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Date: Sun, 06 Jun 2004 23:26:35 -0400
Subject: [ASC] NEW TOS: The Lost Years: Dirty Secrets 1/3 [PG-13] Slayer Series
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Forwarded by the ASC-VSO 
Posted: 5 Jun 2004 19:40:54 -0700  
In: alt.startrek.creative 
From: djinn@djinnslair.com (Djinn) 
 

TITLE: The Lost Years: Dirty Secrets (Slayer Series)
AUTHOR: Djinn
CONTACT: djinn@djinnslair.com http://www.djinnslair.com
SERIES: TOS
RATING: PG-13
CODES: Ch, K, U, Others
PART: 1/3
SUMMARY: The eighth in the Lost Years series.



Christine searched her closet for something dark and conservative
enough for a watcher funeral.  She didn't have much to choose from:  a
couple of slinky dark dresses, her uniforms, and all her comfortable
clothes for patrolling.

She pushed the clothes around, as if she'd suddenly come up with
something in tweed.

Nothing.  There was nothing she could wear to Emma's funeral.  Why
hadn't she stopped on the way home and bought something?  Now it was
too late.

She felt tears threaten.  They came at the oddest moments.  She knew
that was how grief operated.  She'd never allowed herself to
experience it before.  Always ran from it.  Ran or killed things.  Now
she wasn't running, and there was a dearth of things to kill.  Having
an army of slayers around had seriously decimated the local vampire
population.

She sat on her bed.  Tried to think of someone who was her size who
might be able to loan her a dress.  Even just a dark skirt.

She felt a tingling and backed up quickly as a portal formed in her
bedroom.  LaVelle stepped out.  She did not look happy.

"I thought you'd be by earlier to bitch me out," Christine said,
turning back to her closet.

"I would have been, if I could have gotten the portal to bring me
here.   It would go anywhere else."

"Guess The Powers That Be didn't want you yelling at me."  Christine
gave up on the closet, sat down on the bed.

"Could you get dressed?  I don't need to see you half-naked."

Christine looked down.  She was in her underwear.  "Well, I would get
dressed.  But I don't have anything to wear."  She rubbed at her head.
 She was getting a headache.  LaVelle wasn't helping.

LaVelle glanced at the closet.  "I see clothes in there.  Put some
on."

"Look," Christine said.  "I'm sorry about hijacking the portal.  I
really am.  But I was trying to save a friend."  She decided not to
tell LaVelle that her friend was either her watcher or a vampire who
used to be the worst kind of watcher.  LaVelle was not big on
watchers.

"Did you save your friend?"

Christine shook her head.  Emma was dead, and it was too long a story
to explain about David.  "Her funeral is today.  I don't have any
clothes for a funeral.  I'm a slayer, and I don't have any clothes for
a funeral."  She felt the tears again.  Wiped at her eyes angrily. 
"That must seem pretty funny to you."

"It does seem a bit odd."  LaVelle got up and gingerly reached into
the closet.  "This is a mess."

"And I bet your closet is neat with all the right things in it.  Lined
up by color."

"And fabric."

She looked at LaVelle, who shrugged and said, "I can't help it that
I'm organized."

"Where I'm from we call that anal."

"Whatever."  

Christine crossed her arms and tried not to pay attention to how time
was ticking away.  Jim would be here soon.  They could not be late to
this funeral.  Everyone would be staring at her anyway.  Even if she
was perfect, they'd find some fault with her.  The watchers.  The
other slayers.   The people she'd left behind.

No one would be on her side.  No one but Jim.

She sighed.  Closed her eyes.

LaVelle stared at her for a moment.  Then she said, "Okay.  I'm very
angry about what you did.  And later, we're going to have a discussion
about the proper use of our portals."  She sighed.  "But right now I'm
going to go get you something to wear.  And you had better not ruin
it."

Christine looked up at her.  "You're going to do what?"

LaVelle was already calling the portal.  "Tell anyone I did this and
I'll deny it."  She disappeared into the portal, and it winked out.  A
few minutes later, she was back.  She handed Christine a black dress
and jacket.  "I assume you have shoes?"

Christine slipped the dress on.  It wasn't a perfect fit.  LaVelle was
bigger in the hips, smaller in the bust.  But it would do.  The jacket
hid a multitude of sins.

She turned away.  Why did any little kindness make her cry?  She felt
LaVelle touch her back.

"You okay?"

She nodded.  "Thank you."

