This part is rated mature, for swearing and violence.
~22~
“I’m your protector,” she told him softly.
Rath swore and backed away, his body screaming in protest. Ronna stared at him sadly, her violet eyes watchful. They’d been working together secretly for a while now, working on Rath’s powers for when the time came when Lonnie put her plan into action. Rath would have to protect Zan.
But the togetherness, the close confines of her tastefully decorated apartment, and the fact that she was one fine looking chick, had got to him. It got to the point that if he couldn’t see her amazing eyes, or hear her musical laugh…he ached.
He’d never felt that way about Lonnie. Never felt that way about anyone.
It had gotten to be too much today, when she was smiling at him, and he had given in. He had reached over and ran a hand through her short blonde hair, and lifted her head so that their lips would meet. She had given in for a moment, her mouth yielding to his in the sweetest kiss he’d ever had, but then she had stiffened, and the kiss had ended.
“What’s dat gotta do wit’ anythin’?” he demanded harshly.
She bit her lip. “We can’t get involved Rath. I’m a shapeshifter, you’re Zan’s second in command. I’m here to protect you, it would be a violation of my duties.”
He shook his head and started walking for the door, “I’s outta here.”
“Rath! Wait!” She grabbed his arm and he twisted around to face her, hoping she was relenting. “We have to practice. You have to protect Zan from Nicholas and Vilandra.”
He tore his arm from her grip, feeling hurt, and not liking it. “Yous knows what?” he asked, “Fuck Zan.”
“Rath!” she gasped, “You don’t mean that. He’s your king, your best friend, he-”
“He’s always flexin’ on me,” Rath interrupted, “So fuck ‘im, and fuck you too Ronna. I doan need none of your shit.” And then he left, leaving her staring open-mouthed after him in disbelief.
It was all about Zan with her. All about protecting the almighty King. Well, the almighty King Zan could go fuck himself for all Rath cared. And where was Zan anyway. He wasn’t at home anymore, or ballin’ it up wit’ Rath on the streets. Naw, he was workin’, and livin’ all by his almighty self. Bastard.
Lonnie was right. Zan had abandoned them. He didn’t deserve being king. Besides, Rath could do better them him any day of the week. At least he was around for Lonnie and the retard.
~
The knock on the door filled Ronna with hope. She was sure Rath had come to his senses and had come back to apologize and get back to work.
She was sorry it had to have come out like this. Truth was, she was attracted to him, but it wouldn’t work out. Her first duty was to the Crown, to King Zan, and keeping him safe. But since she didn’t know where Zan was, and Rath didn’t know either, she had to train the second to help her.
And then he had pulled that stunt and she had been forced to lay her priorities on the line. And, in typical Rath style, he had blown up and stormed off, spouting nonsense about Zan. Well, now he was back, and everything would be all right.
Ronna opened the door and blinked in shock. “Nicholas,” she whispered.
“Hello, Veronica,” Nicholas said pleasantly, “Mind if I come in?” At the underlying threat in his voice, Ronna snapped back to herself and started to slam the door shut, not that that would delay him for long, but…
“Not so fast,” and a booted foot got in the way, and a power ball slammed her back into the room. Vilandra sauntered in, Nicholas right behind her. Ronna raised her hand, prepared to do battle, but they were already on her, pining her to the wall.
“You’ve been interfering with our plans,” Nicholas said, putting a little more oomph to his holding shield. She bit her lip to keep from crying out at the pain. Vilandra moved into her line of sight, and Ronna suddenly realized she was more afraid of the princess, with her glacial eyes, than of the smug smirk on the Skin’s face.
“Ya messin’ around wit’ my property, girlie,” Lonnie said, circling in front of Ronna, “Now, Rath may be a lil’ borin’ and uncouth, but he’s still mine.” She got up in Ronna’s face. “And I doan like people takin’ wha’s mine,” she hissed.
“Lonnie,” Nicholas said warningly.
Vilandra backed off. “Chill, Nicky. I ain’t gonna kill her.” She gave Ronna a once over, “Not yet, anyways.” A grin crossed her face. “We ain’t had time to play yet.”
