Obsidian

Verizon is NOT my friend...

2009-10-10T17:05:27Z

Finally back online after several days of being cut off. Between that, the hot water heater breaking down repeatedly and making showers NOT fun, and various other little annoyances that I won't get into, the past few days have been... Well, not at all enjoyable. (Didn't help my writing much, either. But I'll get to work on that as soon as I can.)

Well...

2009-10-06T06:12:51Z

So, having seen most (I missed one 9-10 minute chunk of it) of the pilot of Stargate: ~~Voyager~~ ~~Infinity~~ Universe, I think I can safely say... I wasn't exactly blown away. (And I'm hoping that bit I missed didn't have some important part that would have explained everything.) To be fair, it is hard to make anything Stargate-related new and different, yet still be the same enough that the fans will still watch it. And the show does have promise. But it just needed... more. More what, I'm not sure I can say, but there was definitely something missing. But hell, the first episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation - the first season, even - wasn't exactly the best ever. And the pilot for DS9? Judging by that alone, you'd never have been able to guess the way the rest of the series turned out.

So for now, I can only hope it gets better the more time they have to develop characters. I can afford to give it that time. Not like it's costing me anything - or that I don't have things to do in the meantime to keep me busy. ;)

Cherry Blossom: Revisited Chapter 6 - (09/25/2009)

2009-09-25T08:48:08Z

Stayed up late, just to get this finished for you. :)

Title: Cherry Blossom: Revisited (chapter 6/?)

Author: That'd be me. *grins* Andrew, Obsidian, call me what you want. But only if it's nice. ;)

Rating: R. And not for the usual reason, either. ;)

Comments: Right, then, where were we?

Legal Disclaimer: I do not own 'D.E.B.S.', Angela Robinson does. Though if I had my way, there would have been a sequel or two by now. ;)

Splinted or not, walking with a broken ankle hurt.

Amy was gritting her teeth tightly enough by the time they reached a door that she was halfway worried that she might end up chipping the enamel by the time they got to the lab.

Getting past the hole she'd fallen in earlier had been a challenge, but fortunately there had been a small ledge on either side that just barely supported their weight. Still, though, it had been a fairly nerve-wracking experience, and she'd been all but convinced she was going to fall any second as she slowly and painfully made her way to join Lucy. Somehow, though, she'd made it.

Really, Lucy's presence was something of a godsend. She was attentive, solicitous, and didn't seem to care one whit that she was a DEB. She was also fairly strong - she had to be, given the way she was pretty much hauling Amy down the tunnel - competent, and intelligent. If it weren't for the whole 'zombie-infested island' thing, Amy was sure that Lucy was someone she could spend hours talking to, on a wide variety of subjects, and never get bored.

That Lucy was evidently attracted to her was something that she'd been more or less glossing over entirely. She wasn't ready to figure out how she felt about that just yet, not so soon after Bobby had...

But Lucy understood. Amy might catch the occasional lingering glance, but she was restraining herself from any overt flirting, and not mentioning her earlier tentative advances.

And neither of them said a word about the way that Amy had reacted to her prior flirting. That, frankly, was somewhere that Amy was just not prepared to go.

Amy leaned gratefully against the wall, giving her screaming ankle a rest. "So, how are we getting through that?" she asked, gesturing to the steel door blocking their path. It was impossible to tell for sure, but it certainly looked like a thick one. The amount of explosives it would take to blast through that - had either of them actually had any explosives on them - would almost definitely bring the tunnel crashing down on them.

"Give me a couple of minutes," Lucy replied, pulling something out of a pocket. Grumbling something about wishing she had her bag with her - Amy could relate - she stuck what looked like a blank key card in the reader on the right side of the door. It took Amy a couple of painful hops closer to see that the card was attached via a cable composed of several wires whose dark blue coatings were fused together to a hand-held device of some kind. The device hummed, occasionally interspersed with a series of beeps. This went on for a while, and Lucy frowned. "Should have been open by now," she muttered. "Guess he improved his security since we last crossed paths." There was a louder beep, followed by a click, and her frown became a grin. "Just not enough," she finished, pulling the door open.

Cool air conditioning washed over them, almost shockingly cold after the hot and humid atmosphere of the island. Amy leaned into it, overbalancing, and Lucy had to catch her before she fell. "Oh, that feels nice," Amy murmured as Lucy helped her inside, then shut the door behind them. In theory, that meant they were safe. Or safer, at any rate. But given that the virus had to start somewhere... Amy wasn't going to start relaxing just yet. "I hope the others have an easier time getting in then we did."

"I'm sure they will," Lucy assured her. "Safety in numbers and all that, right?"

**********************************************
"Dom! On your left!" Max hollered above the sound of gunfire, which was almost drowned out by God only knew how many hungry moans.

It seemed that they'd found the main cluster of the infected. Or was it a flock? Herd? Pod?

Oh, think about it later, Brewer!

Dominique spun in the indicated direction, taking down one zombie who'd gotten a bit too close for her comfort. They were being forced to take a somewhat roundabout route to the lab, trying to lose their pursuers along the way. Diane had said that was fairly useless, as the zombies didn't slow, didn't stop, didn't rest. They just kept coming and coming.

It wasn't that Max had doubted her before, but now she was even more convinced.

They kept it up, though, because the zombies were so slow. The more distance they put between them and the infected, the better their chances of getting inside Black Dragon's base.

Max was also uncomfortably aware that they were starting to run low on ammo. She'd started out in better shape then the others, but after having to hand out a couple of magazines to Dominique and Gordon, even she was going to be in serious trouble soon. She was painfully aware that every shot they fired brought them that much closer to being unable to prevent a painful death... or worse.

Diane had muttered something earlier about eating her gun before she let them do that to her, and though she refused to let herself think that way, Max privately agreed.

"I think we're losing them," Janet gasped. As sick as she was getting, she hadn't been able to run to keep up with them, let alone fire her gun with any kind of accuracy. So as much as she hated to do it, Max had given Diane the gun, while trusting Janet's safety to the newcomer she called Scud. She did recognize the name, of course.

Lucy fucking Diamond's right hand man.

That was the part that made no sense. Why would Diamond care about stopping Black Dragon, even before she knew what he'd been up to out here. Likely there was some kind of private feud between them - the Reynolds family had been well known for such feuds and rivalries in the past, which was the reason that Lucy was the last one left - and she didn't actually care about keeping him from harming any innocents, but at this point, Max would take all the help she could get. Even from Lucy Diamond.

Still, she would be relieved when Amy wasn't stuck with Diamond, alone. She knew Amy could take care of herself against most foes, but against Lucy Diamond? And with a broken ankle, as well?

A quick look back showed her that Scud had given up trying to help Janet run, and had just picked her up, piggy-back style. It couldn't have been easy to run full out the way they were doing like that, but he wasn't saying a word. In her books, that earned him an amount of grudging respect.

Very grudging.

Max switched her handgun for the shotgun she had in her shoulder harness, using its stopping power to get rid of their last few, stubborn pursuers. They kept up their evasive course for several more minutes, then paused for a quick break to catch their breath.

"Are we almost to the entrance?" Gordon asked Diane, who was watching the surrounding foliage with a paranoid alertness.

It took a few seconds for the question to sink in. "Wha-? Oh. Yeah, we're getting there. There are a few entrances, but I think our best bet would be the one about five hundred feet to the west. That's closest."

Well, at least someone had been able to keep track of where they'd been going. "How far under the island do those tunnels stretch?"

"They go a ways," Diane agreed. "But fortunately, they all head towards the lab."

"Let's hope they all have working security doors, then," Janet grumbled.

A chill show down Max's spine at the thought of the lab being invaded by those... things, but she forced it away. "All right, let's get-"

She was cut off by a sudden outburst in French. She knew just enough of the language that, between that and the tone, she knew exclamations like that were what the phrase 'pardon my French' had been invented for. She shot a look at Dom, who was in turn looking farther up one of the trails.

There was a monkey there.

While this was the first animal they'd seen since arriving on the island, she wasn't quite sure what Dom was so worked up about. It was joined by several more monkeys, then even more, until there were several dozen of them just... standing there. Admittedly, that was weird, but then, they must have seemed rather strange to the monkeys themselves. Did the simians know that they weren't infected, and had come to them for protection, or some such thing? "Well," she began, "that's-"

"Look at zem!" Dominique insisted, aiming her gun at the small monkey horde.

Max frowned at her, but obediently shifted her gaze to the primate pack. They looked thin and mangy, the poor things. Running and hiding from the zombies must have been keeping them too busy to find any food. And...

She froze.

And their eyes were covered in a white, milky film that left her wondering if they could actually see them at all.

"Zombie monkeys? Are you fucking kidding me?" she demanded.

"Let's just back away from them nice and slow," Scud opined, shifting Janet on his back as he prepared to do just that.

As one, the monkeys all shifted their gazes to him, attention obviously captured by the movement, and they started forward.

Quickly.

"Fuck that! Run!" Max countered, and they immediately leaped to obey.

"'ow are zese ones able to run?" Dominique asked, firing over her shoulder and sending one monkey crashing to the ground. She didn't hang around to see it she'd killed it or not.

"How are they infected at all?" Gordon added. "You'd think that if a zombie actually managed to somehow catch one of them, there wouldn't be enough left to be infected."

"Not an accident!" Diane gasped out as she ran. "They were... infected first. Some... escaped into... the wild."

"Where they were fast enough to infect any natives that had been left in the village," Max guessed. She'd known this guy was a sick asshole, but she hadn't known how sick. "What happened to Black Dragon himself?"

"I don't know. I didn't see him... Had to get away... Haven't been back since."

"Great." A few shotgun blasts thinned out the pack following them, but not enough. She knew she still had two anti-personnel fragmentation grenades and one anti-personnel concussion grenade. They couldn't exactly stop and duck for cover, so the frag grenades were out for now. So she grabbed the concussion grenade, armed it, and tossed it behind her. "Fire in the hole!"

The shockwave sent them all to the ground, but they were able to scramble to their feet and get moving again without much struggle. Their pursuers, having much less body mass, had been hit harder, and scattered every which way, except in their direction.

"You have grenades?!" Janet asked, having to yell to even hear herself over the ringing in her ears. Her throat and lungs did not appreciate it, and she needed to take another hit from her inhaler.

"Just that and two frags!" Max shouted back.

"Let's hope we don't need them!" Gordon yelled.

Yeah. Wouldn't that be nice?

**********************************************
The creepiest thing was that aside from being deserted, the base seemed perfectly normal.

Well, normal as far as super-villain island headquarters buried inside volcanoes went, anyway.

"So far, this place looks rather similar to his base in Jakarta," Lucy said as she helped Amy down a corridor. Metal and cement made a nice change of pace from rock, rock, and more rock, but its otherwise spartan nature just screamed out for an interior decorator.

"What base in Jakarta?" Amy asked curiously.

"You guys never heard about that one? Huh. Not a huge surprise, I guess, given how the Indonesian government wanted to keep that whole mess under wraps. Just as well for me, since that was how I got out of there unchallenged."

"Do I wanna know?"

"It's nothing relevant to our current situation," Lucy assured her. "This was back when he still didn't seem to know quite what he was doing."

"As opposed to now, with his base being overrun by zombie hordes," Amy said wryly.

Lucy snorted. "Point taken. But still, that means I have a pretty good idea where the infirmary is. Hell, it's probably bigger and more important here, given the nature of his work."

Amy shook her head. "Command center first, then infirmary."

"No way. We're pushing our luck in regards to your ankle like this as it is. We need to get you off your feet as soon as possible."

"And have you running around the base with no one to watch your back? Like hell!"

Lucy looked somewhere between exasperated and touched. "Why don't you call your friends, see how close they are?"

"Yeah," Amy agreed, trying to hide how tired she was getting. She'd been operating mostly on adrenaline ever since the cave, and it was starting to ebb. Between that, all the exertions she'd been undertaking, and the depression about Bobby that she'd been doing her best to ignore, she was about ready to collapse. She just... didn't have time for that. "That, ah... That sounds like a plan." She keyed open the comm channel. "Max, come in." A pause. "Max? Can you hear me?"

There was a loud burst of static, followed by a garbled voice. "Just barely. I don't know wh-... ...-unnels are lined with, but they're... up... comms even w-... then they already... -cording to Diane, we're ab-... -en minutes fr-... -ou. Copy?"

"Barely. Did you say ten minutes?"

"...opy that."

"Good." She paused. "We'll meet you in the infirmary. Diane should know how to find it."

"See y... -hen."

"What made you change your mind?" Lucy wondered as she lead Amy down the hall, taking the first left they came across.

"Ten minutes isn't really enough time to find and secure the control room, especially when we have to take our time to make sure there aren't any... surprises, along the way," Amy told her. "Besides, I want to be there to meet Janet, and that's the first place they'll take her." Yes, she also wanted to lie down, but her condition didn't enter into her line of thought even once.

"Fair enough." And given that it took them over four minutes to reach the infirmary - and that, Lucy told her, was actually on the same level they were, unlike the control room - Amy doubted they could have even gotten to the control room in the time allotted, let alone secured it, found out what had happened, and then gone down to meet their friends.

Because she was slowing them down.

She could tell, though, that Lucy wasn't about to listen to any ideas about leaving her and going off on her own. Which... was kind of nice, actually.

Amy didn't quite moan with relief once she was off her feet, but it was close. Not that this made her ankle feel better, so much as marginally less painful.

Even more helpful was the painkiller that Lucy found for her. Somehow, she wasn't surprised that Lucy knew enough to prepare a syringe and inject her with it on the first try. "I wouldn't begin to know how go about making a cast for you," Lucy told her with a smile, "but I think I can scrounge up a better splint then that."

"I wasn't going to say anything..."

Lucy chuckled and began looking around the cabinets. And while it did bear an uncanny resemblance to the infirmary of a military base - meaning he'd probably just stolen the design, rather then come up with it on his own, which didn't surprise Amy in the slightest - it was obvious that this was not where Black Dragon had been doing his viral research.

Which, quite frankly, was just fine by her.

"You know your way around an infirmary," she commented as she watched Lucy bustle about.

"We do have a doctor or two on staff, but sometimes it's just me and Scud, and we're not anywhere near any medical help. Needs must and all that."

That was a phrase that Amy was all too familiar with. "You two are pretty close, then?"

"He's my brother in everything except genetics."

Amy smiled. "Who says you can't choose your family?" Certainly not her. Not with her team.

Lucy paused in her search and smiled back at her, and for a long moment they just looked at each other. Unlike before, Amy didn't feel any need to blush. It was a weird moment, to be sure, but she didn't feel at all uncomfortable.

Well, not until she accidentally moved her ankle, and shifted in discomfort, feeling it even through the painkiller.

"Right... splint," Lucy said, sounding almost embarrassed.

"Since I've got you here..." Amy began, then hesitated.

"Since you've got me here..." Lucy echoed.

"Can I... Would you mind if I asked you a few questions?"

"Can't guarantee I'll answer, but you can always ask."

Amy supposed that was the best she could have expected. "What's up with Australia?"

Lucy paused, then replied, "I don't like their attitude."

Amy sighed. "Lucy..."

"Well, I don't," she defended. "The rest of that answer is a bit too personal to get into until I get to know you better."

"Fair enough." Not like she'd really expected an answer, but how could she not ask when the opportunity presented itself?

"My turn to ask something now?"

Amy blinked. "We're taking turns?"

"Ah ha!" Lucy exclaimed into a cabinet, momentarily ignoring her question. She pulled something out and held it up. "We have achieved air splint!"

"Whatever works, right?"

"Right." Lucy walked over to her bed, setting it down near her feet and gingerly reaching out for the emergency splint she'd applied in the field. "Hold still," she said as she began to take it off.

"Believe me, I'll do my best."

"Good. And why shouldn't I get to ask you questions in return? Fair is fair, right?"

"...I guess so."

Lucy chuckled as she very carefully unwound the shirt she'd wrapped around Amy's ankle. "Oh, relax. It's not like I'm going to be asking you for classified material or anything."

"What do you want to know, then?"

"I want to know about you. Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

Deciding that was a safe enough topic, Amy replied, "Two sisters. Both younger. Claudia's fifteen, and Natalie's twelve."

"If they look anything like you, they must be adorable."

Amy blushed, then paled as Lucy finished removing the old splint and began taking off her shoe and sock.

Lucy noticed. "Sorry."

"Just... get it done," Amy told her. "Can I ask about you and Black Dragon?"

Lucy hesitated. "Well, I suppose in a situation like this, that's a fair question. Just... keep it to yourself, okay?"

"All right," Amy replied, not even needing to think about it. She told herself it was just because she wanted to know that badly, but she knew that she really just didn't want to hurt Lucy, especially after everything she'd done for her.

"First of all... You need to understand, he didn't... start out as a world conquering supervillain. He started as just some random schmuck, a henchman. One of those anonymous goons you DEBS beat up all the time. This particular goon, however, was... working for the Schaffers."

"...oh."

"He killed two of my uncles, and... Well, we never did find my sister's body."

Amy blinked. "I'm sorry. I didn't even know you had a sister."

"Nobody does. And I'd prefer it stay that way."

"I won't say anything, I told you that," Amy promised.

"Okay." She paused. "Well, that's how it started. Things just... escalated from there." She readied the air splint. It was basically just a clear inflatable cylinder that could be closed at either end and became rigid when filled with air under pressure. Fortunately, a motorized pump had been included. Amy gritted her teeth and lifted her leg so that Lucy could slip it on, then inhaled sharply when it began inflating. "Sorry."

"It's... your turn," Amy forced out.

Lucy waited until the splint was fully inflated and the pump detached, carefully lowering Amy's foot back to the bed before she spoke again. "Where are you from, originally?"

Amy smiled shakily. "Atlanta, Georgia." She waited until the waves of pain in her ankle subsided somewhat before speaking further. "The suburbs, actually. About ten minutes from the city. I love it there, but L.A. is nice, too." She paused as she thought of her next question. "Have you ever thought about... Well, going straight?" Her cheeks darkened a bit. "Um, figuratively speaking?"

Lucy nearly laughed aloud. "God, you are so adorable!" she said instead with a wide grin. Amy's blush darkened. "And... yeah, on occasion. Usually after a job goes way south. Sometimes I consider just retiring, moving somewhere tropical, and renting boats to tourists."

"Boats?"

"Hey, I didn't want to be a criminal growing up. I wanted to be a pirate."

"Umm... Pirates are criminals," Amy pointed out.

"Oh. Whoops."

Amy giggled.

Lucy smiled, as if that had been one of the more beautiful sounds she'd ever heard. "What about you? You like being a DEB? And how does your family feel?"

"Well, at the moment, I'm not loving it as much as usual," Amy confessed dryly. She and Lucy shared a smile. "Ordinarily, though, it's great. I'm doing something meaningful, something that helps people, that makes a difference. I may not make the world that much safer, but every little bit helps. My family..." She sighed. "Well, my sisters think my job is 'just SOOO effing cool'. My mother worries about me constantly, which means we tend to fight any time I visit, or talk to her on the phone. My father... Well, he's retired Air Force, so he understand what it's like, at least somewhat."

"At least most of your family's supportive, right?" Lucy consoled, moving up to the head of the bed. Amy pushed herself into a sitting position, and Lucy reflexively steadied her until she was stable. Even after she was balanced, Amy didn't shoo her back.

"Yeah, I know. I just wish..." She shook her head. "Lucy Diamond. I get that you like diamonds, but why leave them at the scenes of your crimes? Yeah, I know, it's a calling card," she said, holding up a hand before Lucy could reply. "But why choose one that's so easy to imitate? Don't you realize how easily someone could frame you for something?"

"Oh, I keep a close track of any such potential copycats," Lucy told her. "If I ever find one, I either make sure they're turned over to the authorities, or I take care of it myself. Make one or two examples out of people, and everyone gets that it's not worth the risk to try that sort of thing."

Well, it wasn't that she'd forgotten that Lucy was a ruthless criminal or anything. She'd just had other, more important things to worry about. Still, though... That was one subject she didn't think she'd ever want to ask for further details about. "That's... good, I guess?"

Lucy shrugged. "Honestly, it doesn't really come up all that often. The family reputation scares them away a lot of the time before I personally enter into it. Besides, the governments of the world know that, while I'm not about to walk into their offices and confess to whatever, if I deny committing a crime, that's because I didn't do it. And I have my ways of getting through to them."

"Good to know." And it was, really.

"So tell me..." Lucy's smile turned sly. "Have you ever kissed another woman?"

Amy hesitated. "Once." She paused. "I think."

Lucy's eyebrows rose. "You think?"

Amy winced. "I was really, really drunk at the time. I have this dim memory of dancing with some redhead, smooth lips, and... I think her hands kept wandering down to my ass. But I don't really remember what happened, and I never could find her again, so..." She shrugged. Part of her wondered if that shot Lucy had given her before was making her a bit more talkative then usual, especially considering she'd only just met Lucy, who, she reminded herself, was a criminal.

That she had to keep reminding herself of that - and that it mattered, and not in a good way - was probably not a good sign.

She just felt so comfortable with Lucy! She'd known the woman for maybe half an hour or so, and already it felt like they'd been best friends for years. "What's it like?" she asked, as if to further prove her point to herself. "Kissing another woman, I mean. When you can actually remember it."

Lucy nearly grinned. How often was one handed a line like that? "Well, I'm probably a bit biased, but... It's so much better. Everything about it is better. Smoother lips, smoother cheeks, no annoying facial hair, and..." She hesitated. "Well... honestly, it would be easier to show you then to tell you."

Amy swallowed. "Oh. Um..."

Lucy leaned down, one hand resting on the back of Amy's neck. Amy could feel her heart going a mile a minute, but stayed where she was, her eyes beginning to flutter closed in pure reflex. Lucy slowly edged closer, until Amy could feel the other woman's breath against her lips. She felt lightheaded. She...

She nearly levitated off the bed when the infirmary door suddenly opened, and Lucy jerked back as well, startled. Scud entered, Janet on his back, and the others followed him in.

And despite her concern for Scud and Diane, as well as the visibly sick DEB, she had to fight down a grin at Amy's whispered, "Sonuvabitch!"

Well, like I said, this probably won't be a long one. But they don't all have to be. Anyway, hope you're still enjoying this!

Prometheus Unbound - ch. 3 (09/03/09)

2009-09-04T03:12:56Z

Another update, this time on a possibly more popular story. And the plot finally starts showing up, too! ^_^

Title: Prometheus Unbound (3/28)

Author: That'd be me. *grins* Andrew, Obsidian, call me what you want. But only if it's nice. ;)

Rating: R (C'mon, it's a sequel to Pantheon. What did you expect? ;) )

Comments: At long last, it's finally here. ^_^ Hopefully you'll like this one as much as you did Pantheon, if not more so. Now, there is going to be a third fandom included this time around, but, as before, I'm not telling you what it is, yet. You'll find out soon enough, don't worry.

Legal Disclaimer: I do not own 'D.E.B.S.', as I am not Angela Robinson. I also don't own 'The Pretender' (which was created by Steven Long Mitchell and Craig W. Van Sickle). Nor do I own , as I am not, nor do I work for, Universal Studios. (Yes, an actual clue! *lol*)

Chapter Three

It was amazing how much simply resuming a normal sleep schedule improved her mood.

Raquel had perked up enough to actually whip up a full breakfast for her team on their first day of classes, as something of a peace offering. Bethany, true to her word, had been refraining from going out to get drunk and partying. Not to say that she didn't see any other guys, but at least now she wasn't waking anyone up doing it, which was about the best anyone could ask of her.

Things still weren't quite back to normal, though. Denied her usual method of coping with the negative feelings roiling through her body, Bethany was at times tense and irritable. Monica tended to try and make her feel better, unwittingly presenting herself as a target of convenience. Quite naturally, Kathleen did not appreciate this, and Raquel learned to step in quickly to cut off any arguments before they got too serious - or loud.

That didn't happen too often, thank goodness. Fortunately, their classes were providing an excellent distraction from personal problems. And the one time Bethany had looked like she was going to fall back into old habits, all Raquel had needed to do was hold up an electric razor and switch it on for a few seconds before Bethany had taken the hint.

So, all in all, she supposed things were about as good as they were likely to get, unless Bethany actually went to counseling like she should have. And the sound dampener had even been installed around Monica and Kathleen's room, allowing everyone else to sleep peacefully through the night.

She just wished - uselessly - that she didn't have to do so alone. Her bed had felt so lonely, lately.

If by lately, one meant three months.

She simply didn't understand how someone she'd known for a matter of days could affect her so, and hadn't really had much time to think about it.

Nor did she now. Between playing peacemaker among her teammates and making sure they all got to class on time, she felt like she'd been transported back in time to grade school. It was rather distracting.

By Thursday, she was already getting irritated by it. The only consolation was that she wasn't acting in place of people who should have been doing all that. This time it really was her job. Sort of.

"So, today's our first 'Capes and Capers' class," Kathleen said as she took a bite of her waffles and tried not to grimace. Bethany had taken a wild stab at making waffles from scratch, and they hadn't come out quite right. (Those at the table with actual culinary experience suspected she'd accidentally forgotten to include an ingredient or two, but refrained from embarrassing her by openly pointing it out.) Butter and syrup had been applied rather liberally by all. "I have to admit, I'm excited. This is supposed to be a great class."

"And hey," Bethany added with a smile, "if we get stuck trying to figure something out, we have a criminal mastermind of our own we can ask."

"If she's around at the time," Monica pointed out.

Irritation flickered over Bethany's face. "Yes, obviously if she's around."

"Given that most assignments aren't due for a week or two, chances are that she will be at some point," Raquel interjected without looking at either of them.

Bethany noticed, and made an effort to calm down before she could get too worked up. "This sort of thing must be all kinds of nostalgic for you, huh?" she asked Raquel sympathetically.

"I am the eldest of five," Raquel agreed with a tired smile. "I've had to settle my share of disagreements." More then her share, really.

Much, much more.

"Why do I keep thinking you only have three siblings?" Kathleen wondered aloud.

Raquel sighed. "I don't talk about Lee - Carolyna - all that much," she admitted.

"She's the second eldest of you, right?" Bethany asked hesitantly. After rooming with Raquel for years, she knew more then the others about the mysterious sibling, but even that didn't amount to much.

"Yeah. Only about nine months, give or take a few days. She was a grade below me in school. We were... really close, growing up. She did try to help me out with the others when she could, but... Well, she had some... disagreements, with our parents. More so with out father."

"That seems to happen a lot in your house," Monica observed.

Raquel smiled mirthlessly. "You could say. Anyway, she wanted to be a singer. Papi did not approve. They argued about it. A lot. She settled things by leaving home and pursuing a career on her own. That was three years ago, and we haven't heard anything from her since. Of course, Papi wasn't happy when she left, and guess who bore the brunt of that?"

"Your sister hasn't gotten in touch with you in three years?" Bethany asked, incredulous. "I may be the only one here without any brothers or sisters, and even I know that's just not cool."

"Is she okay?" Monica asked, concerned. "I mean, if you haven't heard anything about her in three years..."

"I didn't say we hadn't heard anything about her," Raquel corrected. "I just she hadn't called. Or written. Or emailed. Or acknowledged the existence of her family in any noticeable way." She rose from the table and headed into the living room, then up the stairs. Her teammates sat there in confusion for several long moments before she returned, carrying a CD case that she tossed to Monica before sitting back down.

Monica looked at it. "Dawn Triunfar. I remember her from American Idol a few years back. Didn't think you liked her much."

"And now you know why."

Even with that, it still took a few seconds for Monica to get it. "Wait. W-wait. Are you saying she's your sister?!"

"I can only assume that her chosen last name is to rub it in to Papi. 'Triunfar' translates as 'to triumph over'."

Nobody knew quite what to say to that. "Um... damn," Kathleen finally managed.

"Yeah. Now hurry up and eat your breakfast, so we can get to class on time," Raquel said, clearly finished with the conversation.

No one argued.

**********************************************
The Oceanside Wellness Center in southern Oregon was actually located about twenty-three miles away from the coast. It was also far away from any houses or stores, built in a wooded area that, for some reason, no one else wanted to expand into.

For some odd reason, no one really wanted to be next door to the thinly disguised mental hospital.

That was just fine with the staff. As far as they were concerned, it meant fewer distractions for their patients. Not that said patients were allowed outside without plenty of supervision - including one or two armed guards - but the less the healing atmosphere of the place was compromised, the better they liked it. Sure, this meant a longer drive to and from work each day, but they could afford it.

What most of the inhabitants of the nearby town didn't know was that the OWC was actually a government run facility, for the care of those who were mentally ill or unstable, while being in possession of extremely sensitive information.

Or, as in the case of one patient in particular, who were simply too dangerous to place anywhere else.

Dr. Leslie Ryan always started the day by checking in on patient #02-154, Samantha Heaton. Samantha - or Sam, as she preferred to be called - was something of a special girl. Committed to their care by the DEBS roughly three months ago, Sam had a fascinating ability - on the rare occasions she was coherent enough to use it - to get inside anyone's head, and figure out what they might be thinking or planning. She'd even accidentally provided a vital clue to the treatment of another patient when she began mimicking him, then stopped and wondered in confusion what needles had to do with anything. After that, the doctors had gone back over his records with a microscope, finding a reference to his being tortured after being captured on a mission two years prior. He'd seemed fine after being rescued, but that had evidently been the beginning of his psychological deterioration.

She was also, they had been told, trained in several different styles of martial arts, and with a variety of weapons. Supposedly, all she needed to do was read a book about something, or study it in detail, and she would be able to do that job or task flawlessly.

For obvious reasons, she hadn't exactly had a chance to demonstrate that ability while in their care.

Dr. Ryan smiled as she opened the door to the girl's room. "Good morning, Sam."

"Good morning." The reply was soft and dreamy, which was about the best they were able to get from her most days.

"How are you feeling today?" Dr. Ryan pressed on, undaunted.

An eloquent shrug.

"Well," Dr. Ryan began, but Sam cut her off.

"Can you hear them?"

She frowned. "Hear who?"

"They've come for me. Want me to go with them." Sam had been focusing on the modeling clay that she'd been working on since she'd woken up an hour ago, but now swung her gaze up to meet Dr. Ryan's. The force of her gaze came as a shock, though the too-wide eyes told her that Sam was firmly in the grip of her own madness.

She fought down a sigh. "Sam, we've talked about this. You know that this 'Centre' isn't going to be-"

She was abruptly cut off as something slammed into her back.

Sam was crazy. That did not, however, mean she was wrong.

Dr. Ryan stared at the blade sticking out of her chest in shock, making a few weak gurgling, gasping sounds before her legs gave way. Someone caught her from behind, gently lowering her to the ground so as to not attract attention. They made sure she was out of sight of anyone who looked in through the door's small window, then turned to Sam.

Sam rose and studied them carefully. "You're not her," she finally said, sounding disappointed. Dr. Ryan, bleeding freely and unable to get any oxygen after the blade had been removed, stared at her, barely registering what was going on.

One of the ones at the door replied, "No. But she wants you to come with us."

Sam considered this. "Okay."

Dr. Ryan continued staring straight ahead long after they were gone. But by then, her lifeless eyes didn't see a single thing.

**********************************************
"We've got a mission," Raquel announced as she collected Monica from her last class of the day, Advanced Cryptography. She'd already told Kathleen and Bethany about it; Monica was her last stop.

"Oh? And what would that be, then?" Monica asked, curious. This would be their first official mission of the year, so she couldn't help but wonder what their superiors had in store for them.

"Do you remember that loser we busted in the wannabe Iron Man suit, middle of last year?" At Monica's nod, she continued, "Well, he's at it again. This time, he's even managed to round up a few flunkies for support."

"They have suits, too?" Monica asked as they walked toward the exit.

"From what I'm told, no," Raquel said as they were joined by Kathleen and Bethany. The former moved to Monica's side instantly.

"Well, this ought to be fun," Bethany remarked brightly.

Raquel felt a flicker of uncertainty as to the wisdom of bringing her along, but dismissed it. She was sure that all they had to do was get back in the swing of things, and everything would get back to normal.

Privately, she just hoped this wasn't a huge mistake.

The loser in question, one Ronald Burke, had decided to rob the Los Angeles branch of the Federal Reserve Bank of San Francisco. It seemed to be a popular target for thieves, especially the more high tech - and, one might say, 'whacked out' - ones. It was also where they'd arrested him last time, so he clearly didn't know how to take a hint.

They'd developed something of a standard procedure for situations like this, which was a sad commentary on how often they sprang up. Bethany made her way up to the roof of the bank, while Kathleen took up a sniper's position on top of the building across the street, and Raquel and Monica took the ground floor. Monica lingered near the door, guarding it, while Raquel made her way inside.

They didn't have quite enough people to cover every possible entrance or exit, but fortunately the local police were on hand in force, and they were taking care of that while one of their officers attempted to negotiate with Burke.

The DEBS had told them that wouldn't work, but they felt it was worth a shot. And since no one would object to the possibility of a bloodless way of ending the situation, there were no objections. And even if it didn't work, it would provide just the distraction Raquel needed.

Burke's thugs could be largely left to the cops. Not that the DEBS would ignore them if they had the chance to round any of them up, but Burke and his overgrown tin can were their main concern, and the reason they'd been called in the first place.

After quietly disabling one of his guards, she whispered into her comm, "I'm in."

"Copy that, Boss," Kathleen's voice responded. Bethany and Monica acknowledged her a second later.

As silently as possible, Raquel crept down the corridor, stopping just short of the main lobby. Very carefully, she peeked around the corner.

And came dangerously close to bursting into outright laughter.

This suit was even more ridiculous then the last. It followed the form of Burke's body, if not all the details. The helmet, however, curved up, then down and back, making it look like someone with a pompadour haircut wearing a baseball cap backwards. A thin visor, tinted opaque, covered his eyes, possibly providing him a Heads-Up Display, though she was doubtful that he was able to pick up anything useful in that suit to actually display on it. A shark's grin had been somewhat sloppily painted over where his mouth would be, and she couldn't look at it without fighting down a giggle. The right arm had a cylinder running down the forearm, ending at the knuckles. His last armor had been equipped with a not terribly impressive laser beam, and she suspected this was where the new and theoretically improved version of it was kept.

"You have to let these people go," a man in a suit said calmly as he stood in front of Burke's suit. Judging by his words, tone, and his ability to refrain from laughter while looking at said suit from that close up, she knew he had to be the police negotiator.

"I must do nothing!" Burke countered in the same melodramatic - and mechanically filtered - voice that she remembered from the previous model. "You will give me all the money in the vault, and clear a path for us to exit. This, I command!"

She tried not to laugh at that. She truly did. She just... didn't quite succeed.

Burke swiveled his head around to face the unexpected noise - a lengthy process, accompanied by the whirr of servomotors, which told her that he hadn't quite worked the bugs out of version 2.0, either. She helped him out by moving where he could see her, and aiming her gun - loaded with armor-piercing bullets - right at him. "You again!"

"Me," she agreed insouciantly. "Have your henchmen put their guns down and hold still so we can start the process of getting you out of that thing." She shook her head. "Knew I should have brought a can opener," she mused.

"You would have me surrender, when it is you who are so badly outnumbered?" He laughed dismissively, only to stop when he noticed his henchmen not joining in.

It wasn't that they were trying to piss off their boss, they were simply too distracted by the red dots that kept appearing all over them.

The cops, Burke discovered, had followed Raquel's lead, sneaking in the back and side doors and taking up positions where they could cover all five of them.

Burke took it well.

"No! No, no, NO, NO!" he shouted petulantly, and Raquel half-expected him to actually stomp his foot in consternation. "You're not taking me in again!" With another whirr, the right arm lifted. "Die!"

Another laugh bubbled up, and she dodged the expected ray blast, barely even needing to try and evade such a telegraphed attack. The crimson beam left a small burn on the wall behind her.

If he had upgraded his weaponry, it wasn't to any noticeable degree.

Still, though, she couldn't just stand there and let him hurt any of the cops who were firing ineffectively at him. She fired back, and the bullet lodged in his armor at the right hip joint, sparks erupting from the impact point. He staggered a little and paused, likely considering how many shots it would take her to hit something vital to the suit. She was considering the same, trying to remember where any weak spots they'd identified on his previous suit after they'd impounded it as evidence. Admittedly, he was sure to have addressed them this time around, but there was only so much he could change as long as the technology remained largely the same.

Burke seemed to come to a decision. He turned toward the main doors, and the roar of miniature jet engines sounded as he launched himself into the air, heading right for them.

"Banshee, he's heading your way!" she called, getting briefly drawn into the disarming of the thugs.

"Copy that!" Monica called, dodging to the side as Burke exploded through the glass doors and maneuvered himself up into the sky. Almost immediately, gunshots rang out, and bullets began smacking into his armor, sending up fresh bursts of sparks. She raised her gun and took aim, but before she could fire, Bethany's voice drew her attention. "We've got this, Banshee, eyes on your own fight!" she snapped, sounding irritated.

Momentarily confused, Monica soon realized that Burke, while clearly not the brightest bulb in the box, wasn't a complete idiot, either. Aware of his suit's lack of response time, he'd stationed a few extra thugs around the outside of the bank. And while the cops were keeping the crowd back, she was still glad they attacked her physically, rather then pulling their own guns. She didn't want anyone to be hit by stray fire. She lost track of the fight above as she ducked a swing, then swept the guy's feet out from under him.

She could still hear her teammates over the comm, though, and she didn't like what she was hearing. "Come on, Webb. I thought you were supposed to be some kind of badass sniper."

"Well, guess I know how you got your codename now, don't I, Rulebreaker?"

"Oh, please. If you weren't so busy keeping an eye on your girlfriend, this would have been over by now."

Kathleen's voice grew heated. "Don't you dare bring her into this!"

"Fine, then. I'll just have to take care of this myself."

The cops hadn't exactly been sitting idle while Monica duked it out with the thugs, and they had been taken into custody swiftly. Thus freed from distractions, Monica was able to observe the battle overhead. The crunch of glass behind her alerted her to Raquel's presence. "Why don't I like the sound of that?" Monica asked.

She quickly got an answer, but not from Raquel. Burke had zeroed in on Bethany and drifted closer to get a better shot. She took him - and everyone else - by surprise when she ran forward and leapt from the edge of the roof, right at him. Unable to get out of the way in the slow-moving suit, Burke could only watch in surprise as she slammed into him, clinging tightly.

"What are you doing?! I don't have a clear shot, now!"

"I told you, I'm taking care of this," Bethany replied, followed by the sound of scrabbling on metal, and Burke ordering her to stop whatever it was she was doing.

"What is going on up there?" Raquel demanded.

"It looks like she's cutting into his exoskeleton with some kind of pocket torch," Kathleen reported.

"It's where the relays are," Bethany added. "Give me a minute, I can shut him down."

Raquel had to reluctantly concede that Bethany's plan - so to speak - might not be totally idiotic, but still...

Burke was spinning about, frantically trying to unseat Bethany. His arms couldn't quite seem to move far enough or fast enough to get a hold of her, however, so she kept working.

And then the suit's laser beam began firing, seemingly at random.

"Is that him or you?" Raquel barked as a cop barely dodged the beam.

"Umm..."

People ducked and dodged every which way, Burke's spinning and tilting resulting in what would have been fairly effective cover fire for an escape, had he been doing it deliberately.

Monica screamed and staggered back, clutching her left arm as she collapsed against the bank's outer wall.

"Monica!" It was a wonder Raquel couldn't hear Kathleen's shout without her comm.

"What was that about not using real names during a mission?"

"You hit Banshee," Raquel snapped.

"It's not like that was deliberate."

There was another scream from somewhere in the scattering crowd of cops, and Raquel's patience reached its limit. She walked forward into the street, picked up a discarded rifle, and stared up at the tiny forms of Bethany and Burke. She sighted through the scope on the rifle, ignoring the beam that scorched the pavement several inches away from her foot. She just needed them to turn a little more...

There! She coolly fired a shell right up into the cylinder that housed the ray beam, which exploded in an altogether satisfying manner.

"Thank you," Bethany told her. "That thing was really annoying."

"Just get down here," Raquel countered, and it wasn't in her happy voice.

"Working on that now." There was a pause, then even without the comms they could hear Burke's over-the-top "NOOOOOOOO!" Bethany chuckled. "And here I didn't think people actually talked like that," she remarked as she gained control of his systems, and began lowering the two of them to the street. Kathleen, seeing the situation was under control, hurried downstairs. They got to ground level at about the same time, Kathleen hurrying to Monica's side, while Bethany climbed down off of the suit, severing a final connection to make sure that Burke wouldn't be pulling any surprise escapes. "He's all yours, boys," she told the cops, heading toward her team.

Raquel intercepted her halfway. "What the hell was that?"

"What was what?" she asked, sounding genuinely confused.

"Arguing with your teammates during a mission? Actually taunting and distracting them? That stunt you pulled was even more reckless then usual, and if you'd aimed a little higher you could have killed Monica!"

"I told you that wasn't intentional," Bethany retorted defensively.

"And you don't even seem to recognize that you did anything wrong!" Raquel shook her head. "You told me you could handle it. You said everything was under control!" She'd returned the rifle to the cops, and currently had her own gun out. It was aimed at the ground, of course, but the way it was quivering in her grasp suggested that was a near thing.

Raquel would never shoot her, Bethany knew that. But she could also tell there was a part that wanted to, badly, and that, more then anything else, was enough to sober her up.

"I think..." she began quietly, then hesitated, working up to admitting what she hated to. Kathleen and Monica had joined them by then. A spot on Monica's left forearm bandaged, but otherwise she seemed all right. Raquel bit back the comment she wanted to make, sensing that Bethany might just finally be ready to open up. "I think I need to talk to Sydney."

"I'm glad you agree," Raquel said levelly. "Because after this, I have no choice but to suspend you from active duty, pending a full review."

Monica's eyes widened. "Are ye sure that's-"

"It is," Bethany said, cutting her off. "And I am so sorry. I swear, I would never meant to hit you - or anyone."