"I'm still going to yell at you."

"And I'm still going to piss you off."

LaVelle laughed.  "No doubt."  She rubbed her ring.  "Don't wreck
that."

Christine turned.  Smiled.  "No way this is your favorite.  I know you
pulled out something you don't like that well."

LaVelle grinned.  "It's possible.  Try to not be late."  She stepped
into the portal.  "Is that annoying Kirk man going to be with you?"

She nodded.

LaVelle nodded.  "Good.  Lean on him.  Sometimes you have to let other
people be strong."

"Do you ever do that?"

LaVelle shook her head.  "But it's still good advice."

Christine laughed.  "I'll try not to wreck the dress."

"Just don't get into any fights.  And don't eat anything.  Or drink. 
In fact, don't even breathe."

"Right."

The portal disappeared before LaVelle could change her mind about the
loan.

Christine touched the fabric, smoothed it down.  It might not be one
of LaVelle's favorites, but it was a really nice dress.  She dug out
her most conservative shoes and slipped them on.  Hurrying to make up
for lost time, she put her hair up, went easy on the makeup, and was
ready for Jim when he buzzed from the entrance.  She grabbed a bag and
rushed out.

He smiled when he saw her.  "That's a new look for you."

"It's not mine."  She hugged him.  "I didn't have anything.  LaVelle
loaned it to me."

"LaVelle?  Slayer?  Dark?  Doesn't like you?  That LaVelle?  She
loaned you a dress?"

Christine nodded.

"I'll never get women."

She laughed.  "It's okay.  You get me.  That's enough."

He smiled, took her hand as they walked to the transporter station.  

She glanced over at him, noticed the dark suit.  She'd never seen him
in it.  "You look handsome."

He smiled.  "I didn't have anything to wear either.  But I went
shopping."

"Always prepared."

He nodded.  "You've had a lot on your mind."  He leaned in, seemed to
be studying her eyes.  "Have you been crying?"

She nodded.  "I went back to Emma's house.  I wanted something of
hers, maybe her walking stick.  Or some tweed."

He smiled. 

"But it was all gone.  Kevin had packed it all up.  Shipped it back to
the mother country, I guess."

Jim squeezed her hand. "I'm sorry."

She just nodded.  Damn tears.

He sighed.  "I know it doesn't help, but you had her love.  And that's
inside you.  Kevin can never pack that up and send it away."

She leaned into him, nestling her head against him for a moment. 
"You're so smart."

His arm went around her.  "It's just the truth.  She loved you enough
to die for you.  And to die with you.  I think she would have run from
anyone else.  I think that's what Kevin meant.  He loved her, but she
wouldn't have stayed with him.  Only you."

She smiled.  For the rest of the walk, she worked on getting control
of her chaotic emotions.  By the time they materialized in the London
transporter station, she felt more in control.

She suspected that Jim was shoring her up somehow.  

"Magic?" she whispered.

"Hmm?"

"Did you do magic just then.  For me?"

He frowned.  "What are you talking about?"

"To make me stronger?"

He shook his head.  "You don't need me for that."

She smiled.  "Then I think I may have stolen some of your calm."

He laughed.  "Take whatever you need.  It's yours.  You know that."

She nodded, looked away.  If only other things were as freely
available as his magic.

"Is that the church?" he asked softly.

An army of tweed stood outside.  "How can you tell?"  She smiled at
him.

He grinned back at her and she was grateful he'd insisted on coming
with her.

"Lots of slayers," he said.

She was surprised at the number.  They seemed to part as she and Jim
walked up.  She saw Lynda look over at her.  Her expression was
unreadable.  Then she nodded.

Christine nodded back. She followed Jim into the church.

On the left side were watchers.  More watchers than she'd ever seen in
one place.  No slayers sat there.  On the right side, she saw slayers
and watchers sitting together.  She looked back for Lynda, but the
slayer had disappeared into the crowd.

Jim rested his hand on her lower back, and she leaned into him for a
moment.  "Take a deep breath and let's go," he said.

"I can't take a deep breath, this dress is too tight."  She led him up
the far right aisle.  "May fortune favor the foolish."

He smiled.  "That's my line."  

She found an empty pew near the middle of the church and sat down.  He
followed her.

More watchers came in, some stared at her.  No one sat next to her. 
In fact, no one sat near her.  She could see Jim's jaw tighten.  She
touched his hand, shook her head.  And shrugged.  He still looked
angry.

