From: "BUMBARGER,MICHELLE" Subject: TPFICT: A Union of Souls (14/24) Date: 02 Jan 2000 14:05:01 -0500 A Union of Souls An Angel/New Series Tomorrow People Crossover by Michele Mason Bumbarger Chapter Thirteen Adam would have been lying if he said he was happy and comfortable with what was going on. He wasn't, and he didn't think that 'pow-wowing' with Angel and his friends was going to help matters or make things anymore understandable or acceptable. Whistler hadn't really told them anything; he hadn't cleared up any of the fog. As a matter of fact the demon -- and after daring to probe the being psychically, Adam did believe that he wasn't at all human or normal -- had only raised more questions than he had answered. Then again, glancing at Ami as the freight elevator descended, Adam thought that maybe Whistler in all his crypticism had answered some of her questions. Questions that she clearly hadn't thought to ask aloud, and the answers were those that she wasn't ready to share. Something had happened upstairs in that office, only Adam didn't have the slightest clue of what that something was. He really didn't like being in the dark like this. He was trusting Ami right now, trusting her reliable instincts, but that didn't mean that he was happy with it. He planned on keeping a close eye on this Whistler. He didn't plan on leaving 'Angel investigations' or Los Angeles until he had a few answers that he could be relatively happy with. And, most importantly, he wasn't going anywhere until he was convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt that Ami was safe. The freight elevator reached the bottom floor and Whistler threw up the gate, loudly announcing their arrival. Four heads swiveled to look expectantly in their direction, their quiet conversation lulling. Adam took in the unpretentious and windowless surroundings, wondering why anyone would chose to live in the rather darkened environment. Still it was clean, immaculately clean for the 'typical bachelor' and decorated spartanly and eclectically. His eyes quickly skimmed a wall of swords and weapons and he looked away with a shiver. Something told him that those were more than decorations and display pieces. The knowledge unsettled him. Why would a private investigator need those types of weapons? "Ah, Ami, Adam, you're still with us, I see," the researcher, Giles, greeted them with a friendly nod of his head. "I trust that your conversation with Whistler was suitably enlightening?" "Not exactly," Adam gave Whistler a hard look. "As enlightened as I could get them," Whistler immediately objected. He looked around and then decided to settle into an occupied armchair. Tossing his hat on the coffee table, he tossed one leg over the arm of the chair. "I'm not going to do all of Angelus' work for him." Angel glared at the demon -- if that was what he truly was -- Adam knew he wasn't human but he still wasn't prepared to go as far as calling him a demon. "What's that supposed to mean? And I hope you're comfortable." "Quite, thanks," Whistler reached into his shirt pocket and produced a cigar. "It means that I told them what I think that they need to know. The rest is up to you." "Do you speak English at all?" The question came from Cordelia who stood near the kitchen area with her arms folded across her chest. The brunette looked either bored or disgusted, Adam couldn't tell which. Maybe it was both. "Or is like cryptic part of your oh-so-cool routine? Because if it is, it needs a lot of work." Whistler stared at her then turned his attention to Angel. "Is she always like this?" "Only to people who dress badly," Angel answered. He looked to Adam and Ami, who still hovered nearest to the exit. "Come in, sit down. I'm guessing that we need to talk." "You could say that," Adam hung back still and Ami followed suit. "Considering that we still don't know what's going on." As a matter of fact, Adam didn't know why they were still there. Except for Ami's dream and Ami's inexplicable and sudden trust of Whistler. "What exactly did you tell them?" The investigator's attention returned to Whistler who had just bitten the tip off of his cigar. "Don't dare spit that on the floor. There's a trash can in the kitchen." The look that Whistler gave Angel could only be described as petulant. He spoke around the cigar bit, swinging his legs to the floor. "Just what they needed to know to trust you. And trust themselves." "Cryptic. Cryptic," Cordelia sang out. She strolled into the living area, flouncing onto the sofa with overdone and overacted exasperation. "I swear, I don't know how he ever taught you anything, Angel. You can't even understand a word that he says." "Perhaps we should start at the beginning," Giles removed his glasses, his attention on Adam and Ami. "Is it safe to presume that you came here tonight because you had an unusual experience? Something inexplicable or supernatural in nature?" "No," Ami spoke up. "Nothing. I don't -- I had a dream and he was in it." Adam looked at her in surprise. [Are you sure about this Ami?] [There's something weird going on here, Adam, but it's not bad. They aren't going to hurt us. I don't know how I know that, but I do.] "A dream?" Giles asked with obvious interest. "A dream that Angel was a part of?" "Oh that figures," Doyle rolled his eyes, "They always dream about the dark, mysterious and broody ones. Never us normal, homely guys." "A dream made you come here?" Angel asked. He looked a bit embarrassed to be the subject of Ami's dream, but he still plowed forward. "Just a dream?" "No," Ami took a deep breath and crossed to the kitchen table. Adam followed her, curiously. [Trust me, Adam. This might be the only way to get to the bottom of this.] Indicating a kitchen chair, she looked to Angel, "May I?" "Please." Ami sat down and looked down at her hands. "My dreams -- they aren't completely normal. They're not normal at all. When I dream things -- they happen." "Your dreams are prophetic?" Giles stared at her in complete amazement. "I suppose so. Usually. Sometimes though, they're just so -- symbolic that I can't make any sense of them, so I don't know if they come true or not." Ami wrung her hands, "I came here tonight hoping to figure out -- why I was dreaming about Angel. And it seemed like you were expecting me to show up." Ami directed the last at Angel, and held the slightest question. "He was," Whistler remarked from the kitchen. He chewed on the cigar, but he had not lit it. Angel shot the demon a look, which the demon ignored. "Look, Angel, you know that there's more going on here than meets the eye. Try trusting Them even if you won't trust me. Try trusting that good old fashioned internal instinct that has served you so well." Whistler paused, patting his pockets. "Besides, it won't be long till they figure it out anyway, but you probably all ready know that." "Doyle has visions," Angel said after a moment of contemplation. "What? Angel, man are you --" Doyle sputtered until Angel turned and leveled a dark stare in his direction. "I know what I'm doing, Doyle." He looked back at the two Tomorrow People. "Doyle has visions of people in trouble. Not your usual kinds of trouble, but the more -- supernatural, evil kind of trouble." "Visions?" Adam asked. This was getting too weird -- and too coincidental. Angel glanced at his co-worker again and the Irishman sighed heavily. "Yeah, I get visions from --" his pale eyes glanced towards the ceiling, "-- The Powers That Be, we'll call them. Not much mind you. A name, a face, an address. Then we swoop in and save the day." "Angel swoops in, you mean," Cordelia said. "You usually get stuck with the cleanup. Or hide oh-so-bravely in a corner. As long as we're being honest -- for some really bizarre reason that no one informed me of -- we might as well be completely honest." "I don't hide! Angel's just better at that fighting sort of thing than I am." Doyle and Cordelia's behavior must have been a common thing because Angel ignored them easily enough. "Last night, Doyle had a vision about you. So, I went to meet you and see if you were in any trouble. But you weren't, were you?" His brow creased in confusion. "Something's not right, here." "How about we're telling two complete and perfect strangers that Doyle is our personal crystal ball?" "No," Angel shook his head. "Doyle's visions -- people are usually already in trouble by the time Doyle has his vision. But Ami isn't." "I wouldn't say that per se," Giles interjected. "We do not know the nature of Ami's dream. It is entirely possible that she has been contacted by some demonic entity on another plane during her sleep cycle." Adam felt Ami shudder. He remembered the dream that mind-merge brought forth, and if they were to take Whistler's words as truth, and certainly everyone else here seemed to, it had to be a possibility. Clearly one that neither he nor Ami liked. He rested his hands comfortingly on her shoulders. "That's rather morbid and --" "Frightening," Ami finished Adam's thought and sentence. "But you believe it," Angel pointed out. "What makes you say that?" "You're scared." Ami simply stared at him. "What makes you think that I'm scared? Upset yes, but not scared." "I smell it." Adam gave a slight gasp. Enough was enough already. Obviously Ami agreed. She said aloud what he only thought, "Enough is enough. Now I know he's not human, he claims to be a demon," Ami pointed a finger at Whistler who still chewed thoughtfully -- and silently -- on his cigar. "But you're not human either. So. What. Are. You?" *** End of Chapter Thirteen ******** Michele B. Author, Archivist & Webmistress Jagged Edge Fan Fiction Archive http://www.jaggededge.pair.com ******** ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "BUMBARGER,MICHELLE" Subject: TPFICT: A Union of Souls (15/24) Date: 02 Jan 2000 14:12:24 -0500 A Union of Souls An Angel/New Series Tomorrow People Crossover by Michele Mason Bumbarger Chapter Fourteen The question so took Angel by surprise that for a moment he wasn't certain he had even heard her correctly. "Excuse me?" "I said what are you?" "He's Angel, he's--" "Quiet Doyle." Angel interrupted Doyle with a simple lifting of his finger. He pulled out a chair and sat down directly across from the coed. Ami had not stopped watching him the entire time, watching him as though she already knew the answer but was waiting for his confirmation. He held her gaze for a moment, aware that every eye in the room was focused on him, aware of the underlying tension. He could hear the increase in heart rates, could smell the adrenaline that began to pump through the others at Ami's question. Most of all, he could smell the underlying fear that he would tell her the truth. Which, he realized, probably wasn't too far from reality. Angel poised his question carefully. "What do you think I am, Ami?" Drusilla had known. The familiar energy coming from Ami and her friend told him -- told the demon -- that they were like Drusilla in some ways. Only they were also more than Drusilla; their energy patterns were stronger, more controlled. They were what Drusilla would have become if he hadn't made her like him. Drusilla had called him a demon, she had called him death. In her last hours, she likened him to Satan. He wondered what Ami would see. What she would say. "I don't know, I only know that --" Her answer came by rote even as he actually felt her brush his mind with her own. Most people were not sensitive to a mental probing, and most people were not skilled enough to perform one. Even those who claimed to read minds couldn't have probed him with the quick and devastating accuracy that Ami did. The slight pressure withdrew as quickly as it arrived, the young woman drawing a sharp breath, her eyes going wide. Focusing on her and only her, Angel noted the increase in respiration, the elevated heart rate and the hormones that fear and surprise released into the blood stream. He knew that she had found her answer even before she said it. "You're a vampire." It was not a question. She shook her head, closing her eyes briefly. "No, that's impossible. Vampires don't exist. It's just stories and legends." "So are demons," Whistler called out from across the room. Angel almost turned to glare at the demon, but he saw the slight change that came over Ami as her eyes darted in Whistler's direction. She believed the demon; she knew what Whistler was and his words were the words that erased all her doubts. "Okay, that was funny," Cordelia forced a laugh and clapped her hands together once. "Now, can we get back to reality here?" "Cordelia, don't." Angel never took his attention from Ami. "It's all right." "It's all right? Did I miss something here? I thought that the whole idea was that people didn't know that you're a vampire?" "I don't understand," Ami said at last. She offered no preamble and no explanation. "It would take a long time to explain," Angel said softly. "Let's just say that Bram Stoker and Anne Rice don't exactly have it all right. I help people -- I work with Doyle because -- I'm looking for something. I haven't found it and I don't know if I ever will, but I'm looking for it." "Seeking redemption," the young woman breathed softly, knowledge dawning in her dark eyes. Her friend stared at her curiously, and stared at him with more than a bit of disbelief and fear; but Angel felt no fear from Ami. It was as if his words had explained something; or perhaps having her world turned upside down as it had been she was just ready to take things in stride. Besides, they still had her dream to contend with. And her connection to Cordovan and the Book of Isiri. A connection that Angel was convinced existed, but that they hadn't yet found. Angel gave her a half-smile. "Seeking redemption." For a moment neither of them spoke, a silent understanding passing between t hem. Whoever this young woman was, she was brought into this for a reason. Now it was simply a matter of finding out what that reason was. "Should we leave you two alone?" Whistler called from the kitchen. Angel growled softly. Whistler was truly beginning to grate on his nerves. If he was here to be helpful, he was doing a poor job of it. He looked away from Ami and to Whistler. "Anything else you didn't tell them that we should know about?" "I told you, I'm here to help. I'm not here to do all the work." "So far, you haven't done any work," Doyle accused. "You brought up a good point, Angel," Giles approached the table and took the only remaining chair available. Angel was secretly grateful for the former Watcher. His academic mind could at times be one-track, and might lead them to the answers they were searching for. "Unless there is something to say otherwise in Ami's dream -- which we have yet to analyze -- Ami doesn't appear to be in any trouble. Yet, if what you've been telling me about Doyle's visions is true, she should be in great peril as we speak. Something is not adding up." "There was a woman watching me," Ami spoke up after giving an unguarded glance to her friend. Angel had been watching their interaction and something about it seemed just a bit -- off. It was as if they understood one another without words; as if they shared the same mind. It was a little eerie. "On campus yesterday. And then tonight, I was at a party and she showed up again." "Giselle." Whistler leaned forward on the counter. "I'd bet my good hat on it." "You don't have a good hat," Doyle frowned. "And who's Giselle?" "Exactly what I was wondering," Angel turned his full attention to the demon. "Something you're keeping from us?" "Only until you needed to know it." Whistler shrugged. "I asked around, did a little digging. She's known as the 'Dark Witch' in circles where she's known at all. Cordovan's current lover -- and a mambo. Or she was a mambo. She's a little more than that now." "She's a dance?" Cordelia asked in disbelief. "No," Ami corrected her, it seemed that the response was automatic. "A mambo is a priestess of vodoun." "Vo-dawn?" "It's a religion, Cordelia," Giles said with a bit of exasperation. "Frequently known as voodoo." "Oh, voodoo. Why didn't she just say that then?" "Because voodoo is not its proper name. Voodoo is a derogatory name given to the religion by those who didn't understand it. It's used in Hollywood movies and the images that it conjures up -- such as evil magick and voodoo dolls and human sacrifice -- are not part of the religion of vodoun any more that those who follow Wicca worship the devil. "However, there are those who once practiced the white magick of vodoun who find themselves drawn in by black magick and the darker forces." Giles stopped in his explanation and turned to look at the demon. "Are you saying that this woman, this Giselle is one of these? A bokor?" "You got it." "And she is involved with this man -- this Cordovan?" "I don't like the sound of this," Angel looked up, his eyes meeting Giles'. "Black magick and the Book of Isiri. All at Cordovan's fingertips." "Yeah, but what's the relationship with Ami?" Doyle asked. "Excuse me?" Ami's friend, Adam interrupted their conversation. "Could you tell us what's going on here? Who is this Cordovan? And the Book of Isiri?" A few minutes later, Ami and her friend had been brought up to speed on the true power hierarchy of Los Angeles and the missing spellbook. It was clear they remained skeptical -- but they didn't leave. If anything, Angel sensed their growing knowledge of events and what was happening was making them more and more wary. Ami looked pointedly at Doyle. "And your vision told you that I was wrapped up in this somehow?" "Oh, no, nothing that simple. It would be nice if my visions were that simple," Doyle replied. "My vision said that you're in trouble -- or that you're going to be in trouble." "Well, you did see this Giselle person," Cordelia remarked. "Maybe she put a whammy on you or something." "That could be it!" Giles sprang up from the table, hurrying across the room. "What? I had a good idea?" "No, but you reminded me of something I had forgotten with our new direction in conversation." The man picked up a small notebook and began flipping through it, piquing Angel's curiosity with his next words. "Remember that Wesley called with more information about the Book of Isiri, and specifically the spell of Enslavement while Whistler was speaking with our young guests. "Once every thousand years, under certain conditions, proper moon placement and planetary alignment, etc. The Enslavement has the possibility of becoming more than a mere spell." "More than a mere spell?" Doyle interjected. "It sounded bad enough as it was. Zombies running around LA. Makes me want to stay in doors for a year." Cordelia smiled and batted her eyes at him, "You'd be doing us all a favor." "The right soul, the proper vessel can give the Master a source of unlimited power that goes beyond the scope of the spell. What if this bokor, Giselle, is trying to find that source of ultimate power for the spell? What if . . . she's looking at Ami?" Giles paused, his attention on the young woman seated quietly at the kitchen table. He approached her cautiously, his words careful. "I do not mean to pry Ami, but I have good reason to believe that you may be psychic, or that you may possess some level of psychic ability. Do you? I only ask because it's important. There is a certain type of individual needed for the spell to work in the fashion that Giselle may be desiring." Again, Angel noted the silent communication between Ami and Adam. She held the young man's gaze for a long moment, and the furrow in Adam's brow told Angel that he didn't want Ami to tell them anything. Angel's suspicion was confirmed when Ami glanced down at her hands and Adam spoke up. "Let's say that we believe any of this," Adam chose his words carefully, "What does this spell do? What makes it so dangerous?" Angel stared at Ami while Giles launched into an explanation of the spell of Enslavement. She never looked up from her hands, although she grew more and more pale with each of Giles words. He still hadn't figured out how she and Adam seemed to be so much on the same wavelength with one another -- and not knowing was driving him crazy. Even more curious were Ami's reactions to Giles' words. She was deathly afraid -- not of him, even knowing that he was a vampire -- but of this woman Giselle. He caught the first hints of fear when Giles began to speak, and the smell of fear that surrounded her was becoming stronger by the moment. "What did she do to you, Ami?" Angel spoke softly to Ami and Ami alone. He noticed that Giles stopped speaking the moment that he spoke, he felt all the attention in the room focus on him, but he was focused on Ami -- the central figure of Doyle's vision. Her head rose slowly, tears glistening in her eyes. Her fear was very palatable now. Angel felt the demon strike and respond, and it was a bit of a challenge to fight the beast inside of him down. When she spoke, her voice quivered. "She was inside my head. It was the most horrible thing that has ever happened to me." "Inside your head?" Giles asked quietly. Slowly, haltingly, Ami began to tell them what happened to her at the party. When she finished an uncomfortable silence hung in the room. It was Doyle who spoke first. "Sounds like some sort of hypnosis to me." Giles nodded in agreement. "I was thinking the same thing. It's quite clear that she wanted to get to you, Ami. The only reason would be this spell. If she were testing you to see if you were the sort of vessel that she sought." Returning his glasses to his face, Giles flipped through a few pages and began to read, "A young soul, pure and full of light. A soul that no evil can touch, no death-blood may taint. Hands have never known a weapon, whether forged of steel or wood or stone and shall never wield such. A soul which knows the thoughts of all and sees into the hearts of men. A soul whose dreams call forth that which shall be and whose memories, ever strong tie to the past. A soul that moves like the gods, in the blinking of an eye is here no more. The ancient, god-sent ship is its mother's bosom, hidden beneath sand and sea --" The suddenness with which Ami jumped to her feet surprised them all, including her friend Adam. He looked as pale and alarmed as she did; no, on second consideration, Angel realized that Ami was far more upset than Adam. She visibly trembled, her entire body racked with invisible sobs. "Ami?" Adam followed her to her feet, his voice full of concern as he reached for her. He drew her into a hug, "I know. I know." "This means something to the two of you, I take it?" Giles looked from one to the other. Adam nodded numbly. His mouth twisted in a grimace. Whatever he was about to say, he didn't like it. But Ami's reaction and the knowledge of Giselle made this a necessity. "That's --" He paused, giving a quick glance at Ami before continuing. "That describes us. I think you're right. Giselle wants Ami for her spell." *** End of Chapter Fourteen ******** Michele B. Author, Archivist & Webmistress Jagged Edge Fan Fiction Archive http://www.jaggededge.pair.com ******** ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "BUMBARGER,MICHELLE" Subject: TPFICT: A Union of Souls (16/24) Date: 02 Jan 2000 14:16:05 -0500 A Union of Souls An Angel/New Series Tomorrow People Crossover by Michele Mason Bumbarger Chapter Fifteen Giselle Vasalle was ready. For years she had waited and planned for this. For years she searched for the Book of Isiri, tracking the careers and discoveries of archeologists and museum curators. She combed through art and science magazines, she taught herself to use a computer to 'surf the net' and visit newsgroups. She was a woman with a plan and had been since that fateful day when she learned through one of her many dream-visions of the existence of the Book. And surely the dark powers wished her to have possession of it, or else they would never have sent the visions. The visions only came to warn her or to grant her some great power and knowledge. They were never ambigous . . . and they were always hauntingly accurate. Twice now her visions had saved Derrick from the hands of that rogue vampire Angel. Not that he was any sort of threat to them, their security or their safety. He had tried once to breach the security of Kristoph Cordovan's fortress. He had failed miserably and he had never made an attempt since. Kristoph and Derrick worried about him, but Giselle never did. She simply looked forward to the day that he could be put on a leash and turned into a plaything -- just like the others would be. Someday soon. Very, very soon. Staring out of the large bay window at the city sprawled beneath her, the witch sipped her wine, a slow, devious smile turning up the corners of her mouth. Fate and destiny had delivered not only the Book of Isiri into her hands, but the girl who would allow the spell to be worked to its full potential as well. The abilities that woman-child possessed were even more remarkable than the sorcerers who penned the Book could have ever guessed. They spoke from speculation; they spoke and wrote from a time when men still believed that the gods walked the earth. They did not know the truth that she did: the girl was very, very real. And the only creatures of power that walked the earth had been born and created of darkness. Years of waiting had not disappointed her. Giving herself to the dark powers was indeed worth it. Tomorrow night, she would reap all that she had sown. "There you are Witch," her lover's voice came from behind her. Giselle tilted her neck obligingly, allowing him to place a delicate kiss on the bare skin there. "I thought that you would be down in the chamber, making the final arrangements." "The final arrangements have already been made. You have nothing to do but relax and wait." "Is that so?" His fingers trailed lightly down her arms, another kiss landing where her neck joined her shoulders. She closed her eyes and sighed, one hand reaching back to coil through his hair. It was so easy to fool them -- it was always easy to fool them. She had been playacting for so long that sometimes she almost believed that she truly did enjoy sharing his bed. "I have heard that the subject you were targeting has gone for help -- in the form of Angel." "He's not a threat to you, Kristoph, he never has been." Giselle sipped her wine, twisting away from him as one finger snaked beneath the strap of her dress. "And whom did you hear that from? Your sentries? The ones that I sent to keep an eye on that little splinter that you call Angel. He'll be occupied. No need to worry about him." "And the girl? How do you plan on getting to her?" Kristoph strolled over to the bar, oblivious to the glare of disgust that she directed at his back. "I've told you several times, Giselle, I don't like to get my hands dirty. Or the hands of my employees. With that lady cop on his side all the time --" "If anyone is less of a concern than one lone vampire who thinks that he's a modern day John Wayne, it's that police officer. She's never come close to pinning anything on you and she never will. Your people -- and your lawyers -- are just too good." She was smiling at him in adoration by the time he turned, a glass of bourbon in one hand. "And don't worry about one little college girl. When the time is right, she will come to us. I promise you that. "Then all of LA shall be yours." As she said the words, she almost believed them herself. If she had been forced to choose any other vocation, it would have been acting. She could lie with the best of them. Giselle spent years molding Kristoph, winding him around her finger and binding him to her whims -- he simply was so enamoured of her that he had never realized it. They never did; men had a weakness, even those with demon blood -- and that weakness was woman. A woman who could use her charms and her wiles was a woman to be reckoned with. Tomorrow night, when the moon rose full in the sky, it would be the moment of reckoning. The spell of Enslavement would be cast, giving ultimate power -- but not to Kristoph. By the time he knew what happened -- it would already be too late. He would be at her whims and her mercy. They all would. It was what she had been waiting for. Returning to her side, he placed a kiss on her lips. "Then I shall put my faith in my beautiful Dark Witch. Shall we have dinner then?" "Whatever you wish," Giselle whispered breathlessly. "I live only to serve you." Her smile was one of genuine pleasure as she took his offered arm and they made their way to the waiting limousine. But it was not for the reason he believed. It was because the arrogant fool took her at her word and his arrogance would be his undoing. *** End of Chapter Fifteen ******** Michele B. Author, Archivist & Webmistress Jagged Edge Fan Fiction Archive http://www.jaggededge.pair.com ******** ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "BUMBARGER,MICHELLE" Subject: TPFICT: Hear No Evil (0/1) Date: 04 Jan 2000 12:02:11 -0500 Hear No Evil (0/1) New Series Tomorrow People by Michele Mason Bumbarger Author's Notes and Disclaimer My only explanation for this is that I've probably taken too many antibiotics combined with working too hard. It's all in fun, it's supposed to be humorous, and it's dedicated to every single time that I've taken something out of context in the past twelve months. Summary: Megabyte's overactive imagination takes an overheard conversation completely out of context. Disclaimer: Guess what, they aren't mine. Too bad really. Megabyte, Ami and Adam don't belong to me. They belong to Roger Damon Price, Thames/Tetra Television, ITV, etal. It's thier world and I'm just borrowing it as my temporary playground. Feedback is welcome, but just remember I don't claim any responsibility for what illness makes me do, say, or write. And yes, I promise to get back to "A Union of Souls" and stop taking up bandwidth with the products of my illness produced scribblings. ******** Michele B. Author, Archivist & Webmistress Jagged Edge Fan Fiction Archive http://www.jaggededge.pair.com ******** ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "BUMBARGER,MICHELLE" Subject: TPFICT: Hear No Evil (1/1) Date: 04 Jan 2000 12:03:35 -0500 Hear No Evil (1/1) New Series Tomorrow People By Michele Mason Bumbarger Megabyte teleported into the Ship, raising his hand to call out a greeting when he noticed that he was alone in the main hold. That was odd. He could have sworn that Adam and Ami were around here somewhere. At the stray and wandering thought, the Ship hummed in response and Megabyte smiled at the glowing cylinder. He gave it a nod of thanks and headed in the indicted direction, pausing just outside the alcove where his two friends had secreted themselves. "Oh, boy," Ami's familiar accented voice drifted to his ears. "I can not believe I just did that." "I can," came Adam's immediate response. "It's your fault, you know. You talked me into it." "I did not." "Well, you didn't try to talk me out of it." Megabyte furrowed his brow curiously. What on earth were they talking about? He was prepared to step forward, when he heard Adam's soft chuckle. "Did you really me to talk you out of it? I could tell that you really wanted this, Ami." "I know, but now, I just feel so silly. Like everyone knows." "No, just me." "You're not going to tell anyone are you?" "Now you want to keep it secret?" "Maybe. For a while. I don't know." Adam's voice dropped, "You're not ashamed are you?" "I don't know. I'm just not sure that I thought it through completely." "Well, you were on your back pretty quickly." "There was still plenty of time to stop it." "You didn't want to stop it." Megabyte felt his jaw drop and knew that his eyes had to be bulging out of his head as his mind wrapped around the various meanings to their conversations. The one that stood out most clearly in his mind though, made his stomach twist slightly. They couldn't have. Not Adam and Ami. No way. "You're going to tell. I can see it all over your face. You just can't wait to tell someone." "Ami, I'm not going to say a word, I promise." "Good." And then, "Ow." "What's wrong?" "I'm sore. Tender. It's really uncomfortable." Air. Megabyte forced himself to draw air into his lungs and forced himself to breathe. He didn't know whether to be angry or disgusted. How could they? "So, aside from a little discomfort, how do you really feel about it?" A moment of silence, a shuffle of motion. "I don't know. What do you think?" "Can you show it to me again?" Megabyte's imagination was running into overdrive. This could not be happening. He should leave. He should turn and leave and confront them later. He should -- "Ow! Don't touch it, I told you, it still hurts." He should barge right in there with one hand over his eyes and demand that they stop right now. Which was precisely what he did. "Okay, you two just stop right there, right now! I don't even want any explanations, but I think that if you're going to do that, you should do it somewhere else. And you shouldn't go behind people's backs. I mean we're all friends and . . ." "Megabyte?" Two voices questioned in unison. "What are you going on about?" Adam asked, quiet humor in his voice. "And why is your hand over your eyes?" Ami added. He lowered his hand, slowly, relieved to see that they were both fully clothed. Okay, so Ami was holding up her t-shirt slightly, and Adam was kneeling on the floor beside her, but they were dressed. "Oh . . . you guys are . . . what are you guys doing?" With a heavy sigh and a roll of her eyes, Ami drew his attention. "You better not laugh." Then lifting her shirt a bit more, she turned to him, displaying a silver hoop dangling through her belly button. "I got it pierced. Adam talked me into it." Adam laughed and rolled his eyes. "I did not!" He tilted his head thoughtfully at Megabyte. "Megabyte, what did you think we were doing?" Megabyte did not a mirror to know that his face was a red as his hair. He could feel himself blushing from his toes to the very roots of his hair. He raked his hands nervously through his hair, swallowing at his abruptly dry throat and attempting to work moisture into his mouth. "Well . . . I . . . heard you talking and . . . I . . . that's really a cute piercing there, Ami." She smiled, distracted by his nonsequitir. "Thank you." Adam wasn't that easily dissuaded. "Don't try to change the subject. What did you think we were doing?" From the look that Adam gave him, he knew that the Australian knew exactly what sort of not-so-family-oriented thoughts had possessed Megabyte's mind. And he knew that Adam wasn't going to let him off the hook that easily. [Can we just forget about it?] He pleaded telepathically to Adam, hoping that Ami didn't pick up on the thought. Too late, he could tell it from the way her eyes narrowed. She rested her fists on her hips and glared at him. "Megabyte Damon! How could you! You . . . you . . . walking hormone!" Tossing her hands in the air in frustration, she gave him a last piercing glare and teleported away. Well, there were worse things she could have called him. "She's never going to forgive you for this one." Adam pointed out. "And what was I supposed to think? I mean, if you heard what the two of you were saying -- " Megabyte stopped and held up his hands in surrender. "Can we just drop it?" "Sure thing," Adam smiled. "What do you say we grab a movie?" Somehow, Megabyte knew he hadn't heard the last of this. For the first time in his life, he cursed his imagination. Following Adam, he braced himself for what was going to be a very long day. *** End ******** Michele B. Author, Archivist & Webmistress Jagged Edge Fan Fiction Archive http://www.jaggededge.pair.com ******** ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Vivian Arney Subject: Re: TPFICT: Calling all writers!! Date: 04 Jan 2000 09:21:43 -0800 (PST) On Fri, 31 Dec 1999 21:38:37 EST, tpfict@lists.xmission.com wrote: > This sounds great! I hope people contribute! How about trying your hand at it? :+) Viv Tia's Pals' Press c/o Vivian Arney P.O. Box 4187 Austin, Tx 78765-4187 We've been selling Fanfiction, memorabilia and books for twelve years. SASE for more info. _______________________________________________________ Visit Excite Shopping at http://shopping.excite.com The fastest way to find your Holiday gift this season ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "Michael Matott" Subject: TPFICT: Looking for a few betas Date: 05 Jan 2000 08:03:25 PST Hi all. Over the break I wrote the second story in my 'future' series. The first one was "Relativity", about Megabyte and Millicent. This story, while part of a larger story, is not exactly a sequel to the first. I'm building on events in the first story, but it's not necessary to have read it. By the same token, the story is set in my serial universe, but has no references to other stories. (When I get the third story done, however, it's going to tie together just about every loose thread, plot device, and foreshadow from my serial. :-) ) If anyone's interested it's a really short story. 