"I know," Monica replied, smiling. It was a bit tight, due to the pain of her injury, but it was warm and real.

"Let's go home," Raquel announced, and Monica headed for the car, Bethany shadowing her every step to make sure she got there all right. Raquel held Kathleen back a bit, until the others were out of earshot. "You know," she began quietly, "while it was much more flagrant on her part, Bethany isn't the only one that deviated from protocol back there."

Kathleen sighed. "I know, I know. I just..."

"You were worried about Monica." Raquel nodded. "I hate to admit it, but she wasn't entirely wrong when she accused you of being distracted by what was happening to Monica down on the street. Was she?"

She winced. "I..."

"I haven't said anything before, because it isn't against any rules for two DEBS to be involved, and you've managed to avoid being distracted by each other to a degree that put your teammates in danger." Mostly, she thought, remembering Japan. "But she was right, you should have been able to disable that thing in a third of the time it took, and he should not have gotten close enough to Bethany for her to pull that stupid stunt of hers off. I'm not going to formally reprimand you, but as you can see, I've got enough to worry about with Bethany. I don't need any other problems. All right?"

"Fair enough," Kathleen answered. And it was, really. She had been distracted by Monica, and she knew it. Although... "I don't want to sound like I'm making excuses, but I was more worried then usual because of, well, how unbalanced Bethany seemed."

"I don't doubt it."

**********************************************
"Amy! There you are!"

Amy had to smile at the enthusiastic greeting. "Janet, it hasn't even been an entire day since you say me last," she said, which did absolutely nothing to head off the bone crushing hug.

Not that she'd really expected it to.

"Yeah, but I barely got to see you then," Janet countered as she let go, allowing Amy to breathe unencumbered again. "Besides, I've been looking for you all day."

"Well, lucky thing you caught me before we headed back home, then," Amy said. Janet, she noted, wasn't smiling. That was never a good sign. "What's wrong?"

"We got a report from the Oceanside Wellness Center this morning," Janet began, and Amy felt a sick lurch in her stomach. "Sam's gone."

"She ran away?" That would be bad, all right, but somehow she doubted she was lucky enough for that to be the case.

She was right. "Someone broke in and extracted her," Janet told her. "Her primary doctor was killed and left in her room. She was stabbed with some kind of blade from behind. It went right through her in a single thrust, breaking one of her ribs in the process."

A blow like that required a fair amount of force behind it, she knew. It wasn't at all subtle, but if done right it could be as quiet as slitting someone's throat.

She'd done both enough times to know.

"Do we have any idea who took her?" An unbalanced pretender in hostile hands... That was very, very bad.

"No more then we do whose behind the thefts," Janet replied, sounding disgusted. "No prints, no sign of forced entry, nothing on the security cameras - and I mean nothing, like they hadn't been on - and none of the other security measures caught anyone where they shouldn't have been."

Amy had gone still at the mention of the thefts, the mysterious Something that had been bothering her for days growing louder and more distracting. "Let me know if that changes," she murmured, wandering off without even saying goodbye.

Even as she went, she was aware of Janet staring after her in confusion.

It didn't take long to meet up with Lucy - the DEBS computer center was only so big, after all - and Lucy only had to take one look at her to know something was wrong. Fortunately, she also knew better then to ask about it where they could be overheard, so she waited until they'd gotten home before asking, "What is it?"

"Someone took Sam." At Lucy's uncomprehending gaze, she added, "Sam Heaton? The pretender recovered in Japan?"

"Oh, right! Her. Why- No, stupid question. How-"

"How did they get her out of there? We don't know. How did they find out about her in the first place? We don't know that, either."

"And...?"

"And... I don't know. Something's just..."

"Ah." Lucy had been right there with her for the past few days while whatever it was in the back of her mind refused to come out into the light where she could get a good look at it. "Maybe if you stop thinking about it, it'll come to you. How about a distraction?"

Standing near the couch, Amy turned to look at her, an eyebrow raised.

Two hours later, they finally finished getting dressed again. "That wasn't exactly the kind of distraction I'd meant," Lucy said. "Not that I'm at all complaining, mind you."

"I should hope not," Amy replied with a smile. "What were you thinking, then?" She could have guessed, using her knowledge of how Lucy thought, but she thought it was more polite to let Lucy tell her herself.

"How 'bout a movie?" Lucy suggested.

"Fine by me," Amy said, shrugging. She stood up, wavered for a second as her blood resumed its usual course, then moved to the entertainment center, opening the cabinet that held their DVDs. Or some of them, at least. "Not really in the mood for a chick flick," she mused as she skimmed over the top two rows. "Definitely don't feel like horror." She paused at one DVD, then withdrew it and held it up for Lucy to see, her eyebrows raised in silent inquiry.

Lucy looked at it, then laughed. "Oh, that one. I think that's Scud's, actually. Remind me later to let him know we've got it."

"Uh-huh," Amy said, not lowering it.

Realizing what she was waiting for, Lucy laughed again. "I can't really explain it, sorry. Not any better then the back of the box can, at any rate. We could watch it and you could see for yourself what it's about."

"Maybe another time," Amy decided, putting it back. While it didn't look like a typical vampire movie, that wasn't quite what she was in the mood for, either.

Although a movie called Jesus Christ Vampire Hunter certainly did sound... interesting.

She blinked at the next few boxes. "You have the Bond series?"

"What, I can't like Bond films?" Lucy defended.

"Well, you do realize that the good guys always win in these, right?" She paused. "You watched them for the women, didn't you?"

"Umm..."

Amy grinned. "Hey, if it helps, you're totally my Bond girl."

Lucy considered that, then laughed. "I suppose I am, aren't I?"

"Exactly." She plucked one DVD from among the others, snorting. "Now, why am I not surprised you have this one?"

Lucy rose and walked over to join her. "Heh. Come on, how could I have resisted?" she asked, gesturing to where the cover proudly proclaimed Diamonds Are Forever. She gave Amy a quick kiss, then headed for the kitchen. "Want some popcorn?"

Silence.

She paused at the door. "Amy?"

There was a quiet thud from the other room, and she rushed back to find that Amy had dropped down to her knees, and was staring down at the DVD case, not looking like she was actually seeing it. She'd gone sheet white, and the plastic case was actually shaking in her hands.

She was crouched down by her girlfriend's side in an instant. "Amy, what is it?"

"Oh, God..." The words were barely above a whisper.

"Amy!"

Amy started, but shook herself back to reality enough to answer. "I, ah... I know what they're building."

"What who is... Oh." The thefts. She looked down at the box, skimming over the brief description of the movie.

Stopping at the words 'deadly laser satellite'. "That?"

"Prometheus," Amy whispered.

"What are you talking about?"

"It's... not really a laser. Not exactly. It takes the power of the sun and... and focuses it into a coherent beam, that..."

"I get the idea." Lucy grimaced. "How do you know that's what they're making?"

"I recognize the parts needed."

Not sure she wanted to know, Lucy none the less asked, "Um, how?"

Amy looked sick. "Because I designed it."

Well, it wasn't quite as late as the last story I updated, right?

Navi Rawat as Samantha "Sam" Heaton

Next time - Centre-flashbacks, and Amy visits Miss Parker in jail.

The most overdue update EVER!

2009-08-25T09:25:03Z

Why do I say that? Because this story hasn't been updated since July 23rd, 2008. Yes, I'm serious.

But fear not, good readers! For I have not forgotten it (even if some of you have *lol*).

And this is another instance when I think links to the previous parts are necessary, so:

Chapter 1
Chapter 2 part A
Chapter 2 part B
Chapter 2 part C

Title: Parallax (part 3/?)

Author: That'd be me. *grins* Andrew, Obsidian, call me what you want. But only if it's nice. ;)

Rating: R. The girls are already more then earning that 'R' rating. *sniffs* I'm just so proud... ;)

Comments: Well, here's hoping my second crossover D.E.B.S. fic will be as good as my first one. ^_^ This is a continuation of the Christmas Wishes series of short 'She's The Man' stories I've written, but you don't really need to have read those to understand this. This is also going to be the first actual sequel to 'D.E.B.S.' that I've written, as opposed to an AU fic. (Well, I guess all fic, by its very nature, is AU, but you know what I mean. *winks*)

I realize this may not be the most popular of my current active stories, but since it has been over a year since it was last updated... Well, obviously that just won't do.

Legal Disclaimer: I do not own 'D.E.B.S.', as I am most definitely NOT Angela Robinson. Likewise, I also do not own 'She's The Man', which belongs to... Well, it was written by Ewan Leslie, Karen McCullah Lutz and Kirsten Smith, directed by Andy Fickman, based on the work of William Shakespeare, and distributed by Dreamworks. So whoever 'owns' it, it isn't me. ;)

Parallax, or more accurately motion parallax (Greek: παραλλαγή (parallagé) = alteration) is the change of angular position of two stationary points relative to each other as seen by an observer, due to the motion of an observer. Simply put, it is the apparent shift of an object against a background due to a change in observer position.

August 25th, 2008
Los Angeles, California

Viola had to confess to being nervous.

Of course, she was generally always just a tad nervous the first day of classes at a new school, but for obvious reasons this was even worse then usual. She only had a few classes per day - a nice change of pace from high school, to be certain - and she was probably as ready for them as she was likely to get.

Also, soccer try-outs had gone pretty well, she thought. The results wouldn't be posted for a few days, though, which was helping her anxiety level not at all.

Helpfully, Introduction to Espionage was her first class. In theory, that would give her a better idea of what she was in for regarding the rest of her classes. As nervous as she was, though, she'd barely been able to get any sleep, and come morning had trudged out of her bedroom to the living room blearily, not really focusing on anything. Maybe some television would help calm her down, she decided as she flung herself down on the couch, not really even noticing that the TV was already on.

Rather then landing on the comfortable couch, though, she hit something decidedly solid, and couldn't help but "Oof!" as the air was driven from her lungs.

In her sleep-fogged state, she hadn't quite picked up on the fact that the couch was already occupied.

Once that finally sunk in, she wiggled about a bit until she'd turned over, and found herself looking up at a bemused Jessica Carmichael. "Did I wander into the wrong dorm room when I wasn't paying attention?" she wondered, honestly uncertain. Her brain was slowly but surely shaking itself free of cobwebs, but she had to admit she might just have been out of it enough to do precisely that.

Jess shook her head, smiling faintly. "No. I was just a bit concerned that Cynthia might try to molest me in my sleep, or some such thing."

Viola snorted - even though she half-suspected that, on some level, Jess might have really meant that - and finally noticed that, rather then being as lopsided as she should have been from having Jess's legs underneath her back, she was actually fairly level.

Apparently, Susan had also woken up early, and had been watching something on the television with Jess. "Morning, Susan."

Susan, for her part, had tensed when Viola had landed in her lap, and was actively trying not to notice the way the other girl's butt was resting against her crotch. Or the fact that the pale blue shirt she'd worn to sleep in was riding up, exposing her stomach. Or the fact that the red, silky smooth shorts she had on stopped part way down her thighs, leaving the rest of her glorious legs on full display for all to see.

She failed in all respects.

"Good morning," she said in as calm and level a manner as she could manage. This was really, really not fair. Having Viola as a roommate was bad enough, but having her sitting so provocatively in her lap, seemingly without a care? Once she'd noticed the smooth legs that were right there, it was impossible to ignore them. Especially since she wasn't quite sure where to rest her arms, now.

Well, if Viola felt comfortable enough with her and Jess to stay draped across them, then she couldn't really mind being used as an armrest. Indeed, Jess had placed the book she'd been reading - she'd lifted it upon seeing Viola falling towards them - on the other girl's chest, receiving no complaint. So Susan let one arm rest on her stomach, the other on her legs. Viola said nothing, merely looking curiously at the TV. "What are we watching, anyway?"

"One of about nine hundred and change cable channels," Susan replied. Over the past few days, she'd made a conscious decision to try and ignore whatever it was that kept making her react so... oddly... to Viola. If they were going to be rooming together for the next four years, after all, they really needed to be able to get along. "This one seems to come from somewhere in Japan. There's no dubbing or subtitles, though, so I really have no idea what's going on."

"I think they're currently showing an episode of Speed Racer," Jess added, not looking up from her book. Viola made an interested sound and turned her attention toward the TV. Clearly, she was perfectly comfortable where she was.

"They certainly did have an... interesting style of animation, back whenever this was made," Viola decided, amused. For the next half hour, they sat back and watched the undubbed cartoon, periodically mocking it. Susan was so distracted that she didn't even notice when her right hand began to wander a bit.

Viola, on the other hand, did. Given the way it was slowly sliding up her leg, it was kind of hard not to. She knew she should have been putting a stop to it, but didn't want to draw attention to it and embarrass Susan. She couldn't quite help but tense when the wandering hand reached her hip joint.

And stayed there.

For the rest of the show, Susan pretended she wasn't feeling up Viola, and Viola pretended not to notice it. Jess, to all appearances, genuinely didn't notice what was going on next to her, for which her two squadmates were grateful.

Viola was rescued by a knock on the door, and disentangled herself from the others to go answer it. She opened the door to find Cynthia, already dressed in the academy uniform. "Have you seen my roomie?" the blonde asked, sounding amused.

"Several times," Viola deadpanned, not moving an inch.

Cynthia grinned. "Were any of them today?"

"It's entirely possible," Jess answered from behind Viola, having risen from the couch and made her way over as soon as she knew who was at the door. "I'm glad to see you're finally awake."

"Yes," Cynthia drawled. "Apparently, someone reset my alarm clock to make sure I woke up at an ungodly early hour. I almost slept through it."

"You don't want to be late for class, do you?" Jess asked, unrepentantly.

"On that note," Viola broke in, "Susan and I need to get changed-"

"Don't let us stop you," Cynthia told them with another grin.

"-and have a quick something to eat," Viola continued, ignoring her. She suspected she was going to be doing a lot of that.

"See you in class," Jess told them as she practically dragged Cynthia out of the room with her.

Viola shook her head as she closed the door behind them.

This was going to be interesting.

**********************************************
Viola was feeling a little more confident by the time their first class was over. As she'd expected, Introduction to Espionage didn't seem like an especially difficult course, and it was interesting enough to actually make her want to pay attention, instead of feeling like she had to. They'd hadn't gone into too much detail on the first day - unsurprising, really - merely delving into the origin of espionage. She suspected that they were going to be covering quite a bit of history before they got to anything terribly current, but supposed that in this case, having background information to draw upon would definitely help.

They had a two-hour break before their next class, during which they were encouraged to read through their textbook to get a better idea of what they were in for.

Ordinarily, Viola would have resisted the idea of what amounted to extra homework, but given that the upcoming class was something called Theft and Infiltration 101, she had to admit that she was curious.

She did, of course, take a quick break to call Olivia.

"Hey, baby. What's up?"

Viola smiled by pure reflex at the sound of her voice. "Nothing much. Just missing you."

She could almost hear Olivia melting. "Aww! You are so sweet, you know that?"

"Ah, so that's why you can't get enough of going down on me, hmm?"

Olivia coughed and sputtered, making Viola grin. "Vi!"

"Relax, I'm alone."

"That makes one of us. But I miss you, too. I haven't seen you in days."

"Well, classes are over for the day around 6:30 or so, if you wanted to meet somewhere."

"I think there's a Starbucks a few blocks away from you," Olivia replied. "I can be there by seven-ish." She paused. "And you can bring your friends, if you want. I would like to meet them sometime."

"And publicly stake your claim?" Viola teased.

"Exactly."

Viola blinked, not having expected Olivia to be so blunt. "And how do you plan on doing that?" she asked curiously.

"However I have to," Olivia told her. "I'll go down on you in the middle of the coffeehouse, if that's what it takes."

It was Viola's turn to be shocked at her lover's words, and she couldn't quite stop a shiver of pure excitement from shooting down her spine. "Right there? In front of everyone? Really?" Her voice subconsciously dropped to a husky pitch, and she would have cursed herself for allowing herself to get so turned on so soon before she had to meet her squad, had she been able to care about anything beyond Olivia just then.

"I think you like that idea, don't you?" Olivia asked wickedly. "Got a bit of an exhibitionist streak, do we?"

"You act like this while we're there and I'm likely to forget about everyone else and screw you on top of one of the tables," Viola countered.

"I'll keep that in mind," Olivia promised. Clearly, it hadn't escaped her attention that Viola hadn't exactly denied her accusation. "Seven-ish."

"I'll be there," Viola promised. She just hoped her next class was interesting enough to distract her.

Otherwise, waiting until then would be sheer torture.

**********************************************
Cynthia was having a good day. Despite a somewhat rocky start - Jess had been less then pleased at the state Cynthia had left their room in that morning - things were going quite well.

Her first class had been fairly interesting, she'd made a few new friends, and even snuck into another girl's dorm room for a little... fun.

Really, that was the kind of friend she liked best, and was quite pleased that she'd managed to find one already.

Currently, she was waiting for Theft and Infiltration 101 to start, while Viola informed the rest of her squad that they were invited out for coffee to meet the frequently mentioned Olivia Lennox. She was certainly looking forward to being properly introduced to the girl, though she had a sneaking suspicion that if she dared try anything too overt with Olivia, Viola would injure her severely.

That might have had something to do with the fact that, after she'd invited them, Viola had looked squarely at her and said, "Put so much as one move on her, and I'll go borrow Julia's bat."

Jess seemed somewhat amused by that, while Susan's face was unreadable. Cynthia merely projected her best angelic look and asked, "Would I do that?"

"Yes," three voices replied simultaneously.

She gave up and grinned. "Okay, okay, I'll be good. I swear."

"Good," Viola said, checking her watch and frowning. "Is this class going to start sometime soon, or what?"

"Well, it has only been ten minutes," a pretty blonde sitting in front of Viola said. "The teacher could have been detained elsewhere. Really, who knows what might attract his or her attention at this school?"

"Yeah, I guess..." It was obvious that she wasn't happy about it, though.

Cynthia studied the blonde carefully. Definitely attractive, and the plaid skirt she was wearing revealed what she privately called 'ballerina legs'. (Frankly, unlike her classmates, she loved the academy's dress code.) She looked a bit older then anyone else in the room, though, which made her wonder. "I'm Cynthia," she said, extending her hand with a warm smile.

"Janet." Her grip was firm, and she didn't seem at all bothered by the openly flirtatious look Cynthia was giving her. She didn't seem interested in it, though, either. More like it was just something she was used to. And while she was definitely hot enough to warrant flirting from both genders, somehow Cynthia didn't think that was it.

Putting that together with a few other facts, including something Julia had said to them on their first night there, she came to a conclusion. "Well, I think we're ready to start class anytime." She smiled sweetly as she added, "Don't you, Professor?"

Viola blinked. "What?"

Janet held Cynthia's gaze steadily. "What are you talking about?"

"Well, you're a little too old to be a freshman," Cynthia began. "Also, I think I saw you near the stage during orientation. The way you were reacting to me makes me think you knew a certain someone who graduated years ago, which you really couldn't if you were actually a student. And while you're right in that in a school like this, the teacher could have been called off somewhere else for any number of reasons, that same logic says that the administration would never leave their students unattended." By this point, the rest of the class was looking at her in surprise.

Janet held out for several moments longer, then smiled. "Well done," she replied as she got to her feet. "It usually takes a little longer for someone to catch on, if anyone does. Though the fact that I know your RA might give you a bit of an unfair advantage."

She walked to the front of the classroom and faced the class, sitting on the edge of her desk. "I'm Professor Janet Carmody, and as Miss Moore has deduced, I'll be your instructor for this course. Welcome to Theft and Infiltration 101."

"I take it that was our first lesson on infiltration?" Jess asked dryly.

Janet smiled. "Yes, it was. Don't feel too bad, though. I pull that little trick on all my students their first class. It lets me observe them for a while before they put their guard up."

"So don't tell anyone about it after we leave?" Viola guessed.

"Exactly. Now, I'm sure some of you are wondering, 'Who is this crazy woman, and what the hell is she doing here?'" There were a number of smiles among the students, as well as a few quiet chuckles. "Well, I'm here to teach you the basics of what will be the building blocks of your spy career. When you think of espionage, what comes to mind?"

"Sneaking into places?" one girl near the back guessed.

"Spying on people?" another tried.

"Learning top secret information?"

"Saving the world?"

"Scoring with hot chicks?"

The surprising thing was that Cynthia wasn't the one who said it.

"I think you've been watching a few too many Bond films," Janet replied dryly, eliciting a few laughs from the class. "Aside from that, though, you've managed to get a fair number of the tasks that you may be assigned to do, should you make it through your first year here."

"Students get assigned missions?" Viola blurted out, surprised.

Janet wasn't at all phased by the interruption. "Once you're in your sophomore year, you will start getting assignments, yes. Nothing really big at first, and even as you work your way up through the grades, you're not likely to get anything that takes you all that far out of the city, let alone out of state or out of the country. Missions outside of national borders tend to go to the International Bureau, in any event. Student DEBS tend to act closer to police officers then spies, a lot of the time. There won't be any kind of long-term missions, or any real undercover work, until after you graduate." She paused as they took that in, then frowned. "Where was I?"

No one had a chance to answer. "Oh, right. The basics. Espionage, in all its many facets, boils down to two simple concepts: theft and infiltration. Theft of property, of information, of any number of things, really. And the only way those thefts can be carried out is by infiltrating somewhere that you're not supposed to be. Now, a lot of you are probably thinking, 'Wait, didn't you just say that the DEBS also act as law enforcement, not just spies?', am I right?" Several of the class nodded. "That's true. But you'll be learning more about your law enforcement duties elsewhere. My job is to start the process of getting you prepared for the day when you do have to act as spies. And I'll be honest with you, it is not the glamorous life some of you likely think it is. Spies take their lives into their hands every time they go on a mission, and I've had a number of friends over the years who went on a mission and never came back."

Silence descended upon the classroom like a physical weight following that pronouncement, and a few students shifted uncomfortably. "And when you do have a mission where sneaking out unnoticed isn't an option, and you manage to come home alive, chances are high that there will be a number of people on the other side that never will," she added solemnly. "Now, don't get me wrong. There will be times when this can be one of the most fun and rewarding jobs on the planet. But if you don't take it seriously, if you're just in it for the fun of it or the adrenaline high, if you're not careful, your first mission could be your last." She allowed the class to sit in silence for several long moments, then added in a kind tone, "If you change your mind at some point and decide this isn't the life for you, no one will mock you for it. You don't need to decide now. Like I said, freshmen don't get assigned missions." No one said anything, and she smiled. "All right, then. In the meantime, I'll do everything I can to prepare you for what lies ahead. Now, since we've covered one of the big ones already, we can skip ahead a bit. So open your textbooks to page seven..."

**********************************************
The rest of the class was, thankfully, much lighter in tone. Still, it was a fairly somber group of students that left Professor Carmody's classroom two hours later. No one said much of anything to anyone as they dispersed toward their next destinations.

It wasn't that any of them had really thought being a DEB would be all sunshine and roses, but they hadn't expected it to be driven home so thoroughly just how dangerous a profession they were getting involved in.

Viola and her team had managed to shake off their melancholy somewhat by their next class, though the fact that it was martial arts training didn't help much.

This time, at least, their instructor didn't try to fake them out by playing dress up. He introduced himself as Kenji Romanno, which presumably indicated he was a child of a mixed marriage. Viola peered at him critically, just in case he was trying to pull something else on them, but had to admit that she did think she could see hints of Caucasian mixed in with his features. He also mentioned that he was a nanadan, which, upon seeing their confused look, he explained meant that he was a seventh degree black belt.

That, naturally, caught everyone's attention.

Well, Viola reasoned, it wasn't like she'd thought the DEBS academy wouldn't have the best they could find in just about every subject, so this wasn't really a surprise. It was good to know, though, that their teacher was as skilled as he no doubt was. Hopefully, this also meant he was very patient, because while she couldn't speak for everyone else, she knew she had no real training in any kind of combat, unless one counted on a soccer field.

The only student she knew had received some training was Jess.

Thankfully, their first lesson didn't involve any fighting whatsoever. Sensei Romanno did demonstrate several moves, including basic throws and holds, but for most of the class he lectured.

Viola wasn't quite certain why they needed to learn about the history of judo, but gamely paid attention to every word he said. It was actually a bit more interesting then she would have thought, and she was relieved to discover that judo was a deliberate departure from ancient martial arts, whose sole purpose was for killing. Something that would let her win in a fight without killing anyone was definitely worth learning, as far as she was concerned.

He also informed them that they would be issued jūdōgi - a word he translated as simply meaning "judo uniform" - which they would be required to wear to each subsequent lesson. A jūdōgi apparently consisted of white or blue cotton drawstring pants and a matching white or blue quilted cotton jacket, fastened by a belt, which would be colored to indicate rank. The jacket was intended to withstand the stresses of grappling, and as a result, was much thicker than that of a karate uniform.

They would also be incorporating various elements from other fighting styles into their training, she learned, such as akido (which sounded just as good to her) and American karate (which Sensei Romanno classified as a "whatever works" approach, something that she didn't like the sound of quite as much, but had to admit would certainly be a good thing to learn). They would be training with him for the next four years, and he made it clear that even if they lasted that long, there was no guarantee that they would be experts by then. However, he also made it clear that he would do everything within his power to make certain that they were able to defend themselves to the best of their ability before his time with them was over.

He didn't strike her as an overly warm and fuzzy guy, but he was professional and dedicated, and obviously cared about their safety. Which she supposed was all she really needed in a sensei.

Besides, she appreciated 'tough but fair' types.

**********************************************
It was their last class of the day that was the really polarizing one. Students were either really looking forward to it, or dreading it. Viola was a bit uncertain, but was uneasy enough to classify herself as one of the latter.

Weapons training.

She was just grateful that, like martial arts practice, their first class would include no practical experience at all. In fact, from what the teacher told them, it was going to be quite some time before they ever got their hands on a weapon, and even then they would be restricted to paintball guns until she was satisfied with their level of progress.

She gave no indication how long that would take, and no one asked. Agent Sellick was as professional and detached as one might expect of a spy, and her demeanor throughout the class did not encourage unnecessary questions or conversation.

The scar on her left cheek made some of them nervous, as well, and Sellick did nothing to discourage this.

The history of firearms did not capture Viola's attention quite the way the rest of her classes had, but she didn't dare miss anything. She had the feeling the strict 40-something DEB wouldn't appreciate anything less then complete attentiveness.

So she learned how guns were first made, why they were made, and when they were made. Comparisons were made to modern guns, and mention was made of more esoteric weaponry, such as laser canons and something called particle subduction technology, which, along with the equally confusing "polarized obduction canon", would evidently be covered in another class.

Sellick didn't bother to tell them which class, just that it wouldn't be hers.

They were there, she told them, for one reason and one reason only: to learn everything they would ever need to know about firearms. Their history, current models, next generation weapons, how to shoot them, how to care for them, how to repair them... everything.

This, she made it clear, was not going to happen overnight. That did not, however, mean that she was going to take it easy on them, or expect little from them.

Privately, Viola wondered if maybe Agent Sellick wasn't a Marine drill instructor in a previous life.

Or maybe her current one.

**********************************************
Viola - after making sure no one was there this time - flopped down on the couch in her dorm room. Dear God this had been a long day. And they had only had a few classes - and hadn't even gotten to anything physically demanding, yet!

Soccer probably wasn't going to help with that, but there was no way she'd give it up. Not after everything she'd gone through to get there.

The day had been a bit emotionally draining, she decided. That was it. She just needed to rest for a minute, then she'd get up and change to go meet Olivia. Not that she thought she couldn't leave school grounds in her uniform or anything, and she knew she did have to get used to it eventually, but she just wanted to be Viola for this. Specifically, the Viola that Olivia knew. She doubted Olivia would even know what the DEBS student uniforms looked like, but why take chances?

Besides, the fetish-esque outfit might give Olivia... ideas.

Besides, she didn't think they were supposed to wear their uniforms when they were "off-duty".

It actually took her three minutes to work up enough energy to get up and get moving, though once she was moving, she was fine. The question now was what did she want to wear?

She settled on a white halter top with red capris, along with black flats. Dressing up was still something of a foreign concept to her - much to her mother's dismay - but she wanted to look nice for Olivia. She knew, though, that Olivia wouldn't care if she showed up in shorts and a t-shirt, or even a brown sack. But she thought she'd achieved a nice balance between looking good and being comfortable.

Since it was only a few blocks, they wouldn't have any trouble walking there. She met the others in the dorm building's lobby - if that was the right term; she honestly had no idea - several minutes later. Cynthia, in keeping with her promise to be good, was wearing a Hard Rock Cafe T-shirt (from Las Vegas, interestingly enough) and a pair of jean shorts that would have been cut almost too short on anyone else, but were much more concealing then her usual choice of clothing, and white tennis shoes. Susan had gone one better by wearing full-length jeans and a black t-shirt with several German words that Viola vaguely recognized from one of her brother's Rammstein posters, cluing her in to who it was about, despite it saying Rosenrot. She decided to look it up later.

It had taken the most convincing to get Jess to come along, as she'd wanted to get started on their homework. Immediately. Viola had finally argued that if she came, then the entire squad would be there, which would really be more even. Jess had given her a look that said she knew she was being manipulated, but had agreed anyway. Privately, Viola thought she'd wanted to come, but her obsessive-compulsive nature hadn't been letting her until they'd made an argument that appealed to it. Besides, Jess deserved to have fun as much as the rest of them did, and Viola wanted Olivia to meet all of her new friends.

Jess wore a white blouse and a light blue skirt, with matching shoes. Even after the long walk to the Starbucks, she looked immaculately pressed. Viola had to wonder what her secret was.

Then Olivia stood up from her table, and Viola forgot about everything else. Including breathing.

Olivia was wearing a white low V-cut banded bottom top tunic mini-dress that exposed far more of her gorgeous cleavage then Viola was used to seeing in public, and actually stopped farther up her thighs then Cynthia's shorts did. Viola couldn't see her shoes, and wouldn't have cared if she did. She didn't even notice the low moan that emanated from her throat.

Susan did, and elbowed her in the side. "For God's sake, stop that before you slip and fall in a puddle of drool!" she hissed.

Viola blinked, rubbed her side, and forced down her lust as best she could. Susan was right. This really wasn't the time or place. Still, though, once she got Olivia alone...

"Right. Okay. I'm fine, really." No one looked especially convinced, but they still followed her over to Olivia's table. "You are such a bad girl," Viola breathed into Olivia's ear as she gave her a hug, which seemed more appropriate then the greeting she wanted to give her.

"I have no idea what you mean," Olivia replied with a valiant attempt at innocence. "So, who's whom?"

As they sat down, Viola gestured to each one as she introduced them. "Jessica Carmichael, Susan Jolley, Cynthia Moore..." She moved her chair closer to Olivia's and sat down herself. "...meet Olivia Lennox."

"Nice to meet you properly," Cynthia said with a grin.

"How did meet the two of them in the first place?" Susan asked. She became even more curious when Viola winced and Olivia blushed.

"Oh, apparently Olivia dragged our Vi here into a bathroom stall at the airport to have her way with her," Cynthia replied easily.

"Why does that not surprise me?"

"What?" Viola asked, resigning herself to the knowledge that she was never going to live that down, so she might as well go with it. "That we were getting it on in a bathroom stall, or that she stopped to listen?"

"Well... Both, I guess," Susan admitted.

"You're going to UCLA?" Jess asked Olivia, seemingly ignoring the previous conversation.

Olivia clearly appreciated it. "Yeah. I'm majoring in chemistry. Not sure about what I'll be doing after that, but I have some time to decide, yet."

"That sounds challenging."

"It is. It's also time consuming. Most courses require a lab section that's actually longer than the average daily course. But it's definitely worth it, and I'll have a lot of options available to me after I graduate."

Viola was now very glad she'd convinced Jess to join them. "And I'm sure you'll be able to handle it easily."

Olivia smiled at her. "I don't know about 'easily', but I appreciate your confidence in me. I'm not sure how often we'll be able to get together - I wasn't kidding about the labs..."

"Hey, don't worry about it," Viola said, taking hold of her hands. "I don't want to distract you from your schoolwork. When you have time to see me, you have time to see me."

"But your schedule might not-"

"For you, I'll make time," Viola assured her. "And if - or maybe I should say when? - school starts getting you all stressed, just give me a call, and I'll come over to help you relax."

"And if she can't make it," Cynthia began, only to be cut off by a kick to the shins from Viola. "Then we'll find some way of getting you to her," she finished, barely missing a beat.

"Nice save," Susan murmured.

"Bite me."

Well, this was... overdue, wasn't it?

Anyway...

Nick Sakai as Sensei Kenji Romanno

Emma Amos as Agent Sellick (The second pic is how she looks in the story.)

Oh, and if any of you were curious about the outfit Olivia was wearing...

Cherry Blossom: Revisited Chapter 5 - (08/18/2009)

2009-08-18T05:44:47Z

And just think, this isn't even the story most overdue for an update. Since it's been so long, I decided to include links to the previous chapters on my journal, for any who might have forgotten what the story was about, or haven't read any of it, yet. Hope you enjoy it!

Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4

Title: Cherry Blossom: Revisited (chapter 5/?)

Author: That'd be me. *grins* Andrew, Obsidian, call me what you want. But only if it's nice. ;)

Rating: R. And not for the usual reason, either. ;)

Comments: *shakes off writer's block* Nay! You shall not have me forever, foul villain!

Legal Disclaimer: I do not own 'D.E.B.S.', Angela Robinson does. Though if I had my way, there would have been a sequel or two by now. ;)

The sound of the gunshot was almost painfully loud in the confined space of the tunnel, and Lucy could tell that her ears would be ringing for several minutes afterward.

That was really the least of her worries, though. Instincts and reflex caused her to duck a split second before the shot was fired, but even so, it was damned close. She could actually feel the bullet part her hair as it passed by, and a slight sting on her scalp from the friction of its passage told her that she'd dropped to the ground literally at the last possible millisecond. "Hold your fire!" she shouted, pulling back into the tunnel and readying her own gun, just in case. "I'm not one of those... things!"

Seconds went by without a response, and a sinking feeling in her stomach told her that this was probably not Diane, after all. Di would have recognized her voice immediately.

Unless she'd been infected by whatever was loose on the island, too.

Cheerful thought there, Lucy.

She shook her head. She didn't want to think that was what had happened, but whether she liked it or not, she had to recognize that it was a possibility.

"Who are you, then?" She started a bit at the reply; she'd begun to think she wasn't going to get an answer. And it may have sounded weak and tired, but that was not Diane's voice, which was something of a relief. Sort of. "The only people who are supposed to be on this island are the natives, my team, and Black Dragon's people. I don't know you, so you're not on my team, and you sure as hell don't sound like a native, so..."

"I do NOT work for that piece of shit!" Lucy cried indignantly, incensed at the mere suggestion.

"Well, then?"

She was still irritated that this person would even imply such a thing, but she forced herself to calm down and admit that it was a reasonable conclusion when one didn't have all the facts. "I came here to get Diane."

"Do you even have a name?" She heard a quiet hiss as if of pain, and the sound of the woman in the cave repositioning herself. Evidently she was hurt, and Lucy felt the last of her anger drain away. She couldn't really blame the other woman for being snippy if she was in pain. God knew she got cranky herself when she was injured, especially in the field. And in a situation like this...

"I'll tell you that in a minute. First things first, though. If I come in there, will you please not to try and shoot me again? I promise I'm not going to hurt you." She was beginning to have her suspicions on just who the woman in the cave worked for - she sounded young, was obviously armed, and had come to a supervillain's island headquarters with the presumable goal of taking him down, which narrowed the field of possibilities to several law enforcement agencies she'd come into conflict with in the past, with one being the most likely - so revealing her identity was a risk, but it should have been obvious to her that they both had bigger problems at the moment, and might just have to work together to get off the island alive.

Besides... Much as she didn't want to admit it to herself, she wanted to help the unknown woman. Anyone who could go through what she evidently had and maintain her composure enough to deal with the zombies that had followed her down and an unknown such as herself was someone that she wanted to get to know better.

The woman was quiet as she thought it over. "All right," she said finally. "But keep your hands where I can see them, please?"

It actually sounded more like a polite request then a "suggestion", and Lucy felt her eyebrows raise. "Fair enough." Holstering her gun, she walked slowly into the cave, taking care not to make any threatening moves.

The woman had let her gun hand drop to the ground near her leg, evidently too tired to hold it up for long. Her face was drawn tight in pain, the green light of the glow stick making her look even more pale then she was. Her left leg was stretched out ahead of her, and when she shifted position again she made an obvious effort not to move it. Easy enough to tell where she was hurt, then.

She was also gorgeous. Not even the garish chemical light could disguise that.

And sure enough, there on her shirt was the symbol of the DEBS. Just this once, though, she didn't care. She wouldn't even leave a DEB, injured or not, in a place like this. And the blonde certainly seemed like she wouldn't mind leaving. Pale and sweating, there was an air of quiet misery about her, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tried to get enough oxygen from the stale air of the cave. Her shirt was damp with sweat and clung to her like a second skin, tightly enough to make it obvious that she wasn't wearing a bra, which Lucy wasn't about to complain ab-

"Are you checking me out?" The question, laced with incredulous disbelief, snapped her back to attention.

She was right, Lucy admitted to herself with some chagrin. This really was neither the time nor the place for such things. "Where are you hurt?" she asked, ignoring the question for the time being.

"What did you say your name was?"

Lucy had to restrain her smile. Fair enough, she supposed. "Lucy Diamond."

The blonde stared at her for several seconds, then began to laugh quietly. "Oh, perfect. Perfect!" she muttered, still chortling. "You're alone and injured in hostile territory, so naturally who else would show up but the DEBS arch-enemy? Your luck is certainly operating in rare form today, isn't it?"

As she was talking to herself, Lucy took the opportunity to move closer. "I told you, I'm not going to hurt you," she said again.

The woman turned to look up at her, and Lucy met her gaze steadily. "I believe you," she said, sounding surprised by the admission.

So was Lucy. She'd meant it, yes, but still... "Who are you, anyway? And how badly are you hurt?"

The woman's lips quirked in amusement for some reason. "My name is Amy. Amy Bradshaw."

It took a few moments for the name to click. "...oh." The famed Perfect Score herself. She allowed herself a brief smile. "Well, Amy, it's nice to meet you. Wish it was under better circumstances."

"So do I. And I hurt my ankle when I fell through that hole back there. I think it's broken."

That sobered her up quickly. This was really one of the worst possible places for an injury like that. Judging by her expression, Amy was keenly aware of that already. "We're going to have to get you out of here, then." The cave, unfortunately, was just that: a cave. She didn't know enough about vulcanology to know how it was formed, but there were no other openings leading to anywhere else. At least, not down there. The tunnel above, though... "We can find something to splint it with when we get back to the surface."

"We?"

"Yes, we. Unless you want to stay down here?"

Amy didn't need anywhere near as much time to think that one over. "We have to find my team," she said as she extended a hand to Lucy.

The blonde gritted her teeth and hissed in pain as Lucy helped her to her feet. "How many of you are there?"

An entirely different kind of pain filled her eyes. "There were four of us, plus two Homeland Security agents. Bobby was.. t-trying to lead them away from me, the heroic idiot..."

Lucy eyed her critically for a moment, then decided that supporting her as she limped along would take too long, and would only inflict more pain on her. "And Bobby would be...?"

"Bobby Matthews." She swallowed hard. "My boyfriend."

Lucy winced. Ouch. That she was able to hold herself together through so much, though... Her respect for Amy jumped up another few notches. "I'm sorry," she said sincerely.

Amy managed a wan smile. "Thanks." She shook her head. "How are we doing this?"

Not minding the change of subject, Lucy gave her a faint smile of her own. "We go back to where you fell through. I left a rope there."

"And how do you suggest that we- Whoa!" Having come to a decision, Lucy simply scooped Amy up into her arms and began carrying her carefully down the narrow tunnel. "You could have warned me," she managed to say once the pain from the sudden movement of her ankle subsided somewhat.

"It wouldn't have helped. You would just have tensed up. Believe me, I know." Oh, did she ever know.

"I'll take your word for it. Diane works for you, huh?"

"Yeah. You guys found her?"

"Uh-huh. She wasn't any happier to be here then we were. Are. What were you thinking, sending her here alone?"

Lucy had been asking herself that same question since they'd left her own headquarters. "I was thinking that we needed to know what Black Dragon was up to out here, and that the fewer people went, the better their chances of remaining undetected. Believe me, if I'd known about any of this..."

"Why come at all? I mean, it's not like you're one of the good guys." A slight pause. "No offense."

"None taken." Honestly, she was surprised that it had taken this long for that question to be asked. "But just because I'm a criminal... Well, that doesn't mean that I don't care. Do you have any idea how many people he and his organization have hurt?"

"Do you have any idea how many people all the weapons you buy and sell have hurt?" Amy challenged. "How many would have died if you'd actually managed to sink Australia? How many suffer from all the other various parts of yoru crime syndicate?"

Actually... she did have an idea. And it kept her up nights, sometimes. "Touché," she said quietly as they reached the hole.

"...sorry," Amy muttered.

"Not your fault you're right." Lucy gingerly set her down on her right leg, leaning her against the wall while she examined the rope. "Still looks stable. You're going to have to hang on to me while I climb."

Amy draped her arms over Lucy's shoulders, clasping her hands together over Lucy's chest. "Let me know if I start choking you."

"Will do." She began hauling them up, all to aware of the way Amy was tensing in pain. All this moving around must have been agonizing, but when she spoke, it was to ask the last thing Lucy would have expected. "You were checking me out before, weren't you?"

"Is this really the time for that?" It wasn't that long of a climb, true, but she still needed to focus. And frankly, the feeling of Amy's body pressing against hers was distracting enough by itself.

Amy made a motion that suggested a shrug without actually moving her arms that far. "Seemed like a more pleasant thing to think about then what might be waiting for us up top."

"When I got here, there wasn't anyone or any thing around," Lucy reassured her.

It didn't quite seem to work. "No one?" Amy asked quietly. "Not even... remains?"