She saw movement out of the corner of her eye and turned as someone
stepped into her pew from the center aisle.

"Is this seat taken?" Peter Wyndam-Pryce asked as he sat down.

"No."  She smiled up at him gratefully.  "I didn't think you'd be
here."

"I'm not sure I'm supposed to be.  But I thought it would be a good
experience for Indusa."  He leaned back as his slayer leaned forward. 
"Christine Chapel meet Indusa Kimani."

Christine held her hand out.  "Hello."

The girl took her hand and stared at her in awe.  She looked up at
Peter.  "It's true.  What you said."

"Yes, you can get to be very old if you're careful," Peter said.

Christine heard Jim chuckle.  She elbowed him.  He rubbed his mouth,
trying to hide the smile.

Peter winked at Christine as the young slayer continued to stare at
her.  He nodded to Jim.  "Captain."

"It's Admiral now," Christine whispered.  

"Oh, well, congratulations."

Jim nodded.

"Where's Spock?"

She took a deep breath.

"Oh my.  Not the question to ask apparently.  Well, forget I asked
it."

She smiled tightly.  "If only it were that easy."  She looked over at
Jim.

He took a deep breath too.  Smiled at her.  Sadly.

She heard harsh footsteps on the wooden floors of the church coming
toward them, and turned out of reflex.  She wasn't the only one who
turned--a lot of the watchers seemed to be very interested in what was
going on in their little section of the church.

Lynda led a small group of slayers toward her.  She seemed to be
stepping down quite hard.  Christine suddenly realized that the girl
wanted everyone to look at her.  She felt a surge of anger.  Emma
didn't need this kind of behavior.

Lynda stopped at the pew behind Christine.  She stepped in, then
leaned down and put her arms around Christine's shoulders, kissing her
on the cheek.  "I'm sorry for your loss," she whispered.  Then she
slid all the way in to the inside.

The next slayer leaned down, hugged her.  "I lost my watcher last
year.  I know what you're going through."  She moved away.

The girls, ten of them in all, all hugged her, each saying something
sweet, then sitting down behind her.

Christine felt her control slipping, reached for Jim's hand.  He
caught hers and she felt support flooding into her.  And control
coming back.

She looked over at Lynda.  The girl was staring out at the other
watchers, as if daring them to start something.  Then she looked over
at Christine, her eyes perfectly calm, and she motioned for Christine
to turn around.

"What's going on," Jim whispered in her ear.

She made a helpless gesture.  

He squeezed her hand, leaned in again and said, "I think they call
them minders over here.  Bodyguards.  Emotional ones maybe?"  He
shrugged.

It was as good an explanation as any.

The service was short and didn't seem to capture Emma at all.  It was
cold.  Nothing like the woman Christine had known.  The watchers filed
up to the front to view the casket, then trooped out.  None of them
looked at Christine.

Jim was squeezing her hand a little too hard.  She shook her hand a
little under his, and he shot her a look full of remorse and anger. 
Anger at these cold, cold people.

She noticed that some of the watchers had stayed behind.  One of them
got up and walked past the casket, to the podium.  He smiled at those
who remained.  "Emma helped me.  I want to tell you how."

The watchers who were still sitting nodded.  Nobody got up to leave. 

Christine looked behind her.  The slayers were still there.  

To her surprise, she realized Kevin was sitting in the back of the
church, listening to the man talk about how Emma had helped him
through the death of his slayer.  The man sat down and another watcher
got up.  The woman told a similar story.  Then a slayer got up, talked
about how Emma had helped her find the strength to go back to slaying
after nearly being killed in a nightmare battle.

Christine smiled.  This was the Emma she remembered.

She pushed herself up, walked to the podium.  "Emma didn't save me." 
She smiled.  Took a deep breath, fought for the control to say what
she wanted to say.  "Emma helped me save myself.  That was her gift. 
To see where we were broken and help us find the way to put it all
back together.  She was brilliant."

She took a deep breath.  

"And she was my friend.  I loved her."  She tried to say more, but she
couldn't.  Tears were threatening and her mouth was trembling.  She
looked out.  No one was frowning at her.  She saw someone nod, another
person smile.  "I loved her."

Then she walked back to her seat.  Jim scooted over to make room, put
his arm around her.  She felt one of the slayers touch her back
gently.

A few more people got up.  Kevin didn't get up.  But he didn't leave
either.  Not until it was over.

The slayers behind her got up.  Lynda leaned down as she passed her. 
"I need to speak with you after the burial."