3 pages. I'm looking for a turnaround time of say a week. Thanks! mike ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "BUMBARGER,MICHELLE" Subject: TPFICT: Calling all betas! Date: 05 Jan 2000 16:12:26 -0500 Um...as unluck would have it, I actually manage to get a sizeable, workable group of betas and then I lose a few. Anyway, I'm nearly finished with "A Union of Souls" (cheer, cheer) but I need at least two more people to jump on my beta bandwagon. I'm going to be a really difficult stickler here though and request that you have a) been reading the fic as its been posting (if not, I'll have to catch you up fast ) b) are actually familiar with the series "Angel" (this is important because fate and bad luck managed to steal away part of my "Angel" beta team) Okay, that's all. I'll go away now. Please let me know if anyone is interested (Oh, and btw, if you're already doing beta-reading for me, it's okay, I'm not ditching you! Your help has been wonderful and greatly, greatly appreciated. I just like to have an arsenal of beta readers when I work on a huge story like this one) ******** Michele B. Author, Archivist & Webmistress Jagged Edge Fan Fiction Archive http://www.jaggededge.pair.com ******** ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "Janet Smith" Subject: Re: TPFICT: Calling all betas! Date: 05 Jan 2000 18:28:50 -0800 Michelle, I would love to beta for your story. I am familiar with both 'Angel' and 'Buffy', and I greatly admire your writing. Alyson ----- Original Message ----- Sent: Wednesday, January 05, 2000 1:12 PM > Um...as unluck would have it, I actually manage to get a sizeable, workable > group of betas and then I lose a few. Anyway, I'm nearly finished with "A > Union of Souls" (cheer, cheer) but I need at least two more people to jump > on my beta bandwagon. I'm going to be a really difficult stickler here > though and request that you have > > a) been reading the fic as its been posting (if not, I'll have to catch you > up fast ) > b) are actually familiar with the series "Angel" (this is important because > fate and bad luck managed to steal away part of my "Angel" beta team) > > Okay, that's all. I'll go away now. Please let me know if anyone is > interested > > (Oh, and btw, if you're already doing beta-reading for me, it's okay, I'm > not ditching you! Your help has been wonderful and greatly, greatly > appreciated. I just like to have an arsenal of beta readers when I work on a > huge story like this one) > > ******** > Michele B. > Author, Archivist & Webmistress > Jagged Edge Fan Fiction Archive > http://www.jaggededge.pair.com > ******** > > > ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: jsulzer Subject: RE: TPFICT: Calling all betas! Date: 06 Jan 2000 09:10:41 -0500 Michele, I have beta read for you in the past, and am available if you still need anyone. Real Life kept me too busy for the past few months to get much of anything done on-list, but things are calmer now, thank goodness! Jen Sulzer jsulzer@kent.edu ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Jackie Newman Subject: TPFICT: Keep Breathing Part 10 of 10 Date: 06 Jan 2000 22:55:43 +0000 Keep Breathing By Jacqueline Newman An Original Series/ New Series cross over. Part 10 of 10 The Jameson Academy for gifted children, Corroua Sta, Scotland. The Tomorrow People stared in disbelief at the scene before them. The devastation brought so suddenly to their peaceful school was overwhelming. The tragedy of Rebecca's fall from the landing onto the hard flagstones was unbearable. Gradually they became aware that there was a bright purple light bathing the entire room. A spotlight of great intensity slowly focused before them and the unmistakable silhouette of two figures formed within the beam. Angie shook herself as she stepped from the transporter beam. Teleportation was a natural phenomenon to the TP's but it always left her feeling disorientated and drained. This had been an especially long jaunt. Dematerializing on the other side of the Galaxy and having your essence bounced between three relay stations was bad enough but having to reconstitute yourself without the help of TIM's jaunting pad made it an especially difficult task. Now that the ordeal was over and their sight cleared Stephen and Angie surveyed the scene. Assessing the seriousness of the situation they immediately linked minds. It was obvious that Rebecca was about to die and that the whole group was suffering from deep shock. Holding up her hand in the tradition of a lens, a type of high priestess on her world, Angie summoned as much psionic energy as she could. Gradually her influence spun outwards from the school until it covered the whole building and grounds, gently she slowed time itself until one heart beat lasted a minute and nothing stirred expect those held within the time bubble. Looking around they caught sight of John bounding down the stairs towards them. "What the hell is going on?" Asked a shocked Stephen. "When we got your message to come home immediately we had no idea things had got so bad!" John looked at his friends joining partner and held out his hand. "Am I glad to see you." He said earnestly. "I take it that you are responsible for this light?" He motioned around them at the purple psionic glow which bathed the walls of the building. "Yes. I've created a time bubble around the immediate area, but I can only hold time at this pace for a few minutes. Four at most. While we sort things out with the girl. Any longer than that and the whole area will move out of synch with the surrounding space and cause a time rift spanning half of Scotland. What ever we decide we have to move fast." Mr. Parinder stepped forward. "I don't know who you are or what you have done, but do I take it that Becky is not quite dead?" Angie bent down and placed a hand on the girls torso. "There is still a grain of life held within her and I can bring her back of you wish." She said looking up. Billy, who had also run down the stairs, joined them beside his sister's body and spoke for the first time. "Look what I have done to her." He sobbed. "This is all my fault. If she dies I'll know that I killed her as much as if I had stabbed her with that knife." "None of us hold you responsible for this." Added Mr. Parinder putting his arm around the boys shoulders. "What happened hear was as much her own fault. She has suffered so much mental pain for so many years that I think we should let her be at peace at last." "You can't do that!" This came from Elizabeth who had jaunted into the hallway unnoticed just before Rebecca's fall. "We do not have the right to choose who lives and who dies. It is our duty to keep her alive as long as there is hope for her survival." "I agree with Liz." Added Hsui, who still sat on the floor amongst the remnants of the paneled ceiling. "Life is sacred and if Angie has been blessed with the gifts to save life then it is her obligation to use them." "Well someone better make a decision quickly I cannot stretch time for much longer." Commented Angie. John took a step forward and addressed the group. "But what sort of a life would we be bringing her back to? All these witnesses, all these police." He gestured at the small band of flack jacketed men lying prostrate around the room. "They all witnessed what happened here today." Liz opened her mouth to speak but he held up his hand to stop her. "And I know that you are going to suggest that we wipe their memories, but *we* will still remember. This child has committed one murder already, and tried to kill both her father and me. Can we allow her to get away with that scot-free? We cannot afford for things to come out in court but I feel that we cannot allow a known murderess to run around unchecked amongst us." He paused for a moment and looked at Elizabeth, as his speech trailed off. "Well that's my opinion at least..." "I agree with John," said Stephen, "that she must not go unpunished for what she has done, but who are we to be judge and jury, dishing out death sentences, and that's what it feels like we are doing, to a child who has hardly had a chance to live." He turned to Angie. "Is there some way that you can correct her mental problems? To loose her special powers has been punishment enough already." Angie shook her head. "I'm so sorry but there is nothing I can do for her mental state. If you decide to keep her alive I can treat her physical wounds and return her to what she was before but anything else is beyond my abilities as a healer. And please don't ask me to make the decision for you." This last comment was aimed directly at John. "Snap decisions of a medical nature have caused enough problems around here lately." "Well what ever we decide you better do it quick," added Hsui. "Just look at the walls." They all turned around to see the very fabric of the building begin to buckle under the temporal strain. The difference between their region of space time and that just outside the walls was stretching the very fabric of the universe, pockets of hyperspace could be seen as the walls thinned. During this momentary distraction Charlotte approached her parents. "Mum?" "Yes Charlie." Replied Liz "Why can't we send her for trial on the Trig? After all she was a Tomorrow Person once and that makes her a member of the Galactic Federation and answerable to their laws. If we keep her alive but they decide her punishment we will know we did the right thing." Telepathic agreement amongst the assembled Tomorrow People was immediate. Why they had not thought of this solution earlier was something for later debate. Deftly Angie smoothed her hands across Rebecca's broken body; quickly she rejoined the severed bones and healed the damaged tissues. A few seconds later Rebecca, restored to perfect health, started to open her eyes. "Now for the tricky bit!" she said standing once again and smiling at her friends. "Stand back please." There was an almost inaudible wine and shafts of incandescent light spat from her fingers. This light contrasted to the psionic field, which already surrounded them in both colour and intensity, With great relief they saw the building take on a more solid form once again as the time bubble dissolved. Gradually their senses became aware of the return to normal time as the noise of the surrounding countryside reached their ears once again. *********************** Beneath Loch Ossain, Corroua Sta, Scotland. Two days later. John and Stephen walked nonchalantly down the entry ramp towards Mr. Parinder and Billy, who waited patiently while they made the final arrangements. "There you are." Remarked Stephen. "The Kallinar's coordinates have been preprogrammed to take you straight to the Trig." "And Rebecca is in slow sleep for the duration of the journey so you don't have to worry about her." Added John. "I just don't know how to thank you." Said Mr. Parinder. "For so many years I lived in fear of discovery, and here you were all the time, people who I could be friends with. People like me." He smiled warmly at John, Liz, Stephen, and Angie. "From what you have told me, and what I have calculated, you and your wife actually 'broke out' before Carol and myself, so that makes you the original Tomorrow People on the planet." Remarked John. "Actually, I find this quite a relief. At least I'm not the oldest TP any more." At this they all chuckled. "Are you sure that you can sort out the rest of my personal affairs?" Said Mr. Parinder. "I'm truly grateful that you persuaded the police to drop the charges against me. And I've signed my power of attorney over to Jameson Industries, if you do decide to sell the house it won't bother me. That old place holds too many bad memories." He turned towards Angie. "I'm not sure what sort of creature you are but in my book you are closest as I'll ever come to meeting an angel." "Don't put ideas like that into her head." Joked Stephen "She'll start wearing a halo next." This comment was met with a sharp telekinetic dig in the ribs from his joining partner. "It was a pleasure to meet you sir, and let me assure you I am no where close to being an angel." She stretched out her arms and took both his hands in hers. Mr. Parinder's eyes widened as her human form dissolved away before him to reveal her sleek lilac skin shimmering with a multitude of colours. Her hair was now jet black and almost reached to the floor; she was naked apart from a flowing transparent gown, which appeared to move as if caught in a gentle breeze. But the most startling thing was the piercing red eyes, which seemed to look into his very soul. The sight of Angie's true form even took John by surprise but in the next blink of an eye she was returned to her usual state, a middle aged, slightly scruffy, ordinary looking woman. "It is good to know that the Trig will look after you and your family, what ever they decide for Rebecca's future rest assured that it will be a much better life than she could have ever lived here on Earth." They were then joined by many other Tomorrow People all wanting to wish Billy and his father goodbye. Billy walked over and kissed Elizabeth on the cheek. " Are you ok?" She asked." I know this has all come as quite a shock to you." William sighed and stared down at the floor. "I'm still confused by everything, maybe some time in your space ship will give Dad and me a chance to sort things out. I'd really like to come back some day too, if I can. After all we only just met." She watched his gaze as he looked across at Lara and smiled. "You are always welcome, once you arrive you can keep touch and let us know how things are going. When Rebecca's trial is over and things are settled you are welcome to come back and stay with us for a while. And don't forget you still have to 'break out' and feel the true nature of what it means to be a Tomorrow person." Eventually the Parinder family embarked for their long voyage and the TP's returned to the safety of the lab to watch the take off. Once it was all over the youngest returned to the rooms and the school took on its usual air of a bubbling happy home. John, Angie, Liz and Stephen were left in the hallway to clear up after the redecorating. "Look who's coming?" Called Stephen as he sensed Adam and Ami jaunting in. John put down the toolbox that he was about to use on repairs to the stair banister and greeted them. "How's the shoulder? All healed up I hope?" "Yes." Said Adam, limbering up his arm to prove that it was fine. "A few days rest in Ami's capable hands has done me the world of good." "I'm sorry that I was not around to lend a hand when you needed it." John said apologetically. "Look John." Remarked Adam. "There is no need for apologies, we are all in this together." Liz walked over and put her arm around her husbands' shoulders. "And maybe one day you will forgive yourself for being human." She whispered. "Well together or not," commented Stephen cheekily, "I've had a long day working on the Kallinar so I think I'll have an early night." He started to put down the brush in his hand and prepared to jaunt. (Oh no you don't.) Pathed Angie as she used TK to trip him up. (You don't get away with it that easily.) Stephen sat sulking on the hall floor covered in dust and splashes of paint from the brush, which speckled his face. (Just you wait... just you wait!) He seethed. The End ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Jackie Newman Subject: TPFICT: Keep Breathing part 7 of 10 Date: 06 Jan 2000 22:54:20 +0000 Keep Breathing By Jacqueline Newman An Original Series/ New Series cross over. Part 7 of 10 Fort William Police Station 11 a.m. the next day. Journalists and TV personnel jostled for position outside the building, each one trying to get the best view of the action about to unfold. It had not taken long for the scandal surrounding Jameson Industries to spread amongst the media and many different newspapers and TV companies were represented in the crowd, each hoping to get that exclusive interview with the companies Managing Director and his wife. Kidnapping of children and scandal surrounding a private boarding school were very controversial issues and guaranteed to create headlines and increased readership. As the morning wore on the crowd became impatient for some action, their deadlines were approaching fast, and if they were to get this juicy story to press in time for the evening papers something just had to happen soon. Finally there was movement inside, a small group of people could be seen, through the glass paneling, standing in the foyer. The assembled journalists raised up their cameras and microphones straining to get the best shot. At last two men came through the doors and stood atop the stone steps, one was tall and red headed wearing a smart business suit. The other, short and stocky, looked oddly out of place dressed in a kilt. Silence fell as the first man cleared his throat... "Ladies and gentleman," he began in an unmistakable northeast American accent. "As the lawyer representing Mr. & Mrs. Phillips and spokesman for Jameson Industries I would like to give you a brief statement." The crowd pushed forward and there were moans of disappointment from the back. "We want to speak to them in person," grumbled a scruffy young man at the front of the throng. "Tell them to come out here and face the press themselves." Megabyte fixed the journalist with a stare and the edges of his mouth cracked momentarily as he probed into the camera held in the man's hand. Gently he applied telekinetic pressure to the mechanism until it snapped then he smiled more openly as he scrambled the digital information held within it's memory. "I have been authorized to make this statement on behalf of the company and I'm sure you will all appreciate, once you hear the facts, that the Philip's have suffered enough trauma in the past twenty four hours not to relive it by speaking to you directly. They are most distressed by the false accusations made against them and wish to return to their home in peace." There was a further murmur of disappointment as the assembled journalists felt the scandal of a good story slip away from them, false accusations were not as much fun to report as truth but could still be manipulated by skillful writers into tantalizing stories. Eventually hush fell upon the group as they waited to record the pre-prepared statement. Megabyte took the paper from his pocket; it had not taken much for him to convince the police that he was the Jameson Company lawyer. Embroidering his earlier discussions with legal jargon pathed to him by TIM they had accepted that the prisoners in their cells had to be released without charge. It had taken more for him to convince John that giving the press an official sounding statement was the next action to take. John had wanted to leave by a back door to avoid publicity as much as possible, but had agreed, in the end, that appearing more open would quash the suspicions faster than slipping away secretly. Eventually the compromise, that Megabyte would address the press, had been agreed upon. "Jameson Industries has always been a company with high visions for the future," he began. "We strongly believe that through innovations in technology we can make this planet a safer, cleaner and more pleasurable place in which to live. This is a goal shared by all of our employees." He paused momentarily for his words to sink in. "We are convinced that the future success of any company lies in its workforce and seek to employ only the best. To this end we have funded the Jameson Academy as a center for academic excellence for 10 years. Stephen Jameson's own children were educated there and he has the highest regard for it's principal and teaching staff. Due to an unfortunate misunderstanding two of our most trusted personnel have been falsely accused of the diabolical crime of kidnapping two children. I am now at liberty to explain to you all the circumstances which surrounded this unfortunate episode." The crowd murmured once again as they began to sense something news worthy in what was being said. Megabyte continued. "The children in question had run away from home and having heard about the school had taken refuge there. They have now made statements to the police completely exonerating my clients in any criminal activity. They entered the school voluntarily and the staff had no knowledge that this was against the parents permission. The children's father is, at present, being questioned by police regarding the suspicious death of his wife and the children have been released by social services back into the care of the school. All charges have been dropped against my clients and the school has been fully reopened. I trust that you will respect the privacy of my clients as well as the other children at the school who have been upset by the events which took place there yesterday. I ask you on behalf of Mr. & Mrs. Phillips to leave the school in peace so that it can return to its usual activities." He paused once again and looked over his shoulder at Andrew. "Jameson Industries has never at any time doubted the honesty of it's staff and has always had complete faith in the dedication of all personnel to live by the ideals which it expects of them. We will not be seeking compensation in this matter and wish to put this unfortunate episode behind us and move forward to achieve our goals as a company." (I think this is going to your head.) Pathed Andrew impatiently. (Let's just get out of here before they ask any awkward questions.) Megabyte gave his friend a nod of acceptance and put the paper back into his pocket. "Ladies and gentlemen that is all, if you would mind moving away my clients will now return to the school." Perfectly on cue a mini-bus marked with the school's emblem pulled up the driveway, the journalists stepped back out of the way as they watched John and Liz emerge from the police station and climb aboard. Why none of then thought of taking pictures at that moment, was a mystery they would later attempt to explain to their various editors and producers. Andrew's projected telepathic image was convincing enough for all assembled to believe they were seeing the real John and Liz leaving to return home. ************************ The Lab, London. Five hours later... "Well done Andrew." Said John patting him on the shoulder. "You did an excellent job of distracting them while we got out of there." "It was nothing, I'm used to projecting images that large quite frequently these days." "Still, it was a great idea. They have no evidence of what we actually look like, which makes me feel quite relieved." Added Liz before she drank deeply from her mug of tea. "I am also relieved that the story has only received minor mentions in the local press and a few by-lines in the Evening Standard. It seems that without suitable images most news networks dropped the story fast." Commented TIM. "There is, of course, the matter of the father. Once the police charge him, if they charge him, there is still some danger that you or John may be needed to give evidence in court." John stood up. "We'll just have to face that when and if it happens. For now I'm just happy that they believe William and Rebecca and that we managed to persuade them to give us custody, I am usually against the use of psionic suggestion but on this occasion it seems to have worked out for the best. Now that all the fuss is over I think I'd like to take a long shower and have an early night." He looked across the linking table at his wife. "Neither of us has had much sleep." He said with a smile. Elizabeth smiled back at her husband but did not rise from her seat. "Before we settle back into our old routines I think we should discuss exactly what happened here over the past few days. Things have been said and done which I find quite distressing." She looked directly at John. "It's not our arrest that has upset me most but the fact that we are not all here facing the consequences together." John stiffened and sat down angrily on a nearby couch. "I know what you all think, that if Stephen had been here things would have been easier to handle. But what would he have done any differently? It's not my fault that Rebecca hid William at the school without telling us. You cannot blame me for the father's actions in driving his kids away from home. I can't take responsibility for everything that happens around here!" He crossed his arms in the familiar gesture which meant subject closed. Liz looked at Adam and they both spoke at once. "Exactly!" Liz continued alone. "Look John, I know you were in charge of things for a long time before Adam and the others made contact but you must have realized, over the years, that we are all responsible adults." She wondered if she was about to push him too far but continued anyway. "They had taken care of themselves for years and although they made mistakes once in a while they survived together as a unit. I think that things got more out of hand than they should have done because Stephen is not here. We all know Stephen is a joker, and annoying at times, but it was his name that was given to the company. He's one of your oldest and closest friends and I think you need him here more than you will admit to." John opened his mouth to comment but Adam began to speak. "We are 'The Tomorrow people', we are taking care of this planet together and that includes our wives and kids. When you accused Angie of being irresponsible Stephen could do nothing but take her away. She has the right to make mistakes like the rest of us, she may not be human but she is a being with feelings. What you said was cruel and uncalled for, I'm not surprised that Stephen felt he had to leave with her. What you must do now is apologize, for all our sakes. Ask them to come home, for despite her origins Angie has chosen this place as her home, and we all miss her. Stop taking responsibility for everything, admit that you were wrong and bring our family back together again." When Adam finished there was a long period of silence. The atmosphere in the lab was thick with the tension between him and John. Looking from one to another John realized that Adam had spoken for them all in his request that Stephen and Angie return home. But to John apologizing was almost alien to his nature, for so many years his views had hardly been questioned, once his mind was made up the others so often complied that he seldom stopped to question whether it was the correct cause of action. Now in just a few days his entire relationship with them was being challenged, his unwavering confidence in his own ability to lead The Tomorrow People was being questioned. Without saying a word he stood purposely and left the lab, maybe the hot cleansing of a shower could straighten out his thoughts. Watching him leave in silence Adam turned to Liz. "Did I say too much?" She shook her head. "It had to be said one day. He's a good man, give him time to think, and he'll come around. It's just difficult for someone who has never made a mistake to admit that he was wrong." She tipped the last dregs of her tea into her mouth and offered the empty mug to TIM for re-absorption. "I think that it would be best if we gave John a wide birth for a day or two." She placed her hand against the nearest of TIM's glowing globes. "But just to be prepared. TIM, could you please advise the Trig that we will be needing a transporter beam to relay us to Manyarner as soon as possible." "I'll contact them straight away and make the necessary arrangements." Replied TIM emphatically. "One thing that John was right about," she added standing and crossing towards the cabins, "I definitely need some sleep." ************************** ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Jackie Newman Subject: TPFICT: Keep Breathing part 8 of 10 Date: 06 Jan 2000 22:54:58 +0000 Keep Breathing By Jacqueline Newman An Original Series/ New Series cross over. Part 8 of 10 The Jameson Academy for gifted children, Corroua Sta, Scotland. Three days later. Ami put down her equipment sighed, and left the science room; the insistent ringing of the office phone had interrupted her biology lesson yet again. It had been two days since John and Liz left for Manyarner, and the school had almost returned to normal. Apart, that is, from the canceling of Liz' art classes and there being no one to answer the phone. Still, she thought, it was a great relief when John had, at last, agreed to travel to Angie's home world and request her return. A little discomfort, and interruptions, to normal routine could easily be dealt with. Eventually she entered the office and picked up the receiver. "Hello. Can I help you?" Inspector Crompton's voice was unmistakable on the other end of the line, his thick Derbyshire accent making it difficult for her to follow what he was saying. "Can I please speak to the Principal, Mrs. Phillips. I have some important news for her regarding Rebecca and William Parinder who I believe are staying with you at the moment." Ami thought quickly. "I'm afraid both Mr. and Mrs. Phillips are away for a short holiday at present. I am the senior member of staff available may I help you?" "Why girl you don't sound old enough to be a member of staff, but if you're the only one there I'll have to tell you. This morning at 8am, while being transferred from Fort William station back down to Derbyshire for psychiatric assessment, Mr. Parinder escaped from police custody. A thorough investigation has led us to believe that he may make his way Corroua Sta and attempt to take back his children. During his questioning, regarding the recent unfortunate incident, he seemed quite convinced that they were being brainwashed in some way and that the school was some kind of cover for a secret organization. It was these accusations which led us to seek a second opinion about his mental state, but I am sorry, to say we underestimated his resourcefulness. He slipped past one of my best officers totally unseen. How he managed it is something for our internal inquiry but I thought you should be warned that he is at large and probably heading your way." Shocked by what she had been told Ami put down the receiver. (Adam,) she pathed (Can you come to the office at once please?) (TIM, did you monitor that call?) She asked. (Of course.) (Have you detected any Sap activity in the vicinity? I know that it is difficult to slip past your sensor grid but it's better to be cautious.) (You can be assured that if anyone comes within half a mile of the school grounds I will alert you immediately. There is nothing to worry about.) Replied the biotronic computer. But despite TIM's reassuring tones she still felt very uneasy. It was with a look of relief that she greeted Adam as he stepped through the door into the office. "What's up?" He inquired in his usual cheerful tone. "You look like you've seen a ghost!" "I don't want to alarm the kids but I think we have a problem." It took just a few short moments for her to relay the contents of Inspector Crompton's call. He listened intently for a while then his face broke into a wide grin. "And you are worried that he could sneak in here and snatch back the kids without us even detecting him? With the ever-vigilant TIM watching over us and a building full of telepaths trained to detect foreign thoughts..." Suddenly she realized how silly she had been, after all what could one sap do against them all? "I'm sorry Adam. I didn't mean to be alarmist, I just thought you should be told that's all." Adam took on a more earnest expression. "Look, if you are really worried let me go get half a dozen stun guns from the lab. That way even if he did get in here we are prepared for him." She nodded at his suggestion and watched him walk to the far wall. Lifting his hand to a hidden security plate a brief burst of telekinesis made the wall dissolve before him and reveal a stairway. Turning he smiled. "You return to your class and I'll be back in a few minutes." Once the familiar wall had reappeared Ami crossed to the office doorway. Adam's presence always gave her strength. She clicked off the light switch and went out into the hall. ********************** The old rusty fire escape creaked under his body weight. He stopped his ascent and stood motionless straining to hear signs of his detection, but no one stirred. Moving upwards once again he came to the open window. Gently he wrapped his finders around the cold metal frame. Slowly he pulled it open just enough to see inside. In the half-light of dusk he could make out the disheveled bunk beds and the cloths scattered on the floor. The walls were liberally covered in posters of football stars and rock bands. 'Good,' he thought, 'this is one of the boys rooms, they are still downstairs in classes.' Effortlessly he climbed over the sill and entered the room, then turned to lift a large package, that he had laid down on the top step, in after him. As he huddled there in the gloom his heart and breathing slowed. Tentatively at first, then with more excitement he began to unwrap the cloth surrounding the package. At last he felt the heavy weight of the shotgun fully in his hands. "Please give me the strength to use this if I need to..." he whispered into the darkness. *************** Ami was crossing the hallway when she heard the noise from above. A sudden blast of loud music came from the games room. 