"Well," Lucy began slowly, "there were bodies up there. Not like I'd know one native from another, though."

"But... just natives."

"Yeah." It dawned on her what Amy was trying not to ask. "I didn't see anyone wearing a Homeland Security uniform, though. Your guy might still be alive."

Amy's answer, when it came, was barely a whisper. "That's... kind of what I'm afraid of."

Lucy frowned in confusion. Why would... Oh. She winced.

On this island, there were worse things then death to worry about.

"If that did happen," she said as she hauled them up into the tunnel on the surface, "we won't let him stay that way."

"Damn right we won't," Amy replied seriously, a look of quiet gratitude for Lucy's understanding on her face.

She leaned Amy against the wall of the tunnel. "You stay put. I'm going to look for something we can splint that ankle with."

"Where would I go?"

"Like I haven't seen you DEBS just poof into thin air before."

Amy closed her eyes, resting her head against the cool stone of the wall. "Believe me, if that was an option, we'd be long gone already."

"No doubt." Amy didn't move as she headed for the tunnel's entrance. "And as to your earlier question... Yes."

Amy frowned. "Yes, what?"

A hint of amusement entered Lucy's voice. "Yes, I was checking you out."

Amy's eyes flew open, but Lucy was already gone.

**********************************************
Janet felt like she was going to throw up.

Her arm was throbbing where the thing had bitten her, and she felt hot and itchy all over. She'd tried to just write it off as the effects of running through a jungle on a tropical island, but after a while that just wasn't enough to explain it.

And she could barely breathe. Even when they stopped to rest, having succeeded in at least temporarily losing the pursuing hordes, she was all but doubled over, inhaler clutched tightly in her fist. She'd never had an asthma attack like this in her entire life. Even on the rare occasions when it was too serious for anything but a trip to the emergency room, it hadn't felt like this. Because this didn't feel that severe, was the thing. Her inhalers should have been taking care of it by themselves.

They just... weren't.

It felt almost like they'd been watered down, or something. They did alleviate her symptoms - at least, the breathing-related ones - but only for a little while. Her medication did not... wear off, like that.

Or at least, it shouldn't have been.

A sudden, sharp throb from her arm distracted her from her thoughts. When they'd all scattered after the helicopter's explosion, she'd ended up with Dominique and Gordon as they charged off into the jungle. After a while, they'd managed to get a hold of Max, and altered course to rendevous with her and Diane. Amy and Bobby were nowhere to be found, and weren't answering their comms. She didn't want to think about why.

She wanted to think even less, however, about the look of horror Diane had given her when she's spotted the wound on her arm. She didn't want to worry anyone, but reluctantly had to concede that the virus proceeded unchecked, she could easily become a danger to her friends. So she didn't try to stop her when Diane pointed out that she'd been bitten.

"You're sure that's all it takes?" Max asked for what Janet thought was the third time.

Diane seemed to understand perfectly, though. "Yes. I had a chance to review some of Black Dragon's research before things went all to hell, and this virus seems to behave like a bloodborne pathogen. You can't become infected through casual contact, thank the Lord, but it can pass through membranes like those of your eyes, so don't touch them or any open wounds if you have come into contact with it. And it is found in their bodily fluids, so don't let them bleed on you, drool on you, or especially bite you."

"Why am I having so much trouble breathing?" Janet asked as she took another hit from her inhaler. She almost wished Max had never asked anything. Ignorance certainly seemed to be bliss, she decided as she learned one disturbing fact after another. But if there was something in all this that would help her friends, then she'd put up with being scared.

Diane frowned. "I don't know," she admitted. "None of the test subjects I read about had asthma, so there's no telling how that would affect things. Later stages did include fluid in the lungs, but you're nowhere near that badly off yet."

"Where is his lab?" Max asked, expression unreadable. Janet hoped she wasn't blaming herself for this. After all, there wasn't anything else that she - or anyone, really - could have done.

"Inside the volcano. He somehow dug out enough tunnels to set up an entire base in there."

"So if he did have a cure, that's where it would be?"

Diane hesitated. "In theory, yes. But I never saw any signs that-"

"But you didn't see everything, did you?" Max interrupted.

"No," Diane admitted. "But something like that would have-"

"He may be crazy and evil, but Black Dragon doesn't strike me as being stupid. There's no way he'd play around with something as deadly as this in his own base without making sure that he, at least, would have a cure available should something go wrong."

And that, Janet had to admit with a rising sense of hope, made a lot of sense. Diane seemed to agree, as she shrugged and said, "That does sound reasonable. And there would also be more weapons and steel doors that lock there, as well."

"Then I say we haul rear over there as fast as we can, before those things catch up with us again," Gordon piped up.

"Sounds like a plan," Max agreed. "Let's move, people."

"Got room for one more?"

The new voice startled them all, but Janet noticed that Diane's expression shifted from surprise to overjoyed relief as she whirled to face the speaker as he emerged from behind a tree. "Scud! Where's Lucy? Is she close? Is she safe? When did you get here?" She launched each question at him without giving him a chance to actually answer any of them. He smiled in amusement, which disappeared as soon as he noticed that every weapon in the group was now aimed squarely at him.

**********************************************
The main problem with a tropical island, Lucy decided, was that the trees didn't exactly produce the straight branches that would work best for a splint. They all seemed to curve and twist, making them less then helpful. And while the branches on a palm tree might be straight, they were also far too flexible to be of any good.

It took her a while, but she finally found a stick that she thought would be good enough. It wasn't entirely straight, but she believed the slight curve would actually follow that of Amy's leg.

On her way back, she decided that this would be as good a time as any to check in with Scud. Keeping an eye - and ear - out for any unwanted company, she activated her comm. "Scud, come in."

"Yeah, boss?" His voice sounded oddly tense, but given the situation, she could hardly blame him. "Where are you?"

"Near that cave I told you about." Her lips briefly quirked into a smile. "I even made a new friend," she said lightly.

"Well, if she knows the people who are currently holding me at gunpoint, do you think she could be convinced to ask them to aim their weapons elsewhere?"

She blinked, then clapped a hand over her eyes and shook her head. It shouldn't have been a surprise, she knew. They were federal agents in an unbelievable situation, and someone they didn't know just appeared out of the jungle? Hell, Amy herself would have killed her if she hadn't been fast enough to dodge. "I'm heading back to her now." She dropped her hand and resumed her trek. "What were you thinking, walking up to a group of no doubt trigger happy feds?"

"They haven't actually shot me, yet. And that was where Diane was."

Lucy felt a wave of relief. "She's all right?"

"Aside from a few scrapes and bruises, yeah. Problem is, she said enough to clue them in to who I am... and who you are."

Ah. That would do it, all right. "Well, hang on another minute or two, and we'll see if we can't get this cleared up."

"Oh, believe me, I'm not going anywhere."

Despite the anxiety and impatience she must have been feeling, Amy had indeed remained exactly where she'd been left. "I was wondering when you'd get back," she said softly, almost listlessly.

Lucy silently berated herself for leaving the obviously traumatized woman alone with nothing but her dark thoughts to keep her company. "Sorry. The foliage on this island sucks. I did finally find something, though. And Scud seems to have found your friends."

As she'd hoped, that perked Amy up visibly. "Are they all right?"

"I think so. Well enough to hold him at gunpoint, anyway."

Amy blinked, then snorted. "Then Max is okay, at least."

That certainly jibed with what she'd heard of Max Brewer. "Think you could call them off?"

Amy sighed. "My comm's smashed."

Lucy reached into a pocket and pulled out a small earpiece. "I have a spare you can use."

"Thanks." Amy gave her a small smile. "You're going to have to change the frequency for me, though. Don't think my hands are steady enough right now."

That must have been hard to admit, so Lucy said nothing about it. "To what?" she asked, setting the branch down and hunting through her pockets until she found the tiny tool kit that held what she'd need.

"10459 kilohertz."

"Uh-huh... All right... Almost... Okay, there we go." She closed it up and handed it to Amy, who put it in her ear while Lucy pulled her shirt over her head, leaving her in a white tank top, which was wet enough from sweat to show her lacy bra, if one was looking closely enough.

Evidently, at least for a few moments, Amy was. "Um..."

Lucy grinned. "Need something to use to make the splint, and I'm fresh out of gauze."

Tearing her gaze off of Lucy - who just grinned wider - she locked her eyes on the tunnel wall as she activated the comm. "Max, are you there? Can anybody hear me?"

She winced, and Lucy could dimly hear what must have been a loud burst of static that thankfully subsided quickly enough. "Yeah, I'm okay. Um, sort of. Look, could you stop aiming your guns at that poor guy there?" A pause. "Yeah, I know who he is. His boss is right here with me." Another pause. "No, she's... No. I... Max! She is NOT holding me hostage! She- Fuck!" She went white with pain as Lucy began splinting her leg. "No... No, Max, that was... Yeah, I know what it must have sounded like. Look, Bobby and I..." She closed her eyes, a tear winging its way down her cheek. "Bobby and I were chased to this cave. It had a gate at the entrance, and he closed it once I was inside, then made sure I couldn't reopen it to stop him from trying to lead them away. I don't know exactly what... Anyway, some of them must have stuck around, because they started battering at the gate. I started heading deeper into the tunnel, but the floor gave way and I fell down into another tunnel, braking my ankle in the process. Lucy hauled my sorry ass out, and is currently putting a splint on it. That's what you heard. Now, I say we all get the hell off of this damned island, and there's no damn way that- Shit!"

"Sorry," Lucy said quietly.

"There's no damned way that we're leaving without them," Amy rasped, clearing her throat before speaking again. "So just put your guns down so we can all cooperate. Our respective careers really don't mean a damn thing here, and you know it."

It occurred to Lucy that Amy hadn't sounded like she was being interrupted once during that little speech. Evidently, her team had been too affected by her words to even speak up.

She knew how they felt.

"Okay. Thank you."

"Your friend certainly sounds like an amazing woman," Scud said, and Lucy realized that since the comms favored by the DEBS were integrated into their watches and the tiny speakers were surprisingly powerful, he must have heard both sides of that conversation, unlike her.

She'd heard enough, though. "That she is," she agreed softly as she finished securing the splint. "That she is."

Amy's cheeks tinged faintly red. "They're heading this way," she told Lucy. "Black Dragon's lab is supposedly inside the volcano somewhere."

"And this gated and guarded tunnel leads back into the mountain," Lucy noted.

"Good," Amy said as Lucy helped her up, putting one of her arms around her shoulders to help support her weight. "I don't think I'd be able to walk all that far."

"I could always carry you again," Lucy offered with a half-grin.

Amy's cheeks turned a bit more red, and she didn't respond.

Have successfully ambushed the muse. Will work on getting her to help me get some other updates written shortly. Am v.v. sorry about lack of updates prior to this.

You can't hide from me forever, muse!

2009-06-08T08:22:20Z

Title: Do Not Go Quietly... (3/?)
Author: obsidian179
Rating: PG-13, at least so far.
Disclaimer: Grey's Anatomy is the property of ABC and Shonda Rhimes - though considering the treatment they've been giving it, I'm starting to think there should be some kind of DCFS-equivalent for television shows.
Summary: This was NOT how Callie wanted to leave things...

Author's notes: I've come to the realization that I hate moving. Not only does it take forever, disrupt my life, and require a LOT of boxes (more then I really had when I started), but it also seems to chase away the muse. But I'm finally all settled in, so let's get this show back on the road.

This was the flight from hell.

Callie had to fight down an almost overpowering urge to slam her head into the window repeatedly until she knocked herself unconscious. She didn't really want to flirt with a concussion or possible brain damage, but even those risks were beginning to lose their ability to frighten her.

She was in coach, which was all that had been available. Not that she had to fly first class or anything, and given how last minute her ticket purchase had been - and that it was a direct flight to New York, which was always crowded with people who didn't want to have to deal with changing planes - it wasn't exactly a surprise, but that did mean that she hadn't been able to choose her seat, and had ended up with a neighbor.

A very talkative neighbor.

And she couldn't tell the old woman to shut up, or say she really had no interest in what her seven thousand grandchildren were doing, without being unforgivably rude.

Not to mention that she was afraid that even that wouldn't shut the woman up.

Gentle hints about how she was rather tired and could use some sleep were ignored in favor of showing her pictures.

So.

Very.

Many.

Pictures.

Then they'd hit some turbulence. She caught herself wishing that someone would hit their head or break a limb, so that she'd have a valid excuse to get up and go somewhere else, but shuddered when she realized that her neighbor was frail enough that it could be her. Not that she enjoyed it aside from that, of course. One particularly rough patch had her clenching at her arm rests, feeling a jolt of panic flood through her as visions of the plane's fiery demise raced through her brain. Fortunately, it passed by quickly enough.

As a result of the sadly accident-free turbulence, her flight ended up taking even longer then the geological epoch that it had already gone on for. (Oh, they said they were about halfway through the six-and-a-half hour flight, but she knew better.) And when her seatmate finally did stop talking and took a nap, Callie herself found that she simply couldn't sleep.

She wished irony had a physical avatar, so she could punch it in the face.

She was simply too wound up to sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, her fears about the upcoming encounter with Erica would flood through her mind. That she would lose the blonde, that Erica might not want Callie in her life at all... It was simply unthinkable.

Maybe in some alternate universe where her brain had been reprogrammed by aliens or some such thing she might be able to go on, but this was real. She didn't know how to function without Erica anymore.

They were supposed to be together. She knew that. But she also knew that she'd never win Erica over with that argument. Which, of course, lead to the question of what she should say.

And she found she had absolutely no idea.

Since sleep was a lost cause by that point, she instead ordered a coffee and tried to plan out what she should say, how she could make Erica understand how incredibly sorry she was.

When they landed four hours later, she was no closer to figuring it out then she had been when she'd been in Seattle.

Something felt... off, somehow.

Erica Hahn was not the sort of woman who believed in premonitions, psychic powers, magic, fortune telling, horoscopes, or any such thing. She believed in the real, the tangible. She wasn't even sure where she stood on the subject of God.

And yet, ever since she'd first woken up that morning, something just felt... off.

She hadn't forgotten any appointments, nothing was wrong in the house, her car was running fine, her patients were in good shape - or as good as those in need of heart surgery could be.

She almost wanted something to go wrong, just so she'd have an actual cause for her unease. She became more tense and irritable as the day progressed. When she caught herself nearly snapping at one of the nurses, she decided a break was in order.

Fortunately, that was one of the perks of being the boss, setting her own schedule. As long as she kept her beeper on her, and didn't wander too far away from the hospital, she could step outside and take a walk if she wanted to.

Luckily, Mount Sinai was practically next door to Central Park.

Leaving Dr. Hahn at the doors of the hospital, she slipped through the crowd as she moved down the sidewalk. New York City was very different then Seattle, in almost every possible way. There were more people, it was warmer (not a lot, but it was warmer, which was nice), the surrounding landscape wasn't as green, it was less humid, there was less precipitation, the E.R. seemed busier... The list was endless, or so it sometimes seemed.

The staff at the hospital was different then she was used to, too. They were focused and competent and everything Seattle Grace wasn't. Everything they should have been. When she'd first accepted Webber's job offer, she'd been promised that Seattle Grace was the best hospital around, and exactly where she needed to be in order to advance her career.

She almost laughed. In one respect, that had actually been true. She'd barely been there a year, and now she was the Chief of Cardiothoracic Surgery at Mount Sinai, one of the most prestigious hospitals in the country. So at least something good had come out of working in that den of iniquity.

Now, if she could just convince herself that having her heart shredded like that had been worth it...

So far, she was at least sticking to her vow to avoid any romantic entanglements. Not that she hadn't been doing about the same back in Seattle at about this time after joining the staff. She'd even managed to keep the resident manwhore from sniffing too close. She simply hadn't realized that she should have been trying to keep the local women at a distance.

Not until she'd come along. But by then it had been too late. Callie had slipped into her heart before she'd realized it, and refused to be dislodged.

Not that it mattered anymore.

Pushing any thoughts of what she'd left behind to the back of her mind where they belonged, she smiled as she approached the coffee cart ahead of her. Sure, there was one such cart right in front of the hospital, and coffee machines scattered all over the hospital itself, in addition to what was served in the cafeteria, but Luis, in her opinion, simply made better java then they did. A little extra walking didn't bother her.

And the fact that none of her colleagues ever seemed to go there was hardly a drawback.

Luis himself was a few inches shorter then she was, middle-aged, and a few pounds comfortably overweight. He was a genial sort of guy, never pushing her beyond small talk, and his perpetual good mood often helped a bit on bad days. In return, she refrained from inquiring about his past, or why someone who spoke so fondly of his home in the Dominican Republic was in New York.

Besides, he provided her with coffee, which automatically endeared him to her.

"Good morning, Doctor Hahn," he greeted her, customary smile on his face. "Lovely day, isn't it?"

"It's only morning?" she asked even as she got out the money for her usual. A quick look at her watch confirmed that his statement was accurate, if only just barely. "It may be a lovely day, but I can already tell it's going to be a long one."

"Days aren't long or short," he corrected, still smiling. "They just are. It's how we view them that differs."

Her lips curled wryly. "Well, I suspect I'm going to view this one as dragging on forever, then." She shook her head. "Wish I knew why."

He offered a slight shrug as he poured her coffee. "Who can say? Perhaps there is something that you're missing."

Or someone.

It took a fair amount of effort to keep her expression level, but the thought, once it had occurred to her, wouldn't be banished quite as easily as usual. She'd been doing her damnedest to avoid thinking about her ever since she'd left Seattle, usually with mixed results. She took another sip of her coffee and made a deliberate effort to turn her attention to her upcoming surgeries, pretending she didn't see Luis watching her as she did. "Nothing that would be making me feel like this," she said truthfully, then paused, as she felt a chill run down her back. It was the oddest feeling, and she just barely resisted the urge to look behind her. Abruptly, her stomach clenched severely that she nearly lost what little coffee she'd already swallowed, along with her breakfast.

Luis didn't miss the change in her expression. "Doctor Hahn? Are you all right?"

No. No, she wasn't. She could feel the blood draining from her face, and her heartbeat rapidly accelerate. The coffee? She doubted it, unless Luis had spiked it with 100% pure, concentrated adrenaline. Still, she set it down on the cart, noting a slight tremor in her hand as she did. Memories of the end of Preston Burke's tenure at Seattle Grace swam to the forefront of her brain, but she knew this wasn't the same. Still, she'd never admit to any weaknesses. Not anymore. Not since... her. "Yes, I'm okay." Her throat went dry, and a sudden surge in anxiety nearly knocked her off her feet. "Probably."

He stepped around his cart to stand next to her. "Perhaps you should sit down."

That sounded like a good idea, but what she really wanted was to be moving. "Thank you, but I think I'm going to head back to the hospital, now." She was actually starting to feel a little better, the odd feeling disappearing as mysteriously as it had appeared. "I have some paperwork to take care of, anyway. Thank you, though." That last was almost an afterthought, but if her time at Seattle Grace had taught her nothing else, she had at least relearned the basics of human interaction and possible friendship.

Not that she intended to ever let anyone get that close to her again.

Luis was obviously skeptical, but she was gone before he could even try and change her mind.

Callie could have wept from sheer relief when she finally left the airport. Well, relief and exhaustion. If she ever saw that old woman again...

No, forget it, get to Erica. She still didn't know what she was going to say - really, her mind felt like sludge, to the point where it took some effort even to remember where she wanted the taxi she flagged down to take her - but figured she might as well go with it. Overthinking things was what had started her problems back in Seattle, after all. She'd just be honest, tell Erica what she was thinking and feeling, and hope for the best.

It was mid-afternoon by then, the city a crowded bustle of people of every variety, all hurrying along to their destinations... some more patiently then others. She'd been to New York before, and was always amazed by the size and sheer scope of the place, the beautiful architecture, the incredibly diverse population. Now, though, she didn't even notice any of that. She simply stared out the window, in a sort of pense-less haze.

She probably should have had the cab take her to a hotel - and there was at least one not too far away that she could have stayed at, if not for free, then at least cheap; she hadn't been keeping up with her family's hotel chain all that well of late, so she had no idea if they'd opened any new ones - but all she could think of was getting to Erica. She'd wasted so much time already...

She was startled back to reality by the taxi driver's voice telling her they were there. Judging by his tone, it wasn't the first time he'd said it, either. She paid him the fare, probably giving him too big of a tip, and picked up her bag as she slid out of the cab and stepped onto the sidewalk.

She could only wonder what he must have thought of her, wandering around like a zombie and heading from the airport straight to the hospital. Probably that someone was sick or dying.

Considering the rate she'd been deteriorating since Erica had left... she wondered how wrong he would have been.

Mt. Sinai was very... large. And clean. And professional-looking. Intellectually, she knew Seattle Grace was all of those things, too, but standing out front, looking up at Erica's new hospital... She couldn't help but feel like Seattle Grace came up short in comparison, in every respect.

Given that they went from a second-ranked transplant center to a twelfth-ranked one...

Well, Erica might well have wanted to transfer there even if Callie hadn't treated her so horribly. But she wouldn't have. Not until Callie could have come, too. That was just the kind of person she was.

You don't deserve her, Torres.

She shook her head. That didn't matter. She needed to talk to Erica, to apologize to her, to see her.

Yeah, right. You're hoping that she'll take you back yet again, like some kind of doormat.

That wasn't true. She just-

Who do you think you're fooling? Why do you think she'd even give you the time of day after the way you treated her? You deserve to suffer.

Maybe... but Erica didn't. If she could just manage to find some way to bring her some kind of peace... of closure...

Right, because her cheating ex showing up to ask for another chance will help her find closure. Right. And you've done exactly what to try and make things up to her?

"Shut up..." she whispered. She was so very tired...

Her mind chuckled darkly at her. Never could stand hearing the truth, could you? Maybe that's why you ran out on Erica while she was bearing her soul to you. It was just too much for you, wasn't it? Too real. You knew then that you didn't deserve her, and did you ever go out of your way to prove that.

"Shut up!" People were staring at her, she noticed. Which, she supposed, might have something to do with the fact that she'd been standing in front of a hospital, staring at it, and yelling at nothing. Physical and emotional exhaustion made her feel like crying, but she pushed it back and headed inside.

She had to blink a few times when she came upon a directory to get it in focus enough to read it, but she managed to locate the Department of Cardiothoracic Surgery and headed for the elevator. She zoned out again for most of the ride, but at least this time she didn't need someone to tell her when she got there.

Her stomach was doing that for her quite nicely.

She supposed it was a lucky thing for the hospital's carpets that she hadn't eaten since... lunch yesterday? Had she even finished that meal? She couldn't remember anymore, and barely cared.

Still, when she winced after clearing her throat to get the attention of the woman at the desk, she did wish she'd grabbed a bottle of water or something.

"Can I help you?" the woman asked, looking at her curiously.

Deciding that was probably the best reaction she could have hoped for in her state, she made an effort to smile pleasantly. "Yes. I'm, ah, looking for Er- Ah, Doctor Hahn's office." Probably should have called her 'the chief', she thought a little too late. Ah, well. Nothing to be done about it, now.

"Dr. Torres?"

That caught her attention, because she may have been drifting in and out a bit lately, but she was certain she hadn't introduced herself yet. "How-?"

"Addison told me you were coming," she explained, smiling. "She wanted me to make sure you got here in one piece."

"Not sure I did," Callie muttered, not really aware she'd even spoken aloud.

The woman's smile faltered, her expression changing more to one of sympathy. "My name's Marie. Just give me a second to find someone to cover the desk, and I'll take you to the chief's office."

Callie nodded, otherwise not moving from her spot. Not from any impatience she might have been feeling so much as a general lack of energy.

Marie was a few inches shorter then Callie, with darker skin and black hair swept up into a bun. It looked like she was keeping it there with a pair of chopsticks, and it was a sign of just how out of it Callie was that she didn't even notice.

Erica's office turned out to be just as professional and impersonal as Callie would have thought. Beyond a somewhat battered-looking vinyl couch - which simply must have been more comfortable then it looked, for Erica to hang on to it - there wasn't really anything beyond the chair, desk, and computer that must have come with the office. Perhaps the couch had, too, thus accounting for its less-then-pristine condition. No pictures, no personal effects, nothing that said 'Erica'.

The office belonged to Dr. Hahn, and no one else.

She was surprised to find herself alone, then dimly recalled Marie saying something about going to find Dr. Hahn. The realization that Erica, the woman she'd flown across the country for, was likely on her way even at that moment should have inspired her to panic, but she just... couldn't. Instead, she felt a sort of resigned acceptance, as if some part of her was consigned to the belief that whatever happened from there on, it was out of her hands.

Which wasn't true, of course, but the next move certainly wasn't-

The door opened, and her train of thought dissolved.

Erica...

She was beautiful. Even as a flurry of emotions passed over the blonde's face, Callie couldn't help but think it. She'd forgotten just how beautiful Erica Hahn was in person. Or made herself forget it. And the effect that those eyes had on her.

Those blue, blue eyes.

Her knees quivered.

"Callie?" Erica was saying, or that was what Callie thought she was saying, but it was hard to hear anything over the sudden rushing in her ears. She tried to respond, to greet her, but her mouth wasn't working the way she wanted it to, and her legs felt like they were made out of lead when she tried to take a step closer. Erica took a few steps of her own, looking concerned as she said something else that Callie missed completely. Dehydration, starvation, and utter physical and emotional exhaustion all caught up with her, and she felt herself start to pitch forward as the world began going black.

The last thing she was aware of before she passed out completely was the pair of strong arms that caught her before she hit the floor.

Okay, I can explain...

2009-06-04T09:30:11Z

Well, sort of. As it happens, I just moved into a new apartment. That whole process played merry havoc with the muse, but she seems to have recovered, so I now give you the much delayed second half of Chapter 2 of Prometheus Unbound.

0819 hours

"What the hell is a... 'Perganian TransCoupler', anyway?" Max asked, peering down at the paper in front of her in annoyed confusion.

"You are asking me?" Dominique countered, eyebrow raised. "But it cannot be any more strange zen ze 'Difallic Converter'." She paused, then added, "Zat name disappoints me, somehow."

Max snorted. "It would." The two were sitting together in one of the smaller conference rooms scattered around the academy, this one in the computer sciences building. Very close together, to the point where Dominique was sitting more in Max's lap then her own chair.

They hadn't especially needed to go to the academy, of course. It was hardly the only DEBS facility in Los Angeles. But old habits died hard, and it was the closest. Besides, the school year hadn't actually started, yet, so it wasn't like they were getting in anyone's way. And if familiar surroundings helped them think, no one would object.

It had started innocently enough. A simple robbery of a high tech computer facility. Only one circuit board and almost a warehouse full of wiring had been taken. Odd, yes, but nothing the police shouldn't have been able to handle.

Then there had been another. Metal ore, of different varieties and consistencies. Then another, with the thieves only taking one computer chip. From inside the Pentagon.

It wasn't even until the fourth or fifth such robbery - accounts differed - that anyone even realized they were related. Each theft was done differently, in a different style, and seemingly by different people. Whoever was behind them - assuming it wasn't just a coincidence of massive proportions - clearly didn't want anyone putting things together too soon.

And, annoyingly, they were succeeding. No one could figure out what the hell they were up to, why they were doing it, or even any hints as to who 'they' might be. Over two dozen such thefts, and the best they could come up with was that the person or people responsible was building something... maybe.

And just last night the thieves had struck again - probably - and stolen a huge amount of synthetic diamonds. That had caught Max's attention, if only because of their resident diamond thief, but even if she hadn't been under Amy's close supervision at all times, this really didn't seem Diamond's style.

Besides, she bought and/or stole her toys. She didn't build them herself. Amy had been clear on that.

So Max and her team thought, researched, and basically went around in circles trying to figure something out with almost no clues to go on. Even Amy's skills as a pretender couldn't let her get inside someone's head without some kind of information.

Dominique was getting bored with it. Max could tell, because Dom's fingers had moved slowly up her leg until they'd gotten to the top of her pants, and were now slipping inside. Max reached down and removed the offending limb. "Work before play."

"I assure you, I can do both," Dominique informed her with a sly smile.

"Maybe I can't."

"Shall we find out?"

"Maybe when we're somewhere that Mister P. can't interrupt us at any moment."

Dominique fought down a shudder. That would be like having their father walk in on them. "Very well," she agreed, withdrawing her hand... for the time being. "'owever, I do not believe we are going to accomplish much more sitting 'ere."

That felt too much like admitting defeat to Max, but she had to admit that they just didn't have enough to go on, yet. "May as well go see if the tech girls have come up with anything new," she said, standing - and forcing Dominique to stand with her, lest she become unbalanced.

"After that, perhaps we could go 'ome for lunch? I am... 'ungry," Dominique suggested with a smoldering look that, by all rights, should have set off the smoke detector.

That, Max decided, sounded like the perfect way to work off her frustrations.

**********************************************
0827 hours

Raquel was almost ready to scream from sheer frustration.

If she didn't know better, she might have thought that someone resented her squad taking over as the Sector One team, and was deliberately making things as hard for her as they could.

That was ridiculous, of course. The top squad changed every year, and it was hardly as if the former members were going anywhere. She also recognized, in some distant part of her brain, that her lack of sleep and general irritable mood was making everything seem much worse then it was.

That really did nothing to help calm her down. And frankly, seeing Max and Dominique strolling through the halls as if they had no cares in the world had just made her want to punch someone.

She finally - finally! - had everything squared away. All the forms had been filed, all the red tape had been waded through, every 'i' dotted, every 't' crossed. She was positive that she'd at long last managed to take care of every single possible obstacle to her team assuming their position in a few days.

Even so, she was so wound up that she wanted to either scream, cry, or hit something. Possible all three. What she did instead was to head down to one of the soundproofed interrogations rooms - why there were interrogation rooms in the computer sciences building she didn't know, and didn't especially care just then - fished her Sansa out of her purse (which, along with pockets, she was really going to miss once classes started back up and she had to stick to the academy uniform again), and started to sing. She didn't care what, so long as it had a driving beat. It was angrier then she usually preferred, but it matched her mood perfectly, so she poured every ounce of frustration, irritation, disgust, and resentment that she'd been feeling into her voice.

Several songs later her throat was starting to feel a bit hoarse from all the near-shouting she'd been doing, but she felt better. Cleansed, really. Music had always been her balm, her escape. It had gotten her through a childhood of being her siblings' surrogate mother while her parents had been busy elsewhere. She could understand why Lee...

No. No, not going there. Not unless she wanted to wind herself back up again.

Once she felt she was calm enough, she shut off her Sansa and put it away, then headed back upstairs. She stopped at a drinking fountain long enough to soothe her parched throat, then headed for the exit. The insides of her eyelids felt like sandpaper, and she could hear her bed calling to her even from there. She was so distracted by thoughts of uninterrupted sleep - after so long, she'd almost forgotten what that was like - that she nearly walked face first into Amy Bradshaw.

When she did notice her - them, rather, as she saw that Lucy was there as well - she couldn't help but smile, genuinely happy to see them. She liked Lucy, really, and Amy... Well, Amy was hard not to like. And after... Well, considered them friends. "Oh, hey! What are you doing here?"

Amy smiled back at her. "Hey, Raquel. Just stopping by to check on a couple things."

She nodded. "Well, I won't keep you." Friends or not, she really wanted to go get some sleep.

Amy didn't seem to pick up on that, though. "How have you been, anyway?"

She hesitated. "We're good, for the most part," she said, deliberately choosing to interpret that as an inquiry about the team as a whole. "Bethany's still a bit... Anyway, we're good."

"Good to hear. But how are you, personally?"

Raquel shifted uncomfortably. Given her thoughts over the last several hours, she naturally believed Amy was asking about That Day. "I'm all right. I'm... better I'd been just... having a bad day."

Lucy frowned in confusion. "Huh?"

Really, wasn't talking to Amy about this embarrassing enough? Did Lucy have to be there, too? "I really do appreciate you finding it for me," she said to Amy, absently fingering the slim metal band around her wrist. "And... if I said or did anything in my sleep that might have... Well, I was asleep, so I didn't know you were you, and... Look, I'm just... sorry. And thank you, really." Unable to take any more being stared at, she all but fled down the walkway.

"What the hell was she talking about?" she heard Lucy ask behind her, sounding baffled.

"I'll tell you later." That was the last Raquel heard, but she couldn't help but wince. Not that she'd doubted it, but there it was. Confirmation about her words and (possible) actions. She all but ran for the parking lot, hoping no one stopped her to ask her why her face was so red.

**********************************************
0916 hours

"Hey, Mister P," Amy called with a smile as she poked her head through Phipps' open office door. She caught a glimpse of a swiftly hidden half-smile, and her own widened. She knew that despite her protestations, he'd come to like it when they called him that, and suspected he missed hearing it from her and her team. "Heard you wanted to see us?"

"Come in, both of you," he rumbled. Of course, Amy reflected as she and Lucy entered his office, shutting the door behind them, with a voice like his it was often hard to do anything else. He waited until they'd taken seats in front of his desk before beginning, "I trust by now you're both aware of the recent rash of thefts?"

"Never really liked that term, 'rash of thefts'," Lucy interjected. "Always sounded so... dirty, or diseased."

"Well, we're the cops, baby," Amy replied, sounding vaguely amused. "How else would we view it?" To Phipps, she said, "Yes, we are. We ran into Janet on the way up." And that was really all she needed to say on that front. If there was one thing Janet was good at, it was bringing her teammates up to speed on things.

Ignoring the previous byplay, Phipps nodded. "What you may not know is that last night there was another theft, this time of a rather staggering amount of synthetic diamonds." He handed Amy the folder that held the report on it while giving Lucy an inquiring look.

"Synthetic diamonds?!" Her mouth twisted in disgust. "Who'd want to steal fake diamonds?" She never had, that was for certain. The one time she had stolen a fake - a good one, admittedly, but still a fake - she'd actually returned it with a very unamused note.

"I was hoping you might be able to tell us," Phipps replied evenly.

"Sorry, but it was only ever the real thing for this girl." She didn't even like cubic zirconia.

He nodded. "That's about what I expected you'd say, but I had to ask. If you happen to think of anybody that would want them, though..."

"You'll be the first to know." Because anyone who would steal synthetic diamonds deserved to be in jail. "Well, okay, she'll be the first," she amended, with a nod in Amy's direction.

She paused when she noticed that Amy was staring down at the file in front of her, looking like she wasn't really seeing it. And it may have been the lighting, but she also seemed a bit pale. "Amy? You all right?"

Amy blinked and visibly shook herself out of her fugue state. "Yeah, fine." And anyone who wasn't Lucy might have actually been fooled by that.

"Really?"

"Yes, really. Just..." She hesitated. "I don't know. Something about this seems... familiar, sort of?" She shook her head, putting on a smile. "It's probably nothing."

Lucy and Phipps actually exchanged a look. Neither one especially believed that, and they both knew that when Amy started getting evasive about things, it didn't generally lead anywhere positive. They also both knew, though, that if Amy didn't want to tell them something, they wouldn't find out what it was until she felt good and ready to share. The woman was a master at deflection and stonewalling. "If you're sure," Lucy began slowly.

"I honestly don't know right now," Amy told her, and Lucy could tell that she meant it. "It's like there's something in the back of my mind, but I can't pin it down."

"I hate that feeling," Lucy said sympathetically. "Hope it shakes itself loose soon, if there's actually something there at all. I'd hate to have to resort to, like, hypnosis or something."

And she had no idea why Phipps seemed to shudder slightly at that, while Amy shifted in what might have been guilt.

**********************************************
1401 hours

Watch Me Shine - Joanna Pacitti

(A/N: Okay, as with Immune, if you can't hear the entire song, open this - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oFf8Y51VDXI - in a separate tab/window/whatever, as you really need to hear the whole thing.)

She finally felt more or less human.

After five more hours of sleep - give or take - and a few cups of coffee, Raquel finally felt awake enough to face the day. Her normal routine was pretty much blown all to hell by this point, so she decided to improvise a bit.

She started out with a few laps around the school's track to get herself warmed up. It felt good to be moving again, the day was sunny and warm with a nice breeze, and the smog count was low. It was about as perfect a day as one was likely to find in Los Angeles, and she intended to enjoy it as best she could.

Well, enjoy it while still running through her revised exercise program, anyway.

She waved to a few people she knew as she jogged, not wanting to tire herself out by running just yet.

That would come later.

After she decided she'd jogged enough for the time being, she headed into the gym. She started with the chin-up bar, which this time was courteous enough to stay where it belonged. She pushed all her thoughts and worries out of her mind, paid no attention to anyone else nearby, and concentrated on nothing but the bar.

And she wasn't really leaving the ground, she told herself. She was just... hovering, briefly.

She did not need her rampant acrophobia bringing her day crashing back down on her.

After completing her normal set, she moved over to the punching bag. She was almost tempted to imagine Bethany's face over it... but no.

Jab, jab, right cross, upper cut, kick... She could only practice so much against a static opponent, of course, but she wanted to make sure she got the moves right, first.

Given her height and petite stature, she'd generally found that aikido was best suited for her. Sometimes that wasn't an option, though, and she didn't want her moves to become too easy to predict, so she'd thrown in a little kickboxing, as well. She'd also added in just a dash of Gatka, because...

Well, she wasn't going there just then, either.

An empty practice mat gave her plenty of space to run through the rest of her routine, and she soon lost herself in the movements. Throws, twists, joint locks... They weren't quite where she wanted them to be, but she was willing to attribute that to her screwed up schedule.

Not that she didn't plan on keeping at it until she got it right... and then continuing on long after that.

She was mildly startled when she was interrupted by Dan Ellsbury, the DEBS academy's resident martial arts instructor. She knew he'd been planning on starting lessons for those who'd arrived early as soon as he had enough participants, but had expected that they would have been held earlier in the day.

She didn't mind, though. She readily left the mat so he could begin, and observed the lesson. Her fellow DEBS had obviously either been neglecting their training, or had just preferred to focus on firearms. She was heading over to the shooting gallery later on herself, but still...

Well, as good as Dan was, he couldn't force them to learn. And if they thought that where they were was good enough, then she was just going to have to show them how very, very wrong they were.

So the next time he asked for a volunteer, she stepped forward.

This was an armed combat exercise, so she selected a bo staff, her usual weapon of choice in the dojo. She knew she was skilled enough that she could have adapted to whatever he chose for himself - she'd learned that the hard way in Japan, three months earlier, against ninjas weilding all manner of weaponry - but was pleased when he mirrored her choice.

Based on his surprised - though pleased - reaction when she parried his initial strikes effortlessly, she decided she must have improved since they'd last sparred.

The match drew on for almost three times as long as even the best of the other students had lasted, with no clear victor in sight. She was aware of a low murmuring in the crowd, but paid it no heed. "I hope you're not holding back," she commented. "You know how I feel about that." She landed a blow on his knuckles that must have stung, and he hissed in a breath.

"Yes, you've made that quite clear," he replied, amusement evident in his tone.

"Good." She did her best to imitate a move she'd seen Nayana pull off in Japan, and while she knew she didn't get it quite right, she still managed to surprise Dan enough to knock his staff from his hands, and raise the end of hers to his throat. He smiled and inclined his head, conceeding the match. They exchanged bows and she left the mat, ignoring the crowd as she walked away.

She was getting better, she knew that. And it was always nice to face off against an opponent that was happy even if he lost, because that meant his lessons were sinking in. But if that had been a real fight, she wasn't certain she would have been able to win.

She was going to have to work on that.

She headed over to the firing range next. She couldn't match Kathleen when it came to precision shooting, and suspected that all the training in the world wouldn't change that. Given that Kathy practiced with various guns constantly, that was understandable, and she was all right with that. Different people had different skill sets, after all, and as sometimes tempting as it was to try and learn how to take care of everything by herself... Well, that wasn't the way the DEBS worked.

Besides, that sounded far too much like pushing herself too far, and Amy was right in that she would just end up defeating herself that way long before the bad guys ever could.

And really... It wasn't like she was a bad shot, or anything. Maybe she wasn't the best, but she was still pretty damned good, if she said so herself.

And since she was the only one out on the firing range, she pretty much had to say so herself.

She took something of a break after that, sitting on a patch of grass out near the empty track with a book open across her lap. If she wanted to do this right, be the leader her team deserved, then she had to keep her mind in as good shape as she kept her body.

Once she'd gotten her books for the semester, she'd begun reading through them, working ahead to make sure she understood it all. It wasn't always easy, especially while also trying to maintain her... extracurricular studies, but she reasoned that if she started working on schoolwork early, she could do it at a pace of her own choosing, and her head start would let her continue that schedule for a while even after classes started.

She smiled as she finally worked through a complex equation that had been bothering her for days.

Maybe, despite its rough start, this would be a good day, after all.

After a bit more studying, it was back onto the track. This time, though, she ran. It was as much for fun as it was exercise, really, by that point. There was an almost primal joy in running, and the wind in her hair only made it better.

Her legs were starting to feel rubbery by the time she finished, a clear signal that she might have overdone it a bit... again. She'd limit herself to a short jog tomorrow, she decided.

Balance, that was the key.

**********************************************
1627 hours

"You seem... calmer," Kathleen said cautiously as she chopped up a cucumber for the salad that she was making to go along with the steaks that Monica would be cooking on the grill later on - that being one of her few culinary skills.

Raquel, who'd been sitting at the kitchen table and entertaining herself by looking through a physics book of some kind - she didn't seem to understand much of it, but that didn't seem to be bothering her - looked up at her and smiled. "A little sleep does wonders for a girl."

"Clearly. And don't worry, Bethany's already promised that she won't be going out anywhere tonight."

"Good to hear." And it certainly was that. "But I think I got the message across that we weren't doing that again after the last time."

"You certainly did that," Bethany said as she entered the kitchen, maintaining a wary distance from Raquel... much to Kathleen's amusement. "Believe me, I got the point." Because waking up naked and sprawled on her bed with a humongous hangover and finding a note on her comm that said "If I have to wash anymore... anything out of your hair, I'm going to fucking shave it off!" -Raquel did tend to drive the message home quite thoroughly. "What have you been using on my hair, anyway? Because I like it."