Christine nodded.

They followed the rest out to the graveyard.  So many headstones.  All
watchers?

"Do they bury slayers here?" she asked Peter.

"Sometimes.  If they have no family."  He looked down at Indusa, who
didn't seem to want to move very far from his side.  "Most of the time
not."  He touched his slayer's shoulder.

Christine smiled.  He was a good watcher.  Indusa was in excellent
hands.

The burial was nearly as quick as the service.  She looked for Lynda
but didn't see her so she and Jim wandered around the gravestones.  So
much history.

"She's there," Jim said softly.  

Lynda stood at the edge of the graveyard, near a tree.

They walked over to her.  When they got there, she was kneeling down,
digging a small hole in the dirt, near the tree roots.

Lynda reached into her pocket and handed Christine a container.  Then
she stood up.  "There's no stone for David.  There was no service. 
He'll be forgotten."  She turned to Christine.  "Or he would have
been...if he hadn't made certain arrangements."

Christine frowned.  "I don't understand."   

"He'd made provisions.  If he didn't check in with a certain code on a
regular basis with a certain set of people, then a lot of rather
damming information he'd collected would be sent to some of us."  She
looked up at Christine.  "Some of us approaching the age of eighteen,
for example."

Christine started to smile.  "I take it you didn't like what you
read?"

"Not one bit."  Lynda smiled grimly.  "There's more information
coming.  All the time.  More things that he's bringing to light. 
Terrible things."  Lynda sighed.  "He was on our side, and we tried to
kill him."

"He was on our side, and I did kill him."

"We saw how it happened.  Kevin recorded it."

Christine looked at her in horror.  "What?"

"He had surveillance in the warehouse."  Lynda smiled.  It was not a
nice expression.  "Until today, I was his favorite slayer.  I had
access to those recordings.  I made copies, passed them around.  It's
really quite touching.  He died for you.  You cried for him.  David's
becoming a sort of legend...and so are you."

"Good.  For him, I mean.  He wasn't just evil.  He wasn't just a
vampire to be dusted and forgotten.  We should remember him."

"He wouldn't want to be there."  Lynda gestured to the row of white
headstones.  "But here.  To the side.  Watching them.  I think he'd
like that, don't you?"

Christine nodded.

"Kevin kept his ashes.  He said it was out of sentiment.  I don't know
if I believe that anymore."

"Who can tell with Kevin?"  Christine shrugged, opened the container. 
"In any case, his remains don't belong with Kevin.  David would have
hated that."  She knelt down, poured out the dust, filling the hole.

Lynda spread the dirt back over it and tamped it down.  "Rest in
peace, David Wharton."

They all stood silently for a moment, then Jim asked Lynda, "What are
you going to do?"

She shrugged.  "Not trust Kevin when my birthday rolls around, that's
for sure."  She touched Christine on the arm.  "I'm sorry about Emma. 
I didn't know her that well.  But I liked what I saw."

Christine touched her hand.  "Thanks."

"If you need us.  We're here."  Lynda looked across the cemetery.  Her
expression froze.

Christine followed her gaze.  Kevin was staring at them.  "And if you
need me, you just call.  I'll be on the Enterprise.  But I can get
help for you."

"I'll be okay.  I'm a slayer."  Lynda smiled cockily at her. 
"Grandma."

Christine rolled her eyes.  

Lynda walked off, directly toward Kevin.  He stood his ground.  

"What do you think is going to happen?" Jim asked her.

Christine shook her head.  "I think Kevin might be facing a coup
d'etat if he's not careful."  She laughed.  "And not a moment too
soon."  She looked down at the new grave they'd made.  "I don't
understand why David didn't send me the information."

"Did he know you were leaving?"

"Probably.  He knew everything."  She shook her head. "But I promised
him."

"And you'll keep that promise.  Later.  Besides, you're looking out
for some other slayers."

"One of whom will want this dress back."  Christine took the hand he
offered.  "Let's go home."

"Yeah."

They walked out of the cemetery and down to the transporter station.  

She didn't look back.

--------------------------------

Kirk saw Nogura come into the cafeteria.  He made a beeline for his
table.

"Have you seen Lori?"

"No, sir."

Nogura's expression was stormy--a tornado barely held under control. 
"Jim, this is important.  If you've seen her, I need to know where and
when."

Kirk could feel the other man's energy buffeting him.  But it didn't
seem like an attack, more like Nogura was having trouble controlling
himself.  "I haven't seen her, sir."