'Now who is up there at this time of day?' she wondered. Pathing good naturedly on an open channel she called to the younger tomorrow people. (Come on down here and finish your classes, just because Liz is away doesn't mean you can do what ever you like.) After a few minutes with no response she shrugged, 'I bet they teleported back to their classrooms hoping I wouldn't know who was sciving off! Well it doesn't matter, lessons are almost over for today anyway.' Walking forward once again she was suddenly halted by the sound off a door slamming loudly. "What now!" Placing her hand against her wrist band she teleported and reappeared in the room above. Looking around she soon realised that no one was there, a quick burst of telekinesis stopped the CD player from blasting out its music. As she did this a chill ran up her spine. The sudden intense feeling that she was being watched overcame her. "Who's there?" She said, but there was no reply. "Silly woman, you'll be scared of your own shadow next." Dismissing her feelings she left the room and carefully closed the door behind her. "I better get back and finish that experiment before five." She said as she hurried along the first floor landing. "Don't go any further!" Demanded a rough male voice. Swinging around Ami came face to face with Counselor Parinder. In his hand was the shotgun, which he menacingly raised up to point at her chest. "You know what I've come for. Where are my children?" He asked in a flat emotionless tone. "I don't know what you people are doing here, but you have corrupted my babies for long enough. Now I'm here to take them home where they belong." Ami stood rigid with fear and swallowed hard. Of course she could have jaunted away from there, or called out telepathically to the others but held in the grip of terror the colour drained from her face and all she could think of was the gun pointing directly at her. "Well!" He said, in a more threatening tone. "I asked you a question, where are my kids?" Ami looked over her shoulder and mumbled something about biology classes. "What did you say girl? Don't muck me about. Go get William and Rebecca and we'll leave and no one will be hurt." He stepped forward and raised the gun up to point directly between her eyes. "But if you try to stop me I'll do anything I have to, to get them back where they belong. Where I can protect them." At last Ami found her voice. "They are down in the science lab doing a biology class." She pointed down to the room that she had left only minutes earlier. "That's better. Now let's both go down there and get them. Walk slowly mind, we don't want any mishaps to occur do we." Cautiously Ami turned around and moved towards the stairs. Reaching the top step she hesitated and looked over her shoulder. Without saying a word Counselor Parinder nudged her in the back with the gun and she moved forwards once again. Suddenly there was a shout. They both looked around to see Adam emerge from the office brandishing a stun gun. "Stop right there Mr. Parinder or I'll shoot." He called. "With that plastic water pistol! I don't think so. You don't scare me boy!" Replied Mr. Parinder digging the shotgun deeper into Ami's back. "Now go and get my kids while I'm still in a good mood, we don't want anyone to get hurt do we." Instantly she realised what she had to do. With her in the way Adam could not get a clear shot with the stun gun, and there was always the possibility that he may pull the trigger in the few seconds it took for the stun blast to take effect. Instinctively she swiveled around and threw out her arms to push Mr. Parinder off his feet. This tack obviously worked as he was caught unawares and stumbled backwards a few steps away from her. In the next instant she was defend by the crack of the gun as it fired, almost in slow motion she watched as the pellets skimmed past her face to travel at enormous speed downwards towards Adam. With a wrenching motion they tore into his right shoulder, the blast knocking him off his feet. With his face contorted in pain he slumped down in the office doorway. "Adam. No!" She screamed. **************************** The shotgun blast was clearly audible from the school driveway. The two police officers dived for cover as their car slammed to a halt. Quickly assessing that the shot had been fired inside the building they called for backup on their radio then jumped from the vehicle and made their way up the few steps towards the front door of the school. ***************************** The Lab, London. "I think we have trouble!" Said TIM Megabyte sat watching TV from one of the couches. "What sort of trouble?" He asked without looking up. "I have just detected gun shots from within the school. I cannot raise Adam or Ami telepathically and a few moments ago I intercepted a radio transmission from two local police officers requesting armed backup!" "Wow! But I thought no one could get anywhere near to the school without you detecting it?" Exclaimed Megabyte. "What shall we do now?" "I think we should go and see what's happening." Responded Mike as he materialized on the jaunting pad. "Grab a couple of stun guns and we'll go sort out this maniac once and for all." "Not so fast!" Said TIM. "If you go jaunting in there without knowing the situation you might make things worse than they already are. I suggest that you contact John and Elizabeth right away and inform them of the situation." "TIM's right." Said Megabyte sitting down at the linking table. We have all the kids to worry about and two of us against a maniac with a gun may only make things worse. A few seconds delay won't do any harm." "Your wrong." Said Hsui Tai, as she jaunted into the lab and grabbed a stun gun from the rack. "There are three of us." ********************************** Corroua Sta, Scotland. Ami ran down the stairs as fast as her legs would carry her. Bending down she inspected the wound in Adam's shoulder. The many pellets embedded there had badly torn the flesh, and he was loosing blood fast, but thankfully he was still alive. Mr. Parinder had also descended and now stood on the bottom step, the shot gun hanging limply in his hands. "Will he be OK? I didn't mean for anyone to get hurt." He said gently. "You just don't understand how important it is that I protect my kids." "It's a bit late for sympathy now." She barked. "You could have killed him!" quickly she tore some material from her skirt and held it against the wound. "We need to get him to hospital right away." During the incident in the hallway the younger Tomorrow People had emerged unnoticed from their various classrooms. Led by Maria a small group came out of the science lab and stood watching the scene. Another group emerged from behind the staircase with Lara protectively standing, arms outstretched at the front. Mr. Parinder looked around the group and spotted Rebecca and William. "I'm so glad to see you two at last, come over here and stand beside me." He beckoned them towards him. But neither of the children moved. The group of young TP's shifted closer to protect their newest friends. "You'll have to shoot us, before we let you take them away from here." Said Lara with a confident air. Realizing that this was not going to be as easy as he had at first thought Mr. Parinder reassessed the situation. He had honestly never intended to hurt anyone at the school. The gun had been brought purely as a threat to make them comply with his demands. This bunch of young people seemed to have more strength of character than he had ever imagined. Who ever or what ever they were, it was clear that they wouldn't give up his children lightly. But he knew that, for their own sakes, it was in their best interests to do so. Somehow he had to convince them that what he was doing was right. "Look." He said, lowering the gun to his side. "I really don't want to hurt any of you. You just don't understand how important it is that I keep Rebecca and William with me at all times. I don't mean them any harm but that's just the way it is." Hearing his father's words incensed Billy. How could he say that it was for the best? All those years that he had locked them in the house, refusing them friends, denying them the usual freedoms given to ordinary kids. Ever since their mother had died in that accident he had acted like a man obsessed. Stepping forward Billy addressed his father directly. "You never cared for us!" He shouted sarcastically. "You killed our mother and want to keep us locked away from the rest of the world." Mr. Parinder took a few steps across the hallway towards his son. In a gesture of affection he held out his loose hand. "No you've got it all wrong, it wasn't me who killed your mother. Everything I have ever done was for you and your sisters own good. I want to protect you from the world and yourselves. You just don't know the pain it has caused me to deny you these things but it was for the best. One day you'll understand." Now it was Becky's turn to confront her father. Fixating him with her eyes she slowly walked across to stand defiantly beside her brother. "How can you say that all those terrible things you did were for our good. How can you lie to our friends and make out that you are such a loving, caring father when we know the truth. You killed our mother and want us dead too!" "No. No!" he replied emphatically. "You know exactly who it was who killed her. I take the blame for covering up all these years, but you must remember what really happened that night. All I want to do is protect you and Billy. I promise that I will never hurt you." During the exchange between the children and their father no one had noticed the large front door slowly open. Without warning armed police flooded into the building from all directions. There were confused shouts and the screams of many children. In the chaos Mr. Parinder sprang forward and grabbed Rebecca. Pulling her towards him he held the gun to her head. As the confusion subsided the police froze and all eyes turned to the two figures now standing at the foot of the staircase. "Don't do a thing or I'll have no choice but to use this." Shouted Mr. Parinder to the closest officers. "Back away nice and slowly now." Looking towards the commanding officer the assembled swat team received a nod. Gently they complied with the gun mans demands. "That's better." Mr. Parinder turned towards Billy who still stood exposed at the front of the group of TP's. "Now William, come over here." Without looking back Billy walked forward until he stood beside his sister, who was held tightly in her father's grip. Gently he took her hand, which trembled with fear. The police officers could hardly believe their eyes at what happened next. Three figures materialized from nowhere in the middle of the hallway. Shocked by the events one officer fired his pistol towards the interlopers. Mike ducked just in time and the bullet sped past him to embed itself in the banister of the carved staircase. Hsui lunged forward and fired her stun gun, the wide sweep of the beam catching the group of young TP's, as well as a few of the police men. The only person not shocked by the appearance of the three was Mr. Parinder. Using this diversion as a cover he pulled Rebecca and William roughly up the stairs towards the landing. Once there he raised the gun towards the ceiling and fired. The blast tore at the wood paneling and sent splinters scattering on the breeze. But the loudness of the blast had the desired effect. All eyes were transfixed on him once again. As the shooting stopped silence descended upon the scene. Gradually the dust settled and they could assess the situation. Many of the TP's lay unconscious on the hall floor. Likewise there were many police officers held motionless by the stun blast, their weapons still gripped firmly in their hands. Ami was crouching beside Adam intent on stemming the flow of blood from his wound. In the center of the hallway sat Hsui Tai, Megabyte and Mike each covered in a layer of wood chips and dust that had fallen from the ceiling. Megabyte wiped a trickle of blood from a gash on his forehead that he had received somehow during the exchange of fire. Then came a voice they all knew. Clear and authoritative it cut through their confusion. "You seem to have the upper hand. What exactly do you intend to do now?" Said John as he stepped out of the shadows at the far end of the landing and stood face to face with Counselor Parinder and his children. ************************* ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Jackie Newman Subject: TPFICT: Keep Breathing part 9 of 10 Date: 06 Jan 2000 22:55:19 +0000 Keep Breathing By Jacqueline Newman An Original Series/ New Series cross over. Part 9 of 10 The Jameson Academy for gifted children, Corroua Sta, Scotland. Counselor Parinder looked John defiantly in the eye. "You again!" He snapped. "John Phillips, leader of this strange band of misfits. Just why do you people insist on interfering in my families' affairs?" "I think you know why." Replied John then switching to telepathy he asked (How long have you been able to do this?) For the briefest of moments Mr. Parinder's face was incredulous, the arm holding the shotgun to Rebecca's head dropped for just an instant before he regained his composure and lifted it up to threaten her once again. "What exactly are you?" He asked in a remarkably soft tone. "I never dreamed that anyone else..." (We call ourselves the Tomorrow People. We are the next stage of human evolution, are totally peaceful, and are attempting to protect ourselves, and our children, from the rest of the world. Somewhat like you have been trying to do with Billy and Becky all these years.) Mr. Parinder felt the knot within his stomach dissolve away as he sent the first open telepathic message of his life. (I thought my wife and I were all alone...You see, she nearly died when it happened...) (When she broke out.) Pathed John putting the words directly into Mr. Parinder's mind. (Yes. When she 'broke out'. That's how we met. And when we had the kids she said that the likely hood of them being like us was so great that we must do everything we could to prevent it from happening. So dangerous, just so dangerous for the young...) Mr. Parinder's body began to relax and tears formed in his eyes. Tears he had longed to shed for so many tortuous years. (How did your wife die?) Asked John at last. (I know it wasn't an accident.) (No. Not an accident.) He turned to look at Rebecca who had released herself from his now limp grasp and stood watching the two men intently. (Poor Becky, she was always a bit strange even as a young baby. When she began to show the signs, that she was about to... 'Break out', we were both very concerned. You see she was diagnosed as having behavioral problems as far back as nursery school. She saw so many Doctors and Psychiatrists I lost count. After her first psychotic episode we knew that she could never be trusted alone with anyone but us. And if she had our powers? Well there would be no way to stop her from doing terrible things. So we put up a sort of shield around her, a way of preventing her from using the powers as they emerged.) (But something went wrong?) Asked John. (Terribly wrong. It was one summer's evening when I was late returning from a meeting. Sally, my wife, was left alone in the house with her... I'm still not too sure how Becky did it but when I got home there she was hanging from the kitchen ceiling strung up by the telephone wire, a knife sticking in her chest. And Rebecca sat idly playing with her dolls on the floor below.) He shuddered violently as the memory overwhelmed him. John reached out his mind and entered Mr. Parinder's consciousness, lending him strength and understanding. Mr. Parinder lifted his head and nodded a silent thank you before he continued. (Of course there was no question of telling the authorities what had happened. If they took her away I could no longer protect her with the shield. So I took down my wife's body and made it look like an intruder had attacked her. It has taken all of my strength, ever since, to try and keep them both close enough within my range to protect them.) All this time Billy and Rebecca had stood motionless watching the expressions rise and fall on the two men's faces. The shotgun now hung loosely at Mr. Parinder's side. It was obvious that they were engaged in a deep telepathic discussion but being shut out like this was more than Rebecca could bare. "What are you talking about?" She demanded. "Is it me? Are you telling him all our families sordid little secrets?" Mr. Parinder looked at his daughter with deep compassion. "Yes, my child. There can be no more lies. It's time we faced up to the truth." Rebecca snapped her head up and stared intently at John. "What kind of lies has be been telling you?" She hissed menacingly. "I didn't kill her. None of it is true! None of it, do you hear!" Without warning she pulled something bright and shiny from her jeans pocket. They stood dumbfounded as she lifted the blade of the knife up to her brother's throat. "What the hell are you doing Sis!" He cried. "Shut up you!" John took a step towards Rebecca then thought better of it and retreated. "And where did you get that?" He asked gently. "You peace loving goody goodies are so easily distracted, taking it from the dining room and slipping it into my pocket was a piece of cake. You thought that because you had robbed me of my powers you could control me but you were wrong. You took away what was rightfully mine and tried to make me one of your happy little drones, living in your loving little school. But you can never have me. I have got my freedom back and I will never give it up without a fight." "John. Please forgive her, she doesn't know what she is doing." Said Rebecca's father compassionately. "Dad. I know exactly what I'm doing." She replied. "What I should have done to you years ago!" In the next instant Rebecca was lunging at her father, the blade catching the reflected light from the hallway below. As she stabbed wildly out in front of her she expected to be met by some kind of resistance but instead her efforts met only empty air. All eyes shot down as Mr. Parinder re-materialized in the hallway below. Some of the police , still conscious after the earlier stun gun battle now fainted from shock. The remaining Tomorrow People smiled warmly as the familiar sparkle of light faded from around his rapidly solidifying form. But Billy had not been watching his father as he teleported, his eyes were transfixed upon the knife held in his sister's hand and the new knowledge that for all these years the hatred he felt for his father was unfounded. Although he had not been privy to the telepathic conversation he now knew that there was more to his mother's death than he previously realised... but what about Becky's dreams? She had been so convincing in the way that she told him the snippets of fragmented memory. He had implicitly trusted and protected her as far back as he could remember. Now his whole understanding of their family life was turned upside down. Once Rebecca had realised that her father had teleported to safety she swung around to face Billy and John. It took just two strides for John to approach them both, his intentions were clear; he wanted, no needed, to disarm this child before she did any more harm. But Rebecca could also read the purpose on John's face. Sensing that this was her last chance to grab freedom she lunged towards him wielding the knife menacingly towards his chest. "No!" Shouted Billy, as he also leapt into action. "This has to stop!" But it was too late, his foot was caught in a tear on the carpet and he tumbled towards her out of control. As his bulk fell awkwardly against his sister's slight frame she fell backwards. The two children smashed into the old banister and it immediately cracked under their joint body weight. Frantically he grappled with the hand that held the knife, undaunted she wriggled below him desperate to free herself. Then, with a resounding crash, the banister gave way beneath them. Rebecca's stunned face glared upwards, her lips moving in a silent plea, as she plummeted downwards to land in a mangled heap on the flagstones below. Mr. Parinder turned around in utter disbelief as the limp form of his youngest child came to rest on the cold floor, her body contorted and her neck broken he stood motionless trying to make sense of the sight before him. Above them Billy, curled into a ball and sobbed bitterly, his arms wrapped tightly around the remaining banister which had checked his fall. ************************** ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "BUMBARGER,MICHELLE" Subject: TPFICT: A Union of Souls (17/27) Date: 11 Jan 2000 13:04:28 -0500 I figure that five out of six betas can't be wrong, so I'm going to post this: ******** A Union of Souls (17/27) An Angel/New Series Tomorrow People Crossover By Michele Mason Bumbarger Chapter Sixteen The pieces of the puzzle had all fallen into place. Only one thing was missing - the date that the spell had to be performed. While Giles had set to work checking tome after tome, and placing call after call to Sunnydale and London, Doyle and Angel had settled themselves in front of the computer. That pursuit hadn't been long lasting, however. Ami, who had been strangely silent and detached after the discussion of Giselle, the Enslavement spell and her oddly cryptic dream, which even Giles could not seem to make sense of, moved into action. Obviously tired of watching Doyle and Angel pull up zero on their computer searches, she had offered to 'take a go at it.' Now she punched up link after link, scanning various occult sites and newsgroups with an expertise that none of them possessed. Angel could only think of one person who would have been better or more accurate, but Willow was in Sunnydale, and Giles had been unable to reach her or Buffy by telephone. But, of course, it was Homecoming. Angel sat in his office, flipping through a dusty and fading tome. It was written in Gaelic, so naturally Giles had passed it off to him rather than attempt to translate. Not that Angel minded - it gave him something to do while he mulled over things. He stood on common ground with Ami and Adam - they didn't believe in vampires, and demons and sorcery, and he was having a difficult time wrapping his mind around the truth of their existence. Or rather, he was having some difficulty accepting the psychic talents that they claimed to possess. Telepathy, teleportation - it was fascinating and it was frightening. And it guilted him to no end to think that the two young people in the outer office were the promise of humanity's future; he'd known one such woman like that in his lifetime. It had been her energy and power that drew him, that made him tease and taunt her to insanity before finally bestowing on her the gift of vampirism on the day she took her vows as a bride of God. Drusilla would have been like them if he had allowed it. If she had not met and charmed Angelus on one fateful night. Now, she was simply crazy as a loon, a psychotic vampire blessed with the gift of visions. And a terrible, unpredictable adversary to those who would dare cross her. Angel forced thoughts and memories of Drusilla to the back of his mind. Now was not the time to dwell on the wrongs and atrocities of the past. The future was the important thing. The future of a young woman who claimed to be a powerful telepath and was the target of Cordovan's latest schemes and plans. "You know, you really seem to have this isolationist thing down to a science." Looking up, Angel was unsurprised to see Whistler leaning in the doorway. He stared at the demon, saying nothing, knowing that Whistler had not said all that he intended to say in that one sentence. The demon confirmed Angel's suspicions when he strolled into the office and taking the seat across from the vampire's desk made himself comfortable. He leaned back in the chair, arms folded across his chest, ankles propped on the desktop. "I thought part of your purpose here was to interact - get involved in their lives - reach out." "It's a little crowded out there right now. I can work just as well in here." Sufficient explanation given, Angel returned his attention to the book. "What? You don't have questions for me?" The vampire answered without looking up from the book, "Are you going to answer them?" "You can always try me. I'll certainly tell you what I can." "That's new," Angel remarked sourly, flipping to the next page. The words didn't come into focus and he realized that the demon's words and presence had distracted him already. He lifted his head, studying Whistler for a moment before asking his question. "Did you know about them?" He didn't have to say whom it was he referred to. From where he sat he could see Adam, engaged in conversation with Giles and throwing the occasional glance in Angel's direction. It was a bit unnerving; Angel couldn't shake the feeling that Adam was measuring him and sizing him up and that he was falling a little bit short of the mark. A small matter, and one that normally would not have bothered the vampire. Yet, it did. It gnawed at him, like a persistent but unreachable itch, as if his subconscious knew something he did not and that it knew it was vitally important for Angel to have Adam's acceptance and approval. "I know what I'm told, which isn't always much." Whistler paused, mostly for emphasis unless Angel missed his guess. "I knew about them." "You couldn't have told me last night? You could have saved a lot of trouble and confusion if I'd known the truth." "It wasn't my place." "Never stopped you before." "It wasn't my place, Angelus." Angel flinched at the use of his other name, the one he used when he razed the world as a blood-thirsty, violent demon. Whistler only used the name to get under his skin, and it bothered Angel that it worked so well; that he reacted so predictably. "There were things that I couldn't tell you because it isn't all about you. It's about her too." "Now you're talking in riddles again." Angel lowered his eyes to the book again. "Trust, Angel. It was about trust. I could get you both together, but the trust had to come from somewhere else." "I told her - them - what I am," Angel reminded the demon, "That should be enough for your ideas about trust." "You're still not getting it. It isn't about you trusting her - it was about her trusting you." Angel was prevented from answering the demon as Doyle's head peeked into the office, "You might want to get out here, Angel. Looks like the little lady found something." Exchanging a glance with Whistler, who looked at him and shrugged in unfeigned confusion, Angel stood up from behind the desk. He followed on Doyle's heels back into the main office where all attention was riveted on Ami and Cordelia, who had joined her at the computer. "What do we know?" Angel asked. He peripherally noted the surprised and questioning glances that both Ami and Adam threw in his direction and, replaying his words in his mind, he wondered precisely what he said wrong. "Don't mind him, he's always abrupt. You get used to it," Cordelia tossed out by way of explanation. "I'm not abrupt," Angel protested softly, a bit hurt by the brunette's words. Then, half a moment later, he sighed in exasperation, more than a bit annoyed by the fact that he had allowed Cordelia's words to get to him. "Ami has found a date for the Ritual," Giles explained as he adjusted his glasses, "Or at least, she is correlating it for us -- on that monstrous machine -- as we speak." "Oh." The small, soft remark came from the young woman as she stared at the screen. She swallowed and pushed the chair back from the desk. "So, that's it." Doyle lifted an eyebrow, "You gonna share with the rest of us, lass?" "Yeah, what is all this?" Cordelia peered at the screen, wrinkling her nose in confusion. "It just looks like a bunch of dots and dates to me. I can't make sense of it at all." "It's a star chart," Ami supplied, her eyes still focused on the computer screen. Angel wondered if he was the only one unnerved by the slight quiver in her voice. A quick glance around the office -- particularly in the direction of her friend Adam -- told him that he wasn't alone. "Can you read it at all?" Giles inquired. "Tell us what it says?" "Oh, I can read it," Ami raised her head, her eyes meeting those of the former Watcher. Angel could only think of one way to describe those eyes -- haunted. "I can read it perfectly well." "Ami?" The prompting came from Adam. The young man made no attempt to hide his concern for her, moving quickly towards the desk. "Tomorrow night," Ami pronounced. "Tomorrow night at ten o' clock." "Eew, that's so not good." For once, Angel actually agreed with Cordelia. *** End of Chapter Sixteen ******** Michele B. Author, Archivist & Webmistress Jagged Edge Fan Fiction Archive http://www.jaggededge.pair.com ******** ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "BUMBARGER,MICHELLE" Subject: TPFICT: A Union of Souls (18/27) Date: 11 Jan 2000 19:43:05 -0500 A Union of Souls (18/27) An Angel/New Series Tomorrow People Crossover by Michele Mason Bumbarger Chapter Seventeen Ami watched the commotion around her, utterly amazed by the fact that strangers were going through so much trouble to protect her from an unseen, albeit deadly enemy. She was to stay at Angel's tonight, where the vampire and his friends could keep an eye on things and protect her if Giselle and Cordovan's forces came looking for her. The decision to remain here, and the battle to make it so, had been hard fought. Adam confided to her, telepathically, that he would feel better if she was at the Ship. Ami admitted that she too would feel better with the protection of the Spaceship. But there was no way to explain the Ship to their new allies, and even in light of everything that was going on and everything they had learned, they weren't ready to reveal the Ship or the island, or even the existence of additional Tomorrow People. Yet another reason that Ami had opted to remain in Angel's basement apartment - the thought of drawing the others in was one that she didn't want to contemplate for long. It was disturbing enough knowing that Giselle had been inside her head and quite possibly knew what Ami was. She didn't want to consider what would happen if the woman found out about the others. Looking around her, Ami tried her hardest to stay out of the way while Angel and Rupert worked to make the place secure. After learning that the name the man had been introduced under was a surname and not a first name, it became difficult for Ami to address him without tacking the "Mister" in front of his name. He had frowned and gazed at her oddly each time she said it and had finally insisted that she call him "Rupert" - apparently, Mr. Giles was something he wasn't accustomed to hearing. Watching them, it became quickly clear to her that the men - if a vampire could be called a man - worked together often and well. Even the Irishman pitched in after returning from making certain that Cordelia reached home safely. From the looks Angel had given the man upon his departure and return, Ami got the feeling that his interest in the secretary went a bit beyond simply seeing to her safety. The only person - or creature - missing was Whistler. The demon said he was going fishing for more information and would be back in the morning. He had actually tried to slip out unnoticed, but Angel had cornered him. The two had spoken in low, agitated voices before the vampire allowed the demon to leave; Angel hadn't looked very happy to see him gone. "You know, Angel, this would be so much simpler if you weren't a vampire," Doyle called out as he pulled a chain tightly through a grate that led to the sewers. "How's that?" Angel did not look away from the elaborate trip wire trap that he and Rupert were rigging across the freight elevator. "The whole invitation thing. You wouldn't have to worry about Cordovan's vamps because they couldn't get in without an invitation. So, we wouldn't have to be locking this place down like it's Alcatraz." "It's not Cordovan's vampires that I'm worried about," Angel returned, the edge to his voice giving Ami chills. Chills enough that she decided not to ask what forces he *was* worried about. "Invitation?" Adam looked up from helping Doyle wind the chain. "You mean, it's true?" "What's true?" Doyle prompted. "Well in Dracula, Lucy had to accept Dracula and invite him in," Ami supplied the answer, her eyes briefly flickering towards Angel and then back to the Irishman. "Vampires need an invitation?" Looking from Ami to Adam, Doyle gave them a half-smile. "You two don't know a lot about vampires, do you?" Ami sat on the sofa with a shrug. "Only what I've read in books." "Fiction, fantasy," Angel quipped from where he stood listening. "What you read in books is about as real as the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy." "Oh, go ahead then," Doyle remarked, "Burst her happy, safe bubble. Don't you know that people like to feel safe by building their own realities? Haven't you learned anything in two hundred years?" "Yeah. Work alone." "Ha ha, aren't you funny." Doyle checked the chain by giving it a hard yank and stood. When he looked at Ami again, however, he was a study in seriousness. "As much as I would have found a better way of breaking it to you, Angel is right. The books don't really have all the facts." "The books don't have most of the facts. They're the products of the imaginations of hack writers and Hollywood merchandising, full of half-truths and romanticism. There's nothing romantic about vampires," Angel entered the living area where they stood, his dark eyes darting to the grate, "Is that secure?" "As secure as it's going to get," was Doyle's response. Angel gave him a worried look and Doyle hurried on, "Trust me, Angel, nothing is gettin' in that way." "You're a vampire," Adam pointed out, following on the thread of Angel's comment. Angel met Adam's eyes and for a moment, Ami thought that he wasn't going to respond. When he did, his words were quiet, but somehow deadly. "Exactly my point." "Oh come on," Doyle shoved his hands in his pockets, rocking on his heels. "I'll bet that you crossed paths with Anne Rice sometime. She had to model Louis after you -- all that angstin' and broodin' --" Ami couldn't see Angel's face as his head swung to look at the Irishman, but she imagined the look that he gave Doyle was not very friendly. The Irishman immediately held up his hands in defense, "I'll say no more. Bad topic." "Um, gentlemen?" Rupert's voice came from the next room, "I could use a hand in here, please?" The three men exchanged a glance and headed in that direction. Only Angel was detained, as Ami's hand tentatively reached out and tugged his shirt sleeve. He stopped, an unasked question in his eyes as he looked down at her. "Tell me about vampires, then," Ami spoke softly, not sure if she was treading on personal territory and asking a question that shouldn't be asked. Angel visibly flinched, a flash of sorrow and pain darting across his face and coloring his handsome features. Whatever the stories had gotten wrong about vampires, they certainly hadn't lied about them being beautiful. Somehow, the deep sorrow she saw in the depths of his eyes made him all the more beautiful. And perhaps, all the more dangerous, a little voice cautioned her. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't--" "No, that's fine," Angel nodded. He gave a glance around the corner, and evidently seeing that everything was under control, motioned towards the kitchen area. "I'm going to put on some tea. Do you drink tea?" Ami nodded, trailing towards the kitchen table where she had been seated earlier when the entire night began to unravel. She watched Angel as he filled the tea kettle and set it to a low flame on the stove. "I'd offer you something else, but --" Angel leaned against the counter, folding his arms across his chest, "I don't have anything. I don't eat." He seemed to offer the last as both an apology and an explanation. "Right," Ami rubbed her hands nervously on her pants legs. She felt briefly out of sorts with this man -- this vampire who appeared as normal and human as the next person. He wasn't what she expected for a vampire, but then again what did one expect in a vampire? If the books were wrong, what were vampires really like? "You--" she stopped abruptly, not willing to finish the thought she was having. At least not aloud. You bite, were the words that lurked in the back of her brain. "Not humans," Angel said almost at once. "What?" "You were going to say that I bite, or feed," Angel's eyes slid away from hers and again she saw the unmeasurable pain etched in his features. However, it faded and dulled a bit when he returned his gaze to hers. "I don't feed from humans. I haven't in --" This time, she actually felt the sharp bite of sorrow that radiated from him as he stumbled and swallowed, "I don't feed from humans." "But you drink blood?" Ami felt her stomach clench as she said the words. It brought to mind images she would rather not have reflected on. For one moment, her mind taunted her with the picture of Angel, canines nearly the length of his chin, blood dripping from his face. She forcefully pushed the picture aside with a barely repressed shudder. "Animal. Butcher shops. It's not that hard to find other sources," Angel said. "Do all vampires --" "No," Angel cut off her question before she could fully phrase it. His tone became sharper, his eyes hard and cold. "Vampires are ruthless, predatory killers. Mortals are here for their pleasure and this world is their playground. Forget everything that you ever read in any book. It's wrong. There is no sweet seduction, no magic, no allure. A vampire would snap your neck in a minute and enjoy the sound of the bone cracking." Ami stood so quickly, the chair scrapped loudly against the floor. The look in his eyes, the sound of his voice, cut her to the bone and she suddenly felt very, very afraid. "And I'm supposed to trust you?" "I'm different." "Because you feed from animals instead of humans, is that all?" "No," Angel's voice softened, and he looked like the caged animal that she felt like. He took a breath and released it, "Because I have a soul." "What?" "Vampires don't have souls." Ami waited. Certainly he didn't expect to leave it at just that. Looking away from her, Angel fixed his eyes on some point on the countertop. "When a person becomes a vampire, they die. Not just physically, but spiritually. The soul leaves the body. It's gone. In its place is a demon. A demon that has possession of all that person's memories and knowledge. A demon animating a body. No trace of humanity or anything resembling humanity is left." "Why are you different?" "I'm cursed." He lifted his head, a somewhat bitter half-grin on his face. "I was one of the most feared vampires in Europe, but then I crossed a tribe of Romany gypsies. I killed one of theirs and my punishment -- my punishment is a gypsy curse -- my soul. So that everyday, I have to live with the knowledge and guilt of every evil act I ever committed. And I do." "So . . . " Ami paused trying to make sense of his words, "So, you're not a demon?" "I'm both. There's a demon inside of me, but I have a soul too. It's a constant battle, a constant reminder of what I was -- and what I can be." "You really are seeking redemption," Ami murmured under her breath, recalling their earlier conversation when she had demanded that he tell her what he was. She studied him for a heartbeat, sinking back into her chair before pressing on. "How will you know when you've found it?" The question hung between them, vampire and telepath, while he appeared to consider it. The silence was only broken by the whistling of the tea kettle and it was only then that Angel nodded in her direction before turning his attention to the whistling kettle. His words drifted to ears, so softly she would spend the rest of the night wondering if he truly spoke them or if she was picking up his thoughts. "I don't know if I ever will." *** End of Chapter Seventeen ******** Michele B. Author, Archivist & Webmistress Jagged Edge Fan Fiction Archive http://www.jaggededge.pair.com ******** ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "BUMBARGER,MICHELLE" Subject: TPFICT: A Union of Souls (19/27) Date: 12 Jan 2000 11:28:20 -0500 A Union of Souls An Angel/New Series Tomorrow People Crossover by Michele Mason Bumbarger Chapter Eighteen They had survived the night. Angel found that less than comforting. He, Giles and Doyle had been up most of the night talking -- and waiting. They were waiting for anything. Waiting for the inevitable vampire army to descend upon them. Waiting to be hit with waves of inexplicable and powerful magick. But none of that had happened. Nothing at all had happened. Things were too calm for Angel to feel comforted or relaxed by it. "The calm before the storm," Giles muttered over a cup of coffee that had not been prepared by Cordelia. He checked his watch for what had to be the tenth time in less than five minutes if Angel counted correctly. "If this -- Giselle -- intends on casting the spell tonight, they will have to move soon." "Unless Ami isn't their target," Angel leaned against the file cabinet, taking a sip from his cup of coffee. Doyle looked questioningly at him, and he gave the Irishman a shrug. "I know, wishful thinking." "Perhaps not." Setting his mug of coffee on the desktop, Giles leaned forward. "What precisely was your vision of Ami, Doyle? Can you give us anything specific, anything that might point us in the right direction? Or steer us away from the wrong one at the very least." "I saw her. At Indigo Club. And I knew her name." Giles frowned at him with obvious disappointment and disbelief. "That's all?" Doyle shrugged. "I don't understand them, the visions. I just use what they give me. It's all I can do." "You would think that if the Powers That Be put you here to help Angel, they could be a little less cryptic," Giles growled into his coffee. Doyle gave the man a lopsided grin, "Tell me about it." Angel noticed Adam first. A part of him had registered the sounds of the young man's footsteps climbing the stairs, and had taken note of the peculiar energy signature that seemed to surround both he and Ami. He looked up expectantly as the young man entered the office. Adam paused before speaking, his dark eyes skipping from one individual to the next, but starting and stopping with Angel. "Whistler isn't back yet." "You're a sharp kid," Doyle quipped. Angel tried to make eye contact and warn Doyle away from the banter, but the half-demon avoided his gaze. Angel couldn't help but feel that it was on purpose. "No, he's not back. And I wouldn't hold my breath expecting him back anytime soon. As far as he's concerned, he did his part and he's probably halfway to New York by now." Angel shook his head. "He'll be back." "I'm the one with the visions remember?" "Yes, but Whistler knows more than he's telling us. He always holds a little back," Angel frowned, remembering how near to impossible it had been to get any information out of the demon when he had first encountered him. Whistler may have been on the side of good, but he had the most unusual ways of demonstrating these things. "I was hoping that he'd found some more information," Adam explained. "When he does, he'll be back," Angel promised the young man, "But don't count on him sharing it." "How is Ami this morning, Adam?" Giles directed his words at the young man who still stood stiffly in the doorway. "She's still asleep," Adam's eyes slid from his intense scrutiny of Angel long enough to acknowledge the older man before sliding back again. Shadows flickered in those dark eyes, shadows that Angel had a great deal of experience reading. He didn't trust Angel; he didn't truly trust any of them, but that lack of trust would probably be his saving grace. Those who trusted too much and too instinctively often got themselves killed in this world. As long as his mistrust didn't interfere when it came time to face down Cordovan and Giselle, Angel would allow him that mistrust. "She didn't really sleep well last night," Adam was continuing to speak, mostly to Giles and Doyle. He rubbed his neck, "She kept having bad dreams." "Under the circumstances that's not surprising." "You slept in that armchair by her bed all night, didn't you?" Doyle asked pointedly. "I told you that you would get a stiff neck. Maybe next time you'll listen to me." "I hope there isn't a next time." Adam responded simply, without mirth or bitterness. A simple statement of fact. One that Angel had to agree with. The door swinging inward prevented anyone from responding to Adam's remark as all heads turned to see who the new arrival was. Cordelia raised her eyebrows at the sight of the four of them staring first anxiously, and then with mild disappointment in her direction. "Expecting someone else?" Giles gave her an apologetic half-smile. "I'm sorry Cordelia, but I think we were all expecting -- or rather hoping for Whistler." "So glad to disappoint you," Cordelia remarked. "I dress way better than that. I'm prettier too." Doyle smiled, lifting his cup of coffee in her direction. "That you are, Princess. Especially this morning. I've always loved that color on you. It makes your eyes sparkle." She blinked at him, then turned her eyes to Angel, practically pleading. "Will you get him under control all ready?" Then, looking around again, she tilted her head inquiringly. "Where is she?" "She?" With a flair and overdramatization that only Cordelia Chase could manage, she sighed in exasperation and rolled her eyes. "Ami. Remember the girl that was here last night so that she could be protected from the evil bo-ma-witch who wants to steal her soul? You know," Cordelia focused her attention on Adam, "your girlfriend." Angel was surprised to see the young man pale, nearly choking where he stood. "She's not my girlfriend." "Whatever," Cordelia shrugged with a toss of her head. "Anyway, I brought her a change of clothes. I understand that, as men, you are more than willing to wear the same yucky, crudy, smelly clothes for days on end, but women are more delicate than that. I even brought a portable mirror because some undead people who shall remain unnamed, don't believe in them." Her words were greeted with silence. Looking from Doyle to Giles, Angel realized that they were as stunned as he by Cordelia's unforced and unsolicited thoughtfulness. Los Angeles really was changing her -- sometimes Angel didn't realize quite how much. "She's downstairs, still," Adam spoke up, breaking the silence. "She was sleeping when I left her." The look which Cordelia gave the young man was only a few steps below patronizing. "She's not your girlfriend? Right." Then, spinning on her heel, she headed towards the freight elevator, her heels clicking loudly on the tiled floor. Adam stared after her for a moment, then turned his attention to the others in the office. "She's--" "Quite the character, our dear Cordelia," Doyle nodded enthusiastically, his face taking on that sickening sweet dream smile that it often did when he was falling into one of his moments of Cordelia worship. "That's why we keep her around." "Well," Angel stared at Doyle over the rim of his coffee mug, "It's certainly not for the typing or the filing." "Or the coffee," Giles added. They passed the next few minutes in a comfortable silence, each lost in his own thoughts. It was Doyle who finally spoke up, breaking the spell. "So, what's the plan?" "We keep an eye out," Angel put his empty coffee cup aside. "If they're going to strike they're going to strike soon. We need to be ready." "Why do I get the feeling I'm going to ruin another good shirt?" "Doyle, you don't have any good shirts." Doyle opened his mouth to respond, but his words were cut off by the loud shrieking coming from the downstairs apartment. "Angel!" There was no mistaking Cordelia's panicked cry. An exchange of glances and the four men were on their feet, racing down the stairs as quickly as their legs could carry them. Angel felt the demon stir deep within, his body tensing in preparation for a fight. "Cordelia?" "What's wrong?" The starlet met them at the foot of the stairs, her earlier indifference and nonchalance replaced with worry and a strong fear that Angel could smell. "She's gone. Ami's gone." *** End of Chapter Eighteen ******** Michele B. Author, Archivist & Webmistress Jagged Edge Fan Fiction Archive http://www.jaggededge.pair.com ******** ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: AmyH3x4@aol.com Subject: TPFICT: Twins at Birth, Part 0/13 Date: 13 Jan 2000 16:16:56 EST Well, I'm finally getting my fan fiction up ^.^ I wrote this over the summer during my stay in Japan, as a remake of one my earlier, horrible stories (some of you might cringe to remember "TP vs. Biotec" - granted I was in 7th grade, but...). Eventually the fanfic turned out to be nothing like the original story (thank God ^.^), and I really enjoyed writing it. I do have a twins in my family, which might explain my fascination with them, but I am not one myself. And I hope people won't mind - the characters we all know and love done't make a big entrance until about Chapter 4, but I hope you can put up with the ones from my silly imagination ^.^ Note: As to the references to the Experimental Weapons Establishment, it's a big coincidence - I am not trying to connect the old and new series. It was a good name, so I used it. And there are only 11 chapters, but there is a Prologue and Epilogue. Disclaimer: The characters Ami Jackson, Megabyte Damon, Adam Newman, and General Damon do not belong to me; they belong to Roger Damon Price, Thames/Tetra Television, ITV and Nickelodeon, and are being used without permission (and without profit o'course). The other characters came completely from my imagination - if you feel compelled to use them for some strange reason, I really wouldn't mind (I would love and be-strongly-flattered to know why). BTW, I hope everyone likes it, and feedback is loved! Amy :) AmyH3x4@aol.com MeatballHead_Page@yahoo.com ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ http://www.cyhaus.com/Smoon/Smoon.htm - Sailor Moon http://www.cyhaus.com/tp/default.htm - Tomorrow People http://www.cyhaus.com/Camp/Jupiter/seiyuu.htm - Dub Seiyuu http://www.cyhaus.com/Camp/Jupiter/default.htm - Home Page http://www.cyhaus.com/Camp/Jupiter/trade.htm - Nifty Anime Trades ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Well, boo if ya want - ya know I'm right!" - Chris Rock ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "BUMBARGER,MICHELLE" Subject: TPFICT: A Union of Souls (Part 20/27) Date: 13 Jan 2000 16:24:55 -0500 A Union of Souls An Angel/New Series Tomorrow People Crossover by Michele Mason Bumbarger Chapter Nineteen There was no evidence of breaking and entering. There was no evidence of anything at all. Aside from the unmade bed, it would appear to the casual observer that a young college coed named Ami Jackson had never been in the apartment. It appeared as though she had vanished into thin air. Which, Angel realized as his attention fell on Adam, might not have been so very far from the truth. While Giles muttered with Doyle, checking and rechecking solidly locked doors and grates, the vampire approached the young man. He kept his voice low and quiet, but firm. "You know where she is, don't you?" Adam shook his head. He hesitated a moment before answering the question. "No, I don't." "I know you don't trust me, and I can't blame you for that. But I can't help her if you won't be honest with me. Where is she?" "I am being honest," something flashed in the Australian's eyes, a spark of anger mixed with something else that Angel couldn't quite identify. Worry or perhaps embarrassment. Maybe a little bit of both. He shifted, his attention focused on the far wall and for one long and unsettling moment Angel received the distinct impression that somehow the young man was not in the same room with him. The moment passed as quickly as it occurred however, and Adam looked at him again, releasing a heavy sigh. "I don't know where she is. But I know how she left -- and so do you." Angel blinked, ready to argue with Adam when the truth of the mortal's words sank in. Ami had told them things -- things that it had been clear that Adam hadn't wanted to reveal -- and while his mind had packed them away for later scrutiny, he hadn't forgotten them entirely. "You're telling me that she -- teleported -- out of here." "You still don't believe us." Adam shook his head and raked his hands through his hair. "You're a vampire, we're worried about a witch who casts black magick spells and you don't believe we can teleport." He spoke the words with a silent challenge in his eyes. "Point," Angel said softly. "Why would she leave?" "If I knew that, I would probably know where she is." "Have you two found something?" Giles approached the two of them, a hopeful note in his voice. Angel took a very unnecessary breath and released it. "Not really. Except that Ami left of her own free will." "I didn't say that," Adam objected. "She wouldn't. She was scared. She wanted to stay here. She didn't have a choice in leaving, I'm pretty sure about that." "Then you wouldn't mind sharin' with us how she got out of a couple of locked doors?" Doyle asked. Adam's eyes met Angel's, although he said nothing. The vampire could see the dilemma on the young man's face, could read the questions in his eyes and yet he remained impassive. If Adam didn't want to remind Giles and Doyle about the special skill that Ami claimed the both of them possessed, Angel would -- but he would allow Adam to make that decision first. He simply hoped that Adam realized that every moment wasted was a moment that Ami was slipping through their fingers -- and closer to Giselle. The former Watcher snapped his fingers. "Giselle." "Giles?" Angel turned inquisitively to the man, knowing that the full explanation had not yet been given. Unfortunately, Doyle lacked Angel's patience, and understanding, of Rupert Giles. "You think that Giselle got in here and we never noticed?" "Maybe it was Whistler," Cordelia chimed in, "He's not back. And I never trusted him." "No, no, no!" Giles held up his hands in frustration, looking from one face to another until he was certain that he had everyone's attention. "Think back to last night, everyone. Do you remember what we discussed? Do you remember what had Ami so intensely upset -- besides the dream about Angel." "Giselle," Adam whispered. "Yes, Giselle. What did she say? Giselle was in her head. We all agreed that it sounded like some form of hypnosis, and there is a very good possibility that that is precisely what Ami experienced. Giselle managed to plant a post-hypnotic suggestion inside Ami's head, and when the time was right, she activated it." Cordelia shivered. "Is that really possible?" Giles removed his glasses, nodding his agreement. "After living on the Hellmouth, Cordelia, I would say that we should believe that anything is possible." "So, let me get this straight," Doyle interrupted, "Giselle hypnotized Ami. So while we were upstairs havin' coffee, Ami was forced to leave. That still doesn't explain why all the doors are still locked. That's a little bit too creepy even for me, and I've seen my share of creepy." Giles removed his glasses, his focus narrowing to Adam. He studied the young man for a long moment, his voice thoughtful when he finally spoke. "She teleported, didn't she Adam?" "Tele-" Doyle began. "Yes, she teleported," Adam cut Doyle off with a nod, his words so quiet that Angel thought for a moment that he was the only one who heard the words of affirmation. However, a quick glance at Doyle and Cordelia, who stared at Adam as though he had sprouted a second head, told him that they had heard it as well. Giles nodded, tapping the arm of his glasses against his lip. "It makes sense. You're teleporters, and Giselle knows it. Therefore, we have to assume that it would have been a simple enough matter for a hypnotic suggestion to have been planted that would cause Ami to teleport when she was alone. "And at least we know she's only been gone a short time." "Doesn't matter," Adam shoved his hands in his pockets, his brow furrowing. Angel caught the faintest scent of fear coming from the young man. It wasn't strong, not yet, but there was no doubt that Adam was afraid -- afraid for Ami. "Teleportation is instaneous." "But we know that the spell can't be cast until nightfall," Angel reminded him, "That gives us some time." "Wait a second." Cordelia held up a hand, attracting their attention. "You really don't mean to tell me that you believe that they can really teleport or something? Come on, this is not Star Trek." "No, but having lived in Sunnydale, you've certainly seen things stranger," Giles pointed out. "You saw for yourself the evidence of telepathy when Buffy had her brief dalliance." "But that was different. That was Sunnydale. That was right up there with the Mayor turning into a giant demon thingy at graduation --" Cordelia stopped suddenly and drew a sharp breath. Abruptly, she turned to Angel. "Okay, so she teleported right into the belly of the beast. Go do your mysterious rescue thing that you do so well." "I was planning on it," Angel replied. "Wait, Angel man," Doyle intercepted his path as he headed for his weapons. "We've had this conversation already. You can't just go barging into Cordovan's fortress. He's got vampire armies and God only knows what else guarding that place. You have to go prepared or its suicide." "You have a better idea?" "Yeah," Doyle nodded and squared his shoulders. "Floor plans. We get the layout of the place. Call in some favors, find out everything we can about that place. Then we go in with guns blazing." "We?" "Um, Doyle, Angel is good at this," Cordelia said pointedly, "You'll just get your ass kicked." "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Princess." "Whatever the plan, we need to do it quickly," Giles returned his glasses to his face. "Every minute counts so we had better get started." Angel turned towards the stairs, his eyes falling on Adam who had fallen silent during their discussion. Again, he had that distant look on his face, the one that made Angel think that he was only physically in the same room. However, almost as if feeling the vampire's eyes on him, he looked up, his dark eyes shadowed with worry and a fear so strong that Angel could smell it. He nodded to Adam, his words a promise. "We'll find her, and we'll bring her back." *** End of Chapter Nineteen ******** Michele B. Author, Archivist & Webmistress Jagged Edge Fan Fiction Archive http://www.jaggededge.pair.com ******** ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: AmyH3x4@aol.com Subject: TPFICT: Re: Twins at Birth, Part 1/13 Date: 13 Jan 2000 16:30:06 EST Disclaimer: The characters Ami Jackson, Megabyte Damon, Adam Newman, and Gen= eral Damon do not belong to me; they belong to Roger Damon Price, Thames/Tet= ra Television, ITV and Nickelodeon, and are being used without permission (a= nd without profit o'course). The other characters came completely from my i= magination - if you feel compelled to use them for some strange reason, I re= ally wouldn't mind (I would love and be-strongly-flattered to know why). =20 [] =3D Thinking or telepathy (which go hand in hand I believe) Prologue Ami felt empty. She gazed out the tiny, plexiglass window of her cell. The weather was=20= beautiful, with a clear blue sky and just enough clouds to keep things inter= esting. She could almost hear the birds chirping in the tall pine trees, ev= en though her room was sound-proof. A squirrel might be in one of those tre= es... it was a little too early to store nuts for winter, so the squirrel wa= s probably stuffing itself obesely or on the lookout for a mate. Although A= mi couldn=92t see any, there might be a few dandelions scattered through the= grass, adding just enough color to keep nature from appearing dull. If she= were home, mountains would complete the backdrop; depending on the season,=20= they=92d add either green, orange, or white to the picturesque forest scene.= But whether coupled with her imagination or not, it was a beautiful day -=20= which angered her. In the movies, it was always dark and rainy over these types of houses.=20= Crows would surround the place, cawing ominiously, as clouds and darkness s= hadowed the top half of the building. So why wasn=92t it rainy here? [I mu= st be conditioned by society], she reasoned sarcastically. Ami really would= n=92t have minded if it rained every day. Somehow it would be a punishment=20= to those people who had locked her up for the past month. Those common, bla= ck-suited goons would look at the window one day and think, Damn, it=92s rai= ning again. Must be our fault. Ami giggled a little to herself, wondering if she was cracking up. She=20= also realized that, in the movies, the =93heroine=94 was always able to resi= st. No matter the torture, no matter the threats, they held out just long e= nough for their =93hero=94 to break in and rescue them. [That=92s probably=20= where I went wrong], Ami reasoned. She had talked; so her hero would never=20= come. =20 She had tried to resist, at first. Strapped down in that chair, under t= hat bright fluorescent light, she had clenched her teeth and promised hersel= f she wouldn=92t say a word. That didn=92t last really long, especially aft= er they started injecting those =93happy=94 drugs into her. But even those=20= questions weren=92t too bad; they were questions like =93What is your name,= =94 =93Where do you live,=94 etc. She had tried not to answer the =93Who ar= e your friends,=94 but even that came out eventually, as she gave a small li= st from her school (and _her_ name, given hesitantly). Then they had asked, =93Are any of your friends telepathic?=94 She immed= iately answered, =93No,=94 and an alarm sounded right behind her ear. =93That=92s the lie detector,=94 one of her interrogators, a nondescript= goon, told her blandly. Three of them surrounded her, but only one was doi= ng anything. The other two were probably there for decoration. =93Please an= swer the question correctly.=94 Ami clenched her teeth and turned away. She felt a prick in her arm. [T= hat=92s the third one], she thought bitterly. A wave of exhaustion suddenly= hit her, and her head drooped. =93Answer the question. Are any of your fri= ends telepathic?=94 The bright light suddenly strengthened; it felt like it=20= was frying her eyeballs. =93No...=94 She drawled weakly. An alarm sounded in her ear. She felt someone shaking her, which transformed itself into a monstrous=20= headache. =93Are any of your friends telepathic?=94 Ami just wanted to sleep. [Why won=92t they leave me alone], she though= t tiredly. =93Go away...=94 she slurred. She felt a hand on her chin, and i= mpossibly the light shone brighter. Her headache worsened. =93If you tell us which of your friends is telepathic, you can sleep,=94= a voice spoke loudly in her ear. [I really do want to sleep], Ami thought.= [Maybe I should just tell them.] An image appeared in her mind. Those same black-suited goons bringing _= her_ here, and strapping _her_ into one of these chairs, and asking _her_ th= e same questions. The idea depressed her so much, that it hurt much more th= an the bright light shining in her eyes, or the headache, tightening like a=20= knot in her mind. [I don=92t want her to come here], she thought weakly. [She=92s strong. She=92ll be okay.] [No... this sucks too much to put her through.] =93Are any of your friends telepathic?=94 =93No...=94 [Yes.] The shaking worsened; the light got brighter; and that voice kept talkin= g. [Just tell them], it whispered softly. [She=92ll be okay.] =93No.=94 [She shouldn=92t come here. It=92s too painful.] [Yes, she should. She was meant to come here. It=92s her destiny.] =93Are any of your friends telepathic?=94 [Yes.] [I know, but...] [She=92s your friend, isn=92t she? So won=92t she forgive you?] [Yes... Kat would... but I wouldn=92t forgive myself.] Suddenly the bright light went dead, and the shaking stopped. [Did I sa= y that outloud?] She thought in terror, before plunging into unconsciousness= . When she woke up, she was in a different cell. Instead of the common pu= nishment cell, where she went for not cooperating, she was in a room that l= ooked like it had been cut out of a hotel. It even had a window.=20 [I told them], she thought despairingly. [I told them about Kat.] Ami wept. Although she had promised herself that she would never cry, a= nd show _them_ weakness, she couldn=92t stop herself. She wanted to crawl u= nder a rock and die, to never see Kat=92s face again. That smiling face wou= ld forgive her, like any friend would do. But Ami would never forgive herse= lf. [It isn=92t fair], Ami decided later on. [It should rain everyday here,=20= because the people here deserve it.] [And so do I.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: AmyH3x4@aol.com Subject: TPFICT: Twins at Birth, Part 2/13 Date: 13 Jan 2000 16:51:50 EST Disclaimer: The characters Ami Jackson, Megabyte Damon, Adam Newman, and Gen= eral Damon do not belong to me; they belong to Roger Damon Price, Thames/Tet= ra Television, ITV and Nickelodeon, and are being used without permission (a= nd without profit o'course). The other characters came completely from my i= magination - if you feel compelled to use them for some strange reason, I re= ally wouldn't mind (I would love and be-strongly-flattered to know why). =20 [] =3D Thinking or telepathy=20 <<<<>>>> =3D Whacked out dream sequence :) Chapter 1 The boy was of average height, maybe 5=929=94, with short, brown curls for h= air. He had a friendly, slightly messy look to him; his smile was lopsided=20= and his hair was a bit too ruffled. He was aware of her presence, because h= e made eye contact and gave her that lopsided smile. =93Hullo,=94 he said si= mply. =93Hi,=94 Kat replied, a bit shyly. =93My name=92s Katie, but you can ca= ll me Kat. What=92s your name?=94 He chuckled slightly. =93My name? Let=92s see... I believe it=92s Brian= .=94 =93You =91believe?=92=94 Kat asked. =93It=92s been a while since I=92ve talked with someone,=94 he explained= . Kat wasn=92t sure how that answered her question, but she finished, =93N= ice to meet you, Brian.=94 =93Come now, we don=92t have to be so formal,=94 he said, a bit exaspera= ted. Kat shrugged. =93Aren=92t you supposed to be polite if you don=92t know=20= someone?=94 <<<>>> Kat stared at the spot the two figures had occupied a second ago, her ey= es widened in surprise. She had remembered that scene from her youth a litt= le bit; but, like most of her memories from four years old, they had become=20= blurry and indistinct. That scene had been crystal clear and much more meani= ngful, now that she was fifteen. =93What was that?=94=20 =93This area is a mirror of your subconscious. Any prompting of your me= mories will be shown here,=94 Brian explained briefly, a troubled look on hi= s face. =20 Kat guessed the reason for his expression and smiled a bit, waving her a= rms in a it=92s-okay-it=92s-okay motion. =93Don=92t worry. My Mom lightened= up after...=94 <<<>>>=20 =93Umm... well...=94 Kat tried to regain her composure. =93She lightened= up... later on.=94 Brian stared at her for several seconds, then glanced down apologeticall= y. =93I=92m sorry, Kat. People of our kind are destined to have bad experie= nces. In some ways, these hardships force us to alienate ourselves from soc= iety, where we learn of our powers.=94 Kat gave the same confused expression that four-year-old Kat had given a= few moments ago. =93Our kind?=94 Brian smiled a bit. =93I think I=92m getting ahead of myself. The real=20= reason I came her was to warn you about Ami.=94 <<<>>> =93So that=92s her name, Ami?=94 Kat said excitedly, not waiting for a r= eply. =93Do you know where she is? What happened there? Is she okay?=94 Th= e questions bubbled out excitedly, but her smile faded as she noticed Brian= =92s grim expression. =93She=92s been taken by the Experimental Weapons Establishment, where t= hey=92ve held her for the past month. Using drugs, they managed to extract=20= information from her about you.=94 Brian had turned away and wasn=92t lookin= g at her. Kat=92s brow furrowed. =93What information? And what did they want with= her?=94 Brian shook his head slowly. =93I can=92t tell you anything now, but I c= an say that you and Ami have special abilities that far surpass those of nor= mal human beings. The EWS would like to exploit these powers, which is why=20= they took Ami.=94 He turned to her, finishing, =93And is why they are coming= for you now.=94 Kat turned pale. =93Is this a joke?=94 Brian shook his head again, and Kat instinctively knew that he wasn=92t=20= lying. They stared at each other for several seconds, and then Kat sat down= suddenly. =93I feel sick,=94 she said dully. =93I wish this was some nightm= are or something, but...=94 =93You know it=92s true. Because it explains what you=92ve known your e= ntire life,=94 Brian finished, catching her gaze. He was right again, she r= ealized. He had taken the words out of her mouth. =93Don=92t worry,=94 he s= aid simply, giving a small, sad smile. This time he was the one fading into= nothingness. =93You won=92t be alone.=94 ************* Amy :) AmyH3x4@aol.com MeatballHead_Page@yahoo.com ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ http://www.cyhaus.com/Smoon/Smoon.htm - Sailor Moon http://www.cyhaus.com/tp/default.htm - Tomorrow People http://www.cyhaus.com/Camp/Jupiter/seiyuu.htm - Dub Seiyuu http://www.cyhaus.com/Camp/Jupiter/default.htm - Home Page http://www.cyhaus.com/Camp/Jupiter/trade.htm - Nifty Anime Trades ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Well, boo if ya want - ya know I'm right!" - Chris Rock ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: AmyH3x4@aol.com Subject: TPFICT: Re: Twins at Birth, Part 1/13 Date: 13 Jan 2000 16:30:06 EST Disclaimer: The characters Ami Jackson, Megabyte Damon, Adam Newman, and Gen= eral Damon do not belong to me; they belong to Roger Damon Price, Thames/Tet= ra Television, ITV and Nickelodeon, and are being used without permission (a= nd without profit o'course). The other characters came completely from my i= magination - if you feel compelled to use them for some strange reason, I re= ally wouldn't mind (I would love and be-strongly-flattered to know why). =20 [] =3D Thinking or telepathy (which go hand in hand I believe) Prologue Ami felt empty. She gazed out the tiny, plexiglass window of her cell. The weather was=20= beautiful, with a clear blue sky and just enough clouds to keep things inter= esting. She could almost hear the birds chirping in the tall pine trees, ev= en though her room was sound-proof. A squirrel might be in one of those tre= es... it was a little too early to store nuts for winter, so the squirrel wa= s probably stuffing itself obesely or on the lookout for a mate. Although A= mi couldn=92t see any, there might be a few dandelions scattered through the= grass, adding just enough color to keep nature from appearing dull. If she= were home, mountains would complete the backdrop; depending on the season,=20= they=92d add either green, orange, or white to the picturesque forest scene.= But whether coupled with her imagination or not, it was a beautiful day -=20= which angered her. In the movies, it was always dark and rainy over these types of houses.=20= Crows would surround the place, cawing ominiously, as clouds and darkness s= hadowed the top half of the building. So why wasn=92t it rainy here? [I mu= st be conditioned by society], she reasoned sarcastically. Ami really would= n=92t have minded if it rained every day. Somehow it would be a punishment=20= to those people who had locked her up for the past month. Those common, bla= ck-suited goons would look at the window one day and think, Damn, it=92s rai= ning again. Must be our fault. Ami giggled a little to herself, wondering if she was cracking up. She=20= also realized that, in the movies, the =93heroine=94 was always able to resi= st. No matter the torture, no matter the threats, they held out just long e= nough for their =93hero=94 to break in and rescue them. [That=92s probably=20= where I went wrong], Ami reasoned. She had talked; so her hero would never=20= come. =20 She had tried to resist, at first. Strapped down in that chair, under t= hat bright fluorescent light, she had clenched her teeth and promised hersel= f she wouldn=92t say a word. That didn=92t last really long, especially aft= er they started injecting those =93happy=94 drugs into her. But even those=20= questions weren=92t too bad; they were questions like =93What is your name,= =94 =93Where do you live,=94 etc. She had tried not to answer the =93Who ar= e your friends,=94 but even that came out eventually, as she gave a small li= st from her school (and _her_ name, given hesitantly). Then they had asked, =93Are any of your friends telepathic?=94 She immed= iately answered, =93No,=94 and an alarm sounded right behind her ear. =93That=92s the lie detector,=94 one of her interrogators, a nondescript= goon, told her blandly. Three of them surrounded her, but only one was doi= ng anything. The other two were probably there for decoration. =93Please an= swer the question correctly.=94 Ami clenched her teeth and turned away. She felt a prick in her arm. [T= hat=92s the third one], she thought bitterly. A wave of exhaustion suddenly= hit her, and her head drooped. =93Answer the question. Are any of your fri= ends telepathic?=94 The bright light suddenly strengthened; it felt like it=20= was frying her eyeballs. =93No...=94 She drawled weakly. An alarm sounded in her ear. She felt someone shaking her, which transformed itself into a monstrous=20= headache. =93Are any of your friends telepathic?=94 Ami just wanted to sleep. [Why won=92t they leave me alone], she though= t tiredly. =93Go away...=94 she slurred. She felt a hand on her chin, and i= mpossibly the light shone brighter. Her headache worsened. =93If you tell us which of your friends is telepathic, you can sleep,=94= a voice spoke loudly in her ear. [I really do want to sleep], Ami thought.= [Maybe I should just tell them.] An image appeared in her mind. Those same black-suited goons bringing _= her_ here, and strapping _her_ into one of these chairs, and asking _her_ th= e same questions. The idea depressed her so much, that it hurt much more th= an the bright light shining in her eyes, or the headache, tightening like a=20= knot in her mind. [I don=92t want her to come here], she thought weakly. [She=92s strong. She=92ll be okay.] [No... this sucks too much to put her through.] =93Are any of your friends telepathic?=94 =93No...=94 [Yes.] The shaking worsened; the light got brighter; and that voice kept talkin= g. [Just tell them], it whispered softly. [She=92ll be okay.] =93No.=94 [She shouldn=92t come here. It=92s too painful.] [Yes, she should. She was meant to come here. It=92s her destiny.] =93Are any of your friends telepathic?=94 [Yes.] [I know, but...] [She=92s your friend, isn=92t she? So won=92t she forgive you?] [Yes... Kat would... but I wouldn=92t forgive myself.] Suddenly the bright light went dead, and the shaking stopped. [Did I sa= y that outloud?] She thought in terror, before plunging into unconsciousness= . When she woke up, she was in a different cell. Instead of the common pu= nishment cell, where she went for not cooperating, she was in a room that l= ooked like it had been cut out of a hotel. It even had a window.=20 [I told them], she thought despairingly. [I told them about Kat.] Ami wept. Although she had promised herself that she would never cry, a= nd show _them_ weakness, she couldn=92t stop herself. She wanted to crawl u= nder a rock and die, to never see Kat=92s face again. That smiling face wou= ld forgive her, like any friend would do. But Ami would never forgive herse= lf. [It isn=92t fair], Ami decided later on. [It should rain everyday here,=20= because the people here deserve it.] [And so do I.