Looking vaguely amused, Raquel nonetheless answered, "Pantene Pro-V. Not what I use, but a quick internet search made that seem like the best choice for you."

"Yeah, you have always had the softest hair of everyone I know," Kathleen agreed as she turned to face Raquel. She was about to continue when she noticed something. "You cut your hair!"

Raquel paused for a moment, then took a slow breath. "Yes, Kathleen, I cut my hair." Another pause. "Three weeks ago."

"I wasn't here three weeks ago," Kathleen defended. "And we haven't seen each other much over the past few days." She looked at Bethany.

The blonde frowned. "What? I noticed." Exactly when she noticed she didn't say. "You don't usually make a fuss out of getting a haircut, though, so I didn't say anything."

"I don't want you to make a fuss," Raquel agreed. But the idea that her team could miss something so simple and obvious as the fact that she'd lost seven or eight inches of hair didn't exactly inspire her with confidence.

Well, they had a few days, yet. Not a lot of time, granted, but it wasn't like they had to start from scratch or anything. Her team was good. They were damn good. All she had to do was snap them back into agent mode.

Barring any serious catastrophes, she was certain they could do it.

Huzzah! The move into my new apartment is at long last completed! (Sure, I still have a LOT of unpacking to do, but it's not like there's a rush to get that done.) The muse is pleased.

Oh, and she may not make a fuss out of getting her hair cut, but she does look different enough to warrant a new pic, I think. (That, and Vanessa Hudgens is just really cute, and I hardly mind including one. ;) )

Vanessa Hudgens reprising her role as Raquel García Méndez.

Next time - Amy's fears are crystallized when a certain someone is abducted, and on a mission, Raquel has more trouble with her team then she does the bad guys.

It's not an update, but it is something...

2009-05-03T17:11:54Z

My first attempt at an actual music video. May not be the best ever, but... Well, hopefully you'll like it. Just wanted to make sure you guys knew I hadn't forgotten about you. ^_^

Cherry Blossom: Revisited Chapter 4 - (04/05/2009)

2009-04-05T06:10:41Z

I know! I'm as stunned as you are! An actual update!

Maybe it's the muse's birthday present to me?

Title: Cherry Blossom: Revisited (chapter 4/?)

Author: That'd be me. *grins* Andrew, Obsidian, call me what you want. But only if it's nice. ;)

Rating: R. And not for the usual reason, either. ;)

Comments: Most of you already know why I haven't updated in ages, so let's just move on, shall we?

Legal Disclaimer: I do not own 'D.E.B.S.', Angela Robinson does. Though if I had my way, there would have been a sequel or two by now. ;)

"Stop that."

The two words were simply spoken, in a calm, level tone. Even so, Scud, who had been drumming his fingers on the armrest of his chair, froze. He deliberately laid his hand flat on it before turning to the speaker. "Sorry. I'm just..."

"I know, Scud," Lucy assured him. "I'm worried about her, too." Worried enough to break out one of her newest toys, a V-22 Osprey she'd "acquired" from the United States Marine Corps and equipped with a still mostly experimental stealth technology.

It wasn't the fastest mode of transportation that she had - that particular honor went to the SR-71 Blackbird that she'd won in a poker game - but it had been the best choice, given the available limitations. All of her other available choices either took too long to get ready, needed runway space that wouldn't be available on the island, didn't have enough passenger space for Diane to fit onboard (which would have rather defeated the purpose of going at all), or weren't fast enough.

There hadn't been much in the way of conversation on the flight to the island. Her comment to Scud had been the first thing either of them had said in hours. All things considered, that was hardly surprising.

It had only been a few months since Diane had joined Lucy's organization, but in that time she'd really become part of the group. Lucy didn't let people in all that easily after what had happened to her family, so that was no small feat. Diane had just fit in so perfectly, almost becoming the sister that Lucy had never had. Diane and Scud, though...

Shortly after Diane had left for her current mission, Lucy had decided that if one of them didn't make some kind of move soon, she might just have to lock them in a room and have done with it. Of course, whatever it was that was happening on the island might just take care of that for her. If they didn't get together after this... Well, they just wouldn't get together, period.

Given that they were flying headlong into a dangerous situation that had rattled the unflappable Diane, that thought ended up being a lot more ominous in her head then she'd intended.

Shaking it off as best she could, she refocused on the situation at hand. They were about ten minutes out from the island, now. The jamming field was still in place, though the fluctuations had become more severe. That likely indicated something was wrong with the power source, though the fact that no one had fixed the problem was puzzling. Diane hadn't exactly sounded like she'd had Black Dragon on the ropes when they'd talked, so if something was wrong, it was unlikely she'd had anything to do with it.

Which wasn't good. Getting her out of there alive and in one piece was going to be hard enough without adding in any unpredictable variables. And while chaos of any kind might just make it a little easier to sneak in and out before anyone knew they were there, it would also make it harder for Diane to stay alive until they could get there. And she didn't want to think about the alternative.

That was hard, though. Ever since they'd taken off, the pilot had been trying to raise Diane on the radio. Yet, even when the jamming field was at its weakest, they hadn't gotten any kind of response. Frankly, given the sheer volume of radio signals they'd been sending at the island, she couldn't help but feel that someone should have heard something. But there hadn't been any replies.

At all.

From anyone.

She'd known other 'supervillains' in the past - either working with them or against them - and she knew that even without any interference from the good guys, accidents or sabotage could happen. People died. But when the entire base went silent, something was very, very wrong.

She leaned toward the pilot's station. "Has there been any activity to or from the island, that we've been able to see?" she asked, having to raise her voice a bit to be heard.

"No, ma'am," he replied. "Of course, we have been in radar range for only about twenty minutes, but we haven't picked up on anything."

If there was trouble of the kind she was imagining on the island... he should have. Black Dragon wasn't stupid. If he was, she would have been able to take care of him years ago. If everything was going to hell, he would not want to stick around and watch from anything less then a safe distance. Unless he has stealth technology, too... She swiftly dismissed the thought. The kind of technology she was using was experimental, after all. Not to mention, the Osprey came with sensors that let it see right through anyone using the same kind of tricks. Which meant that anyone in the military or government who had the same thing would be able to pick her up, of course, which was another reason she hadn't used the Osprey for anything before this.

So either he'd escaped long before the situation had become critical... or he hadn't escaped at all.

She didn't know which of those would be worse for Diane. "Are you sure you're going to have enough fuel to wait around long enough for us to pick up Diane, and make it all the way home?"

"You're just asking about that now?!" Scud cut in, eyes wide.

She hid a smile. Actually, no, she wasn't just asking about it now. She'd checked and double-checked before they'd ever lifted off that they'd be able to make it home, she just needed to make sure that there hadn't been any unforeseen problems that would have changed things. But maybe she'd wait until later to mention that to Scud. His reaction was priceless, and she had the sneaking suspicion that humor would be in short supply for a while.

"Don't worry, ma'am, there's a small, uninhabited atoll a few miles to the east where we can set down. It'll take a couple of minutes after you call for us to get to you, when you're ready to go."

"Why are you landing anywhere else at all?" Scud demanded. "We're just going there to pick up Diane and leave... right?"

"Of course we are." Lucy had no intention of trying to launch any kind of attack against Black Dragon until she'd thoroughly debriefed Diane on what was going on, and that wouldn't even begin until they were at least several minutes away from the island. "But it's been five hours, and she'd not answering out transmissions anymore. Obviously, she had to leave wherever she'd found that radio she called us on, so chances are that she had to keep moving. She may not have been able to make it to the rendezvous point, in which case we'll have to go looking for her, and I don't want out ride home compromised." Black Dragon had almost caught her once that way, after all, and Lucy Diamond was not the sort of woman who made the same mistake twice.

Scud didn't look happy, but he nodded, seeing the sense of it. That didn't seem to be the case when the pilot informed them that they were three minutes away from the drop zone. ""Drop'? What do you mean, 'drop'? Why aren't we landing?"

"This way saves time and fuel," Lucy told him. As expected, though he still didn't look happy, he didn't argue, wanting to get to Diane as fast as possible.

Of course, Lucy didn't mention the other reason she wanted to do it this way. Even during the best of times, Scud wouldn't have really appreciated it.

Even if it wasn't from all that high up, jumping from a plane was just more fun.

"Ma'am!" The shout from the pilot caught her in the act of rising to go strap herself into her chute, and she turned to see what had caught his attention.

"Well..." She shook her head as she laid eyes on the rising pillar of thick black smoke rising from one corner of the island. At a loss for anything else to say, she continued, "...that can't be good."

All any of them could do was hope that Diane hadn't been anywhere near whatever was producing all that smoke.

**********************************************
Her ears still ringing from the deafening blast, Amy stumbled through the bush. Her head felt a bit hazy, leading her to wonder if she hadn't been momentarily knocked out. She didn't think she had a concussion, though, which was definitely a good thing.

After the mission in Wyoming - frankly, she was lucky she hadn't fractured her skull - she did not want to go through that again anytime soon.

Unfortunately, the sound of the explosion had attracted whatever zombies - oh, that still felt weird to think - that hadn't already been after them, and in their dazed and confused state, they'd gotten separated as they ran for their lives.

Bobby was with her, but she wasn't sure which way everyone else had gone, and she must have smacked her comm harder into the ground then she'd thought, because she couldn't get it to work. Bobby's had vanished as well, and a tiny streak of blood coming from his ear indicated that the disappearance hadn't been all that gentle.

"Where the hell are we going?" she demanded as they raced through the jungle, trying to ignore the omnidirectional sound of hungry moaning.

"If we can find Black Dragon's compound, we might be able to find a way off this island," he replied, only glancing at her occasionally to make sure she was still with him. "Or a radio, or more ammo... something!"

"At this point, I'd take anything." She didn't enjoy being reminded that they were now limited to whatever ammunition they'd been carrying during the search. Sure, that meant they each had several spare clips, but... Against an entire island of those things?

Where was a minigun when you actually needed one?

"I just hope the others are thinking the same thing," she said, trying to pretend that it wasn't getting harder to breathe as they ran along at top speed... and just kept running. "That Diane person should know where it is. Hopefully, she can get them there safely." Assuming she hadn't made use of the distraction to slip away from the government agents. It was obvious that she wasn't exactly on the right side of the law, even though they might have had the same goal at the moment. "It'd be nice if they could be there waiting for us."

"Yeah, but we can't count on that."

She shot him a dark look even as she ducked under a low-hanging branch. "I'm not 'counting on it'. But forgive me for not wanting to think about my friends being murdered and eaten."

"What, you think I do? But we have to be prepared for that!"

"Being prepared for it and thinking of nothing but that are two different things!"

"I'm not-"

"Shh!" Alerted by the abrupt change of her tone, he looked back to see her slowing down as she raised her gun, peering suspiciously off into the jungle. "I think I see something," she said softly.

He jogged back a few steps to join her. "More of them?"

She shook her head. "No. Looks like another cave opening."

"Right, because the last one was so much fun."

She cocked her head at him a bit, one corner of her mouth pulling up. "The last one didn't have an armed guard."

That seemed to catch his interest. "Sounds worth a look. How do you wanna play this?"

She considered that for a moment. "I need your backup weapon. I'll go out there, pretend to surrender, and try to get him to talk. If that doesn't work, or I can't restrain him after I question him, I'll give you a clear shot."

"Sounds like a plan," he agreed. "Why my backup, though," he asked as he fished it out from his leg holster.

"In case something goes wrong, and I'm still in the way."

Plan decided, Amy quickly headed toward the small clearing around the cave, while Bobby got into position as fast as he could without sacrificing any stealth. Both were far too aware of the hordes that could be bearing down on them even at that moment.

"Hello?" Amy called to the guard, who had to be sweltering in his dark green pants and camo T-shirt. The guard turned to face her slowly, and given everything they'd both gone through up to that point, they could understand his wariness. "Look, I don't want a fight," Amy told him, holding onto her gun's barrel as she extended it out away from her, then lowered it to the ground. Keeping her hands raised where he could see them, she continued forward at a steady pace, making no sudden moves. "There's no way in hell I'm staying out there with all of those... those things wandering around!"

The guard didn't reply, though it did begin heading her way. Bobby began getting a bad feeling about the whole thing.

"I think that..." Amy trailed off, freezing in place for two long seconds as she studied the guard closely. Then she suddenly reached behind her, grabbed Bobby's backup 9 mm from where she'd tucked it into the waistband of her pants against her spine and pulled her shirt over it, and proceeded to whip it out and fire off one shot that caught the guard right between the eyes.

Shit! He'd been afraid of that. It was surprising that the zombified guard had actually stayed at what was presumably his post while all the other activity on the island had been going on, but weird things happened. Unfortunately, that gunshot was bound to draw more attention down on them, so he abandoned his cover to dash forward, scooping up Amy's abandoned gun as he ran.

She turned to face him, even as moans started up again from what sounded like a few yards away in every direction. No sooner had he tossed her gun to her - earning him something of a dirty look for being so careless with live firearms - then a veritable army of the things began shuffling out of the foliage. "Into the cave!" Amy called, gunning down a few of them before fitting action to words.

They might be able to hold them off for a while that way, he knew. At the very least, it would make it a bit harder for the horde to get at them, and would make picking them off easier. The problem was, he was fairly certain there were more of them then they had bullets. And the closer they got, the more the time that lining up shots and reloading would cost them. They had to try something else.

Luckily, the cave opening itself did give them a few options. There was a gate that could be drawn across it - likely what had prompted Amy's decision to fall back into it in the first place - but there was no way it could be sturdy enough to take their determined battering for long.

Only one thing for it, then.

He ran for the cave opening, and pulled the gate shut... while he was still outside it. Ignoring Amy's shout of "What are you doing?!" he broke off the key in the lock, then dashed forward. "Get farther back in the cave, see if there's a way out!" he shouted at her, not bothering at all to keep his voice down anymore. "I'll draw their attention! And for the love of God, keep quiet!"

A moving target would be harder for them to get a hold of then a stationary one, so he charged toward a thin spot in their lines, shouting at the top of his lungs and blowing the heads off of two of them. Amy, either accepting his decision or going into shock, said nothing. A quick look back at the cave showed she wasn't at the entrance, though he did catch sight of a shadow on the wall near where it curved to the left that indicated she hadn't gone far.

Well, hopefully that would do. He couldn't spare any further attention to worry about her.

There were just so damned many of the things! Before he could even escape into the jungle - if that would have actually provided any shelter - he was surrounded, and no matter how many of them he put down, two more always showed up to take their places.

Then came the sound he'd been dreading hearing: the quiet click, click of an empty weapon.

They dragged him down before he even had a chance to reload.

**********************************************
To Lucy's annoyance, whether it was the warm air from the burning helicopter - it looked like it might have been one of those big cargo jobs, which told her nothing about who it belonged to or what had happened to it - or just a tropical air current, she and Scud had been carried away from each other, without enough time to correct their descent before they hit the treetops.

She detached herself from her harness, dropping a few feet to the jungle floor. "Scud, you still with me?"

"Copy that, Boss," he replied. The comms, thankfully, had survived intact. The faint crackling static in the background, though, indicated that Black Dragon's jamming field was still in place, and that Scud's hastily set up attempts at countermeasures wouldn't be as effective as they'd hoped.

Well, as long as they could hear each other, she'd take it. "I think I'm about a mile away from you."

A faint, rueful chuckle. "We did drift a bit, didn't we?"

She snorted. "Yeah, one might say. I saw a little clearing with what looked like a cave opening as I was coming down. It's not that far from me, so I'm going to go check it out. You head for the rendezvous point. Yell if you spot anything - and I mean anything."

"Copy that." A pause. "Good luck, Luce."

"To us all," she replied, then closed the channel.

She had a feeling they'd be needing it.

That feeling was reinforced when she nearly tripped over a few bodies laying along the path she'd been taking. They looked like natives, and judging by how decomposed they seemed, they must have been there for a while. It struck her as being senseless and tragic, but there was nothing she could do for them, and she still had to find Diane. She gave the corpses a last, apologetic look as she walked around them and continued on her way.

A few minutes later, she came upon two more. This time, she noticed that both had been dispatched by gunshots to the head, and that at least one had obvious evidence of having been... bitten, by something.

Really not liking the possibilities that suggested, she again hurried by them.

She did, however, take a moment to make sure the safety on her gun was off.

She was being silly, she told herself. Not about keeping her gun ready - on Black Dragon's turf that was only common sense - but about the ideas trying to creep into her head. If there was one thing she was certain of, it was that there was no such thing as-

The thought was cut off as a zombie lurched out of the bushes at her.

She wasted three shots into its chest. For a moment, she thought that would put it down - it certainly was enough to make it stagger back and gurgle, blood flowing freely from the bullet-inflicted wounds - but it recovered and started for her again, moaning in hunger, seemingly unaware of the fact that all logic demanded it be laying on the ground, dead.

Fuck it. She shot it in the head.

She almost moaned herself when it did, indeed, fall to the ground, lifeless.

"Oh, now come on!" That probably should have been quieter then it had been, but she couldn't help it.

Zombies? Seriously? Zombies? She wanted to believe this was some kind of joke, but... Well, the evidence was right there in front of her eyes. And - her face screwed up in disgust as the breeze picked up for a second - her nose.

It would also go a long way to explaining why Diane had sounded so panicked when she'd called them. Fucking zombies would rattle anyone's composure. Flicking on her comm, she said, "Scud, you there?"

"Yeah. Was that you?"

She inhaled deeply, regretted it almost immediately, and set about putting some distance between her and the no-longer-walking-dead. "Yeah. I think I know what had Di so spooked." As quickly as she could, she outlined the encounter she'd just had for him.

There was a long pause, then, "Are you shitting me?"

She gave a humorless laugh. "Don't I wish. The guy wasn't actually dead before I put one in his brain, but if you ignore little things like his still breathing, he made one damn convincing zombie. And if those other bodies I found were the same thing..."

She could almost hear him shudder. "Yikes. Well, if we needed any more of a reason to find Di and get gone, I think we just got it."

"Definitely. I'm almost at the cave. You be careful."

"I'd tell you to do the same, but I do remember who I'm talking to."

"Cute." She closed the channel, allowing herself a small smile. It faded quickly enough when she got to the clearing.

There were more bodies, these evidently killed by a larger caliber weapon. The cave looked like it had been covered by a gate of some kind, which had been knocked inward. There wasn't any noise.

At all.

She frowned at that. She hadn't noticed it at first, but this was the quietest damned jungle she'd ever been in - and she'd been in quite a few. Even the normal jungle sounds were missing. Scared quiet by whatever those things were?

That wasn't a pleasant thought, given how many of them there'd have to be for that to be the case.

The destroyed gate indicated that a number of them had obviously been intent on getting into that cave. To her, that indicated that someone might just have been hiding in there.

Someone like Diane.

Taking a moment to wonder what the hell she'd been thinking wearing black to a tropical island - that much was easy to answer; she hadn't been thinking, she'd just wanted to get to Diane as quickly as was possible - she carefully trudged forward.

The cave was almost twenty degrees cooler, which was a profound relief. Keeping her gun at the ready, she moved forward. She was so intent on watching for any sign of those things that she almost didn't notice when the floor abruptly stopped in front of her.

She jerked to a halt just in time. It looked like a five-foot section of the ground had just given way, leaving a hole that dropped down about seven feet. She did have the rope to get down there, as well as means of anchoring it. And if Diane had come into this cave, then that was likely where she'd gone. And even if it wasn't, she had to make sure. And whatever was in these rocks was screwing up her infrared detector's sensors, so she had to investigate it the old fashioned way.

Securing her rope carefully, she slowly descended into the cave beneath the cave. The subcave? Oh, whatever. She hesitated for a long second before unclipping herself as she just stood there, listening.

Nothing.

I am so taking a vacation after we get home, she decided. She unhooked herself from the rope, took a chemical light out of her pack and activated it, then slowly moved forward. Interestingly, the tunnel dead ended right below the hole, indicating that the above cave floor was so weakened that it had collapsed as soon as someone had stepped onto it. That supported the theory that Di hadn't gone any further in the cave above.

She followed the claustrophobia-inducing tunnel for about half a minute, until she almost tripped over the bodies. A number of the things were laying in a heap at the opening to a wider cave. The greenish light from the plastic tube in her hand made their partially decomposed skin look even more disturbing. But why were they all draped atop one another like this, as if-

Understanding dawned even as the figure in the cave, slumped down against the far wall, raised a gun and fired right at her head.

I could apologize a thousand times for how neglected my poor stories have been, but I'm not sure that would be enough. So I'll just try to make it up to you by giving you quality updates. ^_^

A rare non-fiction update.

2009-04-04T03:52:21Z

I know, I know, it's been a while since I've posted anything here. As some of you may know, there are a few reasons for that, with the muse not liking winter being only one of them. I've been having a little computer trouble again, and since the last time that happened I had to buy an entirely new hard drive for my computer, this makes me nervous. Also, I've been in the beginning stages of moving (that is, looking for an apartment), and this is also distracting. Add to that having to work a very unfulfilling job at Wal-Mart (I've actually been looking for freelance writing work online, but as you can guess, that just takes up even more of my time) and the fact that the sister I see maybe a few times out of the year seems to care more about my upcoming birthday then the rest of my family put together (or much of anyone else, really), and maybe you can understand what's taking me so long.

I don't want to make excuses (God knows, there's probably been a fair bit of laziness in there somewhere, too), but I thought that those who actually read my fic - and there must be SOME of you out there that do ;) - might want to know that I haven't forgotten about you.

Oh, and for the one or two of you that might care - and you know who you are - my Amazon.com wishlist can be found here:

.

(Please note, this is not an attempt to ask for bribes or payment of any kind. Most of you can - and should, and probably will even without my saying anything - ignore that. Okay? Okay.)

Sadhana (2/2) (2/09/2009)

2009-02-10T06:16:55Z

Well, it took some doing, but I finally managed to track down, capture, and drag back the muse. The result was this. I just hope people still care about it after so long.

Title: Sadhana

Author: That'd be me. *grins* Andrew, Obsidian, call me what you want. But only if it's nice. ;)

Rating: PG-13, I'd say.

Comments: Another year, another Christmas story, right? This time, though... Well, it's going to be an AU of my AU story, which is a little weird, but in a good way, you know? Besides, the girls deserve this. This story ignores the events of Prometheus Unbound completely, picking up several months after the conclusion of Pantheon.

Also, you may not have noticed, but all of my DEBS stories tend to have theme naming schemes unique to each series. The De Profundis-verse has Latin titles, while the Parallax-verse will be using astronomical terms. The Pantheon-verse, obviously, uses mythological terminology, and this story is no exception. Sadhana (Sanskrit साधनम्, Hindi: साधना) is a Hindi term for "a means of accomplishing something" or more specifically "spiritual practice". It includes a variety of disciplines from Hindu and Buddhist traditions that are followed in order to achieve various spiritual or ritual objectives. The word is also used in the same connection within Sikhism. I think you can figure out for yourselves who it's referring to. ;)

Oh, and I'm trying something new this time around. Hold your mouse over the italicized text, and you should see a translation... if I did this right.

Apologies: Damn you, muse!

Legal Disclaimer: I do not own 'D.E.B.S.', Angela Robinson does. Though if I had my way, there would have been a sequel or two by now. ;)

Los Angeles, California
December 23rd

The party had been going on for an hour, and thus far there had been no sign of a hitch.

There had also been no sign of Raquel, though she had called and said she was on her way. Called from where, exactly, nobody knew - or if they did, they weren't talking. She hadn't really given any explanation for her disappearance the day before, save to say that she needed to go pick up something important, and would be back for the party.

Amy, standing near the refreshment table and sipping on a glass of punch, wisely kept her mouth shut.

"You know," Lucy commented as she slipped an arm around her girlfriend's waist, "it's not that I always considered DEBS social functions to be boring or anything, but..."

"But you were expecting something more lively?" Amy finished for her. Lucy nodded. "I get that, but keep in mind, this is Christmas. And most of the academy has already gone home to be with their families. You want exciting, you should be here for Halloween." She chuckled. "Now that can get nuts."

She had to admit, she liked what the new Sector 1 team had done in terms of decorating. Gone were the omnipresent strands of garland, stockings, and lights - inside and outside - that Janet used to insist on. Rather then risking garishness, they had gone for subtle: they did have a tree, but they hadn't overloaded it, instead preferring to go with white lights and a number of select ornaments. There were a few small statues around, as well as a manger scene tucked in a corner where it could be noticed easily, but wasn't in anyone's way. Soft music was playing from hidden speakers, alternating between Christmas carols, jazz songs, and even a few classical pieces.

Interestingly, there was also a menorah above the fireplace - which, for the first time in years, had an actual fire burning in it - and she wondered which of them had put it up. She was reasonably certain it wasn't Raquel or Monica, but couldn't narrow it down more then that.

The place was... cozy.

And while she knew it had been unintentional, everyone present had dressed in clothing that complimented the effect nicely. She herself had worn a dark red skirt (Lucy had informed her that covering legs like hers was a crime, stating that as a former criminal she knew things like that) and a white blouse, while Lucy was wearing tan slacks (Amy having forbid her from wearing leather on the grounds that she would not be held responsible for her actions, and this was supposed to be a Christmas party and a soft forest green sweater that Amy was finding it hard not to touch.

Of course, this was doing precious little to deter her natural inclination to have her hands on Lucy. For some odd reason, the ex-thief didn't seem to mind this at all.

It surprised her, as it frequently did, just how happy she felt when she was with Lucy. Granted, happiness wasn't something she was accustomed to given her childhood at The Centre, as well as having to lie to pretty much everyone in her life after her escape. Having someone she could be open and honest with, no matter what, did help, but... Well, it was more then that. Even if she had been used to feeling happy, she was certain she'd still be surprised by this. It was so simple and uncomplicated, even pure. She loved Lucy, and being together made her happy. She had to occasionally fight down her natural inclination to figure out just why that was, and remind herself to just enjoy it.

It was love. It didn't need to make sense.

"I'm almost afraid to ask," Lucy said, bringing Amy back to the conversation.

"As well you should be," Amy replied with as serious an expression as she could manage. She gave in to an impulse to run her hand down Lucy's arm, enjoying both the feel of the cashmere sweater (which she thought Janet also owned, though in mauve) and the slight shiver she detected from Lucy in response to her action.

Simple pleasures, Amy decided, could not be overstated. "Thank you," she said randomly.

"For what?" Lucy asked, confused. She couldn't think of anything she'd done recently that Amy might thank her for.

"Being you. Loving me. Making me happy. Take your pic, really," Amy said softly, wrapping her arms around Lucy's waist from behind and giving her a loving squeeze.

"That," Lucy said as she turned and gently pressed her lips against Amy's, "is something you will never have to thank me for. Believe me, it's my privilege to do so."

For a moment, Amy regretted that they couldn't leave, yet. But then, holding Lucy in her arms as she looked out across the semi-crowded living room, smiling as she caught sight of Dominique and Max cuddling on the couch (and Max Brewer cuddling at all, let alone not caring who saw her, was almost as big of a Christmas miracle as the fact that Dominique was actually wearing a black dress that actually reached her knees), Monica smiling shyly as she whispered something to Kathleen over near the stairs, or the sheer cuteness of Janet convincing Scud to try and take the Christmas-themed Oreo from her lips using nothing but his own...

She realized she wouldn't have wanted to be anywhere other then exactly where she was.

**********************************************
"Have I mentioned lately just how much I love you?" Monica asked.

"I think it's been a few minutes," Kathleen replied with a fond smile. "I suppose it's just as well that Raquel's not back yet, though. That might have served as a song cue."

Monica laughed, which Kathleen privately considered more music to her ears then anything Raquel might ever come up with. "Oh, maybe. But considering how down she's been lately, I don't think I'd mind."

"True enough." Kathleen gave her girlfriend a peck on the lips... or that was her intention, anyway. One second, one minute... Close enough, right?

Right.

"Still, though," Monica said after they paused for breath. "I just... I want her to be happy."

"I think we all do."

"Oh, I know, I know. But who knows what it'll take to make Raquel really, truly happy?"

"Did I hear my name mentioned?"

They both started at the unexpected question, and turned to see Raquel standing near them with a grin on her face. "When did you get back?" Kathleen asked as they pulled her into a three-way hug.

"About... one-and-a-half minutes ago," Raquel said as she looked at her watch, then took a few steps back. "I trust everything went smoothly while I was gone?"

"Well, you weren't gone all that long, but yeah, no bad guys, no missions, no classes... I'd say it was quite peaceful." Kathleen studied her for a long moment. "Where did you go, anyway?" Because she looked so much more at peace and happy then she had when she'd left.

"Um, Kathy..." Monica began, but Kathleen waved a hand vaguely at her, wanting to hear Raquel's answer.

For some reason, Raquel looked like she was fighting down a laugh. "I had to go see someone."

"I thought you said you had to go get something, or something like that?"

"Oh, I'd say she 'got something', all right," Monica muttered, lips twitching. Raquel raised a hand to her mouth, her shoulders shaking once as she nearly lost the battle to restrain her laughter.

Kathleen gave her girlfriend a puzzled glance. "What are you talking ab-" She broke off abruptly as she realized just what - or rather, who - Monica was looking at over Raquel's shoulder.

Grinning as she saw the realization dawn on Kathleen's face, Raquel took hold of Nayana's arms and slipped them around her waist. "She followed me home," she said, then perkily chirped, "Can I keep her?"

Kathleen's intelligent response to that sounded suspiciously like, "Um... I, ah..."

Monica nudged her with her hip. "Merry Christmas," she told Nayana politely.

"Nollaig Shona Duit," Nayana replied evenly.

Monica blinked in surprise. "I didn't know you spoke Irish."

She shrugged. "Gaelic isn't that terribly complicated a language to master."

"Especially for someone of your abilities, no doubt," Raquel said with a smile, squeezing Nayana's arms around her in a sort of reversed hug before stepping away. "We'll catch up later, I promise," she told Monica and the still stunned Kathleen. "Right now, though, we need to go see Amy. C'mon, you." This last was said to Nayana as Raquel began heading across the room, still holding onto one of the assassin's hands as she tugged her along.

The really surprising thing, though, was that Nayana was letting her do it.

**********************************************
Lucy had to admit, as far as Christmas parties went, she'd been to worse.

Much worse, really. The last one she'd been to with her ex-girlfriend...

But no. She wasn't going there tonight. Maybe it wasn't exciting, but the friendly, cheery atmosphere of the DEBS party was incredibly inviting. She never - ever - would have envisioned finding such a thing while surrounded by government agents, yet there she was.

And that wasn't even counting the fact that the love of her life was the agency's poster girl. A year ago - hell, not even that long - if someone had even dared to suggest such a thing, she would have laughed at them. Or punched them in the face. Or both.

Yeah, probably both.

And yet...

Amy sighed contentedly into her hair, and Lucy felt a wave of love bubble up that nearly brought tears to her eyes.

Amy kissed the back of her head. "I feel the same, believe me."

In the past, something like that would have made Lucy wonder if she'd slipped up and said something she was thinking out loud, or brought on a vaguely paranoid feeling - especially given that Amy couldn't even see her face. Now, though, she didn't question it at all. Of course Amy knew what she was feeling, even thinking. It went both ways, after all, and Amy seemed to be delighted to have someone who knew her so well.

"Feliz Navidad," Raquel's voice said from behind them.

She could feel Amy smile, even as they both turned to face the other DEB. "So, how did you like Ind-" Uncharacteristically, Amy broke off mid-word.

Huh. So that's what she looks like when she's surprised, was all Lucy could think as she studied Amy's wide eyes. The blonde blinked repeatedly, her mouth shutting with an audible click.

Nayana smirked, while Raquel just smiled happily. "It was beautiful," she said, and judging by the look on her face she meant it. Her smile then turned mischevous as she added, "And I found this awesome souvenir."

"My parents said to say hello," Nayana told Amy, still looking amused. "As well as Nave sal di mubaraka. And I suppose I should say meherbani for giving me an excuse to get out of there for a while."

Amy finally snapped out of her shock to reply. "Well, you'll have to tell them the same for me, then," she said with a smile. "How long are you planning on sticking around for?"

"Not very," Nayana said with a small shrug.

"I'm leaving soon to catch my flight to Florida," Raquel said, as if she felt she needed to explain further.

"I have no particular inclination to subject myself to an overly cheerful atmosphere as that's likely to be."

"Not to mention the interrogation we'd get if you did show up with me."

"And there wouldn't be any reason for me to-"

"-because we're not dating, I know. Not to mention, facing the entire García Méndez clan at once is something of a-"

"-daunting prospect, yes, so you've said. And I should hope you don't seriously expect-"

"-it isn't reverse psychology, I swear. It can be a bit intense, if you're not used to it. Family is very important in my culture. I'm just-"

"-thinking of me, I know. I never said I didn't believe you. But-"

"-I'm not going to apologize for wanting the best for you, no matter what you're used to."

Lucy, whose gaze had been flitting from one to the other and back again - and had been feeling like she was watching some kind of conversational ping-pong match - leaned closer to Amy and quietly asked, "Is this what it's like for other people to watch us?"

A laugh escaped Amy before she could stop it, and Raquel and Nayana broke off to give her an odd look. "Er, sorry. Well, then, please don't let us keep you from enjoying each other." She paused, evidently realizing how that had sounded. "Each other's company, I mean." That didn't seem to sound any better to her. "During the party." Another pause. "Here. With everyone else."

Nayana held up a hand, mercifully cutting her off. "We get the idea, Amy. Really." Raquel snickered quietly as she lead her away, into the kitchen.

Two seconds later, Amy turned to Lucy and said, "Shut up."

Lucy, whose mouth had just begun to open to tease her girlfriend, simply grinned. "I didn't say a word." Even though that had been one of the cutest things ever. She didn't think she'd ever seen Amy get flustered like that.

"Good. Just... keep it that way."

**********************************************

1. Allegro - Julia Fischer [Violin]

"You don't celebrate Christmas?" Janet sounded aghast at the very idea.

"No," Nayana said simply. She wondered if it was the relaxing atmosphere of the house, the "eggnog" that she'd just been introduced to (she'd been somewhat dubious, but Raquel had promised that it was only mildly alcoholic, and the taste was... interesting), Raquel's company, or some combination that was keeping her from feeling even a vague urge to kill the Christmas sweater-clad blonde seated across the kitchen table from her. Not even when she was flirting with Scud in a rather disgustingly sweet manner.

That part, at least, likely owed something to the way that Raquel would say something quietly to her, nudge her, or even just trail a finger down her forearm every time it began to annoy her at all.

"Is that a cultural thing, or something caused by your time at The Centre?" Scud asked.

"Both, actually." At least she didn't have to explain. She never really liked talking about herself, her training making her VERY resistant to the idea of giving away personal information of any kind.

Which explains, of course, why you tell Raquel pretty much everything she wants to know, her mind snarked at her.

She told it to shut up, as she was not in any kind of mood for that sort of thing.

"Don't worry, though," Raquel told Janet. "Given the size of my extended family, I'll celebrate enough for the both of us... and then some." She paused, shifting a little. "But, um," she began quietly, shifting her gaze to Nayana.

But she was still worried that things might be a bit tense, given the very strong and radically different political views certain members of that family held. "I'll leave my phone on." Because Raquel had managed to get her cell phone number out of her on the flight back to L.A. - when they weren't engaged in... other activities.

Relief showed plainly on Raquel's face. "Thank you." She looked back at Janet. "So, what have you two got planned."

Nayana mainly tuned out the resulting gush of babble, in order to better restrain any homicidal urges. She picked up the highlights: they would be going to visit Janet's family, they were both nervous and excited at the idea, this was the first Christmas in years that Scud would be spending without Lucy... "Why don't you go spend more time with her now, then?" she broke in. "Before she and Amy have to leave to catch their own flight?"

Their was a surprised silence, then Janet beamed at her. "Good idea!" she exclaimed, all but dragging Scud out of the kitchen.

"That was nice of you," Raquel said with a smile. "But tell me... How much of that was you actually trying to be nice and helpful, and how much was you just wanting to get rid of them so we could be alone together?"

"Oh, curses, you found me out," she deadpanned, and was rewarded by a giggle from Raquel. "Although, since we are alone..."

"We should make sure to go and break my new mattress in properly?" Raquel finished with a grin.

"Well, if that's what you want, who am I to refuse you?"

Raquel nearly yanked her arm out of its socket as she yanked her out of her seat.

**********************************************
Raquel honestly could not have cared less if anyone saw her and Nayana disappearing upstairs, even though it would hardly have been a mystery where they were going, or why.

She didn't even care that her hair was still askew when she came back downstairs a couple hours later to find the party breaking up. Hell, she wouldn't even care if it still looked like that when she got home and hugged her parents.

Because there was nothing - not one damn thing on the entire planet - that could bring her down right now.

After all, she'd finally gotten the girl. Sure, they weren't a couple. Yes, they would be separated by an entire ocean, not to mention a good chunk of continent. And maybe they wouldn't even be able to talk as often as she'd like. But they would talk, and Nayana did like her, and they would see each other again, sooner rather then later.

She didn't know what she was felt for Nayana, and surprisingly was okay with that. It was what it was. Defining it could come later. Just now...

It didn't need to make sense.

And thus concludes my annual Christmas fic. Sure, it's February now, but...

Um...

Yeah.

Anyway, hope you liked it! :)

Hope everyone had a Merry Christmas...

2008-12-31T21:57:21Z

Title: Sadhana

Author: That'd be me. *grins* Andrew, Obsidian, call me what you want. But only if it's nice. ;)

Rating: PG-13, I'd say.

Comments: Another year, another Christmas story, right? This time, though... Well, it's going to be an AU of my AU story, which is a little weird, but in a good way, you know? Besides, the girls deserve this. This story ignores the events of Prometheus Unbound completely, picking up several months after the conclusion of Pantheon.

Legal Disclaimer: I do not own 'D.E.B.S.', Angela Robinson does. Though if I had my way, there would have been a sequel or two by now. ;)

Los Angeles, California
December 21st

"Are you sure we've got everything?"

Kathleen tried very hard not to smile. She failed miserably, but it was the thought that counted, right? "Monica..."

"We've got enough clothes, right? And all the gifts are packed?"

"Monica." She reached out and grasped her girlfriend's shoulders, bringing a halt to her nervous pacing. "Firstly, we're not leaving for two more days."

"I know that, but-"

"Secondly," Kathleen continued, ignoring the interruption, "given that we're staying with my parents, I do have plenty of clothes there, besides what we've packed."

"Granted, b-"

"And thirdly, yes, the gifts are all wrapped and packed safely, with plenty of padding to make sure they get there safely and intact. Calm down. My family already loves you."

"I know, I know. It's just..." She sighed and leaned against Kathleen, who didn't hesitate to envelope her in a hug. "This is the first time I've ever spent the holidays with my girlfriend." Because they were staying until after New Year's. "I just... want everything to go perfectly."

"It will." She gave her a gentle kiss. "I promise."

For a long moment, Monica was content to remain in the embrace. "You sure Beth's gonna be all right?" she asked as she pulled back.

"I think so, yes." Bethany hadn't started out the year in very good shape, but after she'd finally been convinced to get some therapy, she'd started pulling herself together. "Now that she finally told her parents what was wrong, she should be just fine there." A pause. "She's not the one I'm concerned about at the moment, though."

Monica sighed and nodded. Raquel. "Well, her family will lay off the political stuff over Christmas, right?"

"In theory, yes." After they'd driven Raquel from the house with two full months of summer vacation left, they should have taken a hint, and realized that she wasn't going to stand for any more of that. "Hopefully, this'll be what she needs." Because as Christmas drew closer and closer, Raquel had seemed to get more and more depressed. She hid it well enough to fool most people, but they'd lived and worked with her for years.

Monica smiled. "Well, you know our Raquel. If it's something she needs, she'll make it happen."

**********************************************
The doorbell rang.

"What the...?" Lucy twisted around in surprise from where she'd been sitting on the couch, snuggling with Amy, to face the direction of the front door. "We have a doorbell?"

"It is supposed to be a normal house, as far as anyone else knows," Amy replied absently, but she knew exactly how Lucy felt.

Between Lucy's ingrained habit of keeping her current address a secret (for her own safety, if nothing else), and Amy's almost desperate need to have some kind of privacy, no one really knew where they lived. Indeed, in all the months they'd lived there, Amy didn't think she remembered ever hearing the thing before, except that once that she'd tested it to make sure that it worked.

Their property also had defenses up the ying-yang. As such, there were only a handful of people who even could have gotten to the front door unscathed, or without setting off all manner of alarms. Amy had designed it so that even she wouldn't have been able to sneak in unnoticed, so she was fairly certain she could rule out someone with hostile intent.

Besides, people trying to kill her didn't usually ring the bell and announce themselves.

Curious now, she rose from the couch, Lucy trailing along behind her. Even though she felt safe - or as safe as she ever felt - she still grabbed a gun out of sheer habit.

It wasn't necessary, though. Standing on their front doorstep, with a determined look on her face, was Raquel.

"Where is she?" she asked without preamble.

"How did you find our house?" Lucy countered.

"I asked Max."

"How did Max know where we live?" Lucy looked from Raquel to Amy and back again, making it unclear who she was asking.

"Don't worry, you don't have to worry about her showing up in the middle of the night unannounced while we're... in the middle of something," Amy said, which wasn't really an answer at all.

"Where IS she?" Raquel repeated, cutting the conversation short before Lucy could work up much steam. Focusing on Amy, she added, "And don't pretend like you don't know who I mean. You can consider it my Christmas present, if you want." She paused. "That reminds me, you guys are coming to the party, right?" Given that most of the DEBS would be going home to spend Christmas with their families, they'd decided to have a small party on the 23rd at the Sector One house. Which meant she had very little time if she wanted to pull this off.

"Of course we are," Amy replied, then hesitated before adding, "And yes, I do know who you mean. But you know that-"

"It's Christmas," Raquel interrupted, feelingly. "I have to at least see her."