“Well,” he said in a bored voice, “Hurry up, we have an appointment we don’t want to miss.”
“Yeah, yeah…” she waved away his concerns, grinning at Ronna. “I’ll get to my bro in due time. Righ’ now I’s wanna have some fun.”
~
Zan ran his hand down Roz’s arm, kissing her bare shoulder. “Put a shirt on,” he grumbled.
“I’m wearing a shirt,” she countered, leaning back into him. The past few days had been soft between the two of them. A fragile sort of haze had dropped over them since the night the first made love. Zan was afraid, he kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, and he had a bad feeling it was gonna happen soon.
She had to go, she had classes, and he had a scheduled money drop with Ava at the old crib. But he really didn’t want her going out in public in a tube top, when he knew other guys were eyeing her.
He’d seen them when he picked her up at the campus on his ‘cycle. They were all preppy punks, who turned their noses up at him, and stared in disgust. He’d heard them whispering too, wondering what a girl like Rosalyn Braver was doing with a guy like him.
He often wondered that himself, but hearing it from other people made it hurt. Roz had glared at the boys, and told him not to listen to them, and when they got home, she had kissed all his doubts away.
“Then put on a jacket.”
“Fine,” she said, and wriggled out of his embrace to grab a jean jacket, “C’mon Zan, I don’t wanna be late!”
He met her sparkling brown eyes and smiled goofily, grabbing his leather jacket and taking her hand. They ran hand-in-hand to his bike and took off, roaring down the streets of Manhattan.
After he had dropped her off, a task that took five minutes of kissing time before she left him for her class, he headed back to the apartment to drop off his bike. Then he’d have to walk to the subway and meet Ava. They were gonna do something today, he had told Roz he and Ava would probably do lunch, a movie, and maybe dinner.
He was a lucky man that she was so understanding about his and Ava’s friendship, which was all it was since she came into the picture, and that he didn’t have to deal with jealous tirades when he got home from a day with the pink-haired girl. Though Roz did demand a serious make-out session once he got home.
And he was only to happy to oblige.
Now, however, Zan was looking at a night of love-making instead of just kissing and groping, and he would be very, very happy to oblige his girl in that.
Grinning, he started on his way, wanting for the day to be over fast so that the night could begin.
TBC...
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Sweet Rosalyn (UC,Zan/Roz,MATURE) AN- 3/21/05 [WIP]
Moderators: Anniepoo98, ISLANDGIRL5, truelovepooh, Forum Moderators
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dreamangel
- Addicted Roswellian
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Last edited by dreamangel on Fri May 20, 2005 7:28 pm, edited 1 time in total.
"That which is loved is always beautiful." - Norwegian Proverb
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dreamangel
- Addicted Roswellian
- Posts: 176
- Joined: Tue Oct 09, 2001 4:58 pm
- Location: far from reality
~23~
“Wha’s da matter wit’ you?”
Ava looked over at Zan as they walked down the dark, deserted subway tracks. His golden-brown eyes were trained on her, the expression in them worry. She bit her lip and looked away.
She still loved him, she couldn’t make herself stop, and she kept her mouth shut out of spite for his happiness.
She knew he had another girl, one he had fallen in love with. He talked about his Roz constantly while they went out on these friendship dates. Ava hated Roz, whoever she was. She had done everything in her power to make Zan love her as she loved him, and all her hard work was ruined the moment he laid his gorgeous eyes on a prim little cherry.
And so, she didn’t tell him about all the mutterings Lonnie had been about lately, or the fact that Rath kept disappearing and coming back in a mad temper, or how much that rat-faced Skin, Nicholas, had been coming down to fuck Lonnie since he had left.
She wanted to say something to him about this Summit Lonnie had brought up the other night. It was still a couple months away, the leaders of the other planets from their solar system were prepping their dupes, but it was pretty important, and it was obvious Zan should know about it.