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "BUMBARGER,MICHELLE" Subject: TPFICT: A Union of Souls (21/27) Date: 14 Jan 2000 18:08:54 -0500 Yes, it's another cliffhanger. You have been warned. So, sue me. I'm evil. I'll admit it. Now, on with the story. . . ************* A Union of Souls (21/27) An Angel/New Series Tomorrow People Crossover By Michele Mason Bumbarger Chapter Twenty Every now and then, Rupert Giles would glance up from his preparations and stare in amazement at Cordelia Chase. He would then blink his eyes to see if the illusion vanished, only to have it remain firmly and solidly where it was. It was remarkable. The girl that he had come to know as a whining, self-absorbed fashion plate and debutante was actually useful. Not simply helping with the research type of useful; but truly useful enough to be an asset to Angel and Doyle. The chips were down, to quote an American colloquialism, and Cordelia jumped in to do her part more readily than she ever had in Sunnydale. "I'm not saying it isn't convenient," Cordelia protested as she and Adam spread a set of 'borrowed' city blue prints across Angel's kitchen table. "It was just -- weird." She looked up, her eyes focused on the Australian. "Of course, it could come in handy for all those big one-day Christmas sales." With a faint smile, Rupert shook his head. Helpful or no, it was comforting to see that on some level she was still Cordelia Chase, cheerleader and May Queen. For the first time since their preparations had begun, a half-smile touched Adam's lips. "That's not the first time I've heard that sentiment." "Well, do you realize how much shopping can be done if you can do that little teleporty trick? My God, the number of shoes alone --" "Cordelia," Rupert interjected as he approached to look at the blueprints. "Why don't you focus a bit more attention on those blueprints than on the prospects of supporting the capitalist society single-handedly by teleporting to every Neiman-Marcus from here to New York." She stared at him as though he had just spoken a foreign language, and he realized too late that perhaps he had. "Read one of these? You've got to be kidding. I think that Angel must navigate by sense of smell, because these things are unreadable." She paused, placing a paperweight on a corner that continued to curl up. "Besides, I did my part. I played dumb-girlfriend while Adam beamed himself to wherever to get them. I even got groped by the ugliest security guard I've ever seen. And then he had the nerve to ask for my phone number." Cordelia shuddered, her revulsion with the prospect completely apparent. "I can read 'em," Doyle informed them, crossing to the table. He checked and re-checked the crossbow he was carrying, before setting it gently on the countertop. His blue eyes moved across the blueprints, and after a moment he looked up, his eyes going directly to Angel. "I can get us there. Luckily it's going to be after sunset, or you might find yourself gettin' a bit of a tan. Looks like our boy has sealed off most of the utility and sewer tunnels near his estate. We'll get inside the gates, but that's about all." The vampire nodded, stretching his arms to his sides. Rupert blinked in surprise as a stake shot from the sleeve of each arm and then retracted. "I'd expected as much." "That's quite an impressive -- contraption -- you have there, Angel." "Thank you." Angel looked up, his face clearly uncomfortable, and averted his eyes quickly. "I made it. It comes in handy." "Handy! I'll say!" Cordelia piped up, "You should see him use that thing. Two vamps for the price of one." "You're taking a lot of weapons," Adam noted quietly. Turning, Rupert noticed the young man's eyes moving guardedly from Angel to Doyle and finally to rest on the crossbow that Rupert himself was fiddling with. Doyle looked away from the blueprints, "Well, this isn't exactly a trip to Disneyland, Adam. We want to get your girlfriend back, we have to go in there with both guns blazing." "If I understand what Angel, Doyle and Cordelia have explained to us," Rupert lowered the crossbow, focusing his full attention on Adam, "This won't be easy at all. We shall be going up against a security force of vampires and demons, all of whom will be doing everything in their power to see to it that we not become a threat. They won't be open for negotiations, Adam." "It just seems -- strong. Like overkill." Doyle chuckled. "Well, let's hope it's overkill. It means we'll get our arses out in one piece." To say that the look Adam threw the Irishman was one of disgust and abject horror would have been a mild understatement. "Doesn't it bother you? Killing?" "It's not like they're killing real people or anything. I mean they're just demons and vampires." Cordelia paused, paled slightly and gave a quick glance at Angel and Doyle. "Well, they're just evil demons and vampires. Not like Angel and Doyle. They're on our side." Adam's jaw almost dropped. He blinked at Doyle. "You're a -- a demon?" The half-demon glared at the back of Cordelia's head. "Half. My mother was human." "Anyway," Cordelia gave a dismissive flick of her wrist, "It doesn't matter. They're going in there to rescue Ami and kill all the evil things that interfere with them. And it's not that bad really. Vampires just kind of turn into nice little piles of dust." Adam stared at her for a moment, then his eyes wandered the room again, revulsion and disgust apparent each time he saw a weapon of some sort. "There should be a better way. I should just be able to teleport in there and get her out." "But you can't." Angel dropped a duffel bag on the floor in front of Rupert. "You said you can't sense her." To the former Watcher he added, "I've put the Kelsior in there." "A little magick in our arsenal certainly can't hurt," Rupert nodded, pushing his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. He folded his arms and leaned against the back of the arm chair, his mind replaying what he knew about Adam and Ami, either implied or inferred. "You can't kill." "Well," Doyle said, "I don't like killin' but--" "No, Doyle, you misunderstand my words. No death-blood may taint," Rupert quoted the rough translation from the Enslavement spell, "Adam -- and Ami -- can not kill. Something inherent in their make-up, the same something that gives them their unbelievable powers, takes away the ability to destroy life. Am I correct?" Adam did or said nothing for a moment. Then, slowly he nodded. "How did you--" "The description from the Enslavement spell. Also, the fact that if you are truly as telepathic and empathic as you and Ami have intimated, then I imagine the simple act of killing alone, the emotional and psychic energies that would be released, would be overwhelming." "So, you can't kill." Angel clipped out the words. "Then you definitely are not coming with us." Rupert watched a flash of anger flicker in Adam's eyes. "Ami's my friend. I'm going to be there when we find her." "Be there and what?" Angel challenged. "Get yourself killed? I can't save your friend and watch *your* back. At least I know that Giles and Doyle can take care of themselves. I won't have your blood on my hands." "I can take care of myself. Just because I don't need to hold a weapon in my hand to do it, doesn't mean I can't." "You've never seen a vampire. You've never seen a demon. You have no idea what we're going up against." "I'm staring at a vampire right now." "Adam," Rupert touched the young man's arm, drawing his attention. "Yes, Angel is a vampire, true. But he is the exception and not the rule." "And I've seen Angel pissed off," Cordelia added, "You so do not want to go there. When he vamps out, it is not pretty." She ignored the dark look that Angel tossed in her direction, her face softening as she watched Adam. "I know you're worried. You have to be. Trust me, I grew up in Sunnydale and the minute I started hanging around with that lot of losers, worry became a fact of life. Like, every day was 'Gee, is this the day that some evil demon finally kills me?' Which is really bad, because worry causes wrinkles. And the one thing an actress does not need is crow's feet. I mean, have you ever seen those things?" "Cordelia," three voices chimed in at once. "What?" The brunette looked at them and then turned back to Adam with a shake of her head. "All I'm trying to say -- before I'm rudely interrupted again -- is that Angel knows what he's doing. He's been doing this a long time and if anyone can rescue Ami, and stop that witchy person from swallowing her soul or whatever, it's going to be him. You just have to trust him. "He's always come through for me." Rupert stared in amazement. Cordelia enthusiastically helping was unexpected; Cordelia heaping sincere praise and trust upon the vampire who had once lost his soul and tried to kill them all, was something that he thought would only be heralded along with the second coming of Christ. Miracles truly never ceased. "I can't just stand by and do nothing," Adam protested. Rupert Giles sighed. He could only see one way out of this dilemma. They were running out of time and they couldn't waste minutes arguing with Adam. "Adam, I'm sorry." The Australian turned to him, curiosity shining in his eyes. "About what?" Former Watcher and mild-mannered librarian never answered him. At least not in the vocal sense of the word. Instead, Adam's answer came in the form of a right-hook connecting squarely with his jaw, snapping his head back and rendering him immediately unconscious. Rupert was simply grateful for the quick reflexes of Angel and Doyle, as they caught the boy before he hit the floor. Rupert rubbed his knuckles. He hadn't punched anyone in a while. "About that." "Giles. You punched him!" Cordelia squeaked. "Yes, Cordelia, I did." He nodded to Angel and Doyle who were arranging Adam's body on the couch. "And I think we need to be gone before he --" His words froze in his throat as a pocket of empty air began to coalesce into a human form. With a flash of light, and a loud crackle that sounded like a bulb blowing magnified, where there had once been empty air, a red haired young man suddenly stood, staring around in worry and confusion. "Wakes up," Rupert finished wondering why he was quite unsurprised to see another teleporter appear. He idly wondered how many of them there were. "How many of you are there?" Doyle asked the question aloud. The redhead ignored them all, his attention falling on Adam. "What happened to him?" "Time." Rupert met Angel's eyes, and held up his watch. The vampire nodded, turning towards the sewer grate in the floor. "Cordelia, explain. We have to leave. Now." "Who are you people? And what happened to Adam?" The unidentified redhead was demanding as they filed into the sewers. "Right hook," was the last thing Rupert Giles heard. *** End of Chapter Twenty ******** Michele B. Author, Archivist & Webmistress Jagged Edge Fan Fiction Archive http://www.jaggededge.pair.com ******** ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "Michael Matott" Subject: TPFICT: message for old betas Date: 15 Jan 2000 22:05:46 PST Okay, this is what you get for not making a note of who agreed to beta for you. Back in May , I sent out a request for Beta's for a TP/Lost Boys/Buffy crossover. I've gotten one beta back (Thanks RubyRed), but I know there were other people who agreed to beta it. If those people who agreed to beta for me could get back to me, I'd appreciate it. I'd like to at least get the first couple of chapters back so I can work on revisions. I'd like to start posting it soon. Thanks. mike ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "BUMBARGER,MICHELLE" Subject: TPFICT: A Union of Souls (22/27) Date: 16 Jan 2000 16:26:28 -0500 A Union of Souls An Angel/New Series Tomorrow People Crossover By Michele Mason Bumbarger Chapter Twenty-One Megabyte Damon had spent the last twenty-four hours alternating between wearing a path in the carpet of his bedroom and the floor of the Spaceship. Several times he had been tempted to teleport over to LA, never mind what Adam said, but each time he had not done so because he knew that he had to trust Adam on this one. The eldest of the Tomorrow People wasn't one hundred percent clear on what was happening in Los Angeles, but he was one hundred percent clear on the fact that he didn't completely trust Ami's new 'allies.' He hadn't truly gotten fed up and annoyed with the situation until Adam revealed that Ami was missing. Their fellow Tomorrow Person had been under a hypnotic spell of some sort and simply teleported away. Even a mind-merge with all of the Tomorrow People at the Ship had not revealed her whereabouts. None of them liked it, not one little bit. So, they kept trying, even though they had all begun to expect that it was a lost cause. A sudden flash of shock and surprise from Adam, followed by his lapse into unconsciousness was the last straw. Megabyte ordered Kevin and Jade to stay away from LA - and was pleasantly surprised when they put up very little fuss - and headed to the last place where he had sensed Adam awake and well. He materialized in a dark and somber apartment occupied by five people. Four of them were awake; the fifth was Adam, who was reclined on the couch. They each stared at him, although he peripherally noticed that their surprise faded rather quickly. He didn't really care at that moment - even as he realized he could have just placed himself and the Tomorrow People in greater danger - he was concerned about Adam. "Wakes up," said the man with glasses, who spoke with a clipped and precise British accent. He picked up the duffel bag at his feet and was carrying a crossbow on his back. Crossbow? Megabyte filed the thought for later examination. "How many of you are there?" The question came from a short, dark-haired man with an Irish accent. Megabyte approached the couch and Adam. He'd try to figure out later why these people not only lacked surprise at his sudden appearance, but why they appeared not to care to question him at all. "What happened to him?" He asked sharply. "Time," said the Englishman. "Cordelia, explain. We have to leave now." "Who are you people?" Megabyte demanded, waving a hand around the room. "And what happened to Adam?" "Right hook," explained the last of the quartet, a brunette that Megabyte probably would have found attractive under any other circumstances. "What?" The sound of a grate in the floor slamming closed with a loud click caused him to jump and look around. His brain quickly supplied the details that he had only observed in the periphery. The three well-armed men had disappeared down that grate. "Right hook," the brunette repeated, turning towards the small kitchenette. "Giles decked him a good one so that he would stop trying to play all macho hero when he can't even kill a deer. You want some coffee or something?" "No, I don't want any coffee," Megabyte snapped. "I want to know who you are, why my friend was 'decked a good one' and what the hell is going on!" The brunette turned from reaching into an overhead cupboard, bringing a tin of coffee with her. She rolled her eyes in exasperation and began preparing a pot of coffee despite his refusal, "Will you relax all ready? He'll be perfectly fine when he wakes up. Well, he'll probably have an ugly bruise, but at least he'll be alive. Which he so would not have been if he'd gone to Cordovan's with Angel." Angel. That name again. The man that Ami had been dreaming about; the man that she and Adam had come to see. The private investigator. "Where is he?" "Cordovan?" The girl added water to the coffeepot. "He's got this great mansion over in Hollywood Hills - well, at least that's what I hear. I've never been there myself." "Angel." She looked up at him, the look on her face implying that she thought he was the biggest moron to ever walk the planet. "Haven't you been listening to a word I've said? Angel and Giles and Doyle went to Cordovan's to rescue your friend Ami before she gets her soul swallowed by some evil voodoo-magic-witch-craft-spell-thingy. Giles had to go all Van Dame on your cute Australian friend there because he actually wanted to go with them when a vampire would have probably taken him out in ten seconds tops." "A vam-" Megabyte shook his head, trying to make sense of the girl's words and failing miserably. He wondered if she even spoke English at all or if maybe *he* had also been unconscious and missed part of the conversation. "Oh, let me guess. You have Star Wars force-like powers, but you can't even take a minute to consider that maybe all that weird stuff in horror movies is real?" She rolled her eyes and shook her head, "I swear, some people don't believe in anything unless it hits them right over the head." Megabyte opened his mouth, ready to attempt to pull answers from the young woman again, when a low moan from Adam drew his attention. Adam's mental awareness tickled some distant corner of his mind, and he knew that his friend was waking up. "Adam?" Megabyte knelt by the sofa, helping to steady the older Tomorrow Person as he sat up, rubbing his left jaw. "Megabyte - what are you doing here?" He paused, wincing as though talking actually hurt and continued rubbing his jaw. "And what's going on? Did we get attacked?" "Well, you did. Sort of." The brunette descended on them, lowering herself gracefully to the arm of the sofa. She leaned over, ignoring Megabyte, while pressing an icepack to the side of Adam's face. He jumped, startled, but then accepted the icepack from her with no questions asked. "You were being really stupid-macho-guy and Giles had to go Jet Li on you. That is so going to be an ugly bruise." The look on Adam's face told Megabyte that his friend evidently didn't under stand the young brunette that well either. He looked to Megabyte, "Do you want to tell me what's going on and why you're here?" "He teleported in after Giles decked you," the young woman explained. "You know, it was really weird because I don't really think he surprised any of us. I guess if you've seen it once, you've seen it a million times and it just loses its novelty. Especially after living on the Hellmouth. And working for a vampire. Of course, that does remind me of Doyle's question." She paused, fixing her eyes totally on Adam and pretending like Megabyte didn't even exist. "How many of you are there?" "A few," Adam answered guardedly, holding the icepack to his face. "Megabyte, I told you to stay - behind." "Yeah, like that was going happen. First Ami goes missing and then you're unconscious-" "Megabyte?" The brunette chirped in. "Is that, like, your name?" Megabyte had to admit, he was beginning to get annoyed with her. She was pretty, shapely, and a real looker, but if she didn't stop talking soon, *he* might just deck *her.* "Yes, that's my name." "Oh sorry," Adam apologized, and indicated the brunette with a wave of his hand. "Cordelia, Megabyte. Megabyte, Cordelia. Now, will one of you tell me - coherently please - what happened while I was - out of it?" Megabyte opened his mouth to speak and was less than surprised when Cordelia - and she laughed about his name being Megabyte? - spoke up first. "Giles punched you." "I got that part." "It's not his fault you know. You were the one trying to be all superhero," Cordelia folded her arms across her chest. "They had to do something to stop you from going and becoming a vamp soup du jour. Or worse. I think that you're lucky that no one had time to load a tranq gun or you would still be sleeping like a baby. Giles and Angel take protecting the asses of the innocent very seriously." "How long have they been gone?" Adam held up his hand to forestall any questions that Megabyte had - and he had a lot of them. [Believe it or not, Megabyte, I actually understand what she's saying.] [You mean she's always like this?] [She has been since I met her.] Cordelia shrugged, her dark eyes darting to the clock on the far wall. "You weren't really out of it that long. Five, maybe ten minutes, tops." Her eyes widened and shot back to Adam, where they narrowed to dangerous slits. "And don't you even think about trying to follow them. They know what they are doing. You probably can't even squish a fly and you would only get in the way." Then to Megabyte's complete and total surprise, the young woman's demeanor went through a one hundred and eighty-degree change, her face and eyes softening completely as she leaned over and placed her hand on Adam's arm. "I told you, Angel knows what he's doing. This is like his calling in life to make up for all the evil and horrible things he did when he was - a soulless, evil, bad vampire." Of course, she was still talking about vampires which was beginning to give him a serious case of the creeps. Either someone here was delusional or he had just stepped into the Twilight Zone - or maybe both. "Vampire?" Megabyte said the word succinctly. Adam sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, his face was resigned. "You're not going to believe this, Megabyte, but Angel is a vampire. And there's a lot more to the world than we thought there was." *** End of Chapter Twenty-One ******** Michele B. Author, Archivist & Webmistress Jagged Edge Fan Fiction Archive http://www.jaggededge.pair.com ******** ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "Kasey Thompson" Subject: TPFICT: A Union of Souls 21 Date: 17 Jan 2000 10:47:35 EST Concerning Michelle Baumbarger's A Union of Souls 21 and 22: Isn't this the second time in a TPFIC story that Giles has knocked Adam out?! I think it was in another of her stories or maybe in the Tapestry universe. Care to explain? :-) Laughing, Kasey ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "BUMBARGER,MICHELLE" Subject: Re: TPFICT: A Union of Souls 21 Date: 17 Jan 2000 11:40:23 -0500 Um...this is my first Buffy-verse/TP Crossover so I don't think that would have been possible. You might be thinking about 'Understanding' which is a little vignette that I posted. It's an interlude in the story 'A Union of Souls,' and during it, Giles makes a reference to knocking out Adam versus knocking out Angel, but this is the first time the event actually takes place (during 'A Union of Souls'). Unless, of course, you somehow managed to get a copy of the much much older version of this story which was never written and never posted ;-). Or, maybe you're becoming precognitive. Maybe . . . you're breaking out! :) Michele ----- Original Message ----- Sent: Monday, January 17, 2000 10:47 AM | Concerning Michelle Baumbarger's A Union of Souls 21 and 22: | | Isn't this the second time in a TPFIC story that Giles has knocked Adam | out?! I think it was in another of her stories or maybe in the Tapestry | universe. Care to explain? :-) | | Laughing, Kasey | ______________________________________________________ | Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com | | | ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "Kasey Thompson" Subject: Re: TPFICT: A Union of Souls 21 Date: 17 Jan 2000 19:23:19 EST > >Um...this is my first Buffy-verse/TP Crossover so I don't think that would >have been possible. You might be thinking about 'Understanding' which is a >little vignette that I posted. It's an interlude in the story 'A Union of >Souls,' and during it, Giles makes a reference to knocking out Adam versus >knocking out Angel, but this is the first time the event actually takes >place (during 'A Union of Souls'). Yup. You're right. That's the one I was thinking of. Guess no one can accuse me of not reading the stories though! > >Unless, of course, you somehow managed to get a copy of the much much older >version of this story which was never written and never posted ;-). You got me. I snitched. Or, >maybe you're becoming precognitive. Maybe . . . you're breaking out! :) Hey, yeah. That's the *real* reason. This was just my way of letting everybody know.. Don't I wish! Kasey >| >| >| > > ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "BUMBARGER,MICHELLE" Subject: TPFICT: A Union of Souls (23b/27) Date: 18 Jan 2000 13:51:11 -0500 A Union of Souls (23b/27) An Angel/New Series Tomorrow People Crossover by Michele Mason Bumbarger Chapter Twenty-Two (cont'd) The scene that greeted him when he emerged from darkness into light was something reminiscent of a bad horror movie. Only, Rupert Giles realized that it was not a bad horror movie at all - this was real life. The room had been made into a casting chamber. Magickal glyphs and sigils covered the walls, the floors, the tall pillars. Some were black - done in charcoal, some were pastel - done in chalk, and some were deep reddish brown - done in blood. Some were protective, protection for the caster, Rupert recognized. A few were glowing white or blue, but so many more were glowing bright orange and red. In the very center of all of this, an altar had been created. Ami lay in the center of it, to all appearances dead. She was still, incredibly still, her hands folded neatly on her abdomen, her eyes open and fixed on some point that no one in the room could see. The only hint that she was alive was the faint and occasional rise of her chest beneath the sheet that covered her, the faint motions of her mouth as though she spoke to whatever it was she saw in her mind's eye. Magickal sigils were painted over all the parts of her body. Her forehead, her cheeks, her arms, her shoulders. The red sigils on - and around her - were glowing more brightly than any other in the room. The undercurrents of magick sweeping through the chamber were so strong that he had to take a moment, closing his eyes and whispering his own prayers of protection, to avoid being caught up and carried in the storm. When he opened his eyes again, he took in more details of the room, his Watcher trained eyes taking them in quickly. The spell-caster, Giselle, who would have struck him as a beautiful woman if he had not registered the darkness of her intentions, stood directly beside Ami's makeshift bed. She held an Orb of Thessulah in her faintly glowing hands, and her lips moved in a slow cadence. Rupert checked his watch. Time. They still had time, but not very much of it. His eyes lingered briefly on the Orb of Thessulah. The object was used only in spells where the soul was needed to be captured from the ether and held - or when the soul needed to be held before entering the ether - or forced somewhere else. Rupert had only seen one other spell which required one in recent times; that had been the spell which cursed Angel and gave the vampire the one thing no other vampire had: a soul. It was a powerful object and it's importance and significance was not to be ignored. At this moment, the Orb was not glowing, meaning that Ami's soul was housed in her body, but that could change at any moment. They would have to move quickly. Quickly, his eyes roamed, checking on the progress of his allies. Angel and Doyle had made a pretty mess of things, piles of dust and a few dead demons lay in various places. But it was clear that their good fortune was beginning to run out. They had finally encountered the thick of Cordovan's forces, and the fight was well-matched. The room that had once been an unfinished basement, had now become a battle-zone, with the life and freedom of a young girl the ultimate prize. Angel, his human mask dissolved and replaced with bony ridges along his cranium and menacing yellow eyes, was holding his own against another vampire. The two circled and attacked, circled and attacked, almost as if they were dancing and not fighting. The half-demon was not fairing so well. Raising his crossbow, Rupert took aim and shot one of the Irishman's assailants squarely between the shoulder blades. It howled and turned, glowing red eyes fixed on the him. With a shake of its spiked head, it charged towards the staircase. Rupert braced himself to meet the beast. The attack never came. A figure rose up out of nowhere, backhanding the creature to the floor. Attacking while it was down, the figure straddled the monster's chest, plunging two fingers into the creature's eye sockets. The demon creature shrilled and trembled, its entire body convulsing until it lay dead. Standing and wiping his hands on his pants, the figure turned and smiled at Rupert. He indicated his eyes with two fingers. "Kopor. The eyes. That's where they're vulnerable." "Whistler." "I'll watch your back. You just figure out some way to get those magickal wardings around the kid down so that we can get to her." "What - Why -" Rupert's words froze in his throat as he received the answer to the question he was preparing to ask. He watched as one of the demons fighting Doyle stumbled backwards, its foot landing between two of the glowing orange sigils closest to Ami's altar. It tossed its head back and screamed in sheer agony, an ear-splitting, earth-shattering scream so full of pain and terror that it made Rupert's blood ice over with fear and horror. While logically he knew that it lasted only a few seconds, it seemed to go on forever as the demon was slowly burned away into nothingness. "Right. Wardings. Down," Rupert managed to stumble out when he could reason again. He moved on instinct, his hands and mind on remote as he reached into the bag carrying The Kelsior, an ancient magick text. He made a note to thank Angel later - when they were out of this - for his foresight. Rupert Giles threw himself into one of the things he did best. He began skimming the book, translating as quickly as he could, in an effort to find a spell to remove the warding. He forced himself to remain focused on the book, not on Angel or Doyle. Even when he heard the yell of pain that he recognized as Angel's. Even when Whistler went down, grappling with a demon. "Watcher! Hurry it up! We're running out of time!" Whistler hissed. "You think that I am not aware of that?" Rupert snapped in return. "These things take time, translation, understanding. I can't just cast any spell -" "Shit." Whistler's word was accompanied by another one of those horrific screams that Rupert could not ignore. His head jerked upwards, following in the direction of the demon's gaze - and the world began to move in slow motion. He took in all of the details at once. Doyle, standing a few paces from the glowing sigils, terror clearly readable even on his demonic visage. The creature Doyle had been wrestling with, standing beyond the sigils, slowly dissolving into nonexistence. But that was not the reason that his heart clenched in his breast. That was not the reason that all fighting, and all time stopped. The creature Doyle had thrown into the sigils had bumped against the caster. The Orb of Thessulah, glowing bright yellow with magick - and Ami's soul - flew from the woman's hands, arcing upwards and outwards in a perfect half-circle before it began it's terrifyingly fast descent towards the floor. "It can't break," Whistler whispered frantically. Rupert's eyes remained pinned on the Orb. It could not break. It could not break. That would kill the girl. The Orb drew closer to the floor. . . . . . and was caught in a single hand. Rupert felt his heart beat again. His eyes clamored up the figure, the hand, the leather clad arm, and he allowed himself to breathe again when he realized that Angel held the Orb. In the distance a clock chimed. Ten o' clock. One chime. Giselle raised her hands and began to cast. Two chimes. She could still cast the spell without the Orb. Three chimes. She could still cast the spell without the Orb. Four chimes. "Angel! She may cast without the Orb in her possession!" Five. From where he lay on the floor, holding the precious glowing object in his hand, the vampire's golden eyes met his. Knowledge and sadness flickered there. Six. "Watcher! You have to do something now. Counter-spell!" Whistler yelled at him. The demon yelled because as Giselle gathered the flows of magick around her, a wind began whipping through the room. It tore at their hair, their faces, the ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "BUMBARGER,MICHELLE" Subject: TPFICT: A Union of Souls (23a/27) Date: 18 Jan 2000 13:48:28 -0500 A Union of Souls (23a/27) Chapter Twenty-Two Doyle's supposition was wrong. They did not exit the sewers immediately inside of Cordovan's gates; they exited them outside the gates, across the street. Getting through the gates and past the gate guards, both human, was not that difficult. Doyle played the lost drunk while Angel and Rupert incapacitated both men. It was getting inside the house that had Rupert Giles a bit worried. Apparently, the prospect worried the Irishman as well. Hovering in the shadows closest to the front door, he shifted from foot to foot a bit anxiously. His light eyes darted in different directions, always returning to stare questioningly at Angel's back. "Well?" "Well, what?" Angel snapped. "Do you have a plan, man, or are we just going to stand out here and pretend to be shrubbery all night?" "I have a plan." "And that would be?" "Watch my back." With those words, the vampire leapt up onto the front landing and delivered a sound kick to the front door. The door shook under the weight of vampiric strength and swung inward with a loud pop and groan. Immediately, flood-lights filled the yard, swooping and shining on every tree and bush while a cacophony of sirens and noise filled the air. Doyle shrugged at Rupert as he hefted a stake and joined Angel on the landing. "I guess we're *not* going with the subtle approach." "No," The former Watcher brought his crossbow to bear, "I suppose we're not." The first two vampires to charge in their direction became dust in the blinking of an eye. Almost faster than Rupert's eyes could register, Angel's arms shot out to his sides and those finely sharpened stakes shot out from beneath the sleeves of his leather coat. Too late, the vampires registered what was happening; too late they tried to stop and slow. Cries of surprise and pain filled the air before their bodies turned to gray ash and floated to the ground. "Giles!" Doyle shouted. With that warning, Rupert turned, aimed, and fired. The vampire stumbled to a halt and then predictably turned to dust. He noticed motion out of the corner of his eye, and swung around, using the crossbow as a club. It smacked loudly across the face of whatever demon creature had been approaching him, sending it stumbling backwards. Well, the crossbow could be good for something even if it wasn't loaded. "Don't fight them!" Angel cried out. It was an odd command to give when he considered that the vampire was surrounded by three figures - and doing precisely that. "Break through!" Break through indeed. Of course, he saw the logic of Angel's plan. They could stand in the marble tiled foyer for the remainder of the evening and continue to fight off every single guard that Cordovan sent their way. It would still not help them find Ami, nor help them rescue the girl. The problem, however, with breaking through Cordovan's forces was that they didn't know where to break through. They had no way of knowing where in this house the girl was being held. Rupert turned and swung the crossbow again. Left, then right, then left again for good measure. He lifted his foot and delivered a solid kick to the creature's sternum - at least he assumed it was the beast's sternum; judgement was difficult based on the number of red and blue scales and bony protrusions - knocking said creature from its feet and sending it sailing at least four feet in the other direction. Luckily for him, the demon's fall was broken by a glass table. "I don't think he'll be getting up anymore," Rupert muttered. "Giles, man, this way!" He turned, following the sound of Doyle's voice and faltered. The voice belonged to the Irishman. The clothes belonged to the Irishman. The red eyes and scaly face covered with spines did *not* belong to Doyle. "It's all right. It's Doyle. He's stronger in his demon form." Angel stepped up to his side, nudging him along. The vampire had a bloody gash down his shirt, but he looked no worse for wear. The fact that he had not transformed into his demon visage meant that things weren't as bad as they could be. "This is your demon form?" Rupert asked the half-man/half-demon with no small amount of curiosity. "Yeah, I know. It's not a face that the girls love." Rupert did not miss the self-loathing he heard in the half-demon's voice, and it explained Doyle's discomfort with revealing his half-demon nature. It was an interesting idea to consider, a half-demon that found its demon half repellant -- but it was an examination that Rupert Giles would have to find time for on another day. Tonight's concern was finding, and rescuing Ami, before she became enslaved to an evil