Amy sighed, giving in. Hell, she of all people knew exactly how Raquel felt. "I'd say 'you didn't hear this from me', but she wouldn't buy that for a second."

Kamthi, India
December 22nd

Looking around, Raquel had to admit, the place really was gorgeous.

It wasn't like Osceola or Puerto Rico, of course (and she would freely admit to being biased), but the lush landscape (where there was landscape, anyway), the beautiful architecture, the people...

She could live there.

She wasn't about to move there, of course, but still... She could see why Nayana might like it, and why her parents had moved there after their daughter had been kidnapped and presumably killed.

She'd managed to maintain her confidence right up until she'd gotten to the front door, at which point she'd been assailed by doubts. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe Nayana wouldn't want to see her at all. Maybe she'd already moved on.

Maybe you should ring the damn doorbell already, and find out, her mind snarked at her.

She could 'maybe' herself to death. She needed answers, she needed to know one way or another, and she needed...

She needed to stop spacing out like that, she decided as her finger reflexively pushed the button. It landed her in too much trouble.

For almost a minute straight, nothing happened. She probably should have called ahead, she thought as she shifted uncomfortably on the porch. Hopefully, she wouldn't be standing out there for so long that people began wondering why a Catholic schoolgirl was waiting at the Tagore family's door. She'd been in such a hurry that she hadn't even bothered changing out of her uniform, only grabbing her passport before heading to the airport. Thankfully, Amy had been nice enough to arrange transportation for her via the Concorde that had formerly belonged to The Centre, or the flight out would have been agonizingly long. As it was, it had just been scarcely bearable.

Fortunately, it was roughly 87 degrees, and it was still early in the day, or she would have been freezing by then. Growing up where she did, she was really not accustomed to cold weather. Yet another reason that-

The door opened, and her mind went blank.

Nayana's expression was unreadable, and Raquel got the idea that she'd missed her initial reaction to seeing who was at the door. No doubt there was a camera hidden somewhere that had shown her long before she answered, which might well account for the lengthy delay.

Well, if she'd actually managed to surprise Nayana for once, she was not about to complain.

She just wished her brain would cough up a few words of greeting or something, at the very least.

"What are you doing here?"

The question was more quizzical then insulting, but it did serve to jar Raquel out of her stupefied silence. "I missed you," she said softly.

Something flickered through Nayana's eyes, there and gone before Raquel could tell what it was. She took a step to the side, an obvious invitation to enter. Once Raquel was inside, she shut the door and faced her. "I don't know what-"

Raquel cut her off by the simple expedient of slipping her arms around her neck and pulling her down into a dizzying kiss. The DEB was aware of a moan emanating from within her own throat as she pushed Nayana against the door, but really didn't care.

Nayana was kissing her back.

She was in heaven.

Really, the only thing that could have made it better...

Nayana broke the kiss to murmur, "I have the house to myself for at least another fourty-seven minutes."

Raquel grinned. God bless pseudo-telepathic pretenders.

**********************************************
"So, how are things here?" Raquel asked as she finished buttoning up her shirt. She still looked a bit rumpled, but hopefully that could be chalked up to travel.

Nayana looked annoyingly composed, as if she hadn't just been having mind-blowing sex, which was just not fair at all. "Boring. Have I ever struck you as the typical dutiful Indian daughter?"

That... was really not something Raquel had ever been able to wrap her head around. "Umm..."

"Exactly."

Leaning back into the couch (which really wasn't as comfortable as it should have been, in her opinion), she gently nudged Nayana. "But you're reconnecting with your family. That's a good thing... right?"

"In theory." She paused. "The question, though, is why are you here?"

"I already told you, I missed you. And it's Christmas. I had to see you." She smiled. "Besides, didn't I tell you I'd come find you if I had to?"

"Yes, but I didn't think it would be this soon."

"'Soon'? It's been months!" She swatted Nayana upside the head. "'This soon'. Honestly..."

And that was when she knew Nayana felt something for her, as where other people would have gotten anything from a broken hand to a snapped neck, she only got a mild glare. "Stop that. So... You've seen me. Now what?"

Which was another annoyingly good question. She wished she'd thought this through more carefully. "What are you doing for Christmas?" she asked, honestly not sure herself if she was actually trying to answer or just stalling for time.

"We don't celebrate Christmas."

"Then you could come home with me!"

Nayana raised an eyebrow. "Come again?"

"We're having a party tomorrow, back at the house, before everyone goes home for the holidays," Raquel explained. "Amy'll be there, too, and I'm sure she wouldn't mind seeing you."

"Unlike, say, just about everyone else?"

Well, yes, there was that. But they had been - slowly - getting used to her near the end of the whole Centre business, Raquel was certain they had. "I don't agree with that." She took Nayana's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "And I'd like it if you came. It is just that one party, don't worry. I'm not going to try and bring you back to Florida with me." A sudden, horrible thought struck her. "Would your parents even be okay with that? God, what am I thinking? They only just got you back-"

"Raquel..."

"-after so many years-"

"Raquel..."

"-and I just- Mmmph!"

"Can I talk, now?" Nayana asked, her hand clamped firmly over Raquel's mouth. The latter nodded wordlessly. "Good. I am a grown woman." Her lips quirked as Raquel mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like a muffled "I've noticed." She waited a moment, then continued, "I've survived on my own for most of my life. I don't need their permission to do anything. And they're going to have to get used to the idea that I'm not going to stay here. A trip to visit Amy will be as good a start to that as anything."

Catching the look in Raquel's eyes, she sighed and lowered her hand. "And yes, that is all I'm going to tell them about the why. It's all they need to know." She paused. "And in case you've forgotten, homosexuality is still illegal in India."

"Oh, and heaven forbid you do anything illegal," Raquel said dryly.

"I see no need to tell them the details of my past," Nayana said with a negligent shrug. "Let them keep their illusions. And this will prevent them from getting in trouble for knowing I was breaking the law and doing nothing about it."

Raquel shifted uncomfortably. "I doubt they'd care. After everything... I'm sure they want you to be happy, more then anything." Quietly, she added, "I do, too, you know."

"I know. But-"

"Kuri kuch chhar, the shahr dhandora!" Raquel exploded. At Nayana's surprised blink, she cringed inside. She hadn't meant to say that, and certainly not the way she had. She was just getting so... fed up, with the Indian woman's refusal to see what was right in front of her.

"Kaent," Nayana commented, one corner of her mouth pulling up into a half-smile.

Raquel fought down a blush. That was about the best reaction she could have hoped for, and while that was certainly a good thing... She really just wanted to crawl into a hole and hide, by this point. "Um, thank you. I..."

"Been doing a little research, have we?" Nayana asked, sounding amused.

"Well... maybe," she admitted. "I just want to make sure that, that..."

"Marr jaawaan gurd kha ke?" Nayana's smile crept higher.

Raquel lost the battle, slowly turning red. "Um, that's not..."

"Ay que ver como bate el cobre,." Unlike Raquel's somewhat stilted Punjabi, Nayana's fluid Spanish could have placed her seamlessly in any city or town in Puerto Rico.

Life, Raquel decided, was not fair. "Yeah, but..." She sighed. "Ki tussi mere naal aaoge?"

"Main tuahaade naal awanga."

"Ki eh jawaab hai?" She would not let out a giddy shriek of joy, she told herself. She would not cheer. She would not lose what little dignity she had left. That would only embarrass Nayana, in any event.

"Eh jawaab hai." Judging by the way the amused look on her face lingered, she clearly knew what was going through the DEB's mind.

Well, they'd see about that. Unable to resist, she impishly added, "Ki tussi mainu pyaar karde ho?"

Nayana's eyes narrowed. "Don't push it."

Well, this was originally going to be a one-part story, but I get the feeling that if I don't split it up and post part one now, the story wouldn't see the light of day until the new year, at least. Hope all you Kali fans out there don't mind waiting. ;)

Let's just pretend this isn't QUITE as overdue as it really is, shall we?

2008-12-13T06:50:50Z

Title: Do Not Go Quietly... (2/?)
Author: obsidian179
Rating: PG-13, at least so far.
Disclaimer: Grey's Anatomy is the property of ABC and Shonda Rhimes - though considering the treatment they've been giving it, I'm starting to think there should be some kind of DCFS-equivalent for television shows.
Summary: This was NOT how Callie wanted to leave things...

Author's notes: I apologize for the long wait, but sometimes the muse just doesn't want to cooperate, and this time of year, I don't have as much writing time as usual. Anyway, I did promise that I would include someone other then Callie and Mark in this chapter, so I will do just that. Maybe even more then one. ;)

People may still well be OOC, I dunno. But given how the show's evidently been progressing, would that be such a bad thing? ;) And this chapter has music! All By Myself lyrics (modified as they are) by Eric Carmen, Leaving On A Jet Plane lyrics (lyric?) by John Denver, and This Time lyrics by Melanie Chisholm.

And away we go...

Virginia Dixon did not especially like Seattle Grace Hospital.

It was disappointing, really. It had sounded so promising, in the beginning. Even if they'd been slipping in the rankings, Seattle Grace was still a good hospital, and a first-rate trauma and transplant center. The opening for Chief of Cardio had been unexpected, but had been a welcome surprise. She'd felt good about it.

That good feeling had lasted right up until she actually walked into the hospital and met her (possible) future co-workers.

On the surface, they'd been friendly and welcoming, and she'd written off any tension to the fact that she was (maybe) replacing one of their respected colleagues. She'd been a little disappointed that she hadn't been able to meet Dr. Hahn. The woman was something of a legend in the cardiothoracics field, after all. She had no real idea why Hahn had left, and no one seemed to want to talk about it, but it had been an honor to even be considered as a replacement for her.

But she hadn't gotten to where she was by being stupid. They wanted her as cardio chief, yet everyone from Chief Webber to the residents were condescending and treated her like a subordinate. And worse, they seemed to arbitrarily choose which rules they were going to follow and which they weren't, even making up new ones on the spot if they had to in order to get their way.

In other hospitals, they would have at least made an effort to understand her. It usually took time before the inevitable whispers started up, when the other doctors began noticing that she wasn't quite... "normal".

Whatever that was.

But not so at Seattle Grace. No, they'd bypassed all the welcoming and offered warmth she'd come to expect from a new hospital, and jumped straight to the judgmental and hurtful phase.

She supposed it was efficient, at least.

She was also disappointed that none of them seemed to know anything about Asperger's. She tried her best to interact normally with people, using everything she'd learned in her cognitive therapy, social training, and speech therapy classes, but sometimes that just wasn't enough. And to throw her into situations like they did, with no warning or preparation...

Even when they weren't saying anything, she could still feel the comments being directed her way.

Freak.

Robot.

Bitch.

She couldn't really explain why she did some of the things she did - not that anyone really asked. She didn't set out to be cold or cruel. But when she was thrown into situations like she had been, she had no idea what to do, to say, and tended to lock up. In the past, she would have just stood there, shifting uncomfortably, painfully aware of just how lacking she was.

She wondered which would have been better.

Science was both her salvation and her curse. It was something solid to fall back on, something real and concrete, that wasn't defined by people's perceptions. No matter who was dealing with it, or what the situation was, it stayed exactly the same. So when dealing with a distraught family, telling them how their daughter was brain dead, she fell back on that. It was what she knew.

She'd realized afterward just how insensitive she must have seemed, how callous, but she genuinely had thought that if she could just get them to see how much good their daughter could do by donating her organs as soon as possible, how many lives she could save...

Yes, what had happened to their daughter was a tragedy, but if something good could come out of that, something miraculous, wouldn't that be a good thing? Wouldn't that mean that it wasn't just some random horrible event, that there was a purpose to it?

Wouldn't knowing that their daughter was saving lives help?

She'd believed it would. She still did, really, but knew she'd gone about presenting her arguments the wrong way. She'd relied solely on science. And she'd kept going, even after it had become clear that she was offending them. Hurting them. Doing the exact opposite of what a doctor was supposed to do.

She'd once heard it said that science was a mercurial lover, and now she thought she understood what that meant. It could lead her to miraculous and amazing discoveries one moment, then break her to pieces the next.

She'd ended that day by hiding in one of the on-call rooms, seated on one of the beds, with her legs drawn up against her chest. It had been a while since she'd felt the need to go seclude herself like that, but it had helped, and she'd been able to finish her shift without any problems.

She'd wanted to hide the next day, and the day after that, but forced herself not to. As much as she would have loved to find a hole and pull it in after herself, that wouldn't help in the long run. She had to find a way to deal with these people.

They weren't all bad, of course. Derek Shepherd didn't seem to have any problems with her at all, and since he was a neuro surgeon, he, at least, had an understanding of why she was the way she was. Meredith Grey was a little harder to warm up to, as she seemed to have unknowingly picked up an 'all about me' complex. Well, that might serve her well as a surgeon, she supposed. She could say hurtful things, perhaps, but they never seemed to be deliberately so.

Lexie Grey, on the other hand, seemed to be one of the nicest people she'd ever met. She never minded having the younger Grey on her service, despite her... questionable taste in men.

She hadn't wanted to engage in gossip, but in a hospital where the doctors seemed to care more about their own love lives then the actual lives of their patients, there was simply no escaping it. So when it became known that there was maybe possibly kind of some potential thing developing between Lexie Grey and Mark Sloan, she'd heard about it.

Sloan made her wary. She'd heard him described as something of a man-whore, to the point where the nurses had actually boycotted his surgeries. It was just another symptom of the root problem of personal interests overshadowing professional. On the other hand, however, while they hadn't interacted much, he had been respectful when they had crossed paths, and any comments he might make never seemed to have any real weight to them.

Callie Torres... avoided her.

She really didn't know what to make of that. She'd told herself that it likely didn't have anything to do with her, that she didn't know Torres at all, and it was entirely possible that the Ortho surgeon just didn't like people. For once, the gossip mills failed her, as anyone who might know anything about anything that was going on with Torres these days wasn't talking. They'd only had one surgery together, and Torres had been clipped, formal, and to the point, without any extraneous chatter. It had just been 'go in, find the problem, solve the problem, and leave'.

Frankly, she appreciated that kind of professionalism. So when she'd learned that there was a trauma coming in that would require both ortho and cardio, among others, naturally she'd requested Dr. Torres.

And now she was being told that that wasn't possible.

"Why not?" It was a reasonable question, and she hadn't thought she'd put any special emphasis on either word, yet Dr. Yang still seemed to be fighting not to roll her eyes.

Yang was something of a puzzle. On the outside, she certainly seemed like a textbook misanthrope. She could be cold, condescending, and seemed to view her patients as machines, vessels for the cardio surgery she sought so desperately. And yet, she did seem to have friends, even care about them, not that she enjoyed showing it. Meredith Grey, evidently, was "her person", whatever that meant. She didn't seem to like Dixon at all, yet still tried to suck up to her whenever possible. That was in order to get in on as many surgeries as possible, she knew, but still...

From what she'd heard, her predecessor had not been especially kind to Yang. Indeed, she'd seemed to be thrilled to have someone else as head of cardio, someone who'd be willing to let her scrub in more often. Yet... she missed Hahn. Even Dixon had been able to figure that out. It could have been because of the loss of someone with as much knowledge as Hahn had... or it could have been something else completely. That, she did not know.

"She's off today," Yang replied simply. Yet still she lingered, obviously hoping to get in on the surgery. "Don't worry, Mack's still around."

Dixon frowned. She didn't want to work with Mack. She wanted Torres. Mack was one of the more aggravating people in the hospital, in her opinion. He took too long to make his diagnosis, he didn't take her seriously, and the only thing that made him at all tolerable was the fact that she never had to work with him. "How is that supposed to reassure me?"

Yang blinked, then looked briefly like she wanted to smile. "If he didn't know what he was doing, he wouldn't be allowed to work here."

Privately, Dixon wasn't so certain of that, but refrained from saying so. "Did I do something to make Dr. Torres unhappy with me?"

Judging by her expression - which wasn't the easiest thing in the world for Dixon to do - Yang found that a rather random question. "Just because she has the day off today, that doesn't mean-"

"Not today," Dixon interrupted. "In general."

Yang shifted uncomfortably. They were standing in the ambulance bay, far enough from the others hanging around for them to overhear their discussion. Dixon knew from past experience that if she pressed too hard, whoever she was talking to might decide to clam up, but this had been bugging her for a while, and now that she finally had an opportunity to shed some light on the subject, she was going to take it. "Not... really, no. She and Dr. Hahn were... very close."

"No one else reacts to my presence the way she does."

"Very close." Yang gave her what was probably supposed to be a significant look.

It was lost on her. She'd never met Hahn and barely knew anything about Torres - gossip about her ex and the number of times she'd been seen ducking into an on-call room with the resident man-whore not withstanding - so she had no idea what to make of that statement. "Oh," was all she said.

Yang shrugged. "Personally, I think she should just get over it, already. We all get dumped, sometimes. She likes to think I didn't know about her and Hahn, but... Well, some things you can't really just ignore. I can't really blame Hahn for walking out on her, after everything that she did. And she just had to do this when Hahn was finally starting to teach me."

Yang wasn't really looking at her just then, her gaze directed toward the street, which was good, because Dixon couldn't quite hide her look of shock. That Torres and Hahn might have been an item didn't really bother her at all, but... "Aren't you her friend?" she blurted out before she could think better of it.

"I'm not the girly sort of person. She knows that." She didn't seem to care that she was basically saying that her career was more important to her then her friend's happiness or emotional well being. Dixon had been accused a few times in the past of having no emotions - a common misconception when it came to people with Asperger's, but one that could still annoy her greatly, even now - but even she'd never been that cold.

How could she do this job without caring about people at all?

"Dr. Yang... Why did you become a doctor?"

That caught her attention. "Excuse me?"

"Why did you become a doctor? What made you first decide you wanted to go to medical school?"

"Why are you-"

"Please. Just... answer the question."

"Maybe I just wanted to help people. Is that all right with you?"

Somehow, Dixon knew that she wouldn't have talked to Dr. Hahn like that. "You could do that as a firefighter, or a police officer, or any number of things. Why medicine?"

Yang shifted defensively. "They don't interest me like this does. I mean, heart surgery... Well, I'm sure I don't have to tell you."

"My mother died from complications during a bypass surgery."

Yang rocked back, evidently startled by the revelation. Maybe it had been a bit personal, but she tended to do that, sometimes. Yang would just have to get used to it... if she decided to stick around. "I... I'm sorry, I didn't know..."

"Why would you have?" Dixon asked reasonably. "I was nine. And that was when I knew what I wanted to do with my life." She wasn't entirely certain this was an appropriate conversation for the workplace, but if she meant to work here, to teach these people, she had to start somewhere. "So, what set you on this path?"

Yang's mouth worked silently for a moment, until she managed to say, "I don't know. I guess... I've never really thought about it."

The ambulance was pulling up, but Dixon took the time to look at her for a long moment before gently asking, "Don't you think you should?"

"When you were young, you never needed anyone..."

Callie wasn't sure what she was doing.

"And making love was just for fun. Those days are gone..."

After talking with Addison, she'd known what she had to do. She needed to see Erica, to talk to her, to apologize. And, Callie being Callie, she'd immediately called the airport and booked herself on the first flight out to New York City.

"Living alone, you think of all the friends you've known. But when you dial the telephone... Nobody's home."

Of course, in the time between then and now, she'd been racked by doubt and uncertainty. Was this the right thing to do? Would Erica even want to see her? Would she listen? Would this only hurt her more? Causing her any further pain was the absolute last thing Callie ever wanted to do.

She was, however, certain of one thing.

She was seriously beginning to regret asking Mark Sloan to drop her off at the airport that morning.

"All by yourself. Don't wanna be all by yourself, anymore. All by yourself. Don't wanna live all by myself, anymore..."

"Mark!" she shouted, drawing even more stares then Mark's "singing" had been. "Would you please stop mangling that song?" He could do a lot of things well, she knew, but singing didn't seem to be one of them.

On the other hand, if this was the worst that she had to go through to get through to Erica...

"Sorry," he said, his jaunty tone and amused grin belying his words. "I guess I'm just a sucker for romantic gestures like this."

She groaned and approached the ticket counter, confirming her reservation and paying for her ticket. This sort of thing had seemed to so much faster in the past. Yay for safety and security, she thought sourly. Couldn't they see she was in a hurry? "I think I can take it from here," she told him once she had her ticket in hand. "Don't you have to get to work, soon? You'll want to leave soon if you wanna make it there through the traffic."

"I've got some time, yet," he told her, dashing her hopes. "And really, how could I leave without seeing you off safely?"

"You won't be able to anyway, you know that. If you don't have a ticket, they won't let you through to the gates." And there was no way God hated her enough to let THAT happen.

"I can at least escort you that far," he insisted, still grinning. "After all... You're leaving on a jet plane, don't know when you'll be back again..."

"Mark, I beg of you, please stop! Leave the singing to someone who can actually carry a tune to save their life."

"Like you?" The grin widened.

That she could sing was not common knowledge at Seattle Grace, and she had to wonder how he'd found out... if indeed he had, and he wasn't just screwing around with her. "Maybe." She'd been worried that they wouldn't make it in time, but fortunately they hadn't managed to get there that late. As it was, though, most everyone in line had already gone through, so the wait for the metal detectors was a short one. She'd done little more then throw a few items of clothing in a duffel bag and make sure her iPod was fully charged, so getting through didn't take especially long.

She quietly suggested to one of the security guards that the scruffy-looking guy who'd been with her was acting a bit too happy, and they might want to search him for drugs. Very thoroughly. And that they might want to get the biggest, toughest guy they had to do it, because he looked like a fighter. Then she put in her earbuds, selected a song on her iPod, and enjoyed the way his jaw dropped open as she began to sing along.

I've been practicing all day
Now the words I meant to say are gone
I promised that I wouldn't cry
Told myself I had to try and hold on
The truth, I lied
I hate myself inside
And why
I played the game and paid the price

She grinned as she turned and headed toward her gate, giving him a wave over her shoulder.

I never look back
I never cry, never try to wonder why
I'll be on my own
And never doubt, never shout or wonder how
I'll never be lonely until
This time, this time, this time
This time I will

I've been wide awake all night
There's no sign of sleep inside my mind
The headlight shadows scan my wall
I convince myself you'll call in time

She actually had been up all night. After talking to Addison, and making her decision... She couldn't have slept if she'd wanted to. Hopefully, she'd be able to get some on the flight out, otherwise...

Well, the results wouldn't be pretty.

The truth, I lied
The girl in me has died
And why
I played the game and paid the price

I never look back
I never cry, never try to wonder why
I'll be on my own
And never doubt, never shout or wonder how
I'll never be lonely until
This time, this time, this time
This time I will

"This time I will be yours completely," she sang with feeling. "This time I'll make sure you don't hate me. This time I know, this time I can, and this time I will..."

This was it, she knew. This was the absolute last chance she would ever have with Erica Hahn. If she couldn't get Erica to take her back one last time... If she couldn't at least make sure Erica knew how incredibly sorry she was for her horrific behavior...

She never would.

Make it or break it time, Torres. If nothing else... She wanted to make sure Erica would be happy. Even if that meant staying away from her forever. But only if she was really, truly happy. Not just if she said she was, or even if she'd managed to convince herself that it was true.

I never look back
I never cry, never try to wonder why
I'll be on my own
And never doubt, never shout or wonder how
I'll never be lonely until
This time, this time, this time
This time I will
I never look back
I never cry, never try to wonder why
I'll be on my own
And never doubt, never shout or wonder how
I'll never be lonely until
This time, this time, this time
This time I will...

She allowed her voice to trail off as she neared her terminal. A quick check of her watch told her that she still had twenty-two minutes left before they even began boarding. She took a seat in the waiting area, hope and determination warring with anxiety and uncertainty. She sighed quietly as the song reached its gentle conclusion.

I've been practicing all day
Now the words I meant to say are gone.

Prometheus Unbound - ch. 2.1 (12/06/08)

2008-12-06T17:32:50Z

I'm actually not even finished with chapter 2 quite yet, but I thought you'd all been more then patient enough with me so far, so I'm giving you (most of) what I have now, and the rest will follow once I have it completed. ^_^

Title: Prometheus Unbound (2.1/?)

Author: That'd be me. *grins* Andrew, Obsidian, call me what you want. But only if it's nice. ;)

Rating: R (C'mon, it's a sequel to Pantheon. What did you expect? ;) )

Comments: At long last, it's finally here. ^_^ Hopefully you'll like this one as much as you did Pantheon, if not more so. Now, there is going to be a third fandom included this time around, but, as before, I'm not telling you what it is, yet. You'll find out soon enough, don't worry.

Author's Note: This chapter is a first for me in more then one way, folks. Not only will I be including several songs in their entirety, I'll actually be using the songs, rather then just the lyrics. Not only that, but I think it may (thus far) hold the record for number of flashbacks in one chapter. All of which is part of the reason it took so long for me to write. (The rest being, of course, all that pesky offline stuff I keep having to deal with. ^_^) Also, please note (for continuity reasons), this chapter takes place more-or-less concurrently with chapter one.

And as a final word of warning, the first part of this chapter does contain some adult themes and a number of, well, disgusting mental images. Suffice it to say, this is NOT Bethany's finest hour.

Legal Disclaimer: I do not own 'D.E.B.S.', as I am not Angela Robinson. I also don't own 'The Pretender' (which was created by Steven Long Mitchell and Craig W. Van Sickle). Nor do I own , as I am not, nor do I work for, Universal Studios. (Yes, an actual clue! *lol*)

Chapter Two
0416 hours

The universe hated her. That was really the only rational explanation.

Raquel García Méndez groaned and stared up at the ceiling above her bed. She was tempted - oh, so very tempted - to just stay there, and ignore the noise downstairs. But she also knew that if she did, things would just get worse.

There was a crash, what might have been a curse, and drunken giggling.

Letting out a muttered curse of her own, she slid out of bed and headed downstairs. She'd barely had her light off for fifteen minutes this time. Whoever was coming to install the sound dampeners around Kathleen and Monica's new bedroom had damned well better get there tomorrow - no, she amended as she caught sight of her clock before she left her bedroom, today - because she needed some sleep, damn it. And as much as she just wanted to sedate herself so that she could sleep through a nuclear war or something...

Well, the sight at the bottom of the stairs was a rather stark reminder of why she couldn't do that.

She had no idea where Bethany had been tonight, and wasn't sure she cared anymore. Two solid weeks of her coming home hopelessly drunk from some party or other had worn down her empathy sharply. And that was bad enough on its own, but Bethany didn't drink alone.

Hell, she probably got that drunk so that she wouldn't notice that the person or one of the people - anywhere from two to two dozen or more, depending on both her mood and who was available - wasn't Mark.

It wasn't that Raquel couldn't sympathize, really. But when she came home like this, clothes askew and covered in...

She shuddered and moved to help Bethany up the stairs to the bathroom, trying not to notice the way her clothes were sticking to her. "Christ, Bethany. Again?" she grumbled bitterly. Bethany couldn't focus on her enough to give her any kind of coherent answer.

They'd developed something of a routine by this point. Or Raquel had, anyway. Bethany was too tired and drunk to do much thinking at all.

Step One involved getting Bethany to the bathroom before she started to throw up. Unfortunately, this step hadn't always been successful in the past. And while the DEBS did have a good cleaning crew, Bethany didn't want the higher-ups knowing what was going on in her personal life, so she'd had to clean it up on her own the next morning, while still hungover. (Raquel had flat-out refused.) Naturally, that just made her bad mood worse, and by the time that evening had rolled around, she'd gotten so upset that she'd just stormed out of the house and crashed a frat party, where she'd evidently challenged an entire room full of guys to... Well, to something. Raquel had been a little too scared to actually ask.

As it happened, Raquel managed to get her all the way to the toilet this time. It was something of a mixed blessing, though. Not having to clean up any vomit was a good thing, definitely, but as she was holding Bethany's hair back... her hand came into contact with something wet and sticky. She made a disgusted sound and just barely managed not to recoil.

Not for the first time, she wondered just what the hell Bethany had been doing all summer before she'd come back to the academy. Was she only acting like this because she knew Raquel would be there to take care of her, that she could trust Raquel to do so? She barely had any idea what Bethany had been up to all summer, but clearly she hadn't been dealing with Mark's death like she should have been.

Classes started up again in a few days, which meant that missions would, too. And there was no way they'd be cleared to go on any missions with the current state of things.

Once Bethany had seemingly emptied her stomach of everything she'd had to eat or drink in the past year, they moved on to Step Two: Getting her cleaned up.

Raquel had been a bit embarrassed to do this the first one or two times, but by now it was just... something that she had to do. In a clinical and precise manner, she undressed Bethany, all but pushed her into the shower, and turned it on full blast.

Bethany's gasped sputter of shock told her that the temperature was a bit too cold to be tolerable, but she had trouble bringing herself to care. "Listen to me," she snapped, now that Bethany was awake enough to actually hear her. "We are NOT going to keep doing this, do you understand? I don't know why you seem to enjoy letting so many men use you in such a fashion, but it's stopping now. This IS NOT going to happen again."

She unceremoniously soaped her up, then turned her attention to Bethany's hair.

It took her a few seconds to actually work up the nerve to touch it again.

"This is not healthy, and more over, it is not helping. That it keeps happening again and again, day after day, makes that painfully clear. I get that you're upset about Mark, okay?" She ignored Bethany's look of shock as she broke the silent agreement of the house and brought up the taboo subject. "Hell, I liked the guy, too. But he would be appalled and ashamed if he could see you now, and you know it."

She wasn't being at all delicate, but after two weeks of having her sleep schedule thrown off every fucking night, she was far too tense and irritable to pull her punches. "So this is it. This is the last time I'm doing this. Next time you decide to stagger in at an ungodly early hour after a night of debauchery, I'm leaving you down there. Moreover, if this doesn't stop, I'm going to Mister P."

And there it was, the other silent agreement of the squad. If at all possible, they preferred to handle things within the team. Nobody wanted to be the one who turned on the family, who went to their bosses like some kind of narc.

But she'd had it. Fifteen straight days of this was just more then she could take. And it was obvious that Bethany couldn't handle this on her own. If it took getting her professional help to save her from herself, then so be it.

Bethany had a shocked look on her face, so Raquel could only hope that what she'd been saying had penetrated the alcoholic haze enough that she'd remember it in the morning.

Step Three usually involved getting clean clothes for Bethany to change into, helping her to bed, and shoving her soiled clothing into the hamper, but Raquel was really in no mood. So she just let her fall down on to the top of her bed naked and exposed to the world, dropped her dirty clothes in the middle of her room, and stormed out, barely able to keep herself from slamming the door shut behind her.

A few seconds later, she walked back into Bethany's room, looked for a piece of paper and a pen, scrawled a quick note for the blonde, stuck it on top of Bethany's comm where she couldn't help but find it, then left again.

She then went back to the bathroom and washed her hands for about six straight minutes.

No sooner had she gotten back into her own room and started to climb back into bed, then an annoyingly familiar squeak-thump started up on the other side of her wall. And inevitably, quiet groans and moans soon followed.

They were quiet now, anyway. But that would change before long.

Evidently, either Kathleen or Monica had woken up, decided that the other shouldn't be sleeping, and set about trying to wake her up in what was obviously their favorite way.

She had to bit her lip to keep from screaming. Or finding the nearest heavy object and hurling it at the wall. It wasn't that she was against the idea of the two of them being intimate. They were ridiculously in love, and it was nice to see a relationship progressing in such a healthy manner, especially after having to deal with Bethany.

But she simply could not fall asleep while they were moaning and shrieking and screaming. And as irritable as she was right then, just reading and listening to her Sansa wasn't going to cut it this time. Not even her computer could distract her right then.

She had to get out of there. It was an ungodly early hour of the morning, she was so tired that the insides of her eyelashes felt like sandpaper, but her brain wasn't going to stop spinning like the exercise wheel of some demented hamster on crack until she burned off some energy.

So she grabbed her keys and her Sansa, slipped on her earphones, and headed downstairs and out the front door.

How long was she supposed to endure this, anyway? For fuck's sake, she was her squad's leader, not their mother! Not that she would have wanted to be at all connected in any way to Monica's mother, after what she'd heard about what had happened at the beginning of summer break...

And then there was the one little thing she didn't like thinking of, but the thought just wouldn't go away, like an irritating pebble in her shoe that she just couldn't seem to dislodge.

Why was everyone in the house getting some except her?

She settled into a slow jog around the block. She wasn't about to go into the full morning workout routine that she'd developed at such a time, when she was so tired and worn out. She was in no condition for it then, and she knew it. She took her training very seriously, after all. She just... She needed...

Her right hand reflexively drifted over to the metal band on her left wrist, and she chuckled softly despite herself and shook her head.

She knew what she needed.

Who she needed.

(a/n: Okay, I don't know if you'll get more then a 30-second clip here, so if you can't, go here - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-_rUFOGy67c - because you really need to hear the whole song to get the full effect.)

She'd had bad days before, but this was shaping up into one of the worst ones yet.

It wasn't that something had gone hugely wrong, so much as it was not one single thing was going right. She'd woken up late, the paperwork she'd filled out the day before had been incorrect and thus needed to be redone, the gun she'd been using at the firing range had misfired in such a way that it had burned her, the nurse present had used the wrong kind of lotion on it and triggered an allergic reaction (which had nearly required a trip to the hospital before the real doctor had managed to fix things), she'd somehow lost her favorite pair of running shoes, the exercise bar she'd used in the gym had snapped off in the middle of one of her chin-ups (which resulted in her not only biting her tongue, but also being smacked in the head with the bar; all she knew about that was that it was the result of some experiment in the science lab gone awry, and that it wouldn't be happening again), and when she'd gone out for a run she'd ended up slipping and falling down in the mud left by the recent rainstorm... twice.

By that point, the headache that had been plaguing her since the gym had grown to the point where she felt if she just let out the scream that was building in her throat, it would only make things worse.

Still, she stubbornly continued trying to make it through her day, when any sane person would have gone back to bed and stayed there until it was the next day. Not that anyone who knew her would have been surprised. Her stubbornness had become almost legendary over the past three years. And yet... She was only human. She had limits, and given how tense things had been at home before she'd left (a full two months left in her summer vacation, but Phipps had allowed her to move into the squad's new house early, after some persuasion), she'd already been on edge. This day...

Frankly, she really wanted someone to hug her and tell her things would be all right, only she knew no one there would. And she probably wouldn't have wanted them to try, because they weren't...

She sighed and sat down on a bench, resting her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands. She'd managed to avoid harassing Amy for any details on Nayana fairly well thus far, not wanting to come across as some kind of stalker. Amy had assured her that she was okay, and said she was trying to integrate herself back into civilian life, with her family. And Raquel was thrilled for her, really she was.

But still, if she could just talk to her, just hear her voice, even for a few minutes...

She was actually about to call Amy on her comm to ask her how possible such a thing might be when she noticed something missing from her wrist.

Where... Where was her bracelet?

Oh, no, no, NO, NO! This was NOT happening! This could NOT be happening!

She was up off the bench like a shot, frantically scouring the ground back the way she'd come while desperately trying to remember the last time she'd seen it on her wrist. She came up blank on both counts, and expanded her search area, figuring that as much as she'd been swinging her arms, it was possible the bracelet could have flown some distance.

It wasn't there. The one thing she had that had been Nayana's, that she'd given her as proof that she'd actually felt something for her, that their time together had maybe meant something (or so Raquel had chosen to interpret it)... and she just lost it.

No longer caring about the pain in her head - it couldn't possibly become any worse then the one in her heart - she fell to her knees and screamed. "What do You want from me?!" she demanded furiously, glaring angrily up at the gray and overcast sky. "I'm doing the best I can, all right?! I'm doing what everybody wanted! I'm being the good girl, the good daughter, the good agent... Do You hear me?" Her fists clenched so tightly she was surprised they didn't start bleeding. "All my life, I've done what was expected of me! But it's just... It's too much! I can't DO this alone, anymore! And when I actually find someone who makes it all bearable, who actually makes me feel worth something, and desirable... You take her away from me, too! I don't care what it is, but damn it all, give me some kind of sign as to what I'm supposed to be doing! If this isn't it, then TELL ME NOW!" She choked out a sob, and became suddenly aware that she wasn't alone.

She hadn't seen or heard anyone approaching, which meant that there were only one or two people it could be. And since she was fairly close to the academy... "Not now, Amy," she muttered as she climbed painfully to her feet. All she wanted to do was go home and cry, maybe curl up with some ice cream or something. Maybe a hot bath.

Maybe she'd never get out of it.

"I just..." Gathering herself together as best she could, she said, with as much dignity as she could muster right then, "I'm having a bad day." And she took off toward her squad's new house without once looking back.

"Wanting, waiting, hoping, praying," Raquel sang quietly to herself as she jogged. She would have loved to sing at the top of her lungs, but she was still in a residential neighborhood, and people were asleep. The lucky bastards. "Oh I feel like I'm suffocating. There's nothing left to lose..."

That had been one godawful day, all right. She'd felt so horribly... defeated, by the time she'd gotten home. All she'd needed was for the skies to open up and try to drown her in a sudden downpour for the cliché to be complete. It hadn't, thankfully - the absolute last thing she'd needed right then was to come down with a cold, or something - but that one minor bit of good fortune had done precious little to improve her mood.

"If all that I have is the sweetest denial, if all I can give is the rest of my life, then I'm over pretending that I can survive without you. Thought I was stronger than love, but I guess that nobody's immune."

At least nothing else had gone wrong that day. She hadn't left the house again once she got back, lest she be struck by an errant city bus or a meteor or something. But maybe God had decided to go easy on her after her little meltdown, as everything in the house had behaved as it should, dinner hadn't spontaneously combusted, and there hadn't been any freak power outages while she was watching The Middleman.

Her subconscious had evidently decided to take pity on her, as well, because after she'd gone to sleep - well after, sometime during the very early hours of the next morning, in fact - it had finally coughed up what she'd wanted... what she'd needed to see.

It was one of the...odder dreams she remembered having.

Not worst - that distinction still went to her nightmare about the corpse-filled DEBS academy and drowning in blood - but strangest.

She 'woke' to find Nayana in her room.

That in and of itself wasn't terribly unusual. She dreamed of Nayana constantly, and being surprised by the other woman in her room was hardly an uncommon theme. But at first, Nayana had seemed... well, almost apologetic at 'waking' her. "Hey," she said softly.

"Hey," Raquel croaked back. She cleared her throat - privately amazed at how real this dream felt (though really, those were the best kind) - and tried again. "Um... hi. What...?"

"I'm sorry to disturb you," Nayana said, the hint of a smile on her face. She set down the notebook she'd been looking through - Raquel belatedly recognized it as her song book, and felt a flicker of protectiveness mixed with anxiety (Did Nayana like what she'd read?), and just a dash of confusion because usually by now in her other dreams there would be a lot less talking and a lot more... other physical activity - and took a few steps closer to the bed. Raquel struggled to sit up, but felt so drained that all she could manage to do was prop herself up against her pillows a bit.

That was odd. She didn't usually have that kind of problem in her dreams. But then again, considering how she'd felt when she'd fallen asleep, it made sense. She hadn't just been physically tired, she'd been mentally and emotionally drained, too.

Clearly, her subconscious wanted her to try and deal with that.

Sometimes, her self-aware dreams really sucked.

"You never disturb me, you know that," she replied honestly. Nayana raised an eyebrow, and Raquel added, "I mean, much as I enjoy the more... physical dreams, it's always nice to talk to you, too."

Nayana seemed to blink at that, then gave her an odd smile. Part understanding, part resigned, part relieved, and part sad. "Well, you've had a rough day."

Raquel chuckled mirthlessly. "You don't know the half of it."

"Maybe not, but I know enough." She reached out and took Raquel's hand, and she felt something slender and cool being placed on her wrist. "Do be more careful with this, won't you? I won't always be around to find it for you."

This was going to hurt like hell when she woke up and found the bracelet wasn't really there, but for now... She felt tears threaten, and forced them back. Even in her dream, she doubted Nayana wanted to see her cry. "Thank you," she said, trying her best to keep her voice level. She was silent for a long moment, then said, "I'm trying. I'm trying my best to keep my promise - to keep all my promises - and to make you proud of me. It's just so... hard..."

"You're doing fine," Nayana assured her, hand resting on her shoulder. "Raquel... Why aren't you at home?"

"You don't already know?"

"I want you to tell me."

She sighed. "Because... Because I just couldn't take it anymore. The usual politics are bad enough, especially with both sides trying to throw me into the middle whether I want to be there or not, but with the whole push for statehood issue building up more and more, I just... There was too much tension and pressure. I'm actually more relaxed here, where I might be assigned to go on dangerous, possibly life-threatening missions. How wrong is that?"

"Not very wrong at all, really," Nayana murmured, seeming to talk more to herself then Raquel. "They're trying to make you into something you're not, to have you fit into a mold that was never yours to begin with. I can relate."

This was new. None of her other dreams that touched on Nayana's new home life had shown her as not quite happy with how things were progressing. She wanted Nayana to be happy, after all, and since that was what was keeping her away... "Yes, but you know that they love you."

"And you think your family doesn't love you?" Nayana countered, sitting down next to Raquel. She was so close that Raquel could smell the faint scent that was distinctly Nayana - subtle, quiet, a hint of spice, and utterly intoxicating to her. She could never quite manage to find a duplication of it in real life, but her brain had never forgotten it.

"No. I know they do. I just... Sometimes, I wonder if they really respect me. Not my siblings so much as my parents, and grandparents."

"They want what's best for you, I'm sure. They just don't know what that is."

She chuckled tiredly again. "I suppose that's fair. Neither do I."

"I can't tell you that," Nayana said simply. "Ultimately, no one can but you. What I can tell you, however, is that right now, what you need is to rest."

"Just the fact that we're even having this conversation fairly proves that I'm asleep, don't you think?"