But when she had brought it up to Lonnie, the other girl had said she’d handle Zan. And Ava hadn’t liked the smile that had spread across her face.
“Aves?”
She shrugged lightly, “Nothin’s wrong, Zan.”
“Yous sure? ‘Cause yous been actin’ weird all day, Ava. Rath ain’t harrassin’ ya, is he?”
“Naw, Zan, Rath ain’t been around lots, so its cool.” She sighed and started walking a little faster.
“Whoa, whoa, slow down Aves, wha’s the rush?” Zan took a few running steps to catch back up to her.
“It’s late,” she informed him bluntly, “Ain’t you jus’ pantin’ to get back to your precious Rosalyn?” She winced, stopped, and turned back to where he was standing, looking at her with a hurt expression on his face. “I’s din’t mean that, Zan,” she apologized softly.
“Then whys you say it, Ava?”
“Zan-”
“If Roz ain’t got a problem wit’ me hangin’ wit’ you, why do yous got one wit’ me and her, huh?”
“Mebbe it’s ‘cause she’s da’ one yous is makin’ love to,” she retorted vindictively.
She started walking again, and it was a few moments before she heard him running to catch up with her. He grabbed her arm and spun her to face him, unwilling to let the subject drop. “Ava, I ain’t never been in love wit’ you, yous knows that-”
“Yeah, but whens you were fuckin’ me, it was easier to pretend ya did,” she interrupted. They stared at one another solemnly for a long, frozen beat, and just when it seemed like he was going to say something, a light flared a head of them, and a malicious voice echoed around the subway tunnel.
“Welcome home, lil’ bro.”
~
She could see Zan’s eyes narrow, as he looked at her, lounging against one grimy wall in the distance. He knew something was up, her brother wasn’t a idiot.
“Lonnie,” he returned the greeting coolly, and pulled Ava along with him as he approached her.
“Aw, doan I gets a hug?” She held out her arms mockingly to him. Zan just stared at her, gaze level.
“Wha’s up?”
She smirked, “A Summit. All the peeps from the old ‘hood want ta talk ta ya. Yous da man Zan.”
“I knows.”
She lost her sly grin. He was such a cocky ass. Well, she’d fix him. Just like she’d fixed that damn shapshifting bitch. The grin came back as she remembered Miss High and Mighty writhing against that wall, begging for Lonnie to kill her. The whole torturing session had left her so horny, she had done Nicky-boy right there on the floor as the body grew cold.
And thinking of it now made her squirm, she’d get Rath to eat her out after she took care of Zan… And then she’d tell him what happened to his little girlfriend.
“Really?”
“Yeah, really. They’s meetin’ in November, you want I should make some reservations?”
His face was inscrutable. “Naw, I think I’ll pass.”
“Ya know,” she drawled, “For some strange reason, I thought tha’s what yous was gonna say. It’s a good thing I’s always prepared.”
A frown darkened his features, followed by an expression of shock as Rath’s blast sent him reeling to the ground. Rath came up beside her, and Nicholas dislodged himself from the dark shadow further down the tunnel and knelt beside the fallen king. Ava just stood there, blue eyes sad, watching Zan twitch on the ground as Nicholas performed his mind-rape.
The satisfied smirk returned to Lonnie’s ethereally alien face. Everything was going just the way she wanted it.
~
Nicholas bypassed all the annoying memories of Zan’s street rat life. He needed to find something they could control the young man with. Something so cherished, Zan would do anything for it.
Flashes started abruptly, all of the same girl, and Nicholas smiled, slowing them down to be able to catch the mighty king’s feelings.
The memory that finally froze was a simple one. The girl was seated at a kitchen table, idly stroking the petals of a red rose in the vase beside her. Her attention was fixed on the book lying on the table, but then she looked up, wisps of brown hair escaping her ponytail and framing her classic face. Her brown eyes lit up, and she smiled, a brilliant smile that made Nicholas’ breath catch as he relived Zan’s emotions.
The King was in love.
It was perfect.