priestess. "Are you certain that Ami's down this way?" Rupert asked as Angel made quick work of twisting the neck of some other kind of demon. The crunch of bone echoed loudly in the narrow hallway. Doyle nodded. "I can smell her." "Smell her?" "Brachen demon," Angel explained. "He's got a good sense of smell." They met up with the second wave of the defense forces at the top of a flight of stairs. The demons and vampires spilled up the staircase, preventing them from charging down. There were more of them, and these were more vicious. A good indication if there ever was one that Ami's rescue squad -- vampire, half-demon, and former Watcher -- were headed in the proper direction. Roughly yanking the knife that had been intended to kill Rupert, from the chest of a now dead demon, and tossing the body from the top of his, Rupert pushed himself disgustedly to his feet. He hefted the blade, decided that he liked it, despite the greenish grayish ichor that was sticking to it. It was definitely more usable than an unloaded crossbow. "You do realize -" Rupert blocked a punch from the left with his arm and shoved the creature back a few paces, " - that they're going to keep coming up and -" he brought the knife to bear, only to have his attack blocked by the demon, " - we're never going to go -" He feinted, dodged and cut a messy swath across the monster's abdomen, wincing as it howled in pain, "-down." "I thought of that. I have it covered." Angel grabbed the last of their assailants, a vampire, by the throat and tossed it back the way it had come. Then with a loud roar and a growl, the vampire threw himself down the narrow staircase after it. Doyle's red eyes flickered from Rupert to the stairs and back again. "I hate it when he says that." Rupert blinked at the staircase with mild surprise. "He does this often?" "He likes to make an entrance." "I can see that." Rupert retrieved the crossbow from its strap on his back and began quickly re-loading it. "Is Ami-" "Down there? Oh yeah. Watch my back." Then, the demon disappeared down the staircase in much the same fashion that the vampire had. "I'll walk if you don't mind," Rupert commented to no one in particular. He sighed, and giving a quick prayer to the first god of battle that leapt to mind, he began to descend the darkened staircase. ******** ... to be continued in Part 23b . . . ******** Michele B. Author, Archivist & Webmistress Jagged Edge Fan Fiction Archive http://www.jaggededge.pair.com ******** ir clothes. Seven. "Angel, man, we have to do something!" Eight. The vampire raised the Orb in his hand, his eyes closing in resolve. "Anything but that!" "It will kill her!" "He knows," Rupert whispered more to himself than anyone else. Nine. "He knows." The vampire's hand came down, slamming the Orb against the floor, shattering it into a million shards. Ten. As the Orb shattered, the wind wailed and whipped up frantically, throwing Rupert back against the stairs. A bright, blinding light buckled up from where the Orb shattered, growing brighter and brighter with each passing moment until it was too bright to stare look at any longer. Rupert averted his eyes, feeling the light on his skin. It burned. It lashed at him like a thousand whips, like fine sand in a sand storm. Screams echoed in the chamber, the same agony and pained screams of death that he heard earlier, only now they were ten times stronger. They were ten times more painful, ten times more gut-tearing. If he had cared any at all, he would have been embarrassed that he lost his dinner over the side of the stairs. He tried to drag himself away, but he was caught in the center of the storm as was everyone else. He was forced to ride it out. It was over as quickly as it had begun. Sudden stillness and silence descended on the room, the light vanishing in the blinking of an eye. One single, agony filled scream hung in the air and then, clutching her head, Giselle fell limply to the floor besides Ami's altar. Ami. Despite the bitter taste in his mouth, the weakness in his knees, Rupert knew that he had to get to the girl. The sigils no longer glowed, their magick having been somehow - inexplicably - rendered harmless in that last backlash. He wove unsteadily to the altar, only Doyle, who stood closer, made it there before him. Settled back into his human features, and looking like a man who had been beaten within an inch of his life, he stared up at the former Watcher in shock. His fingers rested on Ami's neck and his mouth moved silently a few times before he could manage to stutter out the words. "She's alive. I don't know how, but she's alive." Rupert checked for himself. There was a pulse. It was faint and weak, and her skin was far too cold for his comfort, but she was indeed alive. He breathed a sigh of relief; he didn't think that he could have handled the guilt of her death - even if it had been to save her from a fate worse than death. "Angel?" Rupert asked. "The rest of Cordovan's forces?" "Destroyed, most of them," Whistler knelt on the floor besides the vampire's still form. "That magick - it destroyed all the ones who weren't smart enough to look away or get down low." "How's Angel?" Doyle prompted. Then paused, his eyes roving to the very still figure of the woman lying still on the ground. "Giselle." "Forget about her. She can't harm us right now. She can't harm anyone right now." Rupert was all business again. They had what they came for. Ami was alive and she was whole. If Doyle and Angel wanted to take up a battle with Cordovan and Giselle, they would have future opportunities to do it. He scooped Ami's unmoving form into his arms, turning to see the demon struggling to lift the unconscious vampire to his feet. "I assume you know a different path out of here?" "Is he dead?" Doyle asked, his voice covered with fear, his eyes on Angel. "Is he dust?" Whistler grunted in response. "I just don't like the idea of leaving him here to get staked, you know? I didn't pull him out of the sewers for nothing. Help me out, here and we can all get the hell out of this place." *** End of Chapter Twenty-Two ******** Michele B. Author, Archivist & Webmistress Jagged Edge Fan Fiction Archive http://www.jaggededge.pair.com ******** ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "BUMBARGER,MICHELLE" Subject: TPFICT: A Union of Souls (24a/27) Date: 19 Jan 2000 12:01:57 -0500 A Union of Souls (24a/27) An Angel/New Series Tomorrow People Crossover By Michele Mason Bumbarger Chapter Twenty-Three "I don't understand it." Adam watched as Rupert Giles removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He flipped open the old, worn book he had been reading and sighed dubiously. "I can't find any explanation for this in any of these books. The girl should be dead. The spell had begun, the spirit cord had been severed . . . there is no reason that she should be alive." Adam twitched in response to the older man's words, his jaw tightening. He clenched his fist tightly, fingernails digging into the palm of his hand as he distracted himself from saying the bitter words that lurked on the tip of his tongue. He knew that Mr. Giles was not trying to be callous or insensitive; he knew that the man was still puzzling over the last bizarre moments before they rescued Ami, when Angel had apparently disrupted Giselle's spell. Mr. Giles didn't want Ami dead. He simply wanted to know why Angel's actions, destroying the Orb of Thessulah during the casting, had not killed his fellow Tomorrow Person. Megabyte, however, lacked Adam's restraint and he glared at the man sitting on the sofa on the opposite side of the office. "Some of us are kind of happy about that, you know. That's she's alive." Mr. Giles looked up from his reflection at the sound of Megabyte's harshly spoken words. "Oh, I'm sorry, Megabyte," he stumbled over the name for not the first time and frowned. Also for not the first time, it was clear that he wanted to call the redhead American something -- anything else -- but Megabyte. "I didn't mean it the way it sounded. It's simply that, this puzzle . . . I can't seem to understand it, and I daresay our only hope of helping Ami now is to figure out what happened." "And be glad that we know what didn't happen." Doyle leaned in the doorway to the other office, Angel's office. The half-demon spent what time he didn't spend researching sitting behind the desk of his friend and boss, staring off worriedly into space. It was easy for Adam to see that Doyle and Cordelia were as worried about Angel as he and Megabyte were about Ami. "Giselle never got her soul." He raised his hand and subconsciously touched the bandage on his forehead. "We stopped that at least." "Well, you should have done better." Ice flashed in Megabyte's eyes as he stalked across the office and out of the entry door. Megabyte hadn't added the afterthought, the one fear that hung unspoken in the air between them all. They were happy that Ami was alive, that Angel and his friends had managed to rescue her. However, whether she was truly alive, or stuck in a coma -- possibly trapped between planes -- and destined to be a vegetable for the rest of her life remained to be seen. She had been unconscious, her body freezing cold to the touch, when Mr. Giles, Doyle and Whistler had returned, carrying both Ami and the out of commission vampire. Ami was unresponsive, even to telepathic stimuli, although neither Adam nor Megabyte could detect anything that was wrong with her. Halfway around the world, on an uncharted desert island, a millennium old spaceship appeared to be unconcerned. The general feeling from the Ship was that Ami was merely sleeping -- deeply sleeping -- but sleeping nevertheless. However, it was difficult for he and Megabyte to take the Ship at its word, when her deep sleep so closely resembled a coma. Gradually, over the next few hours, while everyone traded off hovering over the sleeping Tomorrow Person, and the vampire whom also never awoke, her body had warmed, rising to a normal temperature. Megabyte had sworn that he saw her stir, but an hour of watching her only gave Adam tired, watery eyes. They were trying not to disturb or upset the others, not until they had some answers. Unfortunately, it didn't look like they would have them anytime soon. Mr. Giles and Doyle passed the time doing research. They plodded through book after book, reading about spells and magickal vortexes, and Mr. Giles placed a few calls back to Sunnydale and London, but still did not receive any answers. Whistler hovered quietly in the background, refusing to look through any books because as he said, "It's all up to The Powers That Be now." When questioned about his disappearance and unexpected return. The demon shrugged. "I did my part. I only came back to deliver a message to a certain tall and broody vampire. Then my work here is done." "Well, that's a little hard when he's like been hit with a whammy and isn't waking up, isn't it?" Cordelia demanded. "Oh, he'll wake up, sweetheart. You'll see." He would say no more, and eventually, everyone -- including Mr. Giles -- gave up asking the demon any questions. Adam wished that Angel would awaken. Apparently the vampire had been unconscious since interrupting the spell-casting and from the things that Mr. Giles, and Whistler, implied, it was no doubt connected to Ami's current state as well. If Angel woke up, there was a good chance that Ami would -- or at least that he might know more than they did. It was a small hope, but it was better than no hope at all. Adam stared after Megabyte a long moment, studying the closed office door and processing Megabyte's hurt and fear before finally turning back to Doyle. He offered the Irishman a smile of apology, "He's upset." "Aye, he's worried about Ami. Both of you are. And I understand it." He folded his arms across his chest, his gaze going downward. Not focusing on the floor beneath his feet, but rather on the vampire who slept in the apartment below. "It's funny how carin' about somebody will do that to you." There didn't seem to be answer for that, so Adam simply sank to the sofa and did what they all had been doing. He waited. And hoped. And prayed. * * * * * to be continued in 24b . . . ******** Michele B. Author, Archivist & Webmistress Jagged Edge Fan Fiction Archive http://www.jaggededge.pair.com ******** ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "BUMBARGER,MICHELLE" Subject: TPFICT: A Union of Souls (24b/27) Date: 19 Jan 2000 12:04:22 -0500 A Union of Souls (24b/27) Angel/New Series Tomorrow People Crossover by Michele Mason Bumbarger Chapter Twenty-Three (cont'd) Angel awoke to a cacophony of sound and images, feelings, emotions and knowledge that disoriented and bewildered him. On the very edges of his awareness, he knew where he was, he recognized the smell of the leather sofa of his apartment, the familiar shadows of the place he called home. But those thoughts were nearly impossible to hold onto among the chaos that swirled in his head. His mind felt like it had been ripped into a thousand splinters, then shattered and ripped again. The demon fought and lashed out, crying for blood, screaming in hunger and despair, rattling the bars of a gilded silver cage that Angel could picture briefly in his mind's eyes. The picture was brief because it imploded and shattered into a thousand other images, some familiar, some unfamiliar and each and every one beyond his mental grasp. Every feeling he had ever had, every thought he ever voiced, every desire that he ever possessed buffeted and raged against him before being torn away yet again. His relived his entire existence repeatedly, over and over again, superimposed on the kaleidoscope of memory and image that on one level did not belong to him, and on another level did. A part of him recognized that he should be able to make sense of the pictures, places and faces swirling in the mist and maze that had become his existence, but he could not. Those blurred and swirled around him, buffeting him in feeling and emotion that seemed both alien and a part of him at the same time. . . . a man's face, kind and laughing . . . the soft cries of a little girl as the face fades from view. . . a woman baking cookies . . . a spelling bee . . . a piano recital . . . a funeral . . . a sandy beach . . . a blonde girl waving . . . It was the same as it had been forever it seemed like, but he knew it had only been since he lifted the Orb of Thessaluh over his head. He had only been living this maddening and splintered life, which replayed itself as viciously in dreams as it did when he was awake, since he shattered the Orb at his feet and felt the disrupted magickal energies cut him through, searing him to his very soul. The more alert he became, the faster the images came. Flickering through his shattered brain more quickly than he could even process. The thoughts were not all his, and yet they were apart of him, emblazoned into his memory, his heart and his soul as surely as if he had lived every moment of it himself. A young woman, blonde very pretty killing monsters . . .a sterile hospital corridor . . . a man wearing glasses reading an old leather bound book . . .an alien environment pulsing blue light . . .Halloween costumes . . . Ancient Egypt . . . And behind it all, just beyond the images . . . the pain. He had experienced pain before, pain times one hundred. He had experienced pain worse than death during his stay in hell, but it paled in contrast to this. It was but a pinpricking of the finger compared to the agony that knifed at him now. An agony so severe that he would have thrown himself out in sunlight to end it, had he been able. As it was, he could barely force himself to a sitting position, force himself to his feet. The pain was like fine silver threads cutting into him -- not into his physical self, but into his psychic self, into his soul -- and into the demon. Which explained the demon's bloodlust and violence, it explained why Angel could feel his demonic visage falling into place, and was powerless to shift back to his human guise. He cried out against the pain, struggling to control the demon, to shove it back in that cage that still flickered and flashed in his mind's eye, but the pain distracted him. Solace. He had to find solace. His body moved instinctively, half-walking, half-lurching towards the partially open door of his bedroom. He stumbled, once, twice, but still forced himself to keep walking. The closer he drew to that door, the more the pain lessened. It was only a minute lessening, but even that was enough solace from the blinding agony that tore at him as a wild beast tears at its prey. Solace met him halfway, seeking him as he sought her and they stumbled to the floor together. Meeting her dark shadowed and desperate eyes gave him a few moments of coherent thought; the touch of her hands cut the pain in half. And it was still not enough. The world continued to splinter and rebuild itself around him, over and over again, an endless black hole that he could not climb out of. The silver threads continued to lash at him, and her half-ragged sobs joined his own. The demon howled and raged, hearing the beating of her heart, smelling the sweetness of the blood that flowed just beneath her skin. Wave after wave of fire and agony struck at them both while he fought against his baser nature. Strike, strike. The demon won, breaking free of the weak hold he kept on it. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, fangs easily breaking into the tender skin. Her life's essence spilled forth, the sweet elixir pouring into his mouth and down his throat. Her hands and nails clawed at his back, his hair -- not pushing him away but drawing him in because as he fed, the pain lessened, waning and fading, waning and fading. As her blood infused his body, the splintering of mind and soul stopped and the maelstrom of chaos retreated. The demon gave a final, piercing howl, thrown back into the silver cage that Angel could now clearly see in his mind. Thrown back as with the last vestiges of strength, a wave of horror and repulsion coming over, he tore himself away from her body, trembling with fear at what he had just done. Coherent thought and reason soared to life. "Oh God, no, Ami." Her eyes met his, her gaze clear and unwavering. The door to the silver cage slammed shut. The cacophony of noise and imagery, emotion and memory abruptly ended. Silence and stillness reigned. And they were whole. *** End of Chapter Twenty-Three ******** Michele B. Author, Archivist & Webmistress Jagged Edge Fan Fiction Archive http://www.jaggededge.pair.com ******** ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "BUMBARGER,MICHELLE" Subject: TPFICT: A Union of Souls (25/27) Date: 19 Jan 2000 12:14:57 -0500 A Union of Souls (25/27) An Angel/New Series Tomorrow People Crossover By Michele Mason Bumbarger Chapter Twenty-Four "Your souls have been bonded." Whistler made the announcement as though he was announcing the sports scores. Still a bit disoriented, very tired and weak, and beginning to feel the start of a splitting headache, Ami leaned back against the headboard of Angel's bed. The Tomorrow Person drew her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. She said nothing, her eyes flickering from the vampire to the demon and back again. "What's that supposed to mean?" Angel demanded. He was too weak to stand, but he managed to look quite menacing from where he sat in the armchair. "You know exactly what it means," Whistler sighed. "Both of you do." Ami still said nothing. Mainly because there was nothing to say. Yes, she knew what it meant and she *knew* that Angel did as well. She was aware of him on every level, aware that while he was sitting several feet away from her, their thoughts and feelings continued to crash and collide, jumbling and wrapping around one another. It was similar to and yet one hundred times different from her awareness of her fellow Tomorrow People. Her awareness of Angel was closer, stronger and somehow a thousand times more intimate and more intense. Her mind raced backwards as she tried to make sense of everything and failed. Nothing had made much sense since she awoke to find herself going mad with pain and confusion. She had stumbled from Angel's bed more on instinct than with any conscious thought, seeking out the one thing that would ease her pain and suffering. She had no more known that it would be Angel than he had known it would be her. The others had found them not very long afterwards. They had remained where they were on the floor, simply clinging desperately to one another while their minds, bodies and souls sought to make sense of everything. Whistler immediately tried to sweep them both away for a private conversation, but Adam - and Rupert - would not hear of it. Rupert was particularly alarmed when he found the bite on Ami's throat. It had taken a while to get everyone calmed down. Calming down everyone included convincing Cordelia that Angel hadn't 'gone evil' again. And in the end, Adam and Giles had only conceded to allow Whistler this moment 'alone' with them if they could be present. Which had brought several protests from Megabyte, Doyle and Cordelia until Angel silenced them all with a menacing growl. Now they gathered in Angel's bedroom, Ami seated on the bed with Adam hovering protectively by her side while Rupert leaned in the doorway and Whistler paced the length of the bedroom. "Well," Rupert removed his glasses and lowered his head to his hands, pinching the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb. Random thoughts floated through the newly formed link she shared with Angel, and she knew the man only did that when he was frustrated. "Why don't you try explaining it for those of us who don't know what it means?" Whistler did as he was told, but he directed the explanation not at Rupert Giles or Adam, but rather towards the two hundred and forty-six year old vampire who looked as though he was about to develop a taste for demons. "You're linked together now. You'll always be aware of one another, your minds, your thoughts. You'll learn to compensate, if you want. You'll gain back your privacy. And it's not as bad as it sounds-" "It's not as bad as it sounds?" Rupert sputtered in indignation. "You're saying that an innocent girl has been soul-bond to a vampire and it's not as bad as it sounds? I suppose the next thing you'll be telling me is that really, opening the Hellmouth won't be as terrible as everyone's come to believe." For the first time since meeting him, Angel was surprised to see the demon actually bristle in anger. Ami took a breath, shaking her head, amazed at how clearly the vampire's thought came through to her. "There's a big difference between what's happened here and opening the Hellmouth, Watcher. So don't make light of it." "Is there?" Angel asked. There was a heavy, mournful edge to his voice, that nearly brought tears to Ami's eyes. He agreed with Rupert - there didn't seem to be much difference in her being bond to him than in the opening of the Hellmouth. That was less than flattering and certainly not comforting. "The Powers That Be choose her for this. Whether you like it or not, there it is." Angel's dark eyes sought out her gaze. The eye contact was electric; neither of them could hide anything when their eyes met, and she knew the moment that contact was made that he had been as aware of her thoughts as she was of his. She also knew that he hadn't meant to be insulting. His words were aimed at the demon, but his gaze never wavered from hers. "Why is she being punished?" "Angelus, this isn't a punishment. They don't work that way." "Don't They?" His gaze slid away from hers, pinning Whistler where he stood. "No, They don't. Sure, I'll be the first to admit that They do a lot of things for their own reasons, but if They wanted to punish someone, They would find a different way to do it. They certainly don't punish the innocent. "Look, you know as much about this as I do now. This is all a part of Their plan. You've been given an ally. Don't abuse it. And you," Whistler turned to look at her now, making certain that he had her full attention, "have been given a second chance at life. You know They brought you here for a purpose. Maybe it's the purpose you were born for. Whatever the case, you can't change it. No one can. You just have to learn to accept it." "So that's it, then?" Adam demanded. "That's all you have to say? You walk around acting like you know so much when in the end you don't know anything at all." "I know that I've spent a lot of years listening to the Powers That Be, kid, so don't try to jerk my chain. They tell me what They want me to know, and then if I should, I pass it on." "You knew about this." Coming from anyone else the accusation would have been high-pitched and possibly tinted with hysterics. Coming from Angel it held a note of malice and venom, and Ami was grateful that she was not the one it was directed at. She hoped to never be the one that sort of thinly veiled ire was aimed towards. The demon actually experienced a moment of fear. Angel smelled it, processed it and she became aware of it as well. Ami closed her eyes briefly, drawing what little energy she had left, and tightened her shields. The only way to block out Angel seemed to be to block out everyone, but that would have to do for now. As she did, Adam gave her a concerned and startled glance. She could tell that he thought something was wrong - something besides what was immediately obvious - and she flashed him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. Ami avoided looking at Angel period. "I knew that this would happen, yes. I didn't know when . . . or how," Whistler admitted, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I was sent here to make sure it happened, to make certain that you sealed the bond." Ami's hand instinctively rose to the bandage on her throat, touching it gingerly. She felt three pairs of eyes knowing flicker towards her, but she continued to watch Whistler. She didn't need to look at Adam or Rupert to know that they were staring at her with concern. "So, what happens now?" Whistler scooped his ugly, battered hat from the dresser and placed it on his head. "That's up to you, now. I've done my part, delivered the message that I had to deliver." He nodded to Rupert and Adam, turning lastly to Angel. "I'm sure this won't be the last I'll see of you, Angelus." "If only I could be so lucky." Whistler inclined his head towards Ami, but kept his attention on the vampire. His voice dropped, a low whisper that was still loud enough to be heard by everyone in the room. "This is gift, you know. There's supposed to be power in these sorts of things, you just have to figure out what that power is. And check the demon - you might be surprised." With those words, Whistler turned and ducked out of the bedroom, never looking back. "Yes, well," Rupert paused, returning his glasses to his face. He gave Ami a nod and a half-smile that she knew was meant to reassure. "If there is a way to reverse this - bond - we will find it. In the meantime, you should probably see about getting some rest. You've lost blood and it will take a while to recover from that." Ami merely nodded in response to his suggestion. He turned and walked towards the door, stopping in the doorway to look at Adam. His pale eyes flickered from the eldest of the Tomorrow People to Ami to Angel and then back again. "Adam, would you join me? I think that we very much need to talk." [Ami?] She heard Adam's voice in her mind. [Go on,] Ami urged him, [I'll be all right.] [If you're sure . . .] Ami glanced towards Angel. The vampire's eyes were focused on the doorway, but even shielded, she knew that he wasn't looking at the doorway. He was in thought, his brow partially furrowed in concentration. [I'm positive, Adam. I'll be fine.] Her friend took a last, long glance at Angel before nodding in acquiescence. [If you need anything . . .] "I'll shout," Ami smiled and gave his hand a squeeze. Her first words spoken aloud caused Rupert to raise his eyebrows at them and then shake his head. "More and more curious," the man muttered as Adam followed him from the bedroom. Left alone with the vampire, Ami watched him and waited. It was unbelievable how much had happened in the span of just a few days. Her life had been turned completely and wholly inside out and upside down, and she had been - and was still powerless - to do anything about it. In a just a few short days, she went from thinking that she knew everything there was to know about the world and its mysteries - the Tomorrow People being top on that list - to discovering that she was as uninformed and blind as the majority of the world's populace. If someone had told her that moving to Los Angeles would result in being kidnapped by a power crazy witch of black magick and wind up soul-bond to a vampire, she would have laughed at them. The question she didn't have an answer to was whether or not she would have still moved to Los Angeles *if* she had known. "Well, I'll be damned," Angel whispered, mostly to himself as he shook himself from whatever trance and thoughts he was submerged in. He looked up and around the room, his eyes finally coming to rest on her. "Something wrong?" Ami asked quietly. Something besides what was obviously wrong. "The demon . . . it's . . . controlled," Angel explained and then shook his head, dismissing the subject entirely. "Giles is right. You need to get some rest. You need to -" His eyes flickered briefly to her throat, and she watched him wince slightly, "Recover." "Angel-" "We'll talk later." He pushed himself to his feet, a note of finality and a ring of promise in his voice. "We'll have more than enough time to talk. But right now, rest." Ami opened her mouth to object, then snapped her jaw tightly closed. He was right, of course, if Whistler's words about the bond rang true, if Rupert didn't find a way to reverse the effect, there would be plenty of time to talk. Right now, Ami just needed to think. And . . . sleep. *** End of Chapter Twenty-Four ******** Michele B. Author, Archivist & Webmistress Jagged Edge Fan Fiction Archive http://www.jaggededge.pair.com ******** ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "BUMBARGER,MICHELLE" Subject: TPFICT: A Union of Souls (26/27) Date: 19 Jan 2000 12:17:05 -0500 A Union of Souls (26/27) An Angel/New Series Tomorrow People Crossover By Michele Mason Bumbarger Chapter Twenty-Five Angel stepped from the bedroom, pulling the door closed behind him. He felt drained, impossibly drained. Even after ingesting three bags of blood, he still had regained little of his strength and stamina. But that didn't matter to him really; it didn't change anything and it didn't stop the necessity of work that needed to be done. "Doyle." Angel called to the half-demon, holding onto the doorknob for support while he gathered all the energy he would require for the short walk to the elevator. "Hey, Angel, man," Doyle approached him quickly, pausing a few feet away and folding his arms across his chest. "You know, you don't look too good?" "Yeah, you look even more dead than normal," Cordelia cheekily informed him. "How do you feel?" "Like I've been to hell and back," Angel responded, feeling his mouth quirk into a slight smile at Cordelia's unique display of concern. His eyes made a quick circuit of the room, locating Adam and Giles, and the other teleporter - Tomorrow Person - Megabyte. The fleeting thoughts and memories that he had gathered from Ami while they were caught at the edge of the seal of the bond, filled in the blanks. His thoughts scattered briefly, focusing almost completely on the bond and the Tomorrow Person slowly drifting to sleep on the other side of the door. She had dampened down their link - something he wished he had thought of sooner - effectively muting the buffeting and cascading of their minds and emotions against one another, and for that he was grateful. It was hard enough dealing with the constant gnawing awareness of the demon, he wasn't sure how he would adjust to living with another awareness. He would have to, he knew that much. He had been in this game long enough to know that what The Powers That Be did was seldom to be undone. And to their way of thinking, everything They did was for some purpose or another. Why else would They have sent Whistler to pull him out of a gutter and speed him on his way to Sunnydale and Buffy Summers? Why pull him out of hell - and yes, he was convinced now that he had been freed from hell by Them. They sent him Doyle, They sent him missives, and now, for reasons he probably would never comprehend, They had sent him Ami as well. Angel forced the random musings aside. He could worry about that later. Right now, there were more pressing issues. "How much time did we lose?" "Lose?" Doyle looked up, and then nodded as he made the connection. "You've been out for a day and a half. I've been keepin' an ear to the ground and there's not a sign of Cordovan, Giselle or any of his forces anywhere." "I should think not," Giles remarked. "It seems to me that his forces were badly decimated in that backlash. I'm still amazed it didn't incinerate us all as well." "Well, we know why," Angel walked slowly across the room, sinking to the sofa. As he did so, he released an unnecessary sigh of relief to have accomplished walking that short distance. "It's also a good thing. I want to strike while his guard is down. He won't be expecting us again. We can go back in-" "Angel, you're not seriously considering going back into the enemy camp?" Giles demanded. "You don't leave an enemy at your back," Angel reminded the former Watcher. "You know this as well as I do. We still have a chance to take down his power base -" "Angel," Doyle sat on the coffee table across from him, clamping him on the shoulder, "I want you to know that I say this with all due respect -" "You're crazy," Cordelia overrode Doyle's words. "That is like complete and total suicide. I mean, you're not Batman, okay? Mr. I've-been-playing-dead-for-almost-two-days-and-I-still-think-that-I-can-go-o ut-and-fight-the-evil, would you like to wake up now? "You are like so completely useless right now that Doyle could take you." "Hey!" Doyle protested. Giles interrupted before Cordelia and Doyle could lapse into one of their infamous quarrels. "Angel, I have to agree with Cordelia and Doyle. You truly are not in any condition to go out and face Cordovan or his forces." "Giles, I have a responsibility-" "Oh, yes, I've heard all about your responsibility and your mission. Help the helpless, slay evil where you find it, aid all those in Doyle's visions." Giles sank into the armchair, removing his glasses as he caught and held Angel's gaze. "But do I need to remind you that you have another responsibility now? One that you should consider before you rush off into battle and get yourself killed. "You're weak. And the bond is much too new for us to have any idea how you going out and getting injured or worse - killed - will affect her. Is that truly a risk you want to take, Angel?" Angel didn't know what he hated more: being lectured by Rupert Giles or being lectured by Rupert Giles when he recognized every word the man said as being true and right. He nodded, slowly and reluctantly in acquiescence. He would stay in tonight. "We'll get another chance at Cordovan," Doyle promised. Angel was counting on it. *** End of Chapter Twenty-Five ******** Michele B. Author, Archivist & Webmistress Jagged Edge Fan Fiction Archive http://www.jaggededge.pair.com ******** ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "BUMBARGER,MICHELLE" Subject: TPFICT: A Union of Souls (27/27) Date: 19 Jan 2000 12:20:51 -0500 A Union of Souls (27/27) An Angel/New Series Tomorrow People Crossover By Michele Mason Bumbarger Epilogue Sunset. Not nearly as beautiful as what he recalled of sunrise, but still it held a magic and beauty of its own. The perfect moment, when the sun sank beneath the horizon, when Angel could actually stand and gaze on the after image of its light. Standing on the roof of the building, Angel leaned forward, resting his arms comfortably on the ledge. Another night was falling in the city of angels, another soul somewhere would be hurting and in need of aid. As for the two souls bond together, Angel still hadn't decided whether it was deliverance or punishment. He still wrestled with the question of 'what if.' If he had known then what he knew now, would he have crushed the orb? Would he have tried to escape with it instead and allow Giles to work his magick? Deep down inside, he knew the answer; he would have acted as