Nogura shook his head tightly.  "If you see her, you comm me.  Got
that?"

"Got it."  Kirk kept his expression bland.  The dutiful subordinate.

Nogura suddenly slammed his hands down on the table.  Kirk's tray
jumped and several people around them turned to look.  They saw it was
the admiral and quickly turned away.  Nogura's temper was legendary.

He leaned in.  "Jim.  This is no game.  If you see her--"

"--I'll tell you.  I heard you the first time."  Kirk clamped down on
his own energy, trying to only project a reassuringly neutrality.

Nogura straightened up.  He seemed about to say something else but
instead turned and strode out.

Kirk took a deep breath and tried to go back to eating, suddenly not
very hungry.

"Is this seat taken, sir?" a young lieutenant asked.

"Go ahead."  Kirk gave him a distant smile, not in the mood to talk.

"I have a message for you, Admiral."  The lieutenant barely moved his
mouth, was hunched over his lunch tray.

"A message?"

"From a certain person whose name we don't want to say because of
another person whose name we also don't want to say."

"Well, that narrows it down," Kirk said with a grim smile.  "This
first person...I take it she's not eager to be found by the second?"

"Yes, sir.  That's correct."

"And you would be?"

"Her cousin, sir."

"Ah."  Another one.   Kirk reached out with his magic, felt the
crackle snap as the hair on the back of his neck went up.  Were there
any normal people left in Starfleet?

"She needs to talk to you and the slayer.  She said the slayer would
know where."

"When?"  Kirk looked around the cafeteria.  No one seemed to be paying
attention to them.

"After you're off work.  Don't draw attention to yourself by leaving
now.  He'll be watching."  The lieutenant smiled.  "She said he won't
notice if you're with the slayer.  He expects that."

Kirk rolled his eyes.  "You can tell her we'll be there."  He pushed
his chair back.  "I hope she's in a safe place."

"She is, sir.  But it might not be safe much longer.  It's important
that you and the slayer come tonight."

"We'll be there."  He got up, took his tray to the recycler and went
back to his office.  He had plenty of work to do--not much of it
interesting, but at least it consumed time.  At the end of the day, he
walked down to Starfleet Medical, found Chris in her office.

"Jim."  She smiled, but the expression barely moved her lips, did not
make it anywhere near her eyes.

"What's wrong?"

"I lost a patient today."  She stood up.  "He was a technician
performing a routine diagnostic on a comm unit when it overloaded
somehow."  She turned, sighed.  "It's a given it'll be dangerous out
in space, but no one expects to die performing everyday maintenance
down here."

"I'm sorry."

"I know.  As a slayer, I see death all the time.  Take it for granted
almost.  But as a doctor, it's still a blow."

He smiled gently.  "And your first one as a doctor.  He was _your_
patient."

She nodded.  "I know he won't be my last.  I'll just have to not let
it get to me."  She leaned against her desk.  "What are you doing
here?"

"A mutual acquaintance of ours needs help."

She mouthed "Lori," and he nodded.  

"Trouble with someone high up?"

He nodded again.  "Let's go find her."

"Did she say where?"

"I was told you'd know where."

She nodded.  "Ah.  When?"

"Now, would be good."

"Let's go."

He followed her out.  They didn't talk until they were off the
Starfleet grounds.

"He was looking for her today," he said.

"Something's changed?"

"I'd say so."  

Chris nodded, not talking again for a while, until she said, "There it
is," and pointed down to the restaurant Uhura had shown them.  That
day seemed so long ago.  But it hadn't been.

He watched Chris as she hurried ahead of him.  He'd gotten so used to
having her with him, enjoying the occasional lunches, the more
frequent dinners.  Just spending time with her--in the cemetery, in
one of their apartments, it didn't matter.  Just enjoying being with
her.

That would be over soon.  

He clamped down on the emotion that ran over him.  It did no good to
give in to this sadness.  She needed to go.  It would be good for her.

She turned back to look at him.  "You okay?"

He smiled, wondered if she had sensed the downward dive his thoughts
had taken.  "Yeah."

She touched his hand as she pulled the door to the restaurant open. 
"Show no fear."

"Werewolf heaven?"

She nodded, then they were inside and he could feel at once that the
place was shielded.  Heavily so.  The crackle of energy of the outside
world faded away.  He'd come to take that energy for granted, felt
uneasy now, unnerved by its absence.