~
Zan dimly heard Nicholas’ annoying pre-pubescent voice saying his apartment number, and then Roz’s name. Panic swept him, and he struggled to regain control of himself, but he still couldn’t move. He felt paralyzed.
His blurring vision focused on Ava, and he pleaded with her silently to help him, but he got no response from her dead blue eyes.
“Roz,” he croaked as he lost consciousness. He had to get to Roz…
TBC...
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“Wha’s da matter wit’ you?”
Ava looked over at Zan as they walked down the dark, deserted subway tracks. His golden-brown eyes were trained on her, the expression in them worry. She bit her lip and looked away.
She still loved him, she couldn’t make herself stop, and she kept her mouth shut out of spite for his happiness.
She knew he had another girl, one he had fallen in love with. He talked about his Roz constantly while they went out on these friendship dates. Ava hated Roz, whoever she was. She had done everything in her power to make Zan love her as she loved him, and all her hard work was ruined the moment he laid his gorgeous eyes on a prim little cherry.
And so, she didn’t tell him about all the mutterings Lonnie had been about lately, or the fact that Rath kept disappearing and coming back in a mad temper, or how much that rat-faced Skin, Nicholas, had been coming down to fuck Lonnie since he had left.
She wanted to say something to him about this Summit Lonnie had brought up the other night. It was still a couple months away, the leaders of the other planets from their solar system were prepping their dupes, but it was pretty important, and it was obvious Zan should know about it.
But when she had brought it up to Lonnie, the other girl had said she’d handle Zan. And Ava hadn’t liked the smile that had spread across her face.
“Aves?”
She shrugged lightly, “Nothin’s wrong, Zan.”
“Yous sure? ‘Cause yous been actin’ weird all day, Ava. Rath ain’t harrassin’ ya, is he?”
“Naw, Zan, Rath ain’t been around lots, so its cool.” She sighed and started walking a little faster.
“Whoa, whoa, slow down Aves, wha’s the rush?” Zan took a few running steps to catch back up to her.
“It’s late,” she informed him bluntly, “Ain’t you jus’ pantin’ to get back to your precious Rosalyn?” She winced, stopped, and turned back to where he was standing, looking at her with a hurt expression on his face. “I’s din’t mean that, Zan,” she apologized softly.
“Then whys you say it, Ava?”
“Zan-”
“If Roz ain’t got a problem wit’ me hangin’ wit’ you, why do yous got one wit’ me and her, huh?”
“Mebbe it’s ‘cause she’s da’ one yous is makin’ love to,” she retorted vindictively.
She started walking again, and it was a few moments before she heard him running to catch up with her. He grabbed her arm and spun her to face him, unwilling to let the subject drop. “Ava, I ain’t never been in love wit’ you, yous knows that-”
“Yeah, but whens you were fuckin’ me, it was easier to pretend ya did,” she interrupted. They stared at one another solemnly for a long, frozen beat, and just when it seemed like he was going to say something, a light flared a head of them, and a malicious voice echoed around the subway tunnel.
“Welcome home, lil’ bro.”
~
She could see Zan’s eyes narrow, as he looked at her, lounging against one grimy wall in the distance. He knew something was up, her brother wasn’t a idiot.
“Lonnie,” he returned the greeting coolly, and pulled Ava along with him as he approached her.
“Aw, doan I gets a hug?” She held out her arms mockingly to him. Zan just stared at her, gaze level.
“Wha’s up?”
She smirked, “A Summit. All the peeps from the old ‘hood want ta talk ta ya. Yous da man Zan.”
“I knows.”
She lost her sly grin. He was such a cocky ass. Well, she’d fix him. Just like she’d fixed that damn shapshifting bitch. The grin came back as she remembered Miss High and Mighty writhing against that wall, begging for Lonnie to kill her. The whole torturing session had left her so horny, she had done Nicky-boy right there on the floor as the body grew cold.
And thinking of it now made her squirm, she’d get Rath to eat her out after she took care of Zan… And then she’d tell him what happened to his little girlfriend.
“Really?”