he had because it was the only way to keep Ami truly free of Cordovan and Giselle. Unfortunately, unless Giles' research turned up something, the Tomorrow Person would never be free of the vampire. Thinking of Ami as he was, his mind could not help but attune itself to her. He hadn't seen her for nearly a week - not that he could blame her. Sharing your soul and being bonded with a vampire couldn't be high on her list of things she wanted to do before she died. In a way, he was glad to not have seen her - it meant that he didn't have to feel guilt over what had happened - even if Giles and Doyle had repeatedly reminded him that he had nothing to feel guilty for. How wrong they were. He had two hundred years to feel guilty for; and if he'd been able to protect Ami, this would never have happened to begin with. So much for Doyle's warning visions. She was very, very close now. That surprised Angel the moment his mind locked onto the knowledge. After a week of avoidance, a week when she only spoke to Doyle or Cordelia, she was here. She was climbing the stairs to the rooftop. She was looking for him. He listened as the door to the roof swung open, listened as she padded softly up to his side. He felt her approach, felt the lightness of her soul and instinctively, he closed his eyes, savoring that light. The demon stirred, but did not rattle the bars of its cage. It was a part of the bond that he could not deny that he enjoyed. She seemed to lift some of the darkness -- and she was able to quell the demon. Ami mimicked his stance, leaning forward against the cement ledge to look at the city sprawled beneath them. He couldn't tell what she was thinking, they had made certain of that in the early days of this bond. She was used to holding her mental shields, used to filtering the thoughts of others away from her own. Angel had discovered that it was not so difficult to damp down the link between their minds. As Whistler had said, they would learn to compensate. And they were learning. "Doyle told me that I would find you up here," Ami said simply, her clipped accent floating across the stillness of falling night. "Dusk. It's my time." "I like this part of sunset," Ami mused. "Right before it's perfectly dark. When the sky turns purple and the sun disappears, and day meets night." Angel shot her a glance out of the corner of his eye. He wondered if she was trying to apply some subtle metaphor to describe their current situation. If she was, she said nothing more. The young woman never even turned her head in his direction, continuing to stare across the cityscape. They stood like that, side by side until full night rose, without a single hint of purple in the sky, darkness cloaking them. It was hardly a comfortable silence of camaraderie, but Angel had to admit that something about it felt right. Having her there felt right . . . if a bit awkward. After all, what did one say and how did one interact with the person whom The Powers That Be had chosen as your soul-mate? How did you interact with someone who was, for lack of a better word, an intimate stranger? "I was thinking," she surprised him by speaking again, but still not looking at him, "I want to help out. I want to work with you. And Doyle and Cordelia." That was unexpected. Angel turned to look at her, noting that she purposely avoided his eyes, drawing invisible patterns on the ledge. He said nothing, watching her and waiting. Somehow he knew that she wasn't quite done yet . . . that she hadn't said all that she wanted to say. Her head rose slowly, her dark eyes meeting his. The effect of achieving eye contact was still there, linking them immediately and completely. But this time it wasn't nearly as unexpected, or as invasive. She held a tight rein on her mental shields, holding her thoughts inside and keeping his out. Yes, he still felt a wash of emotion, and the pressing awareness and knowledge of her, that never changed. But he was grateful for her telepathic abilities and her previously learned ability to shield. It protected them both until they were ready to be that intimate with one another. If they ever would be. "I came to Los Angeles just to get away from home and spread my wings. I guess I've done that -- and then some. But something has always been missing and I think this is it. "I like what you're doing, helping people and fighting evil and I want to be a part of that . . . whatever way I can. I want to help people. I want to help you." She lowered her eyes again as she said the last, her voice dropping to a barely audible whisper. Had it not been for his preternatural hearing, he would not have heard her next words, "If you don't mind, that is." Angel considered her for a long moment, staring thoughtfully at the top of her head. Fate, destiny and The Powers That Be had thrown them together, and if he had learned nothing else from his time in Sunnydale and his few short months in Los Angeles, it was that he really couldn't argue with them. He didn't understand them, or what they did, but if it was a step along the path to his redemption, then he would accept it. And if Ami thought that she fit in with their rag-a-tag group, then who was he to argue with her? Doyle and Cordelia had already accepted her inevitable presence in his life, and their lives by default, as could be seen by the number of times one, or both, of them had gone down to campus to see her since that first occasion when he sent them. So, perhaps she did belong here, perhaps she did fit in with them. And if Ami wanted to be here . . . maybe Doyle was right. Maybe she didn't blame him for any of this, maybe she really did want to make the best of things. Maybe she really was a part of his redemption. Hesitantly Angel reached out a hand, hooking a finger under her chin to force her eyes up to his. Angel felt inexplicably relieved when she didn't flinch away at his touch. "You know what we do isn't easy, Ami. It's dangerous, it's -" The vampire stopped as the eyes of the young woman before him widened. He could see the wheels turning in her head, and he sighed as he realized a bit belatedly that if she hadn't already figured that out she never would. "Well, Cordelia keeps saying that she could use an assistant. And we could probably use another set of eyes. And a typist and someone who can file. . . if you want to do this and be here . . . you're more than welcome." "But no fighting," the vampire amended quickly. "You don't fight." Ami smiled, a bright smile that completely touched her eyes. Angel actually felt the relief and elation that rolled off of her. It made his smile widen. "Thank you, Angel." At that moment, the door swung open again and Cordelia appeared, Doyle fast on her heels. She nodded a quick hello to Ami before directing her attention at Angel. "I am pleased to say that our - your check - from very rich and very grateful grandma, just cleared the account. So our little venture here is now a good several thousand dollars richer. Therefore, I think we need to talk about that raise now." "Raise?" Angel was actually taken by surprise. Doyle straightened up as well. "What makes you think you get a raise?" "How about to compensate for my broken nails and destroyed wardrobe for starters? And let's not forget the mental anguish and hazard pay that I'm not getting." Angel could see that Doyle was prepared to say something else, and he cut in smoothly. "You know, Cordelia, you really are a big help to us, but you've been going on for so long about needing an assistant that I kind of hired one for you. Of course, that means we can't really give you a raise." The brunette considered it. "You really hired me an assistant?" Angel shrugged as innocently as he could manage, winking discretely at the Tomorrow Person who was watching him, her mouth tightened in barely restrained laughter. "You said that you needed one because there was so much to be done. Not to mention all those auditions you would be able to go to." "True," Cordelia nodded. "But how do we know that you didn't hire someone evil? Or worse? This is LA, you know." "You be the judge." Angel motioned towards Ami, "Meet your new assistant." The former cheerleader turned and looked at Ami as if suddenly remembering the other girl's presence. She blinked, her voice of disbelief. "You?" Her head whipped back towards Angel, "Her?" The vampire lifted an inquiring eyebrow and Cordelia indignantly defended herself. "Not that it's a bad thing. I just don't understand - why? What did Angel do, twist your arm? Go all 'grr' on you?" "I want to help out, Cordelia. I offered." "You *want* to spend all your free time with Soul-boy and Demon-guy over there? Well, not like you have much of a choice with Soul-boy, but wouldn't you rather do something that will ensure a long life and healthy skin? Like maybe -- frat parties?" "I think you're doing a good thing. I want to be a part of it." "I just want to go on record as saying I think that the whole soul-bond thing has fried your brain. Just so that's on the record, and I can say 'I told you so' later," Cordelia shook her head, but her voice and her eyes were smiling as she linked her arm affectionately through Ami's and pulled the Tomorrow Person back towards the roof entrance. "Come on, I'll get you all set up. You can have Doyle's desk. He doesn't use it for anything except resting his feet anyway. And he's never happy with the coffee, so don't worry about how strong or weak it is. Never let Doyle or Angel near the files because I swear they wouldn't know the alphabet if it jumped up and bit them on the ass. Are you getting all this? It's okay if you're not, because we can go over it again . . ." The door closed behind them, thankfully cutting off Cordelia's prattle. "So, the little lady's going to join forces with us now?" Doyle asked thoughtfully. Angel nodded, turning back to stare out across the city. "I guess she is." "You're all right with that?" Remembering the light in Ami's eyes when he agreed to accept her help, Angel felt his own lips turn up into a smile. "Yeah, Doyle, I think I am." *** End Yes, that's it. It's finished. Yes, there will be a sequel to tie up loose ends and answers some questions that I've left dangling. But, first I am going to take a break for a while. Hope that you enjoyed! Michele Mason Bumbarger January 2000 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: AgentRacerX@cs.com Subject: TPFICT: When I Was Your Age (0/4) (read warning!) Date: 23 Jan 2000 17:26:10 EST Title: When I Was Your Age Author: Nicole Gray WARNING: This story could also be called "Nicole's Big, Unfavorable Commentary on Mind-Altering Drugs." I do not condone drug use or drinking in excess. In fact, I hate both, and like to think that this story supports that view. However, it *is* supposed to be funny, and if you can't stand the thought of that, save us both a lot of trouble and don't read it. I'd have to stick a PG-13 on this simply because of that. Summary: Megabyte's on a trip with his father when he starts to feel strange. Things go from bad to worse as they realize that they've been drugged without their knowledge. (Humor. . . hopefully.) Notes: I wrote this after being inspired by a conversation on TPDIS a while back about what would happen to the TPs if they took mind-altering drugs. It's supposed to be funny. Laugh if you feel so inclined. Please. Also, please send me feedback. Just hit the reply button and send my a smiley-face if you laughed. Please! Oh, and I'd like to thank my beta reader Michelle Mason Bumbarger for a superb job, not just in basic editing, but also in warning my about various things that, in her words, would have gotten me lynched by various members on TPFICT. And another round of applause goes to the various members of TPDIS who were kind enough to respond to my queries about General Damon. I'm sure you'll be disappointed with me anyway. ********************** ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: AgentRacerX@cs.com Subject: TPFICT: When I Was Your Age (1/4) Date: 23 Jan 2000 17:28:26 EST See warning in part 0/1 Also, I'm not sure if this formatting works for everyone. Bug me about it i= f=20 it doesn't, and I'll repost. ************************* There was something to be said for organization, decided Megabyte. =20 Color coded sock drawers aside, knowing where your clothes were could come i= n=20 handy every now and then. He always told his mother that he knew where=20 everything was. She had eventually come to the conclusion that he kept a ma= p=20 of his room on his computer, documenting the various piles and stacks=20 scattered throughout. The fact was, though, he'd been looking for his=20 swimming trunks for the past half hour, and they had as yet to reveal their=20 whereabouts. =20 "I take it that amorphous pile of clothes contains my son." "Ha ha. Very funny Dad." He didn't bother to look up, but rather=20 continued to dig through a pile of his older clothes; the things that hadn't= =20 fit for over a year. "Should I get my gun? That sock looks like it's trying to take your nos= e=20 off." Megabyte's father, General Bill Damon, studied what was visible of hi= s=20 elder child for a moment before adding, "You might want to be careful. That= =20 green sweater has strategically position itself around your neck." "What? That thing? Don't worry about it. It was just showing me how t= o=20 perform a basic headlock." He peered up at his father for a moment. "It's=20 good to be prepared. You never know when your wardrobe might attack you=20 during the night." As an afterthought he added, "Clothes always go for your= =20 toes when you're asleep." He returned his attention to the neglected pile a= t=20 his knees. "Oh wait. I'm thinking of vampires, aren't I?" His father snorted. "I wouldn't joke about it if I were you, Marmaduke.= =20 Considering how rarely you bother to put anything in the hamper, I wouldn't=20 be terribly surprised if your pants had the ability to walk on their own." "It's when the ties learn to fasten themselves that you gotta start=20 worrying, though, Dad." He flung an unidentifiable piece of fuzzy brown=20 cloth behind himself, where it joined several of its compatriots in an ever=20 growing pile. His father eyed it distastefully. "You're not bringing that to Africa,=20 are you?" "Huh?" Megabyte followed his father's gaze. "Oh, hell no. That hasn't= =20 fit me since I was ten. Remember, Grandmom Maggie gave it to me. It was=20 when she was going through her 'I think my grandson should dress like a monk= '=20 phase." He bent to study something at the bottom of the clothes heap. =20 "Found it!" "Found what?" "My swimming trunks." He dangled the blue shorts from one hand. "Aren't those several years old?" "Yeah, well, maybe if you could get a job somewhere that it doesn't rain= =20 all the time I'd have a reason to get some new ones." "It does not rain all the time, Megabyte." Megabyte pretended to consider this for a moment. "You're right," he=20 conceded after a moment. "It snows sometimes during the winter." His father sent him a particularly withering glare, but refused to=20 comment on the matter. "Are you almost packed?" "Uh, well, 'almost' is a relative term, Dad, and--" "Let me rephrase that, Marmaduke. Did you *start* packing?" Megabyte puffed out his cheeks for a moment in thought. "I've got my=20 swim trunks," he offered, again dangling said shorts in front of his father'= s=20 face. "I should have asked your sister to come." "See, that's what I keep saying," enthused Megabyte. "Millie would love= =20 to go to Africa. She's all into that cultural, political, attache-type=20 stuff. I'm. . . not." "You seemed happy enough to go before," his father reminded him,=20 referring to the occasion a few months earlier when Megabyte had teleported=20 to Africa with two of his fellow Tomorrow People for lunch. "That's only because I was breaking several of the international=20 immigration laws at the time." His father didn't look like he doubted it for a moment. "I'm sure." He= =20 extricated a plastic bottle from one of his pockets. "At least take these=20 this time." He tossed the bottle across the room. "Just one, for now." Megabyte caught the bottle of malaria vaccine deftly, and duly popped on= e=20 into his mouth. =20 "Careful, Junior. I said swallow it, not inhale it." "Don't call me that," came the automatic reply. =20 His father waited for the fit of coughing, which resulted as Megabyte=20 attempted to speak while swallowing the pill dry, to run its course. "You=20 okay?" "Peachy," Megabyte wheezed. "Great. You've got half an hour to finish packing." ********************************************* General Damon watched blearily as his son darted through the press of=20 people filling the airport. Despite his almost constant whining and=20 complaining, Megabyte was unnecessarily chipper. He'd slept during the=20 second leg of the trip, while Bill nursed cup after cup of coffee. Now, watching as the redhead practically bounced towards the baggage=20 pickup, he was beginning to regret his beverage choice. His eyes felt=20 grainy, and he was sure they were crisscrossed by spidery red veins. To mak= e=20 matters worse, he was fairly certain that something had died in his mouth an= d=20 was currently being buried with a seven gun salute in the depths of his=20 stomach. "Dad?" Bill blinked blearily. Was it possible to get a hangover from coffee an= d=20 sleep deprivation? Apparently. "Dad?" =20 The voice was more insistent this time, and Bill winced slightly. "Hey, Dad, you dead or something?" Bill finally turned his head to look down at his son. He was reasonably= =20 certain he could feel the vertebrae in his neck grinding against one another= =20 as he did so. 'Respond,' something in the back of his brain ordered. =20 'What?' he thought back at it. 'Say something to the kid, dammit!' Bill=20 cleared his throat heavily, and grimaced. "No, I'm not quite dead yet," he=20 assured his son in a pained British falsetto. Where had *that* come from? Megabyte stared at him blankly for a moment before bursting into=20 laughter. "Geez, Dad, when you start quoting Monty Python I know it's time=20 to worry. You sure you're okay?" Bill swallowed the response he had in mind, deciding that his fellow=20 travelers probably wouldn't appreciate it. "We need to go get the baggage." "Been there, done that, bought the t-shirt." Megabyte pointed to the=20 three bags resting at his feet. "I sorta wish they hadn't stored mine with=20 the elephants, though." Bill attempted to follow his son's apparent non-sequitur. 'Elephants. .= =20 . Oh.' The green duffel bag was looking decidedly deflated. "I'll be sure= =20 to register a complaint," he muttered. =20 Bending over, he grabbed his carry-on bag in one hand and gripped the=20 larger of the two remaining bags in the other. Megabyte followed suit,=20 slinging his own battered duffel bag over one shoulder with the strap across= =20 his chest. "Hey Dad, you really are looking pretty out of it. D'you want some=20 coffee or something?" =20 *************************************** What was it about orange juice, wondered Megabyte, that allowed it to=20 never be the same color. Usually it was a vibrant orangeish-yellow color,=20 but this glass had a decidedly wan quality to it. Chemical. Well, maybe no= t=20 completely, but there were probably enough preservatives in it to mummify=20 someone sans bandages. He swirled the glass around, watching as the small=20 chunks of ice bounced off one another, no doubt diluting what was obviously=20 made from a concentrate. One of the pieces splintered against another,=20 sending off tiny shards of ice which danced around one another, blending int= o=20 a multicolored=96 'Whoa!' Megabyte shook his head and blinked a few times before looking at the=20 glass again. Normal ice. Normal orange juice. Aside from the large=20 chemical component, of course. He glared at the offending object before=20 placing it firmly on the table in front of him. Perhaps a bit too firmly. A sudden bugle of a laugh caused him to jump several inches into the air= .=20 "Now, young man, what did that glass ever do to you?" =20 Megabyte raised his gaze to that of the balding, bearded man sitting=20 across from him. 'Cue Ball,' his rather unhelpful internal voice supplied.=20= =20 He smiled wanly at the officious gentleman. "If you'd heard what it just=20 said, you would have been over here helping me," he declared, totally=20 deadpan. It was easy to be deadpan when everyone you were eating dinner wit= h=20 were so lacking of energy that they seemed to leech it right out of you. Out of the corner of his eye, Megabyte could see his father smiling into= =20 a glass of red wine. His father apparently shared his opinion that Cue Ball= ,=20 for he couldn't seem to remember any of these guy's real names, had been a=20 real pain in the ass all evening. He was obnoxious, officious,=20 condescending, and. . . why couldn't he use vocabulary like this when he was= =20 in school?=20 Cue Ball studied him for a moment, and Megabyte found himself toying wit= h=20 his cummerbund self-consciously. God, he hated these things. He hated=20 tuxedos. He hated banquet dinners where middle-aged men hung out together,=20 supposedly for official purposes, and then proceeded to do nothing but eat,=20 drink, and tell bad jokes. It still escaped him why his father had been=20 invited in the first place. The banquet wasn't officially government=20 sponsored or anything-- it had more of a laid-back atmosphere, supposedly=20 just a sort of bizarre get-together-- but still, the old man hadn't worked=20 for the US government for several years. World Ex had wanted to send a=20 representative, though, and the well-traveled, American vice president of th= e=20 company had apparently been their first choice. And his son. Lucky him. =20 Children were handy things to have around, when it came to politics. They=20 looked good. Especially when they were old enough to participate in=20 intelligent conversation, but young enough so that everyone could look down=20 their noses at them. Megabyte knew this, his father knew this, and apparently, everyone else=20 at the dinner knew it too. The one redeeming aspect of the whole thing was=20 watching his father act utterly superior, without any of the guys knowing=20 what had hit 'em. =20 His father had about as much respect for all this as he did. "Well, what exactly did it say?" asked Cue Ball. "Huh?" Eloquent, Megabyte. Very eloquent. Why was his dad so good at=20 this? "The glass. What did it say that was so to your disliking?" Cue Ball=20 gave a saccharine smile. Oops. Nothing like getting your bluff called. He glanced at his father= ,=20 but it was fairly obvious he wouldn't be getting any help from that corner o= f=20 the ring. The elder Damon, like all of the other men at the banquet, was =20 somewhat 'deep in his cups,' as Shakespeare would have said. In fact,=20 realized Megabyte, he was probably the only stone-cold sober guy in the whol= e=20 place. =20 Then why exactly was Cue Ball's head looking shinier and shinier? =20 Megabyte grimaced as the man's features blended into a uniform, white sheen.= =20 Not much of a reach, by any means, but it still couldn't be a good sign if h= e=20 were hallucinating at all. Megabyte cleared his throat, attempting to avoid picking up an imaginary= =20 pool stick and poking the guy in the middle of his shiny forehead. "It=20 said," God, he was never going to live this down, "that it is way past my=20 bedtime and that I should be upstairs and in bed." Well, it was as graceful= =20 a dismissal as any, wasn't it? Smiling serenely, he stood and, with a slight bow from the waist, left=20 the banquet hall, attempting to ignore the noises following him which sounde= d=20 suspiciously like his father trying to expel a mouthful of red wine through=20 his nose. There must have been something in the food. That was the only=20 explanation. Maybe in the orange juice. No one else had been drinking it.=20= =20 Had he been targeted? Either way, the steady pulse which appeared to be=20 running along the walls of the hallway was in no way helping his state of=20 mind. {Adam!} he 'pathed desperately. **************************** ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: AgentRacerX@cs.com Subject: TPFICT: When I Was Your Age (2/4) Date: 23 Jan 2000 17:39:09 EST See warning in part 0/4 *********************** Adam Newman, Tomorrow Person, med-student, and Australian guy with really nice hair surreptitiously stripped off a pair of latex gloves and tossed them into a nearby trash can. He had, he hoped, slipped out of his class with similar stealth. He'd always disliked dissections anyway. Turning around in a full circle, he took in his surroundings. After denying the urge to let forth a low whistle of admiration, he made his way over to the front desk. He'd been able to track Megabyte to the lobby from the earlier telepathic cry, but hadn't managed to establish contact since. As a result, he didn't have any idea of where to find his friend. The man behind the desk smiled at him benignly. "Hello. How may I help you, sir?" he queried in faultless, though heavily accented English. Sir. Well, there was a first time for everything. "Hi. I'm looking for a friend of mine. He and his father are here attending the meeting. His name is Marmaduke Damon, his father is General William Damon." The man tapped obligingly at the computer for several moments before looking up. "Yes, I have them here. I haven't been authorized to give out their room number, though." "Could you call them? I assume General Damon is still at the banquet, so only my friend would be upstairs." The man looked at him skeptically for a moment. "Please," added Adam. "It's an emergency." 'I think.' The man watched him for another moment before nodding, his mind apparently made up. He reached for the phone on his desk and, settling the receiver in the crook of his neck, proceeded to dial. Adam watched a puzzled expression cross his face, but refrained from saying anything. After a moment, the man replaced the phone and then checked something on the computer. Frowning, he turned his attention back to Adam. "It must be off the hook. The line is busy, but there's no outgoing call from the room. They're all rooted through our computer system." Adam tapped the thumb of his right hand against the desk for a moment. "I really need to know his room number." "You think something might be wrong?" asked the man. At Adam's nod, he added, "I could call security if you like." "No, it's probably nothing like that." Megabyte was going to kill him if he ever found out about this. Either that or laugh his arse off. "You see," he leaned forward conspiratorially, "My friend is prone to bouts of. . . depression. I just think it would be a good idea to check in on him. He shouldn't be left alone for too long, you understand." The man nodded slowly in understanding. "Yes, of course sir." He glanced at the computer screen. "Room 89 on the fifteenth floor." Adam smiled graciously. "Thank you, you've been a terrific help." He started to walk toward the elevators, but then turned back, as though he'd suddenly realized something. Leaning in again, he glanced around and then said, in a lowered voice, "This is going to be our secret, isn't it? It wouldn't look good if any of this got out." "Of course sir." The man was positively beaming at the prospect. He'd probably tell all his friends the second he went off duty. Adam smiled again and added a wink for good measure before heading for the elevators. ************************************ The room, though certainly on the more expensive end of the spectrum, wasn't much different from any of the other hotels Adam had visited. Well, admittedly there was the fact that all the lights were set to motion censors and had immediately turned on when he pulled open one of the closet doors. But aside from that . . . There was a large TV in the middle of one wall, drawers on either side of it. A large of expanse of windows, with blinds pulled, stretched along another wall. Next to the closet there was a small refrigerator and a safe. There were also two double beds, with a small night stand between them. And on the night stand: the telephone. Or what was left of it anyway. The rubber covering the wires which connected the receiver to the machine had melted away in certain places, as had the plastic shell of the phone. There were a series of black, zig-zagging burn marks which seemed to radiate from one spot on the handle. Little bits of circuitry and wire were visible through various holes. All in all, Adam could easily understand why it wasn't working: someone didn't want it to. Either that or the hotel was prone to freak lightning storms. "Megabyte?" he called cautiously. There was no response. For good measure, he bent over to check under both beds. Nothing there. Running a hand through his shoulder length hair, he spun in a circle, frustrated. It was then that he noticed the thin sliver of light coming from beneath the bathroom door. "Megabyte?" he called again. He put his ear to the door and knocked. There were no signs of life from within, so he turned the doorknob and let himself in. Adam wouldn't have been the least surprised to learn that his heart had actually stopped beating for a moment before resuming at a significantly higher rate. A jacket, tie, and pair of leather shoes were piled carelessly in the middle of the floor. The rest of the tuxedo remained on their owner, who was completely submerged, eyes closed, in the bathtub. 'No air bubbles,' noted some detached part of Adam's mind, as he fell to his knees next to the tub, not noticing the hard marble floor beneath them. {Megabyte!} he screamed telepathically. There was a sudden explosion of sound and water as the soaking wet young man bolted upright, in the process both swallowing and inhaling several mouthfuls of water. He gaped at Adam, who was staring at him, hoping that his heart didn't decide to simply give out. "Geez, give a guy a heart attack, why don't you," Megabyte exclaimed, after spitting out several ounces of bathwater. Adam continued to stare mutely at his friend,. "Come on, Adam, spit it out. You look like I feel. And it's not like I snuck up behind you and screamed at the top of my lungs. Brains. Whatever." After a few more moments, Adam finally sputtered back to life. "What the hell is going on, Megabyte?!" The redhead studied his companion for a moment, clearly surprised by the outburst, before beginning. "Well, I think someone put something in my food. It's like I've been drugged or something. I keep hallucinating, and my abilities aren't working right. I'm having a hard time controlling them. That's why I couldn't talk to you telepathically." "What happened to the phone?" "That," sighed Megabyte, "is why I'm in the bathtub." At Adam's blank stare, he elaborated, "The water seems to be putting a damper on my powers." Understanding dawned for elder the Tomorrow Person. "*You* did *that* to the phone?" Megabyte gave him a sickly smile. "Nice piece of work, huh? It would have been really cool, if I didn't think my dad was going to make me pay for it. Now, being as you're the dutiful doctor guy, I would like you to figure out what the hell is wrong with me." Adam blinked a few times and then stared at the marble tiles, realizing for the first time how much his knees hurt. Megabyte reclined back in the tub while he waited. After a moment, he reached for the hot water handle and Adam watched in amazement as miniature arcs of red lightning danced along it. A moment later, the lights in the bathroom fizzled and went out. "Crap." ****************************** Bubbles were pretty. They were shiny, round, and, well, bubbly. Megabyte let loose a short stream of them from his mouth and watched as they spiraled around one another. Wonderful fun, this. He opened his mouth wide, expelling one large, rather spectacular example. It wobbled on its way to the surface, stretching in various directions. In fact, it looked almost like. . . a chicken?! No, wait, that couldn't be right. And the fact that the damned thing was fast approaching his nose with apparent murderous intent was downright disturbing. Fortunately for Megabyte's nose, Adam chose that moment to burst into the darkened bathroom. Megabyte sat upright in the tub, surreptitiously checking for psychotic chickens. If Adam noticed this, he refrained from commenting. Instead, he tossed a small white bottle at his friend, who caught the object between wet hands. "This is my malaria vaccine," he noted. "Read the warning label," instructed Adam. The younger Tomorrow Person obligingly turned the bottle over and began to read. "'Do not consume alcohol while taking this medication. The combination has been known cause mild hallucinations.' Imagine that." "Did you have anything to drink at dinner or on the plane?" "Yeah, orange juice. Evil, chemical orange juice." Adam rolled his eyes. "Anything alcoholic, Megabyte." Megabyte snorted. "Young Mister Damon," he began, in a parody of someone with a Southern US accent. "Watch yourself there. Not quite old enough to be drinking yet, I do believe. You'll have to be waiting a couple o' more years, son." Adam studied him for a moment. "I'll take that as a no, then." Megabyte snorted again in response. Sighing, the Australian lowered the toilette cover and sat on it. Megabyte dissolved into a fit of giggles at the image it presented and Adam shot him a mildly irritated look before speaking. "I know that a lot of people have unusually vivid dreams when they use this form malaria vaccine, even without the alcohol. Maybe you're more sensitive to it because you're a Tomorrow Person." Megabyte considered this. "Guess it's a good thing you didn't have time to take any, huh?" Adam went several shades paler. "You didn't take it. . . did you?" "Well, I- I didn't take this kind specifically." "So it won't have the same effects, right?" Adam cringed. "Actually, since I didn't have time to work up resistance to it like you did, I just took a stronger form of the same stuff." Megabyte digested this information. "So, while I'm seeing a few pretty colors here and there, you're going to be tripping with the Bradys?" Blank stare. "Sorry, really bad movie reference. What I meant to ask is are you going to think you're a fifty foot long dragon that flies around roasting pretty, rainbow colored trees, which immediately grow back, because it would be perfectly awful if anything that pretty gets singed." "Something like that." "Fun. I wish I'd brought my camcorder." Megabyte retreated back into his thoughts, sloshing the water around absent-mindedly. Adam studied the marble flooring again. The sloshing stopped suddenly. "Uh-oh." The Australian looked up. "My dad." "What about him?" "When I left the banquet, he was sorta tipsy. I'm guessing that at this point he's drunk as a skunk," explained Megabyte. Adam considered this for a moment. "I'll go get him." "You do that. I'll be here when you get back. Unless, of course, I'm soaring across the countryside, toasting baobab trees." ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "BUMBARGER,MICHELLE" Subject: TPFICT: Sort-of Sequel Posted Date: 23 Jan 2000 17:44:43 -0500 For those of you whom are interested, there is a sequel of sorts, (really a short vignette) to "A Union of Souls" posted at my fan fiction archive. It's called "Lies of Omission" and it's a Buffy/Giles piece which deals with Giles' return to Sunnydale. I can't post it here because it's not really TP-centered, although it is part of the Shadows & Light serial. The URL is http://www.jaggededge.pair.com/ and the story can be found in the "Shadows & Light" Archive. (Pay close attention, there's also a Timeline and some polls!) Have fun! ******** Michele B. Author, Archivist & Webmistress Jagged Edge Fan Fiction Archive http://www.jaggededge.pair.com ******** ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "Hately, Shaun" Subject: TPFICT: The Visitor Date: 24 Jan 2000 09:56:30 +1100 Some time ago, over a period of time, I sent the Tomorrow People novel, The Visitor, to the list. Does anyone still have those mails? If so, please let me know - I lost a lot when my hard drive died last year and it looks like that missed being backed up. Shaun CAUTION This e-mail and any files transmitted with it are privileged and confidential information intended for the use of the addressee. The confidentiality and/or privilege in this e-mail is not waived, lost or destroyed if it has been transmitted to you in error. If you received this e-mail in error you must (a) not disseminate, copy or take any action in reliance on it; (b) please notify Australia Post immediately by return e-mail to the sender; (c) please delete the original e-mail. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: AgentRacerX@cs.com Subject: TPFICT: When I Was Your Age (3/4) Date: 23 Jan 2000 18:36:03 EST See warning in part 0/4 *********************************** General Damon was not, contrary to what his son had said, drunk as a skunk. He certainly wasn't sober, but then again, these things were all relative, weren't they? Aside from the fact that the wall paper was moving, he felt fine. Not that he was upset that Adam had yanked him away from the banquet, citing an "emergency." First of all, the entire ordeal had been terrifically boring. Second, one did not want to be tripping, however slightly, in that type of situation. "General Damon, why don't you just sit down in this chair, and I'll go get Megabyte." "I'm fine, Adam. You really don't need to worry." "You weren't acting too fine downstairs," Adam muttered under his breath. "What was that?" "Nothing, General." Bill glared at him for a moment. It was at that point that he noticed that his aforementioned son was nowhere to be seen. "Where is Megabyte?" "In the bathtub." "And why is he in the bathtub?" Adam stared rather pointedly at the phone. General Damon grimaced, mentally running over the information Adam had shared with him on their way upstairs. "So, because he's a Tomorrow Person, his body chemistry is reacting in an unusual way with the type of malaria vaccine that all three of us are on, and, as a result, he's frying random pieces of electrical equipment." After mulling this over for a moment, Adam nodded. "There's also the fact that you're having a reaction to the vaccine as well because you consumed alcohol, but yes, that's about the size of it." "It might be a good idea to get you guys to World Ex's medical facility so you can be kept under observation." Adam appeared horrified at the idea. "You want to study us?" "No, I want to make sure my son doesn't accidently set off any nuclear warheads." "Oh." Apparently mollified, Adam chewed on his lower lip. "Well, you see, there's a bit of a problem with that." General Damon motioned for him to continue. "I'm not sure how reliable our teleportation is at the moment. The way Megabyte's going, he might end up on the dark side of the moon." "Can't have that, now can we," sighed the General. There was a moment of awkward silence as they each studied the other. "Adam, are you starting to hallucinate?" Adam shook his head. "No. Not yet, anyway. How are you doing?" General Damon drew his eyebrows down and studied the bedspread for a moment. "I used to," he started, then stopped. "When I was," he tried again. "Yes?" prompted Adam. Bill glared at him for a moment and then sighed. "Before I was drafted in the late sixties, I was part of the whole, er, 'drugs, sex, and rock and roll' movement. I wasn't much of a fan of the drugs part, but I did use them occasionally." At this point, he glanced up to see Adam watching him with a rather disapproving look. He chose to ignore it. "Anyway," he continued, "the few times I tried LSD, if there were any plants around, they would all start belting out this great song by The Who." This admission was greeted by a blank stare. "They were a popular group," he explained. "Don't kids these days know anything?" "So, what you're saying is that this," Adam pointed an accusing finger at a spider plant resting on the windowsill, "is singing old sixties music." Bill nodded. "And, to be more specific, it's singing music by a group called Who?" "The Who," Bill corrected out of habit. "And no, at this point it's moved on to Aretha Franklin." At the Australian's raised eyebrows he added, "You see those little cactuses behind it? They're singing backup." This fact heralded a loud explosion of laughter from the doorway of the bathroom. General Damon spun around to eye his redheaded son, still dressed in various parts of his tuxedo, soaked from head to toe. "Marmaduke, do you have any idea how much that tux cost?!" Still choking on laughter, Megabyte shook his head. "No, but I'm guessing you're going to tell me." General Damon attempted to bore a hole through his son's head with his eyes. "Well, before you do, Dad, allow me to remind you that no matter what, you will be paying for it." "And why is that exactly?" "Blackmail." "You wouldn't dare." Megabyte smiled serenely. "You would," sighed his father. ******************************** General Damon really liked the Rolling Stones. He had just finished watching a rousing performance on the part of the spider plant of "Sympathy for the Devil." Unfortunately, if the damned thing started dancing like Mick Jagger again, he was fairly certain he'd die laughing. Adam was still watching him distrustfully after that last time. As the leafy lead singer continued to scream about painting faces black, General Damon thought he heard something strange in the background. If only that stupid cactus wasn't having so much fun on the sitar. . . This was why he hated drugs. No off switch. Well, that and the fact that they weren't terrifically healthy. In mild irritation, he brought his fist down on the bedside table with a resounding thump. The music stopped with a squeal vaguely reminiscent of an old record player. 'Well, you never know until you try,' he thought to himself. Without anymore noise to distract him, General Damon sat upright and scanned the room. Adam, seated on the other double bed, was staring at the door to the bathroom in bewilderment. "What's going on?" asked Bill. Adam shook his head, but didn't answer. There issued forth another round of noises from the bathtub, including a startled yelp and loud splashing. "Megabyte?" called Adam, vaguely alarmed. His only response was a renewed chorus of splashing and a stifled scream. For all his extra years, General Damon was off his bed and across the room, peering cautiously through the door before Adam had even gotten to his feet. His son was thrashing about in the tub, eyes wide with terror. Bill reached for him and managed to pull him to his feet, only to be shoved away violently. "Megabyte?" His son pinned him with an uncomprehending stare and, remembering the fate of the telephone, Bill felt it wise to beat a hasty retreat out of the room. On his way, he backed into Adam, who was watching the scene with a mixture of curiosity and horror. "He's having what's known as a bad trip," explained General Damon, still backpedaling. "He can't hurt you, you know. His powers are only affecting things with circuitry and, unless there's something I should know, that doesn't include you." Despite his own words, Adam too continued to back away from the bathroom. A moment later, Megabyte appeared in the doorway. His eyes were still wide, and his chest was heaving heavily, but he didn't have the same sort of terrified expression. "Megabyte?" tried General Damon. The Tomorrow Person only shook his head. General Damon stepped forward and put his hands on his son's shoulders. "Megabyte, whatever it was, it wasn't real. It's just the malaria vaccine." He received several blink in answer, but there appeared to be understanding in the boy's eyes. Shrugging off his father's hands, Megabyte walked to the middle of the room, where he stopped, and turned around in a slow circle. When he was facing his father and friend again, he ran a hand through his wet hair and gave a sickly smile. "Well, that was fun," he said dryly. General Damon sighed in relief at the sarcastic tones. It was short-lived, though, because at that moment a series of red lightning bolts arced away from his son towards the television set. There was a bright spark of static electricity and the machine turned on. Megabyte seemed to be oblivious to what was going on. The picture gradually came into focus. A bathtub. The bathtub Megabyte had been in, actually. A socked foot, dripping water, came into view on the right side of the screen and reached for the hot water faucet. It kicked the knob a few inches up and the set emitted a low rumbling sound, like water trying to work it's way through clogged pipes. General Damon exchanged a puzzled look with Adam at this point. "I think it's what Megabyte saw," explained the Tomorrow Person. General Damon nodded and turned his attention back to the set. Something was coming out of the faucet. Something black, sleek, and most definitely not water. Bill gasped as the snake coiled upwards, looping its long body around the faucet, flicking it's pink tongue towards him. The view point changed suddenly, moving forward, and a wet hand reached for the hot water knob, frantically grabbing it and trying to turn it off. The knob broke off in the hand as another snake, this one a sickly green, freed itself from the faucet. Yet another could be seen peeking out of the hole where the hot water knob used to be. There was a sloshing noise, as the image jerked back from the faucet, but then suddenly stopped. It panned down to show a wrist, with a long snake coiled tightly around it, stretched out across the length of the tub to where its tail was wrapped around the faucet. Another snake was looping itself around a pair of legs, which kicked frantically in protest. Suddenly, the image shifted again, pulling up to a bird's eye view. It panned around in a circle, revealing what had to be the largest boa constrictor Adam had ever seen. The beast was balanced upright, yards and yards of coil piled on the floor behind it. Hands reached out into the picture and shoved the snake, sending it flying backwards through the doorframe. The image flickered off suddenly, drawing General Damon's attention back to his son. Megabyte was standing ramrod straight, his skin a pasty white, blinking rapidly to clear away the water that was steadily dripping into his eyes. Bill started towards him, but stopped as the television exploded, raining down bits of broken glass, plastic, and wire. Megabyte startled at the sound, jumping several inches in the air. Adam darted forward, gripping his friend tightly by the arms. "Megabyte, no!" he shouted. "You have to stop!" The VCR was the next to go, shattering. Megabyte ripped out of his friend's grasp and stared at it, backing away, breath coming in short, wheezing gasps. "General, he's going to teleport!" Adam shouted desperately. "Can't you stop him?" "No!" General Damon took one look at the perpetually collected Tomorrow Person's terror stricken face and made up his mind. He snapped instantly into the mode he'd used so often while working for the US government. Grabbing the television remote, he ran forward and wrapped one arm around his son's trembling form. He used the other to rap the boy sharply on the temple with the remote. Megabyte's struggles ceased instantly as he pitched forward. Bill caught him easily and scooped him up over one shoulder. "Call the others," he ordered Adam, while placing his son carefully on one of the beds. "Have them bring enough tranquilizer to keep both of you down for at least ten minutes. I don't need you trying to teleport out of here as well. When you're unconscious, they'll take us to the World Ex medical facilities where you'll both be put on IV drips until you're no longer a danger to yourselves or anyone else." The voice he'd used allowed no objections, but Adam simply blinked, with a distracted look on his face. General Damon noted the Australian's pale complexion and the sweat dotting his brow. "Now!" he roared, stepping forward. He moved into the boy's personal space, using his greater height and bulk to his advantage. Adam jerked back automatically and looked up at him with a frightened expression. "Call them, now!" Damon yelled again. This time, Adam nodded and darted out of the hotel room, hopefully in search of a telephone. Bill watched this critically. "And don't you dare go into shock," he called after him. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: AgentRacerX@cs.com Subject: TPFICT: When I Was Your Age (4/4) Date: 23 Jan 2000 18:43:27 EST See warning in part 0/4. ***************************** General Damon groaned as he woke up. The lights were much too bright and someone seemed to have turned on a wind tunnel nearby. No, that was his breathing, wasn't it? Well, he had one hell of a hangover, that much was for certain. "Welcome back to the land of the living, Dad. I hope you enjoyed your stay in the lovely Hotel Booze. You're feeling well-rested, I hope?" The voice was clipped and British. And it had called him Dad. "Millicent?" His daughter sighed theatrically and rolled her eyes. "Yes, Dad, it's me." She smiled at him. "Are you feeling alright? You don't look too great." "I don't feel too great," he muttered. "How long have I been out?" "Oh, I don't know." Millicent appeared to consider this for a moment. "Day and a half?" General Damon groaned as he swung his legs over the side of the bed, sending his head spinning. 'Hospital bed,' his mind supplied. But what was he doing in a-- "Where's Marmaduke?" he demanded sharply, suddenly remembering what had happened. "Yes, I guess you're alright, then." Millicent tossed her strawberry blond hair behind one shoulder. "He's down the hall, resting. He and Adam are fine. Or will be, when they wake up, anyway." "I was in there when I fell asleep. What happened?" "It got too crowded," she explained. "Mom and I wheeled you down the hall." Bill looked around for the first time, taking in his surroundings. "Millicent, why is this bed lodged in the doorway?" His daughter blushed. "Well, it sort of got stuck." "Sort of?" "Alright, it really got stuck," she amended. General Damon sighed heavily and drew a hand across his face. "Come on, Dad, let's go see them. They should be up in a little while." They walked down the hall together, Bill trying desperately not to lean against his daughter's shoulder. That just wouldn't do. Of course, he had to keep some contact, being as he couldn't see much while squinting against the unfortunate glare of the halogen lights on white linoleum. At the end of the hall he pushed open the door, wincing at the loud squeak it emitted. "There's no one in here with them," he stated, taking in the still forms in the two beds. "They shouldn't have been left alone." "I was watching them, until I heard you banging around down the hall." "Watching Adam, you mean." Millicent blushed again and shoved him hard. "Dad! Stop it." "Stop what?" queried a sleepy voice. Father and daughter turned to regard the newest wakeful presence in the room, who was blearily knuckling at his eyes. Millicent scurried over to his side, apparently happy for the distraction from her father's teasing. "Why, good morning, Marmaduke. My darling brother. My *dearest* brother," she sang. Megabyte buried his head beneath a pillow. "Shut your trap, you little hellion," he growled. Millicent bounced closer and shook his shoulder. Harder than was necessary. "Wakey, wakey, Marmaduke. The sun's up, it's time to rise and shine. . ." she continued. The pillow fell to the floor as Megabyte wrenched his body upright, smiling beatifically. "My sweet sister, Millicent," he responded in kind and stretched his arms out. "Come, give your elder brother a hug." Millicent's eyebrows shot up and disappeared beneath her bangs in surprise. Before she had a chance to protest, Megabyte had enveloped her in a bearhug and was proceeding to rub the top of her head with the heal of his hand, mussing her hair. "That," he declared, "is what you get for singing to me at this ungodly hour." She finally managed to extricate herself and glared at him. "It's three in the afternoon, Megabyte. And you should never, ever touch my hair," she added dangerously. "Children," interrupted General Damon, before things could escalate any further, "let's play nice, alright." Two identical pairs of blue eyes turned to glare at him, and he shifted his weight uncomfortably. He'd just made an unfortunate strategical error. "Do the two of them ever give it a rest?" asked a new voice. Bill sighed inwardly in relief as his daughter was, once again, deterred. "Adam!" Millicent shouted gleefully. Megabyte rolled his eyes. 'Geek,' he mouthed at his father. Bill mimed mock-outrage. "Hi, Millicent," Adam chuckled, ignoring the exchange between father and son. Millicent bounced over to him and began to chatter about something thoroughly inane, with Adam nodding or shaking his head at the appropriate times. After watching the situation with a bemused expression for a moment, General Damon felt inclined to interrupt. He cleared his throat. "Adam?" "Yes, General?" Bill frowned slightly. "When you came to get me, down in the banquet hall. . ." he trailed off as Adam winced. "Was I acting strangely at all?" Running a hand through his long hair, Adam studied the bedspread for a moment. "Well, there was a man there. Bald, with a beard and southern US accent." Megabyte snorted. "Cue Ball." Bill shook his head. "I was thinking more along the lines of a beluga whale, actually." Adam coughed loudly at this point. "What?" asked General Damon. "Well, you were sort of chasing him around the banquet hall. . ." General Damon sank into the nearest chair. "Holding a wooden spoon over your head. . ." He groaned. "Screaming, 'Call me Ishmael,' at the top of your lungs." Megabyte went into a spasm of laughter at this point, his sister joining him after a moment. Adam looked suspiciously like he was hiding a smile, as well. General Damon waited for the amusement to run his course before shaking his finger at the two Tomorrow People. "Well, I hope that the two of you learned something from all this." Adam nodded, his expression turning solemn. "Yes, General." "And you, Marmaduke?" "Sure thing, Dad. I learned the value of good diplomatic skills. Why, you never know when trying to spear some guy with a mixing spoon at a political banquet will come in handy." "Megabyte. . ." "Yeah, Dad?" "Shut up." ***************************** I apologize for the supreme weirdness of this story. Please send comments and accusations about how I'm one of those people polluting the youth of the planet to AgentRacerX@cs.com. Actually, I'm a member of the youth of the planet, but I suppose that's besides the point. One other thing. I exaggerated General Damon's response to the malaria vaccine & alcohol mixture for humor's sake. Apparently it varies among individuals, but what I wrote is just plain ridiculous. Disclaimer: Eek! Forgot this in the first part. Grr. Megabyte Damon, General William Damon, and Adam Newman, "The Tomorrow People," and the concepts that go with belong to Roger Damon Price, Thames Tetra Television, Nickelodeon, and ITV, who treated them much better than I do. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: AgentRacerX@cs.com Subject: TPFICT: repost When I Was Your Age (3/4) Date: 23 Jan 2000 19:08:57 EST I caught one line that I forgot to change before, and just couldn't stand looking at it. Sorry, I'm being compulsive. See warning in part 0/4 *********************************** General Damon was not, contrary to what his son had said, drunk as a skunk. He certainly wasn't sober, but then again, these things were all relative, weren't they? Aside from the fact that the wall paper was moving, he felt fine. Not that he was upset that Adam had yanked him away from the banquet, citing an "emergency." First of all, the entire ordeal had been terrifically boring. Second, one did not want to be tripping, however slightly, in that type of situation. "General Damon, why don't you just sit down in this chair, and I'll go get Megabyte." "I'm fine, Adam. You really don't need to worry." He heard Adam muttering something sarcastic in response. "What was that?" "Nothing, General." Bill glared at him for a moment. It was at that point that he noticed that his aforementioned son was nowhere to be seen. "Where *is* Megabyte?" "In the bathtub." "And why is he in the bathtub?" Adam stared rather pointedly at the phone. General Damon grimaced, mentally running over the information Adam had shared with him on their way upstairs. "So, because he's a Tomorrow Person, his body chemistry is reacting in an unusual way with the type of malaria vaccine that all three of us are on, and, as a result, he's frying random pieces of electrical equipment." After mulling this over for a moment, Adam nodded. "There's also the fact that you're having a reaction to the vaccine as well because you consumed alcohol, but yes, that's about the size of it." "It might be a good idea to get you guys to World Ex's medical facility so you can be kept under observation." Adam appeared horrified at the idea. "You want to study us?" "No, I want to make sure my son doesn't accidently set off any nuclear warheads." "Oh." Apparently mollified, Adam chewed on his lower lip. "Well, you see, there's a bit of a problem with that." General Damon motioned for him to continue. "I'm not sure how reliable our teleportation is at the moment. The way Megabyte's going, he might end up on the dark side of the moon." "Can't have that, now can we," sighed the General. There was a moment of awkward silence as they each studied the other. "Adam, are you starting to hallucinate?" Adam shook his head. "No. Not yet, anyway. How are you doing?" General Damon drew his eyebrows down and studied the bedspread for a moment. "I used to," he started, then stopped. "When I was," he tried again. "Yes?" prompted Adam. Bill glared at him for a moment and then sighed. "Before I was drafted in the late sixties, I was part of the whole, er, 'drugs, sex, and rock and roll' movement. I wasn't much of a fan of the drugs part, but I did use them occasionally." At this point, he glanced up to see Adam watching him with a rather disapproving look. He chose to ignore it. "Anyway," he continued, "the few times I tried LSD, if there were any plants around, they would all start belting out this great song by The Who." This admission was greeted by a blank stare. "They were a popular group," he explained. "Don't kids these days know anything?" "So, what you're saying is that this," Adam pointed an accusing finger at a spider plant resting on the windowsill, "is singing old sixties music." Bill nodded. "And, to be more specific, it's singing music by a group called Who?" "The Who," Bill corrected out of habit. "And no, at this point it's moved on to Aretha Franklin." At the Australian's raised eyebrows he added, "You see those little cactuses behind it? They're singing backup." This fact heralded a loud explosion of laughter from the doorway of the bathroom. General Damon spun around to eye his redheaded son, still dressed in various parts of his tuxedo, soaked from head to toe. "Marmaduke, do you have any idea how much that tux cost?!" Still choking on laughter, Megabyte shook his head. "No, but I'm guessing you're going to tell me." General Damon attempted to bore a hole through his son's head with his eyes. "Well, before you do, Dad, allow me to remind you that no matter what, you will be paying for it." "And why is that exactly?" "Blackmail." "You wouldn't dare." Megabyte smiled serenely. "You would," sighed his father. ******************************** General Damon really liked the Rolling Stones. He had just finished watching a rousing performance on the part of the spider plant of "Sympathy for the Devil." Unfortunately, if the damned thing started dancing like Mick Jagger again, he was fairly certain he'd die laughing. Adam was still watching him distrustfully after that last time. As the leafy lead singer continued to scream about painting faces black, General Damon thought he heard something strange in the background. If only that stupid cactus wasn't having so much fun on the sitar. . . This was why he hated drugs. No off switch. Well, that and the fact that they weren't terrifically healthy. In mild irritation, he brought his fist down on the bedside table with a resounding thump. The music stopped with a squeal vaguely reminiscent of an old record player. 'Well, you never know until you try,' he thought to himself. Without anymore noise to distract him, General Damon sat upright and scanned the room. Adam, seated on the other double bed, was staring at the door to the bathroom in bewilderment. "What's going on?" asked Bill. Adam shook his head, but didn't answer. There issued forth another round of noises from the bathtub, including a startled yelp and loud splashing. "Megabyte?" called Adam, vaguely alarmed. His only response was a renewed chorus of splashing and a stifled scream. For all his extra years, General Damon was off his bed and across the room, peering cautiously through the door before Adam had even gotten to his feet. His son was thrashing about in the tub, eyes wide with terror. Bill reached for him and managed to pull him to his feet, only to be shoved away violently. "Megabyte?" His son pinned him with an uncomprehending stare and, remembering the fate of the telephone, Bill felt it wise to beat a hasty retreat out of the room. On his way, he backed into Adam, who was watching the scene with a mixture of curiosity and horror. "He's having what's known as a bad trip," explained General Damon, still backpedaling. "He can't hurt you, you know. His powers are only affecting things with circuitry and, unless there's something I should know, that doesn't include you." Despite his own words, Adam too continued to back away from the bathroom. A moment later, Megabyte appeared in the doorway. His eyes were still wide, and his chest was heaving heavily, but he didn't have the same sort of terrified expression. "Megabyte?" tried General Damon. The Tomorrow Person only shook his head. General Damon stepped forward and put his hands on his son's shoulders. "Megabyte, whatever it was, it wasn't real. It's just the malaria vaccine." He received several blink in answer, but there appeared to be understanding in the boy's eyes. Shrugging off his father's hands, Megabyte walked to the middle of the room, where he stopped, and turned around in a slow circle. When he was facing his father and friend again, he ran a hand through his wet hair and gave a sickly smile. "Well, that was fun," he said dryly. General Damon sighed in relief at the sarcastic tones. It was short-lived, though, because at that moment a series of red lightning bolts arced away from his son towards the television set. There was a bright spark of static electricity and the machine turned on. Megabyte seemed to be oblivious to what was going on. The picture gradually came into focus. A bathtub. The bathtub Megabyte had been in, actually. A socked foot, dripping water, came into view on the right side of the screen and reached for the hot water faucet. It kicked the knob a few inches up and the set emitted a low rumbling sound, like water trying to work it's way through clogged pipes. General Damon exchanged a puzzled look with Adam at this point. "I think it's what Megabyte saw," explained the Tomorrow Person. General Damon nodded and turned his attention back to the set. Something was coming out of the faucet. Something black, sleek, and most definitely not water. Bill gasped as the snake coiled upwards, looping its long body around the faucet, flicking it's pink tongue towards him. The view point changed suddenly, moving forward, and a wet hand reached for the hot water knob, frantically grabbing it and trying to turn it off. The knob broke off in the hand as another snake, this one a sickly green, freed itself from the faucet. Yet another could be seen peeking out of the hole where the hot water knob used to be. There was a sloshing noise, as the image jerked back from the faucet, but then suddenly stopped. It panned down to show a wrist, with a long snake coiled tightly around it, stretched out across the length of the tub to where its tail was wrapped around the faucet. Another snake was looping itself around a pair of legs, which kicked frantically in protest. Suddenly, the image shifted again, pulling up to a bird's eye view. It panned around in a circle, revealing what had to be the largest boa constrictor Adam had ever seen. The beast was balanced upright, yards and yards of coil piled on the floor behind it. Hands reached out into the picture and shoved the snake, sending it flying backwards through the doorframe. The image flickered off suddenly, drawing General Damon's attention back to his son. Megabyte was standing ramrod straight, his skin a pasty white, blinking rapidly to clear away the water that was steadily dripping into his eyes. Bill started towards him, but stopped as the television exploded, raining down bits of broken glass, plastic, and wire. Megabyte startled at the sound, jumping several inches in the air. Adam darted forward, gripping his friend tightly by the arms. "Megabyte, no!" he shouted. "You have to stop!" The VCR was the next to go, shattering. Megabyte ripped out of his friend's grasp and stared at it, backing away, breath coming in short, wheezing gasps. "General, he's going to teleport!" Adam shouted desperately. "Can't you stop him?" "No!" General Damon took one look at the perpetually collected Tomorrow Person's terror stricken face and made up his mind. He snapped instantly into the mode he'd used so often while working for the US government. Grabbing the television remote, he ran forward and wrapped one arm around his son's trembling form. He used the other to rap the boy sharply on the temple with the remote. Megabyte's struggles ceased instantly as he pitched forward. Bill caught him easily and scooped him up over one shoulder. "Call the others," he ordered Adam, while placing his son carefully on one of the beds. "Have them bring enough tranquilizer to keep both of you down for at least ten minutes. I don't need you trying to teleport out of here as well. When you're unconscious, they'll take us to the World Ex medical facilities where you'll both be put on IV drips until you're no longer a danger to yourselves or anyone else." The voice he'd used allowed no objections, but Adam simply blinked, with a distracted look on his face. General Damon noted the Australian's pale complexion and the sweat dotting his brow. "Now!" he roared, stepping forward. He moved into the boy's personal space, using his greater height and bulk to his advantage. Adam jerked back automatically and looked up at him with a frightened expression. "Call them, now!" Damon yelled again. This time, Adam nodded and darted out of the hotel room, hopefully in search of a telephone. Bill watched this critically. "And don't you dare go into shock," he called after him. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Jeffl1965@aol.com Subject: Re: TPFICT: repost When I Was Your Age (3/4) Date: 24 Jan 2000 08:04:44 EST Ok, I've read it all,and gotta say its pretty darn good!! :) Very Cheeky,but not as bad as ''A Man For Emily'' . :) The General is spot on,and I hope that all wil agree that he is a hopeless ''nerd'' and it will take Megabyte a long time to make him hip. :) The drunkenness wasn't all that exagerrated,as with the sleep deprevation,and his own tolerance limit does play a big factor in its influence over him. Being more worldy he could tolerate it better than a non-drinker such as Megabyte,but also with Megabytes hyperactive nature,he could actually burn off the drug quicker,or not. Its up to the individual writer's interpretation. So, I guess there is no wrong/right about this point,so dont beat yourself over the head needlessly,the other listmembers will do that, I'm sure.:) Seriously, it was well written,and a much needed tounge-in-cheek release.:) Got anymore????????? ;) Jeff ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "Kasey Thompson" Subject: Re: TPFICT: When I Was Your Age Date: 25 Jan 2000 13:59:21 EST > >Title: When I Was Your Age > >Author: Nicole Gray > This is *such* a great story. When you said it was about drugs I was afraid we were going to be treated to a sermon on the evils of drugs and "see all the bad things that will happen" lecture. It wasn't preachy or judgemental, just very, very funny. My favorite part is when the plants start singing. I want to see another story with Adam tripping! Good job including Millie(finally!) and the results of TP powers gone haywire. The bathtub scenes were hilarious! Great job. KC > ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "Shaun Hately" Subject: Re: TPFICT: When I Was Your Age Date: 26 Jan 2000 10:26:04 +1100 This is one of the most enjoyable TP stories I've read in a long time - well done. (-8 (I'm back to having time for reading them - I'll be commenting on a lot of fanfic to authors in the near future). I do have a question though - what has happened to the fanfic competition - where people voted for the favourites, etc. I haven't heard anything for a long time... Shaun ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: AgentRacerX@cs.com Subject: Re: TPFICT: When I Was Your Age Date: 25 Jan 2000 18:26:44 EST > I do have a question though - what has happened to the fanfic competition - > where people voted for the favourites, etc. I haven't heard anything for a > long time... At the archives it says that voting ends on the 31st. There's a little blurb about it if you go look. -Nicole ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "Shaun Hately" Subject: Re: TPFICT: When I Was Your Age Date: 26 Jan 2000 11:08:01 +1100 >At the archives it says that voting ends on the 31st. There's a little blurb >about it if you go look. Blimmin' heck... it would have been nice if someone had posted this onlist (or maybe they did and I missed it). The last date I saw for voting closing was December 2nd. The thing is - if I'd known we were going to have this long, my votes might have been different - I would have read everything in the archives, rather than having to rely on memory. Not everyone goes to the archives (-8 Shaun ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "Kasey Thompson" Subject: Re: TPFICT: When I Was Your Age Date: 25 Jan 2000 22:30:46 EST > > >At the archives it says that voting ends on the 31st. There's a little >blurb > >about it if you go look. > > >Blimmin' heck... it would have been nice if someone had posted this onlist >(or maybe they did and I missed it). The last date I saw for voting closing >was December 2nd. > >The thing is - if I'd known we were going to have this long, my votes might >have been different - I would have read everything in the archives, rather >than having to rely on memory. > >Not everyone goes to the archives (-8 > >Shaun > I agree with Shaun. I thought the voting was long over. Actually I thought the whole thing had been scraped. If I had known that the voting time had been extended, my votes might have been different. This is not to say that I didn't consider things carefully when I did cast my vote, but I left some categories out because I didn't have enough time to read the stories. Had I but known... Kasey ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: Wendy Kelley Subject: TPFICT: Voting Date: 26 Jan 2000 11:31:54 -0600 The voting has been extended several times because we're trying to get enough votes to represent at least the population of the list (so far only about 10% of the list constituency has voted). ... Wendy ladyslvr@xmission.com * http://www.xmission.com/~ladyslvr/ Listowner: Tomorrow People fiction and discussion lists Listowner: Sliders creative list ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "Michael Matott" Subject: Re: TPFICT: When I Was Your Age (1/4) Date: 31 Jan 2000 20:18:41 PST Finally got a chance to read this. I'll comment on the whole thing later, but had a question first: > His father didn't look like he doubted it for a moment. "I'm sure." >He >extricated a plastic bottle from one of his pockets. "At least take these >this time." He tossed the bottle across the room. "Just one, for now." > Megabyte caught the bottle of malaria vaccine deftly, and duly popped >one >into his mouth. Vaccine in pill form? I didn't think this was possible. A vaccine is usually a viral culture (live or dead) injected so that the immune system can form antibodies for the virus. Pills don't work for this sort of thing as the digestive canal provides a fairly efficient barrier. (Weird but the inner lining of your stomach, intestines, etc. are actually *outside* of your body, technically speaking.) Are you thinking of one of the anti-malarial drugs? just curious mike ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: "Michael Matott" Subject: Re: TPFICT: When I Was Your Age (2/4) Date: 31 Jan 2000 20:25:34 PST > >Adam Newman, Tomorrow Person, med-student, and Australian guy with really >nice hair This line alone gets you applause in my book. LOL. :-) mike ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com