A group of men by the bar turned to watch them as Chris walked to a
staircase.  They didn't challenge them but they never took their eyes
off them.  Kirk didn't look away from them either.  He thought he saw
one of the men lift his lip in a snarl.  He decided not to return the
expression.

"Jim," Chris said. 

He turned to look at her.  

"I didn't mean you should challenge them all."

"Oh."  He shrugged.  "You'll protect me."  He looked back over his
shoulder.

"The bartender already doesn't like me.  Let's not add you to his list
of people to eat for dinner at the next full moon."

"Well, at least we'll go out together."

She smiled at that, and he grinned.

"You're incorrigible," she said.

He laughed, but as they pushed open the door to the lower level and
walked into the room, his smile faded.

Lori sat slumped at a table, a young man rubbing her shoulders.  She
looked gray, and had terrible circles under her eyes, and over them
too, in the deep hollows underneath her eyebrow.  Her lips were dry,
chapped, as if she'd been wandering in the desert for days.  And her
eyes were dull, the whites almost yellow.

Christine said, "Oh my god."

Lori held up a hand.  "There's nothing you can do for me.  Not as a
doctor anyway.  This is magic, not illness.""  She motioned the young
man away, gestured for them to sit.

"Nogura's doing this to you?" Kirk asked.  But he knew the answer.

She nodded.  "I started not feeling well yesterday morning.  I just
thought it was some kind of virus.  But then when I woke up this
morning and looked in the mirror...I knew."  She swallowed,
convulsively.  Hands shaking, she reached for a glass of water and
took a sip.  She choked.

Chris touched her gently on the back.  "It's okay.  He can't get you
in here, right?"

"I can't stay here forever.  He'll figure it out.  Or someone will
tell him about this place."  She grabbed Chris's hand.  "Please.  I
don't know how he found out what I was doing, but he did.  We"--she
gestured to all those in the room--"have to get out of here.  You know
what he's like."  She turned to Kirk.  "You do, Jim.  You know how he
is."

He nodded helplessly, looked over at Chris.  She looked trapped.

"It's not something she can hand over to you, Lori. No matter how much
she might want to."

She turned to Chris.  "But you can ask?  You can ask whoever it is
that does make those decisions?  You can find out.  Please?  I need to
get there.  Now."  She sobbed, seemed very small and very far from the
cocky woman he was used to dealing with.

Kirk leaned in.  "You can't go back to Command.  He's looking for you.
 And he's not happy."

She looked down.  "I know.  He can't feel me, can't find my energy
while I'm here.  It must be driving him crazy."  She sounded as if
that was a good thing.

He didn't blame her.

"He'll never give up.  I can't go back out there."  She looked up at
them, her eyes pleading with them to help her.

"You had to know the risks," he said softly.  "When you decided to act
on your own."

Lori met his eyes, her expression was dazed.  "I knew.  But in an
impersonal way.  It was a game.  Now, it's not.  Now, I'm scared." 
She turned to Chris.  "Please.  Help me.  Help us all."

"Can we help the ones in the pens?"

Lori nodded.  "We'll figure out a way to get them out.  If I just know
that there's a place for us.  A safe place.  Finally."

She looked around the room.  The others were nodding.  They looked
scared too.  Scared and concerned for Lori.

Kirk frowned.  "What are the pens?"

"You don't want to know," Lori said, putting her hand over his.  "It's
horrible."

Chris nodded.  "It's what I couldn't tell you about."

He could see that they still weren't going to tell him.  "Okay."

"I can't just sit and do nothing any longer," Lori said.  "I'm the
alpha.  I have no choice.  I have to lead them.  Out of here.  Away
from him.  To safety.  To freedom."

Chris still looked trapped.  "I'll see what I can do."

"When?"

"Soon."

Lori tried to stand up but didn't have the strength.  

The young man rushed to her, pushing her gently back into the chair. 
He looked at Chris.  "Soon might not be fast enough."

"Tonight," Lori said, reaching out and grabbing Chris's hand again. 
"Please do it tonight.  Before he finds us.  Before he kills us."

"I'll try."  Chris gently pulled her hand away and stood up.

Kirk sighed, staring at Lori.  "Stay here.  Rest."

She nodded, leaned back as if everything was normal, but he could tell
by the way she was sitting that she was not all right.

She was a hell of long way from all right.


End part 1 of 3

--
Forwarded to ASCL by:
Stephen Ratliff
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