Nayana neither agreed nor disagreed. "I didn't say sleep, I said rest. You've been pushing yourself too hard. You're trying to learn, to do too much at once. Yes, exercise and training are essential in your line of work, but you also need to give your body time to recover and properly adjust to what you're expecting of it. I didn't get to be as good as I am overnight. And frankly, you're never going to be as good as me. I mean no insult by it, but I was able to absorb as many disciplines, moves, and fighting styles as I have because I'm a pretender. You don't have that. Pick one style and focus on it. That isn't to say you can't add in elements from others, but trying to learn several separate, radically different styles of martial arts at once will just confuse you. And most of all, you need to relax."

"What do you mean?" Raquel asked, struggling to absorb everything she'd just been told.

"If you get too stressed out, you're just going to end up defeating yourself before anyone else can. You're doing very well - far ahead of what the DEBS have projected for you - so don't ruin it by pushing yourself until you're worn into submission." She idly stroked Raquel's hair, and the younger girl leaned into the contact. "And you don't need to worry about getting my approval. You already have that."

She felt something melt inside her. "I miss you," she whispered. "I know we were only together for such a short time, but... I-I just..."

"I know," Nayana said, gently silencing her. "And you know that you don't need to wait for me. Really, that it would probably be better for you if you didn't."

"No one else draws me in like you do," she said honestly - she was never anything less then that with Nayana, awake or asleep. "Sometimes, I feel like when you left, you... took my heart with you." She shook her head, feeling oddly drowsy. "Stupid, I know. But no one else is all that attractive to me."

"That could change."

"Maybe. But it hasn't, yet." She captured Nayana's hand and gently rubbed her thumb over the back of it. "But then, I'm sure I don't have to tell you how I feel, Miss Pretender."

Nayana seemed oddly uncomfortable. "Emotional issues... have never been my strong point," she admitted. "Enough of this, though. You need to rest - really rest." She placed a gentle kiss on Raquel's forehead. "Sleep, now."

She wanted to protest that she was already asleep, but felt herself drifting off before she could, the dream fading away before her eyes.

Of course, the morning after that, she'd been shocked beyond words to find her missing bracelet securely fastened to her wrist. She'd stared at it dumbfounded for a moment, then realized that Amy must have gone back and found it for her. She'd been about to call her to thank her for that when it occurred to her that Amy must have snuck into her team's old house - where Raquel and her team now lived - to give it back to her, and that her sleeping mind must have incorporated the blonde into her dream, casting her as the only other assassin pretender that she knew of, the one Raquel had really wanted to see.

Immediately after that realization came the mortifying idea that she might have acted... inappropriately toward Amy. It completely explained "Nayana's" uncharacteristic reluctance to get all that physically close to her, and her unexpected sympathy. She knew Amy was able to get into Nayana's head - she'd proven as much back when Kali had been hired to kill Lucy Diamond - and could only hope that what she'd said - assuming that most of the conversation hadn't been a product of Raquel's own mind - was accurate.

After that, it had occurred to her that if any of the dream had come from Amy, she must have been talking in her sleep, at least enough to give the Perfect Score something to work with. That she might have said... and acted out...

Mortifying. Absolutely mortifying. Too much for words.

So she'd avoided Amy as best she could for the past two months - easy enough when the other wasn't a student at the academy anymore, and thus didn't hang around the campus; not to mention she was too busy building her and Lucy's dream home - and forced on a pleasant exterior when their paths happened to cross.

Amy seemed determined to play it cool on their rare interactions, as if nothing had happened, and Raquel was grateful for that, happily playing along. Maybe she didn't want Lucy to know what had happened, who knew? Hell, who cared?

She began jogging back toward the house, confident that Kathleen and Monica must have exhausted themselves by then.

If she was lucky, she might even be able to squeeze in a couple more hours of sleep before she had to get up for breakfast.

It was, after all, the only way to make sure the rest of her team all actually had something to eat in the morning.

She felt another flash of resentment, but pushed it down and kept jogging.

**********************************************
0700 hours

Monica sighed happily as she stretched out, feeling a pleasant soreness throughout her body from last night... and early that morning.

She'd never dreamed that she'd find someone who could make her feel so satisfied. And not just in a physical sense - though Kathleen certainly did that, Monica thought with a grin - but completely.

She was... happy. Never in her life had she felt so balanced, so complete, as she did when she was with Kathleen.

Why can't everyone understand that?

She sighed at the thought, feeling a good part of her happy mood evaporate. Even three months later, it still hurt her.

"Wha's wrong?" Kathleen muttered sleepily as she began to stir, as if she'd somehow sensed her girlfriend's distress even in her sleep.

Monica smiled at her, feeling a fresh surge of love and affection for her. "I'm happy."

Kathleen blinked up at her in confusion, sitting up in bed. "So... what's wrong, then?"

"Why does something have to be wrong?" Kathleen simply folded her arms across her chest, waiting patiently. After being briefly distracted by what that did to her breasts, Monica shook her head and made herself focus on Kathleen's face.

For now.

"Nothing's wrong," she insisted. "I just wish... I wish that people could accept that I love you, and that you make me complete."

Kathleen looked as if she was about to point out that people did accept that - most everyone they knew, in fact - but stopped. She knew who Monica was referring to, after all. She'd been there after it had happened. "Give them time," she said softly.

"That may not be enough."

"Well, that will be their problem, not yours. If they choose to reject such an amazing young woman such as you just because of who you love, then they don't deserve to have you in their lives."

"But they're my parents," Monica insisted, pained.

"That does not give them the right to treat you the way they did," Kathleen replied firmly, locking eyes with Monica. "Nothing does. They're just lucky they were gone by the time I found out what happened."

Monica all but bounced giddily as she watched her parents approach her dorm. True, she could have flown back on her own, but since they'd been nearby anyway on business, they'd insisted on picking her up.

Truth be told, she hardly minded. She missed her family after being away from them for so long. And she could hardly wait to tell them the news.

In most physical respects, she was very obviously her father's daughter. Thomas Ackerman had the same red hair, the same green eyes, the same accent... if a bit thicker. Of course, he was also a good seven or eight inches taller, and had a smattering of freckles that Monica's mother's British ancestry had let her avoid.

The brunette Claudia was actually shorter then her daughter, with her hair barely reaching the bottom of her neck. Monica's older brother, James, more closely resembled their mother, occasionally making it hard for some people who didn't know them to believe the two siblings were even related.

Neither of her parents had even changed out of their business attire, so she knew they must have been eager to see her again, too. She smiled wider as she embraced first one, then the other. She herself was just wearing a pair of blue shorts and a DEBS t-shirt, with a pair of white sneakers. It was, after all, a summer day in Los Angeles. Maybe Raquel liked this kind of weather, but for a Boston-born girl like her, the excessive heat could be a bit much. She had no idea how her parents weren't sweating up a storm.

At least she wouldn't be there during the middle of the summer, when the temperatures would reach their peak. Good air conditioning or not, she knew she'd end up wilting. Boston in the summer could be plenty hot, true, but it didn't frequently hit triple-digits up there. And there wouldn't be nearly as much smog and other air pollution.

She also hoped her parents hadn't caught her wincing when she'd hugged them. The injury to her side was healing quite nicely, true enough, but she still had a ways to go before she was back to perfect health, and she didn't want to worry them.

Of course, that would make picking up the dark red duffel bag that she'd packed some of her clothes and more important items in a bit of a challenge (thankfully, the DEBS would take care of moving the rest of her belongings to the house they'd be living in next semester). To stall for time until she felt able to bend down and pick it up without wincing, she asked, "So, how is everything at home, then? Jimmy told me that the Wilsons were having a bit of trouble with some construction on front of their store."

Claudia's lips thinned, though whether from disapproval at the siblings gossiping or what the family's friends were dealing with, Monica wasn't sure. "They were, yes, but things seem to have straightened out," she said, then changed the subject before Monica could press her for details. "Are you all right? You seem a bit... stiff."

She sighed. "Aye, that I am. I was a wee bit injured on our last mission." Which fairly well pushed the limits of the term 'wee bit' to the breaking point, but she didn't want to go into that now. "I'm sure you've heard about that whole mess with The Centre by now." The story was everywhere, after all. "But don't worry, Kathy's been taking good care of me." Her lips subconsciously pulled up into a warm smile at the thought of her girlfriend.

It didn't go unnoticed. "Monica, is there something you'd care to tell us?" Thomas asked stiffly.

She hesitated, then nodded decisively to herself. "Actually... yes, there is. I know this'll be a shock, but Kathy and I-"

"No."

She blinked at her father in confusion. "I-I'm sorry? No... what?"

"No, you are not going to tell us what you seem to think you are," he replied sternly. "You are not going to try and say that you're engaged in some kind of immoral and perverted... relationship with that girl."

"There is nothing wrong with Kathy!" Monica exclaimed heatedly.

"If she's trying to seduce you into some kind of life of depravity, then there most certainly is," he said coldly. "And keep your voice down, young lady. People can hear you." Indeed, they were drawing a few curious looks from other departing students wandering around the outside of the dorms.

She couldn't have cared less. "Kathy isn't trying to do anything to me!" she told them, speaking even louder then before. "And everyone here already knows about us!"

"How long has this been going on?" Claudia exclaimed, horrified.

"We only got together at the start of the year, and even then we took things extremely slow," she said, trying to will them to understand. "We only came out and made things official shortly before that whole mess with The Centre started."

"And you've been living with this girl?"

"We weren't-"

"Absolutely not," Thomas said, cutting her off. "Like hell am I letting my little girl stay here and be corrupted by that-"

"Shut up!" she shouted, taking them aback. "You have no right to talk about her like that!" She paused as it occurred to her that Raquel must have felt something like this when her teammates were insulting Nayana, and felt a brief flash of shame. "You don't know anything about her-"

"Do NOT take that tone of voice with me, young lady!"

"I love her! Why can't you-"

"Don't you DARE say that!" Claudia said, slapping her hard enough to make her stagger back a step. To her credit, she instantly looked sorry she'd done it, but by then it was too late. The damage was done.

Monica's hand had gone up to her cheek as she looked at her mother in shock. Her mouth moved soundlessly, and Claudia looked away before she could read the question forming there.

Thomas looked uncomfortable, but pressed on. "We're going, now. We're going to have a long talk about this when you get home, young lady. And you're not going to be seeing this 'Kathy' again." As if they'd never met Kathleen. They'd even liked her, at the time.

"I will not," she whispered.

His eyes narrowed. "Let me perfectly clear, then. As long as you continue with this perversion, you will not set one foot inside our house." And with that, he turned and was nearly dragged to their rental car by a visibly unhappy Claudia.

Monica... just stood there.

What had just happened? Why... why had things gone so... so... They...

She couldn't move. Couldn't think. Could barely breathe. Dimly, she was aware of the tears spilling down her cheeks, and knew some people must have been looking at her, but what did it matter?

What... What was she supposed to do, now? She'd just been... and they had... God, what she wouldn't have given for one of Kathleen's hugs just then...

Kathleen.

Her mind instantly seized on that in desperation, and she turned and ran back inside the dorm, forgetting about her bag completely.

Kathleen's parents had come to pick her up, too, and last Monica knew, they were still packing things up. God, please let her still be there. Please! It was all she could think of. She needed Kathleen.

Understandably, Kathleen was rather surprised when Monica burst into their former room. They'd already said their goodbyes for the summer, after all... not that they wouldn't be keeping in constant contact the entire time they were apart. Not that she had anything against the idea of seeing her girlfriend one more time in the flesh before they had to part company, but the greeting she'd been about to say died on her lips as she got a good look at Monica.

Her face looked... blotchy. Some women could cry and look beautiful, but Monica wasn't one of them. She didn't even seem to really notice that she was crying, which was even more alarming. "Kathy," she choked out, then, heedless of the injury to her side, dashed across the room and flung herself at Kathleen, sending them both to the ground. Kathleen managed to keep them mostly upright as she crashed down onto her knees, Monica's body shaking in her grasp as she heaved heartbroken sobs.

"Baby, what's wrong?" she asked, but that seemed to only make Monica cry harder. So she did the only thing she could think of: she held her, stroked her back, and whispered reassurances. "It's all right. I'm here," she said softly.

"I don't... I don't know what... I-I..."

"Shh..." Her parents had been bringing some of her belongings down to the car, so she'd been the only one still there for Monica's entrance. She was heartily glad now that she hadn't been able to find that book she'd been looking for, or she might have been gone, too. Still, though, as she knelt there, a seemingly shattered Monica in her arms, she didn't really think that they were probably starting to wonder where she was, as the minutes ticked by.

Not until her mother appeared in the doorway saying, "For Heaven's sake, Kathleen, it's just a book..." Her voice trailed off as she got a good look at the sight waiting for her.

"Monica, tell me what happened," Kathleen said, gently but firmly, ignoring her mother for the moment.

"I... I t-told my parents," Monica stammered. "About u-us."

"Ah." Inwardly she swore at the elder Ackermans. How dare they do this to her sweet, innocent Monica? "I take it that things didn't go well?"

Monica sobbed harder. "N-n-no. I, I, I just..." She took a deep breath and tried to compose herself. "I can't go home."

"Look, baby, I know that the idea can't seem all that appealing-"

"They said so. I can't go home, unless I... unless we..." She started shaking, and Kathleen worried vaguely that she might be going into shock.

She knew she was certainly shocked. They'd kicked her out? For being gay? Her own parents? "Are you sure that they... I mean, they were probably upset..."

"I-I'll say."

And, now that she'd pulled back a bit, she was able to get a good look at Monica's face. "Monica, look at me," she requested. She reached up to touch Monica's cheek, and the redhead flinched a bit at the contact, drawing in a breath.

"Sorry," she muttered, not meeting Kathleen's eyes. "Stings."

"They hit you?" Kathleen asked, horrified.

"She didn't mean to," Monica said, seemingly by reflex.

"She..." Kathleen shook her head. "You're coming home with me," she decided abruptly.

Monica looked up at her, hope warring with uncertainty. "Are you sure that...? I m-mean, they may not l-let me..." She started to cry again.

Holding her girlfriend tighter against herself, Kathleen shot her mother a pleading look over Monica's shoulder that plainly said 'Fix this!' It had been a while since her daughter had given her that look - since she'd needed to - but that unhesitating trust that her mother could fix everything, could make any problem go away, still lingered.

She was touched.

She was also horrified by what she was able to understand of the girl's sobbed out story. "Kathleen's right, dear. You're going to be coming home with us," she said, walking over and placing a comforting hand on Monica's shoulder. "We've been wanting to get to know you better since Kathleen told us how serious things were getting between you, this'll give us the chance."

"A-are you sure that..."

"Of course you'll be welcome, and of course we have room."

"Thank you, Mrs. Webb." Monica looked relieved... and tired, with lingering shadows of pain still in her eyes.

"Melissa," she corrected gently, smiling faintly.

Monica returned it shakily. "Melissa," she repeated, leaning against Kathleen. She'd started to close her eyes when they suddenly snapped open. "Oh, hell. I left my bag downstairs, didn't I?"

Kathleen chuckled softly. "I'm sure it's still there."

"My hero," Monica said softly, bringing them both back to the present.

"Nobody hurts my baby while I'm around," Kathleen replied, giving her a slow, lingering kiss. The rest of the summer had certainly gone a lot more smoothly then that. And while her parents might have been initially thrown by the idea that their little girl was in love - deeply, fully, completely in love - and probably hadn't wanted to think about her and Monica getting intimate, she'd made it clear that Monica would be staying in her room, end of discussion.

Monica had needed her, had needed to be close to her. Besides, with the wound in her side - and running all the way up from the ground floor of the dorm hadn't done her any favors in that respect - prevented them from engaging in anything terribly strenuous.

For a while.

"Think we should get up now?" Monica asked after she'd pulled back. It had taken her a little while to adjust to summer in Missouri - the temperature and humidity surpassed even what they'd been forced to endure over the course of their last mission in Florida (which, admittedly, had been in October) - and Monica had quickly taken to staying close to the Webb family pool. Kathleen had hardly objected.

"Probably," Kathleen said, somewhat reluctantly. "If we don't, you know Raquel will come get us. And is it me, or has she been a bit... cranky, lately?"

Monica frowned in thought. "Maybe a little? I'm not sure. I... haven't been paying much attention to her. Or anyone other then you, really." And despite how flattering that could have sounded, her voice betrayed some shame regarding that oversight.

"To breakfast, then." Of course, this was somewhat easier said then done. Four girls showering in the morning could end up taking a while, after all. She had no idea what kind of water heater the DEBS house had been equipped with, but it had to be pretty damn powerful to not run out of hot water. Fortunately, Bethany had evidently taken to having her shower before she went to bed at night, and Raquel always seemed to take short showers, as if she had other things she wanted to get done, and that was nothing but an unavoidable interruption.

Kathleen and Monica, of course, tended to shower together, which - in theory - reduced the amount of water used.

Apart from a 'Welcome Back' morning of pancakes, Raquel had made it clear that she was not going to be cooking for them, despite being one of the only two people in the house that really knew anything - at all - about cooking. This morning, they found her sitting at the kitchen table, mechanically eating a bowl of cereal and staring straight ahead at nothing. She did little more then grunt in acknowledgment when Monica said 'good morning'.

Monica frowned as she looked through the cabinet for her Froot Loops. Maybe Kathleen was on to something, here.

Bethany came into the kitchen not long after, giving Raquel an odd look before pouring herself a bowl of Cheerios.

Kathleen shook her head. "Rough night, Beth?" The blonde was moving as slowly as she could get away with, and wincing at every loud noise. She'd done the same thing every morning since they'd gotten back a few days ago - and probably even longer, if she really had been there for a week or two longer then the two of them - so they weren't surprised by this point.

Bethany gave her an unamused look, then poured some milk on her cereal and starting to eat. Kathleen shook her head. Afternoons and evenings were usually fine, but mornings with the squad, lately... "Well, I can already tell this is going to be a fun day."

Raquel glared at her and something that sounded like a rumbling growl emerged from her chest. Blinking in surprise, Kathleen looked her over more carefully.

Her posture spoke of coiled tension, her grip on her spoon periodically became white-knuckled until she noticed what she was doing and made herself loosen her grip, and there were dark circles under her eyes. "Are you all right?" she blurted out before she could think better of it.

"Three. Fucking. Hours."

"Um... What?" They were all looking at her in varying shades of confusion and concern, now.

"That's how much sleep I got last night." Raquel's glare hardened and she finally focused on them. "And between the sex olympics next door and making sure Bethany didn't drown in a puddle of her own vomit, it wasn't even three consecutive hours!"

Monica was turning bright red. Kathleen knew how she felt - the idea that Raquel had heard everything was incerdibly embarrassing - but... "Well, thank you for that mental image while I'm eating," she said of Raquel's statement regarding Bethany, setting her spoon down in her bowl. Bethany herself said nothing, merely shifting in what looked vaguely like guilt.

"Well, if it was the first night that all happened, that might be different. But after fifteen straight days of this..."

"I know, I know, you made yourself very clear last night," Bethany said, staring moodily down at her bowl.

"You mean a few hours ago?" Raquel shot back, obviously not feeling any particular desire to be nice about it. "I should hope so. Because I wasn't kidding."

"I got that."

"That would be nice." They ate in silence for a few minutes before Raquel spoke up again. "All right, then. This is what's going to happen: We have to take care of a few final details today before we can properly take over as Sector One this year. I should hope, by now, you don't need me to tell you exactly what you have to do. I will be heading to the computer lab to make sure everything's squared away on the tech end of things, and that our clearance level is finally as high as it should be." She didn't go into any further detail on that. All four of them knew how big of a headache the red tape for the transition to their senior year had been giving her. "After that, I am going to come back here and catch up on my sleep. And if you interrupt me during that... te pegare tan fuerte, que regresaras al kinder!"

"What?" Bethany asked. She'd picked up a few words of Spanish over the years of rooming with Raquel, but that wasn't among them.

"Just don't wake me up. Trust me."

No, this isn't the end of chapter 2. It was just getting so long that I had to break it up - and frankly, after such a long wait, I thought you all deserved something. So we'll call this chapter 2.1, and I'll work on getting 2.2 out as soon as I can. Really, really sorry for the delay!

Quiz lemming strikes again!

2008-11-27T07:00:07Z

Oh, and while I'm here, Happy Thanksgiving to all those that celebrate it! ^_^

Obsidian --

[noun]:

A person of questionable sanity who starts their own cult

'How will you be defined in the dictionary?' at QuizGalaxy.com

Pardon me while I momentarily switch fandoms...

2008-11-14T07:20:00Z

Don't worry, I'm not abandoning any of my DEBS fics. This is just something I had to get out first. (Ye gods, FOUR stories at once. I must be insane.

Title: Do Not Go Quietly... (1/?)
Author: obsidian179
Rating: PG-13, at least so far.
Disclaimer: Grey's Anatomy is the property of ABC and Shonda Rhimes - though considering the treatment they've been giving it, I'm starting to think there should be some kind of DCFS-equivilant for television shows.
Summary: This was NOT how Callie wanted to leave things...

Author's notes: You know, I've never written fic for a show that I've never actually seen a single episode of. (I have seen clips on Youtube and read the fic of others, though. Not quite the same, I know, but at least it seems to have spared me some monumental stupidity on the behalf of ABC...) However, I find that I can't quite just let this sort of thing go by unremarked upon. That, and the muse can be a sucker for some angst. Anyway, please forgive any mistakes or minor mischaracterizations.

And away we go...

Callie Torres was not typically the sort to be given over to introspection.

She was impulsive. She wore her heart on her sleeve. She was aggressive, and confident, and went after what she wanted.

Except when it came to Erica Hahn.

Erica, it seemed, was the exception to every rule. When it came to Erica, Callie was nervous, pulled back when she should have pushed forward, was not at all open about her feelings, and had let her take the lead.

She'd told herself at the time that she'd just learned from her disastrous marriage to George, and that she'd wanted to avoid making the same mistakes. And that was true, to a degree. She hadn't wanted to be burned like that again.

But at the same time, she'd known full well that Erica wouldn't do that to her. Erica had loved her - genuinely loved her. And how had she repaid that love?

She'd freaked out and ran away. Not just once, but multiple times. Why Erica kept taking her back, even - especially - after she'd run to Mark to learn, to clear her head, to prove something to herself... She had no idea.

And now she might never know.

Erica was gone.

And nobody knew where she'd gone to.

Chief Webber - damn him - was more concerned with Erica's threat to go to UNOS regarding the Izzie/Denny debacle. Given that Callie had never said one word about it to him, she could only assume that Erica was actually moving forward with it.

And she had no idea how that made her feel.

She didn't want to defend Izzie. Hell, she couldn't believe she had defended Izzie - in however indirect a manner - to Erica. Had actually sided with Izzie - with the hospital - against her own girlfriend.

She hadn't understood what Erica had been trying to tell her. Not until the next day, when it was far too late.

If Erica didn't make friends easily, she would naturally have an even harder time letting them into her heart. Falling in love... That was the sort of thing that Doctor Hahn, cardio badass extraordinaire, would have actively resisted. She left who she was outside the hospital, she'd said.

Yet, somehow... Somehow, Callie had evidently slipped through the cracks of her armor. Callie had invaded her heart, then promptly misused and abused what should have been a treasured gift.

She didn't wonder why Erica had left her.

She wondered why it had taken so long.

The first few days after Erica mysteriously vanished from the face of the planet had been... tense, to say the least. It took almost an entire day for Callie to notice that people had begun looking at her oddly, edging away from her as subtly as they could.

No mystery there. She was all but radiating a black cloud of misery and depression, and snapped at those brave enough - or foolish enough - to attempt to try and figure out what was wrong with her. Didn't she, Hahn's best friend, know where she'd gone?

No. No, she didn't. And it hurt too much to try and explain to people why that was.

Only Mark Sloan had known they were an item, so he was the only one who wasn't at all surprised that she was looking worse as the week went on, rather then better.

Finally, five days after Erica had left, he managed to corner her at lunch. "Are you even going to try and deal with this?"

"Go away," she said dully, poking listlessly at her salad. Why had she ordered this? Out of all the available choices...

"Shove over, Sloan. Torres and I are going to share a Sapphic salad."

He shook his head. Disgusted with her? Oh, probably. God knew she was disgusted with herself. This was all her fault. Why hadn't she just lured Erica up to the roof and shoved her off? At least that would have been quicker, comparatively painless, and been over in a much faster, more permenant way. This...

"Okay," Mark said abruptly, startling her out of her thoughts. "Tell me what happened."

She stared at him. "You want to talk about emotional issues?" The only thing that would have shocked her more would have been if Christina had sat down with them and suddenly announced that she wanted to be Callie's bestest best friend ever, because she cared more about her then cardio.

Which wasn't so much unlikely as it was drugged-out hallucination territory.

"I know, I know, not really my thing, right?" He nodded. "And that's true. But I would be an absolutely lousy friend if I just left you sitting here looking like you were contemplating slitting your wrists. So out with it."

"I'm the worst girlfriend ever." She hadn't meant to actually say that - hell, she hadn't meant to say anything - but it slipped out before she could stop it, or even think it through.

And she realized it was true.

"What? Why would you-"

She slammed her fork down angrily. She was furious with herself, but she still saw him flinch reflexively. Not unfairly, she had to admit - she had been known for her temper, in the past. 'Cage-fighter Callie', she'd been dubbed. "Because I am! Look at how I treated Erica! She put up with so much of my bullshit, and all the gay panic, and I just, I just... pushed her away more, again and again. I hurt her over and over and over, and still... God, still she loved me. She didn't leave me because she hates me, she left because I treated her like dirt. I didn't deserve to have someone as amazing as her, and she finally realized that if she stayed, I'd grind her down into nothing." She felt tears threaten, but pushed them back ruthlessly. As much as Erica deserved to have her shed a few tears over what they'd lost, this was neither the time nor the place.

Doctor Hahn would not have approved.

Mark was silent for a long moment, pursing his lips in thought. "That was way more melodramatic then I would have said it," he said finally.

It surprised a laugh out of her, likely his intention all along. "Sorry. I guess proximity to Grey and her bunch has affected me."

"That is one of the hazzards of working in this hospital," he agreed, a twinkle in his eyes. "That, and sex in oncall rooms."

"I'm sometimes amazed that any actual medicine gets practiced here," she muttered. She knew how the way the staff seemed to devote more time to their personal lives then actually treating their patients had driven Erica up more then one wall.

"But the point is that we do work together. And in order for me to do my job, I need to leave who I am outside the doors of this hospital."

"And yet it does," he countered. "So, the question becomes, what is it going to take to shake you out of this funk that you're in?"

That question required no thought at all to answer. "Erica."

Not unexpectedly, that brought him up short. Callie, tired of looking at her mostly untouched salad, rose to go throw it away.

She wasn't really hungry, anyway.

Over the next two weeks, Callie managed, at the very least, to pull herself together on the job. No matter how she felt, her patients deserved the very best care she could give them.

She still tended to skip more meals then she ate, and knew she'd lost a few pounds already, but couldn't quite find it within her to care.

She didn't go out for drinks with anyone, anymore. She didn't spend time with Mark, she barely exchanged five words with Christina - and they lived together - and she didn't even care anymore if anyone was whispering or talking about her.

Had anyone figured out what had been going on between her and Erica?

She neither knew nor cared.

Ironically, that probably would have Erica happy. One of the things Callie had freaked out about - one of the many, many things - was people finding out about them. Not that Doctor Hahn wanted to be gossipped about, either, but Callie actively despised it, and had ever since things had gone wrong with George. (Which was an entirely different matter altogether. Callie O'Malley? What the hell had she been thinking?) Now...

If Erica would just come back, would just take her back one last time, she'd shout it from the rooftops, rent a billboard, and dip into her trust fund to have 'Callie Torres loves Erica Hahn' scrawled across the bottom of every major national network.

Because she was not ashamed of Erica, or what they had together. She was ashamed of the way she'd treated it. Treated her.

She knew she'd already had more chances then she deserved, yet still... She hoped.

Because she had to cling to something when she watched the Chief acting chipper, as if his career wasn't in serious jeopardy. When she sees people lauding Izzie Stevens, who she at times thinks should not even be allowed to practice medicine. When she sees all the happy couples, or bed-hopping manwhores, and goes home alone to her cold, empty bed.

When she occasionally drives past Erica's place, and finds no sign of her there.

She needs something. And hope is all she has left.

She has to wonder how long it will be until that's taken from her, too.

Or if she'll somehow destroy it herself, like she has every other good thing in her life.

Maybe she deserves to be alone.

But damn it, Erica deserves an apology. Even if she doesn't want to hear it.

She almost has to laugh, when Addison finally calls her.

Not because Addison called her, no. Because she heard about what was going on from Mark Sloan.

Mark calling in reinforcements is rare enough when it comes to women, but to call Addison?

She hadn't seen that coming. But looking back on the tangled emotional mess that was Seattle Grace, she wonders if she should have.

Addison doesn't berate her. Doesn't pity her. Doesn't say she was right or wrong. She just listens, while Callie pours it out. Everything she'd been thinking, feeling, knowing. Her thoughts, fears, insecurities... All of it.

And she cried. Oh, how she cried. She was amazed that Addison was actually able to understand her through her sobs.

"And you have no idea where she is?" Addison asks when Callie is finally finished. It's ungodly early, and while Callie may have a day off, Addison probably doesn't. Yetshe doesn't try to hurry things along at all.

"No," Callie croaked, her throat sore from all the emotion she'd released after keeping it bottled up for so long. "Almost a month, now... The Chief probably knows, if she's really pushing that UNOS thing, but he's hardly about to tell me. After all, why would he? I'm just a lowly carpenter." She's aware of how bitter that sounds. She simply doesn't care.

Addison, it seems, does. "You are no such thing," she rebuked. "Erica certainly never thought so."

That... was true, she supposed. "That doesn't mean he doesn't," she replied.

Addison paused, and Callie got the idea that she agreed with her, but didn't want to admit it. "The Chief isn't a bad guy, really," she said finally. "He just tends to... lose sight of what's important, sometimes."

"Like I did."

She could all but hear Addison shrugging. "Maybe. God knows he's hardly done better in his lovelife then you have in yours. And really, Callie-"

"I know, I know!" she said, cutting her off. "I treated Erica like dirt, I hurt her feelings again and again, no matter how much she tried to pretend otherwise, or that she doesn't have feelings at all. I just..." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I need to see leaves."

Addison had no way of knowing what that meant, obviously, so she didn't even try to figure it out. "Well, if you're looking for leaves, Central Park was always a great spot to do some leaf watching, back in New York."

Callie laughed mirthlessly. "Yeah, great. I'll, ah, keep that in mind."

Addison pressed on, undaunted. "I still hear from some of my old collagues back there, you know. Hell, no doubt you'll keep in touch with a lot of the people there once you complete your residency."

"Maybe." Though the way she felt right now, she didn't know if she'd actually want to. Even talking to Mark lately left her feeling nauseated, after the part - however unwitting - he'd played in the way things had gone wrong between her and Erica. He was just too big of a reminder of what she'd lost.

"Oh, you will. Ties like that don't just go away," Addison predicted confidently. "Have I ever told you about my residency?"

Callie had to think about that. "A little."

"Well, you'd like the hospital. It may not be Seattle Grace... But then again, it's not Seattle Grace."

"What, they actually focus on their patients?"

Addison laughed. "Actually, yes. And they have a fantastic cardio program. Although from what I hear, they have been looking for a new cardio chief. They may even have found someone, but there's evidently some kind of legal thing going on that I'm not even supposed to know about, let alone discuss."

Callie went very, very, very still. Her mouth opened and closed silently a few times, before she was finally able to force out, "Erica?"

"Anyway, like I said, New York's great for leaf watching this time of year. If you're into that sort of thing." She paused. "And don't need any glasses."

And there was no way, no way in hell, that Addison should have known anything about that discussion. Which meant that there was only one person who could have told her. "Is... Is she okay?" Callie whispered.

Addison paused, then very deliberately replied, "Why don't you go and tell me?" Then she hung up.

And that, Callie decided, was the best idea she'd heard in weeks.

Cherry Blossom: Revisited Chapter 3 - (11/09/2008)

2008-11-10T02:48:20Z

I hate it when offline things conspire with the muse to keep me from writing. But in the end, victory was mine! ;) So, here's the first of what I hope will be several updates.

Title: Cherry Blossom: Revisited (chapter 3/?)

Author: That'd be me. *grins* Andrew, Obsidian, call me what you want. But only if it's nice. ;)

Rating: R. And not for the usual reason, either. ;)

Comments: Stupid weather, chasing away my muse... Show her that you still enjoy our work and comment, won't you, people? Feedback is her food, and if she doesn't get enough here, she tends to go elsewhere without me. ;)

Legal Disclaimer: I do not own 'D.E.B.S.', Angela Robinson does. Though if I had my way, there would have been a sequel or two by now. ;)

Max was in motion before the echoes from the first gunshots died, heading towards Amy and Bobby at a dead run. "Dom, bring her!" she shouted back at her teammate. She still wasn't quite sure what to make of this 'Diane Mellis' person they'd found, but there was no way she was going to leave her behind where she could escape, or get into a position to ambush them, if she turned out to not be on their side.

However, she also couldn't just stand there and talk to her while she tried to figure things out, either. As a louder report that could only have come from Bobby's Magnum drifted across the island, she knew she'd run out of time.

She was vaguely aware of Dominique's, "After you," behind her, and was relieved that she could at least cross that potential problem off her mental worry list. Whatever her faults, Dom always followed orders. Mellis - if that was her real name - wouldn't be a threat.

"What's going on?" Janet asked over the comm. "Amy, is everything all right?"

Silence.

"Max? What's happening?"

"I don't know, yet," Max ground out in response, but she knew that they both remembered her orders: If you get in trouble, fire your weapon and the rest of us'll come running. And now Amy wasn't answering her comm.

Max ran faster.

"Wait!" someone called from behind her. She didn't really recognize the voice, so she guessed it was Mellis. "Wait a minute!"

She didn't want to wait. She wanted to go see what had happened to Amy. But she did slow down a little and let Dom and Mellis catch up with her, if only because she might need them to help with whatever was wrong with Amy.

Mellis did not look happy at all that they weren't all leaving like she'd suggested, but Dom must have offered at least a partial explanation as to why, because all she said was, "I think I know the cave your friends are in."

That caught Max's attention immediately. "Where is it?"

"This way!" She charged down another path, not quite as worn down as the tracks she and whoever had been chasing her had left earlier. "This path goes right to it. It's an old lava cave from before the volcano went extinct, and the surrounding strata had been weakened by construction. From what I was able to find out, Black Dragon simply made it off limits and left it alone. One of them might have ended up trying to hide down there before succumbing completely, or may have just fallen in like your teammates did."

"One of who?" Max asked.

Mellis hesitated before answering, and in that instant Max's comm crackled to life again. "Max? Janet? Can anyone hear me?" The voice was almost completely obscured by static, but still recognizable as Amy.

Max forgot all about her still unanswered question. "Barely, but we're damn glad to hear from you all the same." Mellis had slipped out into the lead while she was distracted, but Dom was still keeping an eye on her. Thus free from having to watch where they were going, she turned her attention back to Amy. "Can you hear us?" Because if the signal was this bad - was there something in the rocks that was screwing it up? - maybe Amy just hadn't heard them calling her before.

"Barely," Amy said, seemingly confirming her hypothesis. "Is everyone all right up there?"

"Are we...? We're fine. What the fuck is going on down there, Bradshaw?"

"We... found someone." A pause. "Sort of."

"How do you 'sort of' find someone?"

The signal was clearing up, indicating Amy - and likely Bobby as well - was moving back toward the entrance. "It's complicated. And confusing. I'll do my best to try and explain once you get us out of here. But unless I'm very mistaken, we might want to break out the hazmat gear. I'd say we wandered into a biohazard situation, here. Possibly Level Two."

"Try Three!" Mellis called back from her position in the lead. "and that's if you're lucky!"

Given that, as far as Max knew, there were only four classifications of Biohazard Levels, that was not something she wanted to hear. "Janet, you still there?"

"Where else would I be? Playing volleyball on the beach?" She was starting to sound out of breath, and Max felt a flash of worry that an asthma attack was imminent - which was also the only thing that saved Janet from a rebuke for inappropriate behavior on the comms.

"Well, listen up. Change of plans: as soon as we collect Amy and Bobby, we're heading back to the chopper to regroup." And more properly interrogate their 'guest', she added silently.

She didn't quite miss the muttered, "Thank you, Jesus," that drifted back from said 'guest'.

"Copy that. We're closer to the cave then the copter, I think, so we'll meet you there."

"Got it." And then there was no more conversation, everyone saving their breath to run. She knew that they, like her, probably wanted nothing more then to get off that damned island, only coming back when they had a few dozen special forces commando teams with them as backup.

So why did she get the feeling things weren't going to be that easy?

**********************************************
Amy kept her gun out as she waited more-or-less patiently for someone to lower them a rope. She wanted out of that cave, the sooner the better.

Bobby kept glancing back deeper into the cave, as if to make sure nothing else lurched out of the darkness. She'd figured he had to be as freaked out as she was when he'd been wholly unable to come up with an answer to her question.

She still had no idea what that thing had been-

-yes, you do.-

-but frankly, she wanted to get out into the sunlight before she tried coming up with answers. Not that she'd necessarily be any safer up there, really, but the light would help, if only from a psychological point of view, and the air would certainly be a lot fresher.

This close to the entrance to the cave, the smell was greatly diminished, and there was some air drifting in, but she could still smell it. She was worried that the putrid scent of the creature-

-the zombie, call it what it is-

-might have been absorbed into their clothes. At least they'd avoided any actual contact, if that thing really was a product of some kind of infectious disease. The other voice she'd heard over her comm - presumably that had been the woman whose distress call had summoned them to the island in the first place, Di-something or other, so at least Max and Dom were getting things done up there - certainly seemed to agree with her in that they should pull back until they could get a better handle on whatever it was they were dealing with, and some backup.

Run away, you mean. You want to run away.

No, she didn't, but she also didn't want to get eaten by a... whatever.

A zombie. Grow up, will you?

Well, that was great. Her mind was telling her to grow up at the same time it tried to convince her that fucking zombies were real.

Ah, sweet irony.

Then there was her main worry, the thing that, more then anything else, made her want to get the hell off that damned island.

If there was one of those things, there was probably more.

A lot more.

"You know, I've seen a lot of things on the job," she remarked to no one in particular. "But I've gotta say, this is a new one."

"I hear ya," Bobby muttered. "I've never even heard of anything like this."

"What, we've actually found something your dad the Super Agent's never encountered before?" Even as she spoke, she knew that was unnecessarily harsh, but she couldn't bring herself to take it back, either.

"Yeah," he said distractedly, and she realized he probably hadn't even been focusing on what she was saying. Any other time that might have annoyed her, but right then she was just grateful. She didn't want to start a fight, along with everything else.

"So, that... was a zombie," Amy tried, grimacing at the taste of the word in her mouth.

That finally managed to catch Bobby's attention. "A what? Oh, come on, Amy, don't be ridiculous."

Somehow, even though that was exactly what she'd just been saying to herself, hearing it coming from Bobby grated on her already frayed temper. "Oh, you're right, Bobby. After all, it was only decomposing, tried to eat us, took several rounds without stopping, and it took a shot to the head to put down for good. What was I thinking?" she asked with such acidic sarcasm that it was a wonder her words didn't burn a hole in the cave floor.

He blinked at her in shock. "Amy..."

"I know it wasn't some kind of creature-feature Hollywood monster!" she shouted. "But all those rumors and legends had to come from somewhere, you know. That the word 'zombie' was taken by moviemakers and horror writers and made into something else doesn't mean it no longer means what it originally referred to!"

"Okay, okay!" he said, holding his hands up in a 'truce' gesture. "I'm sorry! I guess... I'm a little tense."

She took a deep breath, quickly wished she hadn't done so as she fought down the impulse to gag, and gave him a shaky half smile. "I'm sorry, too. I just... I want off this damned island."

"We're working on that now," a voice said from above their heads, and both looked up to see Max staring down at them, an unreadable look on her face. Amy wondered how much of their conversation she'd heard, then decided it didn't matter. All that mattered was the rope that Max was lowering down to them even as she spoke.

Amy looked over at Bobby, who nodded his head toward the rope in an obvious 'after you' gesture, then raised his gun and faced the inside of the tunnel, so he could cover her, just in case. Any other time, she might have objected to the idea that she go first, but there was no real reason not to. Whether it was some kind of misguided chivalry on his part, or he just knew she was a faster climber then he was, or he was just doing it because he cared... Well, she wanted OUT of that cave. Besides, he'd be right behind her.

Fresh air and sunlight had never, ever been more welcome then they were right then. After she and Bobby were back at ground level, Amy had to fight not to collapse to the ground, or run over and hug a tree or something.

Max gave her a moment to enjoy being outside again, then demanded, "All right, what the hell happened down there?"

So Amy told her. She didn't waste time detailing the conversation they'd been having, but other then that, she didn't hold back at all.

"A what?" Max asked when she got to the end of the story.

Amy opened her mouth to reply, paused, then closed it as she studied the stranger in the group. Diane Mellis, she'd been introduced as, which didn't sound familiar at all. But her story obviously did sound familiar to Diane. "You know, don't you?" she asked gently.

Diane nodded. "Yes. And you're right. I haven't quite been able to pin down all of the details, but this virus, whatever it is, seems to... fry the brain, for lack of a better term. The infected become nothing more then brain dead cannibals. They're not actually dead, in a purely biological sense, but... they might as well be. Once the infection gets to that stage, there's no going back. And if there is a cure... I have no idea what it is."

Max still seemed to be having trouble with one point. "Zombies?"

Diane sighed, clearly fighting down her impatience. "That's what they were called way back when they first started showing up, yes. When they were actually given a name at all, and not just called 'the cursed', 'demons', 'monsters', or simply 'creatures'. I think ancient China used to call the virus 'the Eternal Walking Nightmare'. The point is, the virus itself is very real, and has been around for quite some time."

"And I'm assuming it isn't a coincidence that it's popped up here, now," Amy added.

