep against him. She moved closer, her arm snaking around his
chest. In her sleep, she rubbed against
him the same way Lori had. It felt tons
better than when Lori had done it.
"I love you, Chris,"
he said softly, knew it might be the last time he ever said it to her. But he'd give that up just to have her back
in his life. All the things she'd said,
he'd have said them too if he hadn't been so dammed stubborn.
He probably owed that bastard
Wharton a huge debt of gratitude.
But he'd still stake him if
he got the chance. He'd tried to turn
the woman Kirk loved into a vampire. Not
that he could blame the man. But still.
He smiled, knew it was a grim
smile.
She was safe. She was all right. She hadn't been turned.
It was up to him to make sure
she didn't ever again get to the place where she wanted to let go like
that. He had to keep her alive. Alive and well and ready to
escape on the
Even if letting her go would
be the hardest thing he ever had to do.
To keep her safe, to keep her
alive and happy, he'd do it. He'd lied
to Spock for the same reason. Hurt his
best friend. It seemed only fair that he
pay for her happiness, for her release with the same currency.
His heart.
Exhausted beyond memory, he
closed his eyes and fell instantly to sleep.
FIN