“Yeah, really. They’s meetin’ in November, you want I should make some reservations?”
His face was inscrutable. “Naw, I think I’ll pass.”
“Ya know,” she drawled, “For some strange reason, I thought tha’s what yous was gonna say. It’s a good thing I’s always prepared.”
A frown darkened his features, followed by an expression of shock as Rath’s blast sent him reeling to the ground. Rath came up beside her, and Nicholas dislodged himself from the dark shadow further down the tunnel and knelt beside the fallen king. Ava just stood there, blue eyes sad, watching Zan twitch on the ground as Nicholas performed his mind-rape.
The satisfied smirk returned to Lonnie’s ethereally alien face. Everything was going just the way she wanted it.
~
Nicholas bypassed all the annoying memories of Zan’s street rat life. He needed to find something they could control the young man with. Something so cherished, Zan would do anything for it.
Flashes started abruptly, all of the same girl, and Nicholas smiled, slowing them down to be able to catch the mighty king’s feelings.
The memory that finally froze was a simple one. The girl was seated at a kitchen table, idly stroking the petals of a red rose in the vase beside her. Her attention was fixed on the book lying on the table, but then she looked up, wisps of brown hair escaping her ponytail and framing her classic face. Her brown eyes lit up, and she smiled, a brilliant smile that made Nicholas’ breath catch as he relived Zan’s emotions.
The King was in love.
It was perfect.
~
Zan dimly heard Nicholas’ annoying pre-pubescent voice saying his apartment number, and then Roz’s name. Panic swept him, and he struggled to regain control of himself, but he still couldn’t move. He felt paralyzed.
His blurring vision focused on Ava, and he pleaded with her silently to help him, but he got no response from her dead blue eyes.
“Roz,” he croaked as he lost consciousness. He had to get to Roz…
TBC...
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"That which is loved is always beautiful." - Norwegian Proverb
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dreamangel
- Addicted Roswellian
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- Joined: Tue Oct 09, 2001 4:58 pm
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~24~
She flipped through the channels at a rapid pace, nervous. It was dark, Zan should have been home nearly two hours ago. Roz glanced at the clock again and suddenly turned the television off and started pacing. It wasn’t like him to be late, what if something had happened to him?!
And then there came a loud, insistent knocking at the front door. She rushed to the door, thinking he had forgot his key, and flung it open, only to stare in confusion at her visitor.
They watched each other warily for a long moment, and then the uninvited guest pushed past her into the apartment and grabbed Roz’s coat, throwing it at her, and then walked back out the door.
“Hey! Wait!” Roz called, scrambling into her coat and locking the front door, before running after the intruder.
~
“She ain’t here,” Rath told Nicholas after he had ransacked Zan’s perfect apartment. It was completely pitiful how much the man had turned into a pansy ass. He had sissy paintings up and a bunch a flowers… Rath shook his head, they were doing Zan a favor by forcing him back into his old life. This girl, whoever she was, had almost ruined him.
“Oh well,” the Skin sighed, “Can’t win them all.” He gave a leisurely stretch and walked out of the apartment. Rath followed, wondering what was up with this guy’s attitude. He left the busted up front door open and then maliciously blasted the bedroom door off it’s hinges from where he could see it in the hallway.
“Wha’d we do now?” he asked.
Nicholas gave him a once over, lip curling in disgust. “We wait,” he informed him coolly, “We wait, and we watch. It’s very simple.”
Rath’s fists clenched at the Skin’s superior tone. When they got back to Antar, Nicky-boy was a dead muthafucker, he’d make sure of it. Personally.
A black, nondescript car pulled up next to them on the street, and the door opened, a naked Lonnie visible now that the door was open. Nicholas climbed in gracefully, gave Rath a detestable smile, and shut the car door before he had a chance to get in. The car pulled away quickly, tires squealing, and flinging mud and sewer trash up onto Rath’s pants. He muttered some curses under his breath, and started walking.
He was sick of Lonnie and Nicholas and all their shit. He was sick of Zan too, and his perfect fuckin’ life.