Diane nodded. "No, it isn't. What Black Dragon's done here... Well, it all dates back to World War II, when-"

She was cut off by a sound that none of them wanted to hear just then.

More gunshots.

**********************************************
Janet leaned against a tree as she breathed deeply from her inhaler, Gordon patiently waiting a few feet away. She hated the idea of stopping for a break when Amy and Bobby might need them, but she knew from past experience that when her chest began feeling like that, she didn't have a choice. If she didn't head off an asthma attack when she had the chance, she might need medical attention.

And it was a long way to the nearest hospital.

Once she was sure that her breathing was under control, she turned to Gordon and nodded. "Okay, let's go." As they resumed heading toward the cave, she added, "Sorry about that."

"Hey, it's not a problem," he assured her. "From what Amy said, she and Bobby aren't in any danger, so it's not like we're in that big of a rush."

"Yeah, I know. But still..." She hated the idea that she might be a liability.

"I know." And she suspected he did, too. He was definitely more sensitive then his partner. Though, really - and out of respect for Amy's feelings, she'd never actually say this aloud - that wasn't exactly a huge challenge. "Hold up," he said suddenly, stopping. She jogged back a few steps to join him as he stood there, frowning. "Do you hear that?"

"Hear wha-" she began to ask, then her eyes widened as she heard it, too.

A moaning sound, quiet at first, but building in volume as they stood there. She nearly asked if it was the wind, but managed to stop herself. No, that was not just the wind. That sort of thing was NEVER just the wind.

There was a sudden movement in the brush off to the side, and a shape stumbled out of the jungle. It was soon joined by another, then a third, and a fourth.

More and more of them came lurching out of the jungle, and Janet gagged as the stench finally reached them. They smelled like they were rotting away... and looked it, too. There were gaping wounds galore, many had skin that was drying up, one was actually missing an arm completely... and none of them seemed to notice, or especially care. They simply moaned and staggered toward her and Gordon, eyes milky and unseeing, yet locked unerringly on them.

Janet paused for several seconds as she took all that in, then came to a decision. "Oooooookay, I say we run like hell. You with me?"

"Well, I would like to challenge them to a huge game of Monopoly, but damn the luck, I forgot the game at home. So yeah, let's am-scray."

They made it several steps away before more of the... things... emerged directly in the middle of their path, cutting them off.

"So, are we as surrounded as I think we are?" she asked, fighting down the feeling of hysteria that threatened to bubble over.

"Probably more so," Gordon replied, listening to the growing moans. And there did seem to be more of them now then there had been before, Janet realized.

Well... shit. "Hold it right there!" she shouted at the approaching horde. As she'd been fairly well expecting by then, they ignored her. Or rather, they didn't even seem to register that she'd spoken at all.

She shot one in the chest. It staggered and fell down, but before she could cheer, it began hauling itself back to its feet, the others just moving around it. One actually tripped over it, knocking them both to the ground, but again, they singlemindedly continued to advance on them.

Come on, Janet, what are you doing? Look at these things. What do you need to do to stop them? Well, yeah, but... Frankly, her brain didn't really want to go there.

She had no choice, though. She shot one in the head.

It stayed down.

Gordon sighed. "I was afraid of that," he said, sounding resigned. She knew how he felt. It did pretty well cement what they were dealing with, didn't it?

Fucking zombies.

If she got home alive, she might never leave L.A. again.

She and Gordon concentrated on the zombies in their path, punching themselves a hole, then broke into a run before the ones coming from every other direction could get to them.

Almost.

Gordon had to struggle free of a few that suddenly emerged from the bushes as he was running by them, and as Janet paused for a second to shoot one of them off him, she was abruptly yanked off balance.

She screamed.

The moans of the creatures surrounding them grew louder, though she doubted that it was because of that. Clearly, the idea of a fresh meal excited them.

Well, that wasn't going to happen. She smashed her gun into the skull of the thing holding her-

-creepyslimygetitoffgetitoffGETITOFF!-

-which loosened it's grip enough for her to pull free and shoot it in the head at point blank range. A gout of brain matter, fluid, and skull fragments burst out of the opposite side of its skull.

She had no idea why zombies would bleed, and right then, she couldn't have cared less. All that mattered was that they were able to pull ahead of the pack and break into a flat-out run.

"What the hell was that?!" she demanded as they ran.

"No clue," he replied, periodically glancing behind them. They might not have been quite like the zombies from the movies, but at least these ones also didn't seem quite able to run. "You okay?"

"I think so." She stumbled briefly over a root, but managed to keep her footing. All the same, the motion jostled her arm and she hissed in pain. "Mostly." She shuddered. "Gross... I think one of them bit me..."

**********************************************
"Get back to the copter! Right now!"

Janet's voice suddenly burst from their comms before the other DEBS could do more then figure out which direction the gunshots had come from. "Janet, what's-" Max began, but Janet uncharacteristically cut her off.

"RIGHT NOW!"

As if to underscore her frantic words, a distant moan drifted to them as if carried on the wind.

Diane stiffened and exchanged suddenly alarmed looks with Amy. That was enough to overcome any hesitation Max might have had left. "All right, everybody evac, double time!"

They mostly stuck to the path on their way back to the village, since any time they might have gained by just cutting through the jungle and heading straight there would have been negated by the increased possibility of them getting lost, or stumbling over something and maybe even injuring themselves. Even Diane didn't seem to know the island well enough for that.

They ran into Janet and Gordon on the way, not needing to exchange any words. Much faster then they'd left it, they returned to the village, blew through it, and tore down the path back to the Chinook.

Max was heartened by the sound of rotors whining to life as they drew closer. She'd called the pilot as soon as she was able - cursing the jamming field in place around the island the entire time - and informed him of... part of the situation. She could hardly have used the word 'zombies' and expected him to take her seriously, since he hadn't seen what her team had, but all he needed to know was that the mission had been compromised, and they had to pull out now.

When they reached the clearing where they'd set down, however, it immediately became apparent that something was wrong. The Chinook looked like it was trying to take off - perhaps to come get them - but it was wavering drunkenly in the air. It made it up thirty feet, then jerked down sharply, allowing them to see motion in the cockpit.

Evidently, one or more of the creatures had gotten aboard, somehow.

Even as they watched helplessly, the Chinook descended rapidly to slam sideways into the ground. Its rotors shattered, pieces flying every which way, and the pilot and his attackers were flung out of sight.

For a long moment, the group simply stood there immobile, stunned at what had just happened. Then Max saw it.

The fuel tanks had ruptured - hardly surprising, after a vicious crash like that - and a stream of gasoline was getting closer to where the sparks shooting from the ruined motor for the blades were landing on the ground. "Fall back!" she shouted, and the others wasted no time in obeying the order.

They'd barely made it twenty feet before the fuel ignited, and a few seconds after that, the helicopter exploded with earth-shaking force.

They were trapped on the island with a horde of flesh eating zombies, with no evident possibility of escape, or rescue.

And no one back home knew it.

Okay, I am so, so, SOOOOOOOO sorry for the delay! Unfortunately, real life decided to strike back, with a vengeance. I think I've beaten it back for the time being, though. ;)

Prometheus Unbound - ch. 1 (10/11/08)

2008-10-11T18:55:37Z

Despite my having to go in to work today, the muse seems to be in a good mood. I think she hates me. ;)

Title: Prometheus Unbound (1/?)

Author: That'd be me. *grins* Andrew, Obsidian, call me what you want. But only if it's nice. ;)

Rating: R (C'mon, it's a sequel to Pantheon. What did you expect? ;) )

Comments: At long last, it's finally here. ^_^ Hopefully you'll like this one as much as you did Pantheon, if not more so. Now, there is going to be a third fandom included this time around, but, as before, I'm not telling you what it is, yet. You'll find out soon enough, don't worry.

Legal Disclaimer: I do not own 'D.E.B.S.', as I am not Angela Robinson. I also don't own 'The Pretender' (which was created by Steven Long Mitchell and Craig W. Van Sickle). Nor do I own .

Chapter One
Doctor Jeffrey Gold observed the girl sitting in the plush chair on the other side of his desk with interest. He knew precious little about her beyond the fact that her first name was Amy, she'd recently escaped from some mysterious people who had clearly mistreated her in some fashion, and she was proving to be one of the hardest nuts to crack he'd ever been presented with.

She stared back at him with a pleasant expression, which barely seemed to flicker no matter what he asked. She was unfailingly polite, open, and spoke with complete honesty.

And she hadn't actually answered a single question he'd asked.

A few times - such as when he'd asked her what her birthday was - she genuinely hadn't seemed to know the answer, and he'd gotten the impression that she was frustrated by that lack of knowledge. The rest of the time, though, he had to wonder if she was treating this like some kind of game: How many questions could she answer without actually telling him anything before he caught on?

When he asked her about it, though, she looked back at him in confusion, wondering what he was talking about.

He rose from his chair to get something from the filing cabinet off to the side. As he was turning back, he could have sworn he saw a small blurr of motion pass through his peripheral vision. "What was that?" he asked as he returned to his seat.

"What was what?" she replied, eyebrow raised.

He paused, then shook his head with a slight sigh. As he did so, he noticed that the Mr. Potato Head he kept on his desk to entertain some of his younger patients was gone. "Amy, where's Mr. Potato Head?"

Her face screwed up in confusion. "Where's Mr. what?" There was a screech of tires outside his open window, followed by an irate honking of several horns. Amy looked idly toward the window, but made no move to get up and investigate. Since they were on the 14th floor of the office building, traffic sounds weren't usually a problem, so whatever was going on down on the street went largely ignored.

Thinking that perhaps she simply hadn't known what it was called, he said, "It's a children's toy. It consists of a plastic model of a potato, which can be decorated with attachable plastic parts, such as a mustache, hat and nose, to make a face."

She stared at him for a long moment, then replied, "You didn't have one."

He blinked. "Yes, I did."

"No, you didn't," she insisted, looking both baffled and certain. Tilting her head a bit, he asked, "Are you feeling all right, Doctor?"

He was beginning to wonder. "I'm fine, thank you, Amy." He decided to set the question of the missing toy aside for another time. "It would really help if you could tell me more about where you were before Michael and Diane found you," he told her, trying to get the conversation back on track. Or on track in the first place.

"I can't see how."

That, he decided, might have been the single most truthful thing she'd said to him the entire session. "Amy, I can't help you if you don't let me."

"I didn't ask for your help."

"Perhaps not, but if you want to stay with Michael and Diane, you'll need it." He watched her digest that for a moment, then asked, "Is that what you want?"

She seemed to momentarily have trouble with the question. "What do I want?" she wondered, barely audible, as if that were an utterly alien concept. The question clearly hadn't been meant for him.

She was silent for almost two full minutes as she thought it over. "I... Yes, I do," she decided.

He nodded. "All right, then." Good, they were finally making progress. "Can you tell me-"

"I don't want to talk about it," she said flatly, cutting him off. Absently, she reached up and plucked a Rubik's Cube from his crowded desktop, turned it over in her hand a few times as if puzzled by it, then absently began fiddling with it, her gaze returning to him. "And it doesn't matter."

"Amy, from what I hear, you've been suffering from nightmares," he began, but again she interrupted.

"They're nothing new. I can handle them. You couldn't help me, anyway."

"Why not?"

"What's happened has happened. You can't change that, neither can I." And no girl her age should have had an expression like that on her face. Serious and resigned, as if the very concept of innocence had been torn horribly away at a very young age, leaving behind someone who probably wouldn't have really understood the meaning of the word 'childhood'. "My dreams don't have any hidden meaning to decipher. They just are. All I can do is try and move on with my life, and let time do what it can." She put the Cube back on his desk, then folded her arms and leaned back in her chair, regarding him steadily.

He had to admit to being unsettled. Whatever she'd been through in the past, Amy clearly had a better handle on it then most - if not all - of his adult patients would have. And yet, unless he was very much mistaken, he could sense a lingering anger in her, directed at whomever it was that she'd escaped from. Something that said that no matter how much time went by, she would not forget what had happened.

Before he could figure out how to respond to that, his eyes rested on the Rubik's Cube. It took him a moment to register what he was seeing, then he picked it up and looked at it in surprise.

Aside from her initial examination of it, she hadn't looked at it once. Despite that, however, she'd managed to solve it in a matter of seconds.

"How did you do that?" he asked, voice somewhere between surprised and impressed.

She shrugged. "I figured the basic idea was to get all the squares on each side to match."

"Yes, but... I've never seen anyone solve this so quickly! I have patients who can't even get one side done."

Something that might have been concern flickered through her eyes, there and gone so quickly that he wasn't sure if he'd really seen it or not. "Just lucky, I guess."

This time he fixed her with the raised eyebrow. "I think there's more to it then that, isn't there?" When she didn't answer, he continued, "Amy, would you be willing to take a few tests?"

She tensed. "Why?"

"Well, if we get a better idea of your IQ and skill levels in reading, math, and other such subjects, we'll have a better idea of what grade to start you in at school." He paused. "Do you want to go to school?" One of the few things he was fairly certain of by then was that she didn't especially like the idea of being forced into things, and that being able to make her own choices - while evidently a new concept to her - was important.

She looked at him blankly. "School? Grade?"

It took him a few minutes to try and explain the American education system to her, and she'd seemed mildly confused by the differences between junior high school and senior high, as well as why some colleges were colleges, while others were universities. She'd also seemed wary when he'd told her about the teachers and their function, but relaxed when he showed her a picture of a typical classroom.

"What's holding them there?" she asked quizzically.

"What do you mean?" That was an odd choice of words.

"What happens if they want to leave? Or just... not show up at all?"

"They'd probably get a detention." At her blank look, he added, "The teacher would make them stay after school for a short time. Too many of those can lead to a suspension." Before she could ask, he said, "They'd be forced to stay at home, away from school."

Her eyes widened. "That's a punishment?"

He chuckled. "Some students might not think so, but homework doesn't stop piling up just because they're not there to get it, and if they miss any tests... Keep in mind, grade levels are important. If you don't pass, you'll end up having to go to summer school, or repeat the year. And then there's parental disapproval. Being grounded, loss of privelages, loss of allowence... Those can also be strong motivators for students."

"But if they didn't want to be there... They could go?"

"They wouldn't be physically restrained, if that's what you mean." That she even had to ask - and keep asking - a question like that spoke volumes about the kind of life she'd lead before she'd found the Bradshaws. Or they'd found her.

She didn't seem to know what to do with that idea, so he pressed on. "School is also an important social environment. It's a place where children can interact with interact with others of their age groups, and make friends."

"Peer grouping," she muttered under her breath, seeming to turn inward for a second as she remembered something. "That... sounds interesting. I think I'd like to stick with people my own age, though."

Which implied that she, at least, thought her IQ was likely high enough to shoot her several grades ahead of her peers.

Looking at the Rubik's Cube, he thought she might just be right. And considering how much she obviously had to learn aside from textbook knowledge, that might just be the best thing for her. "All right. We can hold off on the testing for now, but I would like you to consider taking them in the future, just so you and the Bradshaws will know how best to proceed with your education."

She smiled fleetingly. "I doubt that will be necessary, but I'll keep it in mind," she told him, as if she already knew what her IQ level was, and just didn't feel like sharing. Then, a bit more hesitantly, she asked, "So, does this mean you'll let me stay with them?"

"Ultimately, it's up to a judge, not me. But I will speak in favor of it, and if all goes well, I don't see why he'd say no."

She paused a moment as she assimilated that, then favored him with a small but genuinely honest smile.

"Thank you."

Amy Bradshaw sat on the back porch of her - their - new house, watching the sun rise.

Part of her wanted nothing more then to climb back into bed with Lucy, but she knew from experience that once the dreams had forced her awake like that, she was up for the day.

She had, at least, managed to avoid waking Lucy up as well. There was no reason for both of them to be sleep-deprived. Besides, she was trained to operate on much less sleep then Lucy was.

Her nightmares had been fewer and farther between of late, which she decided was a combination of Lucy's reassuring presence - even in her sleep, Amy felt safer in her arms - and the fact that The Centre was gone. That didn't completely stop her brain from serving up heaping helpings of nightmares, of course, but it was progress. A step in the right direction.

What left her puzzled, though, was the fact that last night's dreams hadn't been that bad. They hadn't even been all that upsetting, really. She'd remembered her first appointment with Dr. Gold, which she'd been trying to focus on as she watched the sun slowly creep up over the trees surrounding their property when it had become clear that the sunrise alone wasn't cutting it.

She'd also dreamed about Tomoko.

That in and of itself was somewhat unusual. Not that her old friend had never been featured in her mental home movies, but it had been a while. And it had been even longer since it had happened with such clarity.

They'd just talked. Well, she'd talked, mainly, Tomoko saying there really wasn't anything new going on with her because of 'well, you know'.

She hadn't known, not really, but she'd forgotten just how nice it was to talk to Tomoko about... well, anything, really. She'd been a bit hesitant to bring up Lucy, but Tomoko had been nothing but supportive and happy for her.

She'd woken up with a meloncholy feeling that she just couldn't shake. That and a feeling of pervasive dread that she didn't understand had finally driven her from Lucy's side before her tossing and turning woke her girlfriend up.

The end of the dream was a bit fuzzy, leading her to wonder if that wasn't the problem. Maybe part of her was worried that she'd missed something important. Which was foolish, really. If her subconscious wanted to conjure up dreams about one of her childhood friends, how could she miss something that was being said by her own brain?

Oh, she was going to give herself a headache at this rate.

Preoccupied as she was, she was still aware of the screen door opening behind her and Lucy coming out onto the porch behind her. "I didn't wake you up, did I?"

Lucy smiled as she planted a kiss on the blonde's head. "Nah, that was more me needing to use the bathroom." She came around the chair and dropped herself onto Amy's lap. "Mind if I join you?"

Amy beamed at her. "Of course not, you know that!"

Lucy placed another gentle kiss on her forehead. "You don't have to do that, you know. It's just us here."

Amy looked at her for a long moment, before something that might have been gratitude flashed through her eyes, and her wide smile melted away. She let out a breath, allowing herself to sink down into her chair a little more as her features settled into a more neutral expression. "Thank you," she murmured, and the smile she gave Lucy might have been much smaller, but it was also real.

Lucy didn't mind. She knew Amy tended to put on something of a front around other people, and she appreciated that Amy felt she could drop the mask around her. And if she sometimes needed to be reminded to do so... then so be it. "Wanna talk about it?"

With anyone else, Amy might have been able to pretend she didn't know what they were talking about, but that didn't work with Lucy anymore. "Nothing to really talk about," she said with a small shrug. "No nightmares, just... memories."

Memories that had left her feeling more sad then anything, if Lucy was any judge. As such, she had her suspicions what - or rather, who, given Amy's reluctance to talk about it - had been in them. She wouldn't press, though. She'd gotten over any lingering jealousy she might have had toward Tomoko's memory some time ago.

Amy had thrown on a soft chiffon bathrobe before coming outside - she'd had to, since neither of them typically ended up wearing any clothing to bed, and anything they might have worn always ended up being discarded by the other - and she smiled as Lucy's hands began slipping underneath it as if by sheer reflex. Lucy's own robe was a medium blue, and Amy had been forced to hide a snicker when Lucy had bought it, claiming it was meant to soften the transition from the blue and/or plaid environment of the academy.

Construction of their house had only been completed several days ago - it had taken longer then usual due to the somewhat... esoteric "extras" that Amy had insisted on; there were bunkers that didn't have as many defenses as their house - but she loved it already. It wasn't her dream home, mainly because she'd never let herself have such a dream, but it was as close to perfect as she could imagine. It was technically outside of Los Angeles proper, but not quite in the suburbs, either. Amy had found a wooded area outside the city, bought up a not inconsiderable amount of it, and drawn up plans for the construction people that Lucy knew. She'd also "accidentally" forgotten to tell her bosses exactly where her new house was, because she wanted her privacy, and she knew that Lucy felt the same.

That was why, even after they moved out of it, Lucy hadn't gotten rid of her still secret (formerly) Evil Lair. Just in case.

Not that either of them were at all paranoid or anything.

"So, what do you wanna do today?" Amy asked, feeling herself relax as Lucy's touch drifted across her stomach and sides, draining away any residual tension she might have had. The sun finally began clearing the horizon, bathing the area in a golden glow. Her breath caught as she stared up at Lucy, backlit in such a way as to make her look like the angel she most certainly was not. Last night had certainly proved that, Amy thought, a grin forming on her face despite herself.

"Not sure, yet." They'd been given a couple days off to settle into their new house (once they finally let on that it was finished), so barring an emergency they had the weekend to themselves. "I wouldn't mind checking on Scud, make sure he's being treated all right while I'm away."

Amy blinked. "Why would he not be? I thought you said things were going better, now." Despite all the help they'd given in taking down The Centre, and Amy's own endorsement of them, there had been a fair number of DEBS that had resented Lucy and Scud not only being pardoned, but also working alongside them, now. The higher-ups had done what they could to keep interaction between the pair and any disgruntled agents to a minimum, and no one dared say anything while Amy was anywhere nearby, but the first month or so had been rough.

"They are, they are," Lucy agreed. "But still... Old habits die hard, you know? Besides, I haven't seen him in a few days."

And she was used to seeing him every day. "Okay," Amy said easily, pulling Lucy down for a kiss... which went on for a good three minutes longer then she'd meant it to. "Um..." she said once Lucy pulled back, trying to reboot her brain. "He's, ah, at the academy today, right? We could say 'hi' to Mister P. while we're there."

"Works for me." Lucy grinned at Amy's momentary befuddlement. It was an amazing feeling, having power like that over such an incredible woman. And of everyone in the DEBS, outside of Amy's own squad, Phipps had treated her - and Scud - with the most respect. He was a good and decent man, as well as intelligent and caring, and she could see why Amy was so fond of him.

Her grin widened. "First things first, though," she all but purred as she began unbelting Amy's robe.

"What? You didn't get enough last night?" Amy asked, amused. Despite her question, though, she was making no move to stop her.

"Of you? That's something I'll never be able to do." Amy felt her face flush, but before long her blood was heading to other parts of her body.

This, she decided, had to be the best way to start the day ever.

**********************************************
Amy was a little surprised to see so many students wandering around the campus already, since classes didn't actually start until Monday. Sure, they might have moved into the dorms, but given that the academic buildings generally weren't open to the students - especially the new students - until the school year began...

Well, there was nothing that said they couldn't be on campus, she supposed. And some of the older students - mainly the seniors - may well have had business to attend to.

In fact, one such (obviously distracted) student almost walked right into them as she exited the building they were going into before she saw them, her face lighting up in one of her trademarked sunny smiles. "Oh, hey! What are you doing here?"

Amy had to smile back. It was almost impossible not to, with her. "Hey, Raquel. Just stopping by to check on a couple things."

The new squad leader of Sector 1 nodded. "Well, I won't keep you."

They could spare a few minutes, though, Amy decided. "How have you been, anyway?"

She hesitated. "We're good, for the most part," she said, either accidentally or deliberately misunderstanding the question. "Bethany's still a bit... Anyway, we're good."

Evidently, Bethany must have felt more strongly for her boyfriend then she'd let on. Momentarily, Amy debated on setting aside some time later on to talk to her, then rejected the idea. She had her own team to turn toif she needed it. "Good to hear. But how are you, personally?"

Raquel shifted uncomfortably. "I'm all right. I'm... better I'd been just... having a bad day."

Lucy frowned in confusion. "Huh?"

If anything, her presence just seemed to make Raquel's embarrassment grow. "I really do appreciate you finding it for me," she said to Amy, absently fingering the slim metal band around her wrist. "And... if I said or did anything in my sleep that might have... Well, I was asleep, so I didn't know you were you, and... Look, I'm just... sorry. And thank you, really." Unable to take any more being stared at, she all but fled down the walkway.

"What the hell was she talking about?" Lucy asked, baffled.

Amy felt a smile spreading across her face as something finally clicked. "I'll tell you later."

As it turned out, Scud wasn't the only one they found down in the tech center. "Hey, Broots," she called with a grin as they walked into the room. She was relieved to see that he'd finally begun to stop jumping everytime someone called his name. Being away from Miss Parker and the others at The Centre seemed to be doing him a world of good.

He blinked up at her, then smiled tentatively. "Hey, Amy. What are you doing here?"

She nodded over toward where Lucy and Scud were conversing quietly, then replied, "Slumming." As expected, this elicited mock-outraged objections from the other techs present, a few in the form of crumpled up pieces of paper tossed at her. She chuckled, then added, "Seriously, though, it's good to see you're doing so well here."

"Thank you. And I really do appreciate you getting me a job here-"

She held up a hand, cutting him off. "It wasn't a problem, really. Besides, I'd say you earned it." And even though it hadn't been a consideration when she'd gotten the job for him, she was glad that Scud would have someone else around who'd been recruited from the other side. "You just keep up the good work, and we'll call it even." She started to head over to where Lucy and Scud were, then paused and added, "Oh, and say hi to Debbie for me." She wasn't old enough to take the SATs yet, but from what Amy had seen of her in her visits, she suspected that Broots's daughter would not be offered a position at the academy, which was just fine with her father, Amy was certain. She did still stop by occasionally, though, which no one really objected to.

Really, with a name like that, how could the DEBS not like her?

She heard more about how Scud was doing from Janet then Scud himself, mainly because Janet was, well, Janet. The two of them were still taking things slowly, but from what Amy could tell, they had nothing to worry about. They were made for each other.

Unfortunately, she thought with a mental sigh as she recalled the encounter she'd had just outside the building, not everyone could see that sort of thing.

It was a little depressing to think that there was nothing she could do about that, either, but she knew that trying would only make things worse.

She tuned back into the conversation as Scud said, "I think Phipps is going to want to talk to you two later."

She frowned. "Mister P.? Why?" Not that she objected at all to the idea of talking to him - she had, after all, intended on doing just that later on anyway - but from the way Scud said it, it sounded like had something work-related to discuss with them. And not only were they technically still off-duty, but since Amy's team had graduated, they didn't get their assignments from Phipps anymore.

Scud shrugged. "If anybody knows, they haven't told me."

"Well, this is a school for spies," Amy told him with a slight smile. "Keeping secrets is kind of what we do. It's nothing personal against you, believe me."

"Oh, I know." And he did believe her, too. Not to say that he and Lucy weren't still held at arm's length, but he'd been there long enough to know that both staff and students tended to almost reflexively operate on a 'need to know' policy. Given that it was applied equally to everyone, he really couldn't get mad about it.

Though he suspected that they'd get mad if they discovered him or Lucy hiding things from them.

He knew Lucy still felt a bit uncomfortable with the idea of informing on her former partners in crime, but true to Amy's word, she'd been mostly asked to explain how such people thought, and occasionally been called upon to help deal with one of her former competitors. He had no idea how Amy was managing to keep the DEBS from asking for anything more then that, and she refused to say.

Of course, she was a spy, herself, so it wasn't really a surprise. But since neither he nor Lucy wanted to take a chance of disrupting things and causing that influence to be removed, they didn't press her on the subject. In this one case, they agreed that what they didn't know wouldn't hurt them.

"Huh. Well, I guess we'll find out soon enough," Amy said with a little shrug. "Meet us later for lunch? We'll probably have something to tell you about it by then. And if this is a team thing, we can probably convince Janet to come along."

"You don't need to bribe me with that," he said, smiling reflexively. "But you're on."

Amy chuckled again as she and Lucy headed back out

And that ominous feeling from earlier in the day, that there was something her subconscious was trying to figure out but couldn't, continued buzzing about the edges of her brain.

I had meant to work on one of my other stories next, really I had, but sometimes you've got to strike while the iron's hot, you know? ;) Oh, and since I know I didn't really describe Lucy and Amy's new house at all, I managed to track down some pictures. (And hopefully this will make up for the fact that you're not getting new pics of the cast, at least not yet. You already know what they look like, after all, both from The Pretender and the D.E.B.S. movie... not to mention Pantheon itself.)

Next time - We drop in on the new Sector One team, and learn that not everything is as sunny as it could be. Also, the DEBS puzzle over a string of mysterious thefts.

It's here!

2008-10-09T07:53:57Z

I hope you've all been looking forward to this as much as I have. ^_^

Title: Prometheus Unbound

Author: That'd be me. *grins* Andrew, Obsidian, call me what you want. But only if it's nice. ;)

Rating: R (C'mon, it's a sequel to Pantheon. What did you expect? ;) )

Comments: At long last, it's finally here. ^_^ Hopefully you'll like this one as much as you did Pantheon, if not more so. Now, there is going to be a third fandom included this time around, but, as before, I'm not telling you what it is, yet. You'll find out soon enough, don't worry.

Legal Disclaimer: I do not own 'D.E.B.S.', as I am not Angela Robinson. I also don't own 'The Pretender' (which was created by Steven Long Mitchell and Craig W. Van Sickle). Nor do I own .

Prologue

An icy wind blew over the barren, lifeless landscape, howling above the compound.

It had been built a long time ago, with money carefully siphoned off from certain businesses and corporations, and constructed in such a remote, uninviting area of the world that it had remained undiscovered, waiting until a time when it was needed.

Waiting for now.

Most levels appeared utilitarian, even spartan, given more to function then form. There were no windows, even on the one floor that was actually above ground level.

His people didn't need such luxuries. The few that actually stayed there had more important things to worry about. His own living quarters, of course, were fully furnished. Given that he didn't dare show his face where they might see him, they had to be.

Or he hadn't dared, at least.

A winding network of underground ventillation shafts stretching all over the surrounding countryside made certain that any intake or exhaust vents were far enough away that they would remain unnoticed and unconnected with the base. Among them was a small shaft with a number of very quiet but very powerful fans meant to pull the smoke away from the soft fire that flickered inside the stone fireplace he'd had installed in his office area. The fire itself barely illuminated the oak shelves and leather books that lines the room. An oversized antique desk occupied one side of the office, the high-backed chair behind it turned to one side, empty. A number of 3-D pipes worked their way across the screen saver on the 20-inch plasma screen of the computer on his desk, next to which was an assortment of papers and the odd pen or two.

The flat-screen television on the wall opposite the desk cast an odd white and blue illumination that clashed with the yellow light from the fire, but he barely noticed. Deep in an overstuffed armchair, he sat staring at the screen intently.

Fifteen minutes earlier, the phone had rung and a somewhat familiar woman's voice had told him, "Turn on the news. I think you'll be very interested in the lead story," before hanging up.

As it turned out, she'd been right.

"-tinuing to unfold in the wake of the collapse of the multinational corporation known as The Centre. As some of our earlier viewers know, The Centre was a private corporation located in Blue Cove, Delaware. Its apparent function was to accept "contracts" or "clients" from various sources, including the military, and provide them with information. This information was obtained from "residents" of the Centre, children and adults with a variety of unusual talents, kept in an isolated environment to make them more productive."

His eyebrows rose at the sight of The Centre, which looked distinctly worse for wear. Windows had been blown out on every level of the Tower, which - for whatever reason - now had a giant hole in it. When the screen switched to a view of the inside, they rose even higher. It was clear a major battle had been fought there.

Fought, and lost.

"According to sources involved in the investigation, The Centre did initially do the beneficial work its public facade claimed, which resulted in the creation of four democratic countries, the Korean peace accords and other such altruistic ends. Later, however, it became more self-serving and destructive.

"The Chairman of The Centre, James Parker, was arrested on a variety of charges, including kidnapping, blackmail, embezzlement, conspiracy, and murder, and is currently facing life in prison with no chance of parole."

He'd chuckled at that, the first sound he'd made since the story had begun. He hoped Parker could appreciate the irony of the situation. He was sure that Jarod and the others like him could.

The screenshot they used showed an older man then he remembered, but that was only to be expected, he supposed.

It had, after all, been some time.

"So far, the D.E.B.S. have declined to comment on their surprising role in what officials are calling the largest coordinated simultaneous assault on a criminal network in history. Reports indicate that they were able to direct local and federal police, government agents, and even military forces from every country in which a Centre satellite office was located. As most of our viewers know, the D.E.B.S. typically deal more with so-called "super-villains", such as Lucy Diamond."

They began showing what little pictures or clips they had relating to Diamond, and he had to admit that she was something of a striking, dynamic individual. It was a pity he wasn't likely to be able to convince her to come work for him, but he knew from experience that someone who was used to running their own criminal empire would never accept a subservient position to anyone else. The best he could have hoped for was a partnership, and he suspected their goals were far too different for that to work.

The reported confirmed that when she continued speaking, but not in the way he'd been expecting.

"In an ironic twist, Diamond herself was supposedly actually involved in taking down The Centre. Authorities are being extremely vague about the details, but one of the D.E.B.S.' top agents, Amy Bradshaw, has gone on record saying, quote, 'This mission really couldn't have succeeded without Lucy. It's because of that, as well as several other things I can't talk about, that she and her people were offered pardons within the United States, among other countries.'"

His eyes widened as they showed footage of a tall blonde bustling through a crowd of reporters without slowing down once. Between the glimpse of her face, her stature, and the effortless grace with which she moved, he would have recognized her anywhere.

Well, well, well. Little Sekhmet, all grown up.

He let the reporter's voice fade into the background, his thoughts taking priority to what she had to say. He already knew everything she was telling America - or the world, even - about The Centre, after all, and hardly cared about the oh-so-tragic story of Jarod and his family. Unlike Parker, he'd never thought that Jarod was the 'key to the Centre's continued success' He was important, to be certain, but not the only important one.

And as recent events proved, he wasn't nearly as dangerous.

The door to the study opened slowly and Ricky "Trick" Rogers hesitantly moved a few steps inside. Aside from having the unfortunate luck of being born to parents that decided to name him Richard Ramsey Rogers, he also had outstanding warrants out for him for several counts of manslaughter. He also had only just been placed on parole when he'd added another count to the list, and had to flee from the cops. However, he hadn't been able to seek protection from any of the organized crime syndicates because of his reputation, picked up after he'd quickly flipped on his last boss after he'd been arrested. He was viewed as untrustworthy, someone who'd turn on you in a heartbeat to save his own skin. Quite simply, nobody trusted him. And trust was important in that line of 'work'.

His current employer suffered from no such compunctions.

He'd made it quite clear what would happen if Rogers disobeyed, and after that demonstration...

Well, Rogers would never cross him. No matter what.

Even jail couldn't be as bad as... that.

Rogers was a short brown-haired man with pale, almost sickly looking skin. He had also used to have a number of facial piercings and chains hanging from his formerly loose clothing, but his current circumstances had made those... impractical, to say the least. He stood there for a moment, blinking rapidly as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. He had a manila folder with a short stack of papers inside clutched in one hand, and even though the evening was cold - even the best heaters in the world couldn't entirely banish the chill in some parts of the base - he was sweating. No one liked having to go talk to the big boss, but about something like this...

The folder in his hand shook slightly.

After a moment, he closed the door behind him and moved to a position three paces behind the armchair. There he stood, not daring to move.

His employer did not acknowledge him, seemingly focused entirely on the news. The reporter was wrapping up her story on The Centre, the anchors finally moving on to something else - though he knew this story would be getting much more attention for some time to come.

"...-ove, Delaware, this is Stacia Vela."

"Thank you, Stacia. Well, Kurt, I have to say that's one 'Mister Parker' that I'm glad doesn't have a Get Out of Jail Free card."

"I'll sa-"

The man in the chair clicked off the television, dropping the level of light in the room even lower. Then, without turning, said, "Yes, Richard?"

Trick didn't correct him. The boss could call him whatever he wanted, really. He supposed he should feel flattered that his boss had decided to use his first name at all. "We've received some additional information that she thought you'd want to see immediately, sir." He probably hadn't needed to stress the word as much as he did, but he also didn't want the boss thinking interrupting him was his idea.

He still didn't turn around. "You've looked through it?"

"She had it faxed to us, sir." Meaning there really hadn't been much choice.

He sighed and rose, heading for his desk. "Show me," he said flatly as he sat down, flicking on the desk light.

Wincing at the sudden illumination, Trick laid the folder on the desk. "It's the last of the technical specifications we require, as well as a list of where we can find everything we need. And there was... one other thing she thought you'd be interested in."

"Who else knows about this?" He didn't open the folder, yet.

"I was the only one there when the fax came in, and you'd know better then I would how many people actually have a clue as to what we're really doing." He swallowed hard. "You're the only one who knows everything." Though he himself was beginning to think he could make a few guesses...

"Well..." Without so much as blinking, he reached into a desk drawer, pulled out a gun, and shot Trick in the head. "...I am now."

Not bothering to spare the body any attention as it hit the floor - though he did make a mental note to have the maintenance people stop by and collect it later, while they cleaned the carpet - he put the gun away and opened the folder.

As promised, the papers inside told him exactly where to find what he needed to finish his current project, as well as one which speculated as to exactly why Sekhmet might have arranged for Diamond's pardon, which he took great interest in. That information would come in useful, he was certain.

He moved on to the next paper, then froze.

Then, slowly, began to laugh.

Oh, this was perfect. This was too perfect. He had to admit, she'd certainly been right. He was definitely interested in that particular piece of information.

All the pieces of the puzzle were finally falling into place. It would still take some time to arrange everything, especially if he didn't want certain government agents catching on before it was too late to stop him, but that was all right. He had plenty to do, and plenty of arrangements to make, to keep him busy.

And if The Centre hadn't been able to catch him, the United States government certainly wouldn't be able to. No matter whom they were currently employing.

He did hope Sekhmet and Jarod would appreciate the irony of the fact that their success in dismantling The Centre would lead to their ultimate destruction.

As he gazed down at the papers in front of him with malevolent amusement, he had to chuckle again.

"I've been away from my girls for far too long."

And so begins the long-awaited sequel to Pantheon! Hope everyone enjoys - and comments on! *lol* - this one as much, if not more so. ^_^

Next time - Three months later, Amy and Lucy are settling comfortably into their new house, and Lucy and Scud are still trying to adapt to their new jobs.

(Oh, yes, the coming attractions are back, too! ^_^)

I'm back!

2008-10-02T19:33:51Z

Okay, so technically I didn't actually GO anywhere. Feh. Details. ;)

I apologize for my lack of online presence, but I've been busy working on something. No, not the next chapter of one of my current stories (though that is next on my list of things to get done), but a trailer for my new upcoming story. (Yes, you read that right. Three at once. Here's hoping I can pull that off.) There was a teaser trailer for it (the first time I actually did something like that for a fic, I believe), but I didn't post it here because, well, quite frankly, it sucked. ;) This one, though...

PowerDirector likes me a LOT more then Windows Movie Maker. ^_^ Hope you like it. The idea for this story has been brewing for months (at least). You've wanted it, you've asked for it (and you know who you are *winks*), and now you're going to get it. See? Good things DO come to those who wait. ^_^

(Why is it hosted on MySpace, you ask? Well, because Universal's ~~a bitch~~ really mean, and had Youtube block my video in some countries (like America) because I used some content owned by them. It's not like I'm making a profit off of this, or ever claimed to film it myself. *eyeroll*)

Anyway, enjoy, and let me know what you think afterward. Not just about the video - though feedback on that would certainly be appreciated, as I put a lot of effort into making this - but what it's about, as well. ^_^

The Official Trailer

This isn't an update...

2008-09-12T06:41:49Z

Hopefully, I'll be updating one of my stories soon. As people who've been here a while know, though, I do occasionally post non-fic-related entries here. This is one of them.

And no, it isn't a 9/11 post. I've said all I really feel like saying about that elsewhere.

I've always heard you could buy anything off of the internet, but I didn't think it was literally true. Evidently I was wrong. Back in 2004, an 18-year-old British girl apparently tried to sell her virginity on eBay, before moving the auction to her own website when eBay pulled the plug. The price, as best I can tell, was £8,400.

She is being investigated for soliciting by Avon and Somerset police.

I heard about this on the radio today - which makes me wonder if there was some kind of recent development I just didn't see - and I just had to find out more.

And now, if I may address a question to any and all females reading this... What the fuck?

Cherry Blossom: Revisited Chapter 2 - (09/06/2008)

2008-09-06T19:25:46Z

Moving right along... ^_^

Title: Cherry Blossom: Revisited (chapter 2/?)

Author: That'd be me. *grins* Andrew, Obsidian, call me what you want. But only if it's nice. ;)

Rating: R. And not for the usual reason, either. ;)

Comments: I love it when my fics zoom right along. ^_^ Don't worry, the title will eventually make sense. (And I haven't actually forgotten about Parallax, I just want to focus on this one right now while it's flowing, you know?)

Legal Disclaimer: I do not own 'D.E.B.S.', Angela Robinson does. Though if I had my way, there would have been a sequel or two by now. ;)

The village was deserted.

What was even more annoying was the utter lack of anything resembling a clue as to what had happened. They'd all seen the aftermath of a supervillain raid before, whether for slaves to carry out manual labor, revenge, or simple maliciousness. None of them looked like this.

Amy didn't understand it. Unless someone had come back and cleaned some things up, while leaving enough of a mess to still know something had gone wrong - unlikely, but not entirely impossible, she supposed - the only conclusion she could draw was that the natives had left of their own accord. But that still left the question of where they'd gone, let alone why they'd departed their homes in the first place, leaving most of their belongings behind...

She shook her head. This wondering was getting her nowhere. If the village was secure, it was time for them to move on. She headed back to the center of town to rendezvous with the others.

"All right, people," Max began once they were all assembled. "None of us expected it to be so easy as to just walk in and immediately catch Black Dragon napping or something. This island's only so big, and he's got to be here somewhere. From what we know about the geography, if he's followed his usual pattern of underground bases, the best place for him to dig in would be around the bluffs along the north-eastern edge of the island." Which, given that they'd landed at the southern tip, meant they had some walking to do. "The sooner we find him, the sooner we can get the hell out of here."

Because while nobody wanted to admit it, the empty village was creeping them all out. Even Max.

"Let's move out."

There were several paths to choose from, but it was impossible to tell which had been used the most of late. So they picked the one that seemed to be heading the most northeast and started out.

The worst thing, Amy decided, was how utterly normal everything seemed. If she hadn't known better, she would have thought she was on an uninhabited but otherwise gorgeous tropical island. It wasn't like she wanted to be finding bloody and mangled corpses everywhere while the gray sky rumbled ominously overhead, but somehow the sunny, beautiful day was making it worse.

Bad things were not supposed to happen in places like this, and especially not on days like this.

They moved down the path, weapons out, eyes flicking to every single sound. It was nerve racking, frankly. Max, who was in the lead, had taken out one of the DEBS' newest toys, a PDA that also served as a motion detector. Unfortunately, the trees and vines of the jungle that surrounded them made that next to useless, similarly obscuring any readings the infrared sensors might have given her.

Still, though, it did at least increase their chances of seeing someone coming, at least a little.

And every little bit helped.

After about ten minutes of walking, Max ordered them to halt. She stared down at the ground, frowning, and the others followed suit to discover the path ahead of them was covered with footprints. Oddly, from the look of it, a large group of people had crossed the path, moving from one part of the jungle to another. The grasses and ferns on either side had been trampled, making it obvious both which direction they'd come from and where they'd gone.

And neither was along the path.

Not to mention... Unless Amy was very much mistaken - entirely possible, as she wasn't the best at reading tracks in the DEBS - one set of footprints had been left by someone moving a lot faster then the others Maybe by someone running for her life?

Di?

She exchanged a look with Max, who was clearly wondering the same thing. "Which way do we go?" Because while they needed to find Black Dragon, they also needed more information on what was going on, and they could hardly just ignore any civilians that might have escaped. Not to mention finding the woman who had drawn them to the island in the first place.

Max looked unhappy with what she was about to say. "I think we're going to have to split up. Bradshaw, Matthews, check out that direction, see where they came from," she said, gesturing off to the right. "Dom and I'll head that way, see where they went. Janet, Lewis, keep following the path. Stay in contact for as long as you're able. If you get in trouble, fire your weapon and the rest of us'll come running." Because with no other real noise except for insect life and the like, everyone should be able to hear shots from anywhere on the island.

No one especially liked the idea of splitting up any more then Max did, but they, like her, knew it was the only way. To Gordon, Max said quietly, "Keep an eye on Janet. If she starts having trouble breathing and can't get to her medication, her inhalers are in her pack. She'll probably be fine, and ninety-nine times out of a hundred she can take care of it herself, but..."

"I gotcha," he replied, just as quiet.

"I would send you off with Dom, but... Well, it's not that I don't trust you..."

He smiled faintly. "But you do trust them?" He nodded vaguely in Amy and Bobby's direction.

"Yes." Because she'd never once seen Amy allow her feelings for Bobby to get in the way of her work. She knew Amy liked him, but from what she could see, it was more that she was comfortable with him then anything else. Raising her voice, she didn't-quite-yell, "Move out!"

**********************************************
"You know, I am so over the whole 'tropical island' thing," Amy decided as she swatted at another mosquito. "There aren't this many bugs back in the city."

"No, but there's plenty of smog and pollution, instead, as you so frequently remind me," Bobby replied. Both of them were keeping an eye out for anything while following the surprisingly obvious trail.

That bothered her. Why hadn't anyone made any attempts to disguise their path through the jungle? Because they weren't expecting intruders, so they saw no reason to bother? That might make sense, if they hadn't been chasing an intruder when they'd left it. And judging by what they'd heard of the conversation, it hadn't seemed like Di had worked here. "Yeah, so maybe this place is better for Janet - which is a very good thing, don't get me wrong - but between the heat, the humidity, the bugs, the village... Well, I won't mind leaving."

"Definitely gotta give you that last one, babe," he replied. She just sighed quietly, not even bothering to tell him - again - not to call her that. He didn't mean anything bad by it, she knew that. It wasn't even offensive, really. She just... didn't care for it. But since she couldn't manage to give him a reason to stop calling her that... He didn't.

"If I wanted to spend time on a tropical island for fun, I'd take a vacation in Hawaii," she muttered, peering suspiciously at the ground. Were the tracks thinner here?

"That could be arranged," he informed her with a sly half-smile.

"Ask me about that again later," she said. There were less tracks here, she was sure of it now. The path they had been following was becoming less and less obvious, and it seemed to stop completely about twenty feet away from a fair-sized rocky hill. "Did we miss a turn, somewhere?" she wondered aloud, looking around.

"It didn't look like it..." He frowned. "Maybe they were coming from every direction, and just came together to follow her?"

That made sense. "Well, unless we want to follow every single set of tracks, it looks like we've hit a-"

She was interrupted by an echoing sound from nearby, which might have been a moan. Instantly alert, they both headed in the direction the sound had seemed to come from, weapons at the ready.

They came to a cave entrance, stopping just before the floor abruptly dropped away. Amy sighed. It was just as possible that the sound had been the wind blowing through the cave as it was that it had been made by a person, which meant that checking it out could potentially be a huge waste of time. Even so, they had no choice but to investigate. "Max, do you copy?" she said into her comm.

"Reading you three by three," came the static-laced reply. "What's up?"

"The trail kind of dissolved on us, indicating that the people who left it had been coming from all over, so that's a dead end. However, we also found a cave, and there may be someone inside, possibly injured. We're going to-" She broke off as she thought she felt an odd tremor in the ground under her feet, but if it was real, it didn't repeat itself. "-going to check it out," she continued. "There's a fairly steep drop right past the entrance, so someone could be hurt."

Then it happened again, and she was sure she felt it this time. Before either of them had a chance to react, the ground under their feet gave way, spilling them down into the darkness of the cave.

**********************************************
"Bradshaw! Damn it, Amy, answer me!"

Max fought down the useless urge to hit her communicator to get it to respond. It was working as well as it was going to with the jamming field still up. If it hadn't been a DEBS comm, there likely wouldn't have been any signal at all.

"What's going on?" Janet's voice broke in.

"Something happened to Amy," Max replied tersely. "She and Bobby were about to check out a cave when she screamed and... that was it." She'd known splitting up wasn't a good idea, but what else could they have done? And, she had to admit, if they'd all been together, whatever had happened to Amy could have happened to all of them, and then there'd be no one to come rescue them.

Still, though... She had a sneaking suspicion she was going to hear Amy's abruptly cut off scream in her nightmares for a while.

Before Janet could come up with a reply to that, or anyone could just forget what they were doing and run to Amy's aid, a static-y groan came from the comm, followed by Amy muttering, "Ow."

Max held her breath. "Amy? Are you all right?"

"Ow," Amy said again, sounding almost annoyed at having to repeat herself. Max exhaled, relieved.

"What happened?"

"I think we got a bit too close to the opening, and the edge crumbled away beneath us," Bobby answered. "And I'm fine, by the way. Thanks so much for asking."

Fighting down the urge to snap at him - for the moment, at least - she instead asked, "What about Amy?"

There was a pause, then Amy herself answered, sounding oddly embarrassed. "I, ah... kind of landed on top of him. I'm fine."

Oh. She supposed she could let his behavior slide, then, at least this one time. Having one's girlfriend - however unintentionally - use you to break her fall, then having all the concern be directed at her, could certainly justify a certain amount of irritation. "Do you two need us to come get you?"

There was a burst of static which might have concealed groaning and shuffling as they got to their feet, then Amy answered, "Well, since we're down here, we may as well check out the cave. But I think we'll need some rope or something to get back out."

"Copy that. Dom and I'll finish checking out this path, then we'll come get you. And let us know-"

"-if there are any other problems, we know," Amy finished for her, her tone indicating she was smiling. "Don't worry, we'll be careful. Amy out."

Max signed off as well, then turned to Dominique. "Let's get moving." Unlike what Amy had reported, their trail was still going strong. Which made sense, really, since whoever had left most of the tracks would have been following Di - if that was who they'd been chasing, of course. She was surprised to find that, barring the occasional swerve to avoid trees or fallen branches and the like, the tracks went in a mostly straight line. The lead runner had been making no effort at all to lose her pursuers.

She mulled that over as they walked, weapons out, constantly scanning for trouble. It was entirely possible that the guards had been using some kind of scanning technology that would have rendered such maneuvers futile. Or maybe they'd had tracking dogs. Or - and this was the one that concerned her most - whatever Black Dragon had done had freaked her out so badly that she hadn't been thinking of anything but getting away from it as quickly as possible.

The trail lead right to some kind of shack. Most of the tracks then lead off in another direction, but Max decided to check out the building first. Unlike everything else on the island, it wasn't made out of wood or clay, but metal. It had also been painted a dark green, as if to better blend in with the jungle. This was the first real confirmation they had as to Black Dragon's presence on the island.

She looked it over with the scanner. Luckily, it didn't seem meant to block such scans, as she could tell there were a number of electronic signatures inside.

And one heat source big enough to be a person.

"Gotcha," she said quietly. She turned to Dom and murmured, "What do you think? Should we knock?"

Dominique shrugged. "Eet does seem ze polite thing to do."

What the hell, why not? Max rapped on the door a few times, watching her scanner. The heat source inside jumped, as if startled, but otherwise didn't move, or make any sounds. "Hey, we know you're in there," she called, trying to sound as non-threatening as she could under the circumstances. "It's just us out here, you can come out."

And finally give us some answers, she added silently. She didn't want to have to break in. That would make it much harder to get some answers out of the woman.

**********************************************
Diane stared at the door, hope warring with uncertainty.

Part of her knew this had to be some kind of trick. It hadn't quite been the five hours Lucy had told her it would take them to get there, yet. But there was obviously someone out there, and judging by her voice she was an American someone. That ruled out anyone who was supposed to be on the island base. Maybe Lucy had sent someone ahead of her...?

That thought alone was enough to pull her over to the door. She didn't know if this was the right thing to do, but...

Oh, screw it. Grow a spine, Di! This could be your only chance!

She didn't for one second doubt that Lucy and Scud would be coming for her, but she really wanted to leave now, to hell with waiting another hour! "I'm coming out," she called shakily. The door was as easy to disengage from the inside as it was from outside, and she winced as she pulled it open, the sudden change in light level from the windowless shack making her wince and shut her eyes.

Nothing happened as she stood there, trying to stop her eyes from watering, bolstering her confidence that whoever she'd been talking to wasn't there to hurt her. After another twenty or so seconds, her eyes had adjusted, finally giving her a good look at her two rescuers.

She instantly zeroed in on the DEBS logos on the two women's shirts.

Aw, shit. How in the hell had the fucking DEBS gotten there? Did they know who she was, or who she worked for? They didn't exactly look like they wanted to hug her and be best friends, but they also weren't holding her at gunpoint and reading her her rights. "What are you guys doing here?"

The African-American one was peering at her intently, and she got the feeling this was the one she'd ultimately have to convince that she wasn't a threat. "We overheard part of your conversation... Di."

"Which part?" she reflexively asked before she could really stop and think about it. Well, it was obvious, wasn't it? They'd come there for Black Dragon. Ironically, turning him over to the DEBS (or whoever) once they'd confirmed his presence hadn't seemed to occur to Lucy even once. She hadn't the last time she'd dealt with him, either, during that whole confusing business with the moon. That had been before Diane had joined the group, so she was still a bit fuzzy on the details.

Still, even if they were Lucy's mortal enemies... She couldn't just let them basically commit suicide. "You should... We should leave, as soon as possible. If you know who's here... Just drop a nuke on the island, or something."

They were looking at her oddly, now, which she supposed was understandable, given how little sense she must have been making. "We don't just go throwing around nukes so casually," the agent she guessed must have been in charge told her. "Who are you, anyway?"

She hesitated for a moment, then inwardly shrugged. If telling them the truth was the only way to get them to trust her, so be it. "Diane Mellis. I work for... someone who wants to stop Black Dragon as much as you do... whoever you are."

The DEB raised an eyebrow. "Max Brewer."

It took her a moment to place the name. The squad leader of Sector One itself. Well, she supposed she shouldn't have been surprised that the DEBS would send their best for this.

Still, though... They had no idea what they were getting into. "Look," she began, but was cut off by a faint echoing sound that all three women instantly recognized.

Gunshots.

**********************************************
On the one hand, it was nice to finally get out of the sun.

The cave was dark and refreshingly cool, which was nice. It was also free of bugs, which was even better. On the other hand, though... Well, it was dark. If the DEBS didn't make sure their agents were as prepared for anything as they could be, and Bobby's father's latest gift hadn't been an almost painfully bright LED flashlight taken from some drug lord, they would have been stumbling around in the dark, literally.

Then there was the smell.

It was faint, at first, but slowly grew stronger as they moved deeper into the cave. It was distinctly unpleasant, and was vaguely familiar to anyone who'd driven out on more rural roads for a while. There wasn't much in the way of roadkill in the city, after all - except for the occasional pedestrian. "Great," Amy muttered as they cautiously moved forward. "Knowing our luck, we'll end up having been suckered down here by some scavenger eating whatever's making that God-awful smell."

The cave itself was more like a tunnel - probably an old lava tube leftover from when the island had been formed, before the volcano had gone extinct - and a fairly twisting one at that. Had there been any offshoots, they could have easily gotten lost down there. It was also wide enough that all four DEBS could have fit down there side by side, if only just barely.

"You know what they say," Bobby reminded her. "It's a dirty job, but somebody's got to do it."

"I know, I know." And if it weren't for that smell - drying rot, like thickly soured milk and bile - she might not even mind so much. But as it was...

Fummp.

Both of their guns instantly came up at the soft, shuffling sound, like a padded fist sliding across a wall. That, Amy decided, was not an animal. There was someone down there.

The sounds of gentle movement stopped as they drew closer. Weapons at the ready, they spun around a corner...

... and couldn't help but recoil as the stench suddenly hit them like a physical force. There was someone there, all right, a dark skinned man with thick broad shoulders standing not even twenty feet away. Amy's relief at finally finding a survivor temporarily overcame her revulsion at the smell, and she stepped into the chamber. He could tell them what had happened, she was sure of it. And if they could rescue at least one person, maybe this wouldn't feel like such a useless waste of time.

He was facing away from her, half-hidden in shadow. He turned around slowly, the careful shuffling of someone drunk or injured, and the greeting Amy had been about to give him (not that she was confident he would have understood English) was trapped in her throat as she gagged, realizing that the smell was coming from him, in thick, noxious waves. He was clothed in tattered scraps which were stained with... Well, she didn't want to guess with what. His hair was scraggly and sparse, but she couldn't tell if that was natural or not.

It'd be the only thing about him that is. Jesus, what IS that smell? Is he sick, dying...?

She really had no idea, but it ultimately didn't matter. Her instincts were screaming at her that something was horrifically wrong here, and a quick look at Bobby showed that he agreed. Taking a step to the side, so that he would also have a clear field of fire, she aimed her Beretta at the man's torso. "Hold it! Don't move!" Even if he didn't speak English, he should have gotten the message.

Except that... he didn't. The man completed his turn and started toward Amy, shambling into the illumination from their flashlights. His - its? - face was ashy pale, except for the blood smeared around its rotting lips. Flaps of dried skin hung from sunken cheeks, and the dark eyes locked on her glittered with hunger as it reached out with oddly skeletal hands...

Her brain had momentarily locked up, unable to accept the input her eyes were giving it, but that motion broke her paralysis, and she fired three shots into the... whatever's... chest in a fine spray of crimson. With a gurgling moan, it crumpled to the floor, motionless.

Amy staggered back, her thoughts racing in time with her hammering heart. What the fuck was that?! It couldn't, simply could not, have been what it had looked like. This wasn't some low-budget horror movie, this was real life!

Although, if it was some kind of disease, that just mimicked the symptoms...

She had to tell the others. She'd turned back toward Bobby, and had taken two steps in his direction before she heard a wet movement coming from behind her. No. No way. She spun, eyes wide as the twitching thing clawed at the stone floor, pulling itself after her in an eager, single-minded silence. It was actually drooling, sticky pink rivulets actually pooling on the stone floor.

There was an almost deafening bang from behind her, and the thing's skull seemed to disintegrate. Bobby, she realized as she waited for her ears to stop ringing. This time it stayed down, unquestionably dead.

It was not... It could not have been a zombie. Zombies weren't real. Not to mention the fact that dead people didn't bleed.

On the other hand, living people didn't usually put up with the flesh rotting off of their bodies like that, and would have stayed down - hell, would have died - from her initial volley.

She shook her head, unable to understand. "Jesus, Bobby," she breathed. "What the hell did we just kill?"

Are we having fun, yet? ^_^

Cherry Blossom: Revisited Chapter 1 - (09/04/2008)

2008-09-04T06:54:55Z

I think this would have actually been out sooner, if I hadn't kept being interrupted over the past few days whenever I was trying to write. ;)

Title: Cherry Blossom: Revisited (chapter 1/?)

Author: That'd be me. *grins* Andrew, Obsidian, call me what you want. But only if it's nice. ;)

Rating: R. And not for the usual reason, either. ;)

Comments: Huzzah! *gestures with dramatic flourish* I now present to you the first chapter. (It's still an AU.) Enjoy!

Legal Disclaimer: I do not own 'D.E.B.S.', Angela Robinson does. Though if I had my way, there would have been a sequel or two by now. ;)

The heavy droning of the Boeing CH-47 Chinook's engines pervaded her thoughts, combining with the mild vibration to sink into her bones. It could have been a lot worse, though, she knew. She'd been on a few choppers in the past that had been so loud that she hadn't even been able to hear herself think, let alone anything anyone might say to her.

She had to admit, the Army took good care of their birds.

Amy Bradshaw was not ordinarily one given over to introspection, but there was little else to do on the flight to the island. Their briefing in Los Angeles had been thorough - or at least as thorough as it could have been, given how little they knew about what they were flying into - and the recap after their flight had landed at Bucholz Army Airfield, located on the cluster of islands that made up Kwajalein Atoll in the Marshall Islands and the closest airfield to their target destination had made sure they had everything in hand.

Their target was the international terrorist (Supervillain Class) known as Black Dragon. Supposedly Asian - he was almost as hard to get a look at as the nearly mythical Lucy Diamond - his true identity was otherwise unknown, but he'd first exploded onto the scene in Europe with a series of daring - and outrageous - crimes. Before long, he'd escalated to world domination schemes, though none of them were terribly successful, even without intervention from the DEBS or other such groups. Then, in 2001, he'd moved his operations to Japan. In August of that year, he'd blacked out all of Tokyo for three straight days, and it took weeks before anyone figured out how he'd done it. In 2002, a concentrated effort by Japanese law enforcement personnel forced him to flee the country.

Two months later, a series of bombings in Yokohama killed dozens of people, wounding hundreds more. In a deliberately taunting message, Black Dragon informed the Japanese Government that this was their punishment for defying his will. The international community instantly went into an uproar, and he was forced to lay low for a time.

Over the next two years, he attempted many more world domination schemes, including a rather baffling attempt to use nuclear weapons to knock the moon out of orbit. No one could figure out how this would have benefited him in any way, or indeed how he expected to pull it off at all, as he would have needed hundreds, possibly thousands more nuclear weapons then he'd had access to in order to even have a prayer of affecting any kind of change in its orbital path. If he could have gotten his hands on that many bombs, everyone agreed, he likely would have used them - or at least threatened to use them - in a much more direct fashion. Many in the upper levels of governments around the world concluded that it must have been a ruse to direct attention away from another operation he hadn't wanted them to know about.

Another mystery was just who had thwarted his lunar plan, and possibly his true objective as well.

Then, in the beginning of 2005, he'd simply disappeared. Not a single sign of his presence had been seen anywhere. She supposed they were about to find out what he'd been up to in the months since then.

Somehow, the thought was not a comforting one.

"Penny for your thoughts," a voice said quietly, and she looked up from the spot in the seat in front of her that her eyes had been attempting to burn a hole through to see her boyfriend smiling at her. The DEBS didn't often go on joint missions with Homeland Security, so she was always glad when a mission came up that required interdepartmental cooperation, so that she could spend more time with him. Bobby Matthews might not have been the sharpest tack in the box, but he was a good man and a very good agent, and she liked him a lot.

"No sale, you cheapskate," she replied playfully. "I'll have you know my thoughts are worth way more then that."

"Sure, but I don't usually take credit cards or my checkbook with me on assignments, and I never carry that much cash on me at a time," he countered, and she had to laugh.

"I suppose that is true. But it's not like you can't guess what I'm thinking, is it?"

"Probably." She might stare off into space while she reviewed her missions, but he tended to clean, load, or reload his guns. She often teased him about picking up bad habits from Max. "That woman did sound rather panicked, didn't she?"

"Yeah." That was one aspect of the briefing she didn't really like dwelling on. They'd missed the part of the conversation before Black Dragon had been mentioned, so they had no idea who the two women were, but somehow the woman called 'Di' hadn't seemed like the type normally given to panic easily, and if Amy stopped to think about it too much, she'd end up hearing 'Di' desperately plead for rescue again and again, as if her brain were caught in a loop.

She shook her head. Time for a subject change, she decided. "Tell me that's not the only gun you brought," she said, indicating the Desert Eagle .50 AE Magnum laying in his lap while he meticulously reloaded bullets into a clip.

"What's wrong with it?" he demanded, though faint amusement on his face indicated that he wasn't really upset. As frequently as they had this conversation, he really couldn't be, by now. "It's a lot more powerful then your Beretta M92FS, and you know as well as I do that when it comes to dealing with some of the things these wackos come up with, that can make a difference."

"And that's true," Amy allowed, taking comfort in the familiarity of the exchange. "But it only holds six rounds per clip, while mine holds fifteen. Sixteen, if I keep one in the chamber."

"Well, I'm sure that if I really needed another gun, there'd be a sizable stash of extra weapons and ammo somewhere on this chopper." He grinned. "After all, Max is the one who made the arrangements, isn't she?" She laughed again. "And come to think of it, why aren't you giving her grief about her Eagle?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Are you kidding? I oughta tell her you actually compared your gun to hers." Just because both had 'Eagle' in the name, that didn't mean they were the same thing. As far as Max was concerned, Amy knew, her STI Eagle 6.0 would blow his gun out of the water, any day of the week. "And hers carries fifteen rounds, too." Fifteen rounds of 9 mm Parabellum Bullets, specifically. And Max was always very specific about her guns. At least Janet and Dominique carried Berettas like hers, someone finally having managed to convince Dom that an Uzi was not a practical weapon for day to day use.

She suspected Dom might have brought her old Uzi anyway, though, just in case.

Given the huge unknown they were flying into... Amy wouldn't have blamed her.

"Okay, okay," Bobby said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "I swear, you're almost as bad as Gordon," he added, referring to his partner, Gordon Lewis, who was seated over next to Max, both talking about something likely mission-related in low tones. "If I have to hear one more speech about that Magnum of his..."

She shook her head, amused. What was it with guys and their guns, anyway? Bobby and his Desert Eagle, Gordon and his 500 S&W Magnum... "Well, if he has to listen to stories about your dad, the wonder agent, you have to listen to him talking about his gun," she said, then quickly pressed on before he could get upset - she knew he was proud of his father, but sometimes she wished she had something to threaten him with herself to get him to tone it down a bit. What was she supposed to say, 'Stop talking about your father so much, or you don't get any for a while'? With their conflicting schedules, he barely got any now. "Don't you two have government issue weapons, too? Shouldn't you have them?"

"Backup weapons," he said by way of explanation, and she felt a little reassured, even though she knew both men well enough by now to guess that neither would have brought any spare clips for their backup weapons, unlike their primaries. Well, as long as they used 9 mm rounds, the DEBS would have them covered.

Hopefully, though, they wouldn't need that much firepower to handle whatever was waiting for them.

**********************************************
Benelli M3S shotgun... check.

12 gauge shot shells... check.

Five extra clips of 9 mm ammo... check.

Two anti-personnel fragmentation grenades... check.

One anti-personnel concussion grenade... check.

Shoulder harness for the shotgun... check.

She'd checked all of their gear out before they'd taken off, of course. But Max Brewer didn't sit around and worry. She simply wasn't any good at it. Sitting idle was an anathema to her. Even on stake outs, she usually had something to do. It wasn't that she couldn't be patient, if she had to, she just... preferred to have something to do.

Her team didn't actually know about the grenades she carried. She didn't always bring any with her on missions, but this time... Well, given what they knew about their target, it had seemed like a good idea. Personally, she thought they might even be a bit lacking in firepower for their current assignment, but she knew the DEBS and Homeland Security likely considered them the advance scouting party. After all, six people to take on a crazed supervillain in his own island stronghold? That was the sort of thing that they usually sent in entire platoons for. That, and artillery strikes. But since they knew nothing about the lay of the land, and had no idea if a missile might accidentally hit a nuclear reactor or something... Well, they needed additional intelligence.

Which is where we come in.

If pressed, she would admit to being a little proud that their superiors trusted them enough to handle the task. (She would also probbaly have to smack Janet upside the head when she would inevitably then counter that they were just being used as minesweepers, purely cannon fodder.)

It would have been better if they'd been able to do more then get a distant, unfocused picture of the island. Unfortunately, some kind of jamming field around the island kept their satellites from getting a good look at it. It would also mean that once they landed, they'd be on their own until they could find some way of shutting the field off.

That didn't usually bother her, but this time...

"What do you know about our destination?" she asked Gordon quietly. She knew he and Bobby had likely gotten the same briefing that the DEBS had, but it was always a good idea to make sure that they were on the same page.

Just as quietly, he replied, "Well, I can't really pronounce the name of it, for one." He gave her a little shrug. "Kapingamarangi isn't really the easiest language to wrap one's head around. Hell, I have trouble just saying that. I think the island's name translates to something along the lines of 'Two Lakes' or some such thing. Population as of the 2000 census was five hundred and thirty-six... though that's likely taken a sharp decrease in recent months." He and Max shared a pained look. Supervillains who set up shop on remote tropical islands like this one tended to be hard on the native population. "They have access to modern technology and conveniences, but usually decline to accept any, preferring to live off the land. Seven miles long, three wide. Two fairly large landlocked bodies of freshwater, as the name suggests. No one ever really paid all that much attention to it... which was evidently a mistake on our part. Nothing we can do about that, now, though."

Which was annoyingly true, but that didn't mean she had to like it. "Don't suppose anybody in your agency managed to figure out what Black Dragon might want there?"

"Unfortunately, nobody had a clue. I think they were almost afraid to guess. Hell, they couldn't even figure out who the women in the communication we intercepted were."

"As much static as there was, that's no real surprise." Which was her way of saying that the DEBS hadn't identified them, either. "Hopefully, 'Di' will still be there. If we can find her, maybe she can fill us in. Otherwise, we'll have to beat it out of Black Dragon." Although, if they had to literally do that...

Well, somehow she didn't think anyone would mind.

**********************************************
Dominique was aware of the others talking quietly, but made no effort to find out what they might have been saying. She continued staring out the window, watching the ocean blur by.

It wasn't that she wasn't interested in knowing what they were talking about - or, rather, not just that, since she didn't especially care - but... Being so aloof and disaffected by everything wasn't quite as easy as she made it look, and did have an image to uphold.

Speaking of which...

She fished a pack of cigarettes out of her pocket, and pulled one out. She'd just gotten it settled between her lips, and was in the process of flicking on her lighter when Janet's unhappy voice broke in. "Dom..."

She turned her head to see Janet looking back at her, a pained expression on her face. "I know it's been a while, but could you please at least wait until we get to the island? You know how much worse smoke is for me in enclosed spaces like this."

The Chinook wasn't exactly the most enclosed space they'd ever been in - and Dominique had wondered why they were taking such a large helicopter at first, until someone had mentioned the possibility that the natives might need transportation to somewhere with a hospital, or simple evacuation in case their home had been so screwed up that it was uninhabitable - but still... She really hadn't been thinking. "Je suis vraiment désolé," she said, putting the cigarette back in the box.

Janet looked somehow both grateful and guilty at the same time. "Really, I am sorry. I wouldn't have said anything, but-"

"It eez not a problem," Dominique assured her. Had Janet not wanted her to smoke just because she didn't like the smell of it, or had started freaking out about health risks of secondhand - or firsthand - smoke, she probably would have lit up anyway, just to spite her. But they both knew from past experience how much smoke could sometimes aggravate Janet's asthma, and she couldn't exactly get mad at her for having an incurable (so far) medical condition.

The mission was likely going to be hard enough without starting it off by giving Janet an asthma attack. Which reminded her... "You do 'ave your inhalers, oui?"

Janet smiled. Dominique knew that Janet was aware that she didn't really like her - or much of anyone, truthfully - so she always appreciated any concern. "Of course. I never leave the house without at least one. This isn't a long-term mission, though, so I left that one at home. Several spare canisters for both, too."

Dominique nodded. That was standard practice for them, especially on missions that tended to involve heavy exertion and/or lots of emotional stress. And the rest of the team often tended to have an extra canister or two on each of them as well. After that one time in Budapest, when Janet had lost her medication after barely escaping that lunatic with the snakes... Well, thankfully, Max had managed to get her to a hospital in time, but they'd learned their lesson.

Luckily, Janet didn't seem to want to talk beyond that. She went back to doing... well, whatever it was she'd been doing before, and Dominique resumed staring out the window. If she knew her team, they were likely dwelling on the mission they were about to undertake. That wasn't really her style, though. They would get there when they got there, they would either succeed or fail, which meant that they would either live or die, and nothing they did or said now would change that.

She itched for a cigarette, but restrained herself. She could wait a little while longer. And she had to admit, if nothing else, she was somewhat looking forward to being on a tropical island. It would make for a refreshing change of pace from all the urban villain lairs they'd been to lately.

Who knew? Maybe after they wrapped things up, they could stick around for a while, hit the beach. Maybe there would even be one or two attractive natives with whom she could... spend some time.

The idea had possibilities.

She would admit, though, that situations like that did make her miss the old academy uniforms. She'd enjoyed wearing them, though even she knew they made it hard for anyone on either side of the law to really take them seriously. Dark blue was at least more dignified, and having actual pockets was a welcome change. True, they usually needed fanny packs to carry all their extra equipment, like spare clips or Janet's medication, but they were the same color, so they blended right in. Long pants might not be the most comfortable item of clothing to wear in a tropical climate (though the t-shirts were all right, even if they weren't what they usually had to wear - the higher-ups had had to make one or two concessions to the fact that they were going to a tropical climate, after all), but the fabric was very lightweight, and designed not to cause overheating. Naturally, their uniforms for colder climates were a bit heavier.

And if she did get too hot in her clothes... Well, she could always take them off.

She smiled to herself.

**********************************************
The rest of the flight didn't last that long, though most of the combined team couldn't help but feel that it had taken years. Finally, though, the helicopter set down in a clearing about a mile from the main village.

They left the pilot with the Chinook to keep guard, and let them know if any messages came in. The jamming field around the island seemed to be fluctuating, as if there was something wrong with its power source, and the helicopter's transmitter was the only one powerful enough to punch through if it got low enough. Short-range communication became garbled beyond belief once it was they were at about the halfway point, but since the pilot had orders to only try and contact them if he heard something, or if there was a problem, even the attempt would alert them so that they could start heading back.

The wind, light as it was, was blowing out to sea, which was off to the side. As a result, Dominique was free to finally have her cigarette without any complaints. Max was always a little bit surprised when Dom and Janet were able to work things out so smoothly without any intervention, but was hardly about to object.

The path to the village looked as if it had been smoothed out a while back, lending credence - if any had been needed - to the idea that Black Dragon had taken over the island. That it hadn't been paved, however, and showed some signs of deteriorating since then, were not good signs. She wasn't quite sure what that did mean, however. There were a few twists and turns, and enough shade to make the long trek comfortable enough, but otherwise there was nothing out of the ordinary.

They weren't quite sure what to expect when they got to the village, so before it came into sight, they ducked into the jungle that seemed intent on pressing into it, making the last of their journey as stealthily as possible.

They needn't have bothered. Not only were there no traps set up, there was no one in sight.

"Am I the only one who finds this odd?" Gordon asked as they crept closer to the village proper. Unlike what was usually shown on various TV shows, there were more then just a few ramshackle wooden buildings present. Construction had obviously been carefully planned out and executed, and the exotic style of the architecture was definitely appealing. Privately, Max thought it could more accurately be called a small town then a village.

"There are several odd things here," she replied. "Which one do you mean?"

"I mean that... Well, our helicopter isn't exactly quiet. Even from this far away, they must have heard us coming. And this isn't some primitive tribe that would run away at the first sign of intruders. But no one came to see us, not even any curious children. And Black Dragon hasn't sent out any welcoming parties, either. There are supposed to be hundreds of people on this island, right? So where are they?"

Everyone stopped just as they reached the center of town. Whether or not they'd wanted to think about it, they knew he was right. "And even if he was using the native population as slave labor, he'd keep them in their village, wouldn't he?" Janet asked slowly as she looked around. "I mean, housing that many people in your secret base doesn't sound especially practical to me, especially when there's so little space to begin with. Otherwise, why leave the village standing at all?"

Max had no idea, but she did know that just standing around like this wasn't going to do anything to help them figure it out. "Spread out," she ordered. "Standard search formation. Keep in contact as best you're able, and report immediately if you find anything, no matter how small it is, got it?" Nods all around. "Good. Move out."

The first building she looked in seemed to be some kind of... Well, general store, for lack of a better name. Everything was covered with dust, but since these people did prefer a more simple life, that might not have been out of the ordinary, so she didn't report it. Nothing was otherwise out of place, and she couldn't help but get the idea that the natives had built the place more from having to deal with the occasional tourist - government or private citizen - then any actual necessity for it. "Nothing here," she said into her comm. The others were reporting similar lack of results as she moved on to the next building.

The only thing of note was that in one or two of the structures, there were a few items out of place, or dropped (intact or broken) on the floor. But no sign of whoever had done the dropping, or why no one had picked anything up.

She found much the same in the next building she went into, which proved to be someone's home. It was... well, quaint, really. She was a city girl, herself, but she could easily see coming to someplace like this for a vacation. Comfortable looking beds, expertly carved chairs and tables, vibrant colors everywhere, even on the clay bowls...

And a bloody handprint on the wall.

She almost walked right by it, lulled into near-complacency by the nothing they'd found thus far. Stopping, she took a step closer and peered at it closely.

It wasn't recent. Not only had it fully dried, but it was starting to slowly flake off the wooden wall. She was hardly an expert, but she suspected it would have had to be several days old, at least. So while it was entirely possible that whatever had caused it wasn't a threat anymore...

Well, she was glad standard procedure meant she already had her gun out, all the same. "Found a handprint," she reported. "Made in blood. Not recent, and there's no sign of whoever left it."

"This place looks like a war zone," Amy replied, her voice only thinly laced with static. "Broken dishes, broken chairs... and a machete." They could hear a plastic rustling in the background, indicating that she was bagging it for evidence. "No people, though. Or animals. Considering the door was open when I got here, you'd think some critters would have been checking to see if there was any food, but there's no sign of that happening at all, either."

And so it went for the better part of an hour. They systematically checked building after building, but while there were a number of indications of past violence, there were no bodies, or even any other signs that blood had been spilled.

Aside from the six of them, there was no one else - living or dead - in the entire village.

See? When I say 'AU', I mean it. :lol For example, there's the obvious: Bobby. His character takes a beating in so many fics (where he's either a colossal jerk, rock stupid, a rapist, a murderer, crazy... Well, I could go on), that for once I decided to take pity on the poor guy and make him, well, normal. Hope that's okay with everybody. ;)

And if you're waiting for me to in any way spoil what's going to happen in the next chapter, you're gonna be in for a long wait. Like, until the next chapter is posted long. ;)

Got a new story for ya!

2008-08-31T18:39:14Z

I hope there will be no objections if this one isn't the huge pile of fluff that my last story was. ^_^

Title: Cherry Blossom: Revisited

Author: That'd be me. *grins* Andrew, Obsidian, call me what you want. But only if it's nice. ;)

Rating: R. And not for the usual reason, either. ;)

Comments: Well, this will be a bit different then my other DEBS stories - and not just because Amy and Lucy haven't met, yet - but hopefully you'll still like it. Just... don't expect pure fluff, this time around, okay? ;)

Legal Disclaimer: I do not own 'D.E.B.S.', Angela Robinson does. Though if I had my way, there would have been a sequel or two by now. ;)

Prologue

Go faster.

She was already running through the thick jungle as quickly as she dared, yet she couldn't help but fear it wasn't fast enough. She vaulted over a fallen branch, winced as her leg came down in a puddle, sending her briefly off-balance, but she recovered immediately.

There was no sign of her pursuers, but that meant nothing. There was nowhere on the damned island she could go to be free of them.

She would have laughed bitterly, had she been able to stop and take a breath. That was certainly an appropriate term. Dante might have been hard pressed to come up with a more accurate idea of hell.

She ducked under a low branch, only scarcely noticing the pain when a few strands of hair were caught and ripped from her head. She was beyond such things as caring for appearances or minor discomforts now. Her khaki pants were torn, her legs bruised and scraped in several places, her jacket had been lost somewhere behind her - not that she really cared, as hot as it was, but she might have regretted the loss of her hat, had she been thinking about it just then - and her white tank-top was stained with sweat, grime, and blood. She was splattered with mud, as well, but only one thought echoed through her brain again and again.

Go faster. Must go faster.

God, she had to be getting close to the transmission station by now, wasn't she? She couldn't keep running like this forever, and the idea of them catching up to her while she lay on the ground, gasping for breath...

She shuddered and somehow managed to run faster.

Wait... There it was! She was half-afraid it was some kind of mirage, summoned up by thick, sweltering air of the small tropical island - though it somehow didn't seem that small when one was running for one's life across it - but no, the fortified shack rising up out of the dirt ahead was blessedly real. She staggered to a stop in front of it, frantically trying to get oxygen to her cells while she fumbled for the access card that she'd stolen back at the main compound.

Have to get in... Have to call her... God, please let this work! She finally managed to free it from her pocket, nearly dropping it in her haste. She swiped it through the reader next to the door, and received a loud, obnoxious buzz in response. She felt a wave of fresh horror, but forced herself to calm down and think.

Card facing the right way? Well, it had to be, or there would have been no noise at all. Dirt on the magnetic strip? A little, actually, which she managed to find a relatively unblemished portion of her shirt to wipe away. Had she gone too fast and/or unsteadily? Well, yes, she had to admit she probably had. As slowly and calmly as she could manage, she tried it again.

buzz-click

Letting out a noise that was half laugh and half sob, she yanked the door open, throwing herself inside and pulling it closed behind her. The lock re-engaged, and she sagged against the door in relief.

She wasn't safe. Not yet. Not as long as she was still on the island. But she could rest for a few minutes, catch her breath.

And she could call for help.

Auxiliary Transmission Station #2 mainly served as a relay for communications to and from the main compound. Should there be a glitch in the compound's systems, it was also capable of acting as an independent transmission unit. It wasn't especially big, and obviously hadn't been cleaned in a while, but as long as everything worked, she couldn't have cared less. She staggered over to the transmission console, nearly moaning in relief as she was finally able to sit down. A quick check showed that yes, it was completely operational. It indicated that there was a jamming field in place around the island - the bastard was thorough, she'd give him that - but the station's equipment should be able to punch through it, at least for a while. She took one look at the small sign on the console that said 'For Emergency Use Only' and snorted, the sound echoing in the otherwise empty shack.

If this wasn't an emergency, she didn't know what was.

Please answer, she thought as she began placing her call. Please be there. Pick up, pick up, pick up... Of course they'd be there, she told herself as she waited not-quite-patiently for a response. They were the ones who'd sent her there. Just had to see what the competition was up to, didn't you? You damn well better appreciate this, Lucy!

Why had she volunteered for this job, anyway? She could have been at home, safe, relaxing - maybe with Scud - while they waited for an update from whatever luckless slob Lucy might have otherwise picked for the mission. But nooooooooooooooo! I just had to be helpful. She really didn't know what she'd been-

"Hello?"

She jumped in her chair at the sudden burst of sound from the radio, then nearly broke the transmit button as she slapped at it. "Lucy?"

"Hey, Diane. We were expecting to hear from you hours ago. Is everything all right? I don't think I need to tell you how worried a certain someone has been."

God, she wished there were visual, so she could see Lucy's face. However, even her voice - partially obscured by static as it might have been - was reassuring to her. "No, everything is really not all right," she replied honestly, clinging to the soothing sound of Lucy's voice and the fact that a rescue would soon be under way to avoid slipping into hysteria. "We were right, it is Black Dragon, but what he's done... Jesus, none of us ever imagined..." Despite everything, she had to choke down a sob.

"What did he do? What's going on over there?" Lucy's voice had sharpened in concern, and she felt a wave of affection for the other girl.

Unfortunately, a blinking light on her console showed her that she had other problems to worry about. "I don't have time to talk. The jamming field seems to be fluctuating in strength, and right now it's on an upward curve. I'm not going to be able to keep this channel open for much longer, and I have no idea how long it will be before another window opens. Just get me out of here!"

"We're on our way," Lucy assured her. "You just hang in there. Stay put if you can, but try and be at the rendezvous point in five hours."

Five hours. How was she supposed to stay alive that long, let alone free to move about? Guess we're going to find out just how good a teacher you are, Luce. "I'll do my best, but I make no promises. And come heavily armed."

"Will do." By now, Lucy's voice was barely understandable through the static. "Don't worry, Di, we will get you out of there." And that was it. The transmission failed.

Diane Mellis sat there for a while, just listening to the static before she closed the channel. Lucy and Scud would come for her. She knew they would.

She just hoped they'd be in time.

**********************************************
"...it is Black Dragon..."

Thousands of miles above the world, one of the NSA's many satellites caught the brief conversation. Echelon, programmed to search out any number of phrases and keywords, instantly latched onto that particular snippet and flagged it for attention.

Not even a minute later, after a hasty consultation, the NSA forwarded it to the two agencies most likely to be interested: The CIA (in the form of Homeland Security) and the DEBS.

Okay, I should probably admit right not that I have no idea how long this will be, but I doubt it'll be as long as the last two. I do expect to have a lot of fun with this one as well, but not in a Sensory Pleasure kind of way. *quiet, evil chuckle*

Sienna Miller as Diane Mellis.