Zan was the King, he was da man. He had brains, power, money, a girl. He had it all, and he wouldn’t step up.
Rath wanted that. He wanted Zan’s life. And he had almost had part of it, a part of the good life that would have made everything else insignificant. But Ronna didn’t want it. Ronna wanted Zan. At least on the throne. Zan was her top priority, not him. He was just a means to an end.
He suddenly stopped, aware that he had unconsciously walked to Ronna’s apartment building. He sighed and went in, up to her rooms, and stood outside the door. He had been too harsh with her, he knew she was attracted to him too, but Zan came first.
Rath winced, knowing what she was going to say when he told her what had went down, but he really needed to talk to her. To work out his confusion. He knocked, “Ronna?” he called. There was no answer. After knocking some more, and still getting no reply, he looked around, when he saw no one nearby, he used his powers to unlock the door, and then he walked it.
“Ronna?” he called again, looking around. The lights were off, he flicked them on, and swore.
There was nothing here. He ran from the hallway to the living room to the kitchen, to her bedroom, and still nothing. No Ronna, none of her belongings. She had split. She had fucking split, no good-bye, no warning, just BAM!
Rage welled up in him. She had played him, and now he couldn’t do anything about it, and she knew it! Damn it! He sent blast after blast around her apartment, destroying the left over furniture. Screw her, he kept repeating in his head, screw her and everything she stood for.
Including Zan.
~
He very carefully turned over onto his back, his whole body feeling as if he had been run over by a semi-truck. Which, he mused, staring up at the glowing pods on the wall, he sort of had. Rath’s power blasts were about the equivalent of a two-ton hit, and Nicholas…
Zan shook his pounding head, trying to remember what the annoying little Skin had done to him. A mind-rape, but what had he been searching for…
Shit.
Rosalyn.
Zan was up in an instant, pain forgotten as he raced back through the abandoned tracks, guard up. He had to get to her before they did. He had to!
He ignored the curses and insults thrown his way as he ran through the crowds on the subway platforms. He jetted up the stairs and into the night of NYC. Hailing a taxi, he jumped in and gave the driver instructions, emphasizing his hurry.
Luckily, the driver was good at maneuvering, and traffic was light. When they pulled up in front of his apartment building, Zan grabbed his wallet, threw a wad of cash at the guy and clambered out of the vehicle, racing to the elevator, and up to his and Roz’s apartment, where he nearly died of fright.
“ROZ!” he shouted, running through the open front door. He searched the every room, top to bottom, and there was no sign of her. They had her, he was too late. Despair ate him up, and he collapsed on the floor of the bedroom, sobbing. This was his fault, he had never told her, never explained what she was getting into by being with him, and now it was all catching up to him, and Roz had been caught in the cross-fire.
“Oh my God!” The voice broke through his thoughts, and he was on his feet, moving toward the broken bedroom door. “ZAN?!” It was Roz’s sweet, anxious voice, “Zan, are you here? Oh, God-“ She broke off when he appeared in the doorway, relief evident in her eyes. “Zan,” she breathed and ran to him, flinging herself into his arms, “Where were you, I was so worried-“
He cut her off with a kiss, not able to stop himself from touching her. She was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, and relief at her safety made holding her so much sweeter. “Rosalyn,” he whispered, staring into her eyes, and then going in for another kiss.
“A-hem.” A delicate throat cleared, and the two lovers broke apart to gaze at the woman standing in the hallway, eyebrows raised. Zan’s eyes widened in disbelief.
“Ava?” he inquired.
She gave him a grin, “Da one an’ only.”
“Wha…?” He looked down at Roz for an explanation.
“Ava came for a visit earlier, she said she wanted to talk, so we went for ice cream,” Roz told him, “She explained about how Philly called you in to cover for Tony for a while.” Her eyes darkened, “I was so scared when you didn’t come home, why didn’t you call?” she demanded.
“Roz-“
“And what happened? Was there a fight at the club?” she asked anxiously, running her hand tenderly down his cheek. He gave her a grin, finally realizing what a mess he must look like with his tattered clothes and his bloodied face.
“I’ll tell ya all ‘bout it when I’s get back, ‘kay? Righ’ now, I’s gonna walk Ava out.” She nodded, and he kissed her gently one last time before turning to the pink-haired girl and gesturing her out. "Roz, you stay here, doan move from dis spot.” He gave her a serious glare, and she nodded again.
There was silence between the two aliens as they walked to the elevator, but when the door dinged shut, Zan turned to Ava. “I’s doan unda’stand, Aves… I sawsaw you…”
She shrugged, “I’s been practicin’,” she said by way of explanation. “Look,” she turned to him, meeting his gaze, her blue eyes serious, “I knows I been jealous, but I knows how much she means ta ya. And I’s told ya before, Zan, it’s always gonna be you.”
He couldn’t say anything to that, so when the doors opened once more Ava stepped out, looked over her shoulder with a sad smile, and waved. “See ya ‘round.”
The doors shut once more and Zan pressed the button for his floor. He scrubbed his face with his hands and walked back to the apartment, where Roz was busy moving everything abck into it’s rightful place. He considered scolding her about moving, but his relief was too great. She was okay. She was safe from this alien madness for at least a while longer.
His gut clenched, he needed her, now.
Zan strode to her, scooping her up into his arms, and started toward the bedroom.
TBC...
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She flipped through the channels at a rapid pace, nervous. It was dark, Zan should have been home nearly two hours ago. Roz glanced at the clock again and suddenly turned the television off and started pacing. It wasn’t like him to be late, what if something had happened to him?!
And then there came a loud, insistent knocking at the front door. She rushed to the door, thinking he had forgot his key, and flung it open, only to stare in confusion at her visitor.
They watched each other warily for a long moment, and then the uninvited guest pushed past her into the apartment and grabbed Roz’s coat, throwing it at her, and then walked back out the door.
“Hey! Wait!” Roz called, scrambling into her coat and locking the front door, before running after the intruder.
~
“She ain’t here,” Rath told Nicholas after he had ransacked Zan’s perfect apartment. It was completely pitiful how much the man had turned into a pansy ass. He had sissy paintings up and a bunch a flowers… Rath shook his head, they were doing Zan a favor by forcing him back into his old life. This girl, whoever she was, had almost ruined him.
“Oh well,” the Skin sighed, “Can’t win them all.” He gave a leisurely stretch and walked out of the apartment. Rath followed, wondering what was up with this guy’s attitude. He left the busted up front door open and then maliciously blasted the bedroom door off it’s hinges from where he could see it in the hallway.
“Wha’d we do now?” he asked.
Nicholas gave him a once over, lip curling in disgust. “We wait,” he informed him coolly, “We wait, and we watch. It’s very simple.”
Rath’s fists clenched at the Skin’s superior tone. When they got back to Antar, Nicky-boy was a dead muthafucker, he’d make sure of it. Personally.
A black, nondescript car pulled up next to them on the street, and the door opened, a naked Lonnie visible now that the door was open. Nicholas climbed in gracefully, gave Rath a detestable smile, and shut the car door before he had a chance to get in. The car pulled away quickly, tires squealing, and flinging mud and sewer trash up onto Rath’s pants. He muttered some curses under his breath, and started walking.
He was sick of Lonnie and Nicholas and all their shit. He was sick of Zan too, and his perfect fuckin’ life.
Zan was the King, he was da man. He had brains, power, money, a girl. He had it all, and he wouldn’t step up.
Rath wanted that. He wanted Zan’s life. And he had almost had part of it, a part of the good life that would have made everything else insignificant. But Ronna didn’t want it. Ronna wanted Zan. At least on the throne. Zan was her top priority, not him. He was just a means to an end.
He suddenly stopped, aware that he had unconsciously walked to Ronna’s apartment building. He sighed and went in, up to her rooms, and stood outside the door. He had been too harsh with her, he knew she was attracted to him too, but Zan came first.
Rath winced, knowing what she was going to say when he told her what had went down, but he really needed to talk to her. To work out his confusion. He knocked, “Ronna?” he called. There was no answer. After knocking some more, and still getting no reply, he looked around, when he saw no one nearby, he used his powers to unlock the door, and then he walked it.
“Ronna?” he called again, looking around. The lights were off, he flicked them on, and swore.
There was nothing here. He ran from the hallway to the living room to the kitchen, to her bedroom, and still nothing. No Ronna, none of her belongings. She had split. She had fucking split, no good-bye, no warning, just BAM!
Rage welled up in him. She had played him, and now he couldn’t do anything about it, and she knew it! Damn it! He sent blast after blast around her apartment, destroying the left over furniture. Screw her, he kept repeating in his head, screw her and everything she stood for.
Including Zan.
~
He very carefully turned over onto his back, his whole body feeling as if he had been run over by a semi-truck. Which, he mused, staring up at the glowing pods on the wall, he sort of had. Rath’s power blasts were about the equivalent of a two-ton hit, and Nicholas…
Zan shook his pounding head, trying to remember what the annoying little Skin had done to him. A mind-rape, but what had he been searching for…
Shit.
Rosalyn.
Zan was up in an instant, pain forgotten as he raced back through the abandoned tracks, guard up. He had to get to her before they did. He had to!
He ignored the curses and insults thrown his way as he ran through the crowds on the subway platforms. He jetted up the stairs and into the night of NYC. Hailing a taxi, he jumped in and gave the driver instructions, emphasizing his hurry.
Luckily, the driver was good at maneuvering, and traffic was light. When they pulled up in front of his apartment building, Zan grabbed his wallet, threw a wad of cash at the guy and clambered out of the vehicle, racing to the elevator, and up to his and Roz’s apartment, where he nearly died of fright.
“ROZ!” he shouted, running through the open front door. He searched the every room, top to bottom, and there was no sign of her. They had her, he was too late. Despair ate him up, and he collapsed on the floor of the bedroom, sobbing. This was his fault, he had never told her, never explained what she was getting into by being with him, and now it was all catching up to him, and Roz had been caught in the cross-fire.
“Oh my God!” The voice broke through his thoughts, and he was on his feet, moving toward the broken bedroom door. “ZAN?!” It was Roz’s sweet, anxious voice, “Zan, are you here? Oh, God-“ She broke off when he appeared in the doorway, relief evident in her eyes. “Zan,” she breathed and ran to him, flinging herself into his arms, “Where were you, I was so worried-“
He cut her off with a kiss, not able to stop himself from touching her. She was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, and relief at her safety made holding her so much sweeter. “Rosalyn,” he whispered, staring into her eyes, and then going in for another kiss.
“A-hem.” A delicate throat cleared, and the two lovers broke apart to gaze at the woman standing in the hallway, eyebrows raised. Zan’s eyes widened in disbelief.
“Ava?” he inquired.
She gave him a grin, “Da one an’ only.”
“Wha…?” He looked down at Roz for an explanation.
“Ava came for a visit earlier, she said she wanted to talk, so we went for ice cream,” Roz told him, “She explained about how Philly called you in to cover for Tony for a while.” Her eyes darkened, “I was so scared when you didn’t come home, why didn’t you call?” she demanded.
“Roz-“
“And what happened? Was there a fight at the club?” she asked anxiously, running her hand tenderly down his cheek. He gave her a grin, finally realizing what a mess he must look like with his tattered clothes and his bloodied face.
“I’ll tell ya all ‘bout it when I’s get back, ‘kay? Righ’ now, I’s gonna walk Ava out.” She nodded, and he kissed her gently one last time before turning to the pink-haired girl and gesturing her out. "Roz, you stay here, doan move from dis spot.” He gave her a serious glare, and she nodded again.
There was silence between the two aliens as they walked to the elevator, but when the door dinged shut, Zan turned to Ava. “I’s doan unda’stand, Aves… I sawsaw you…”
She shrugged, “I’s been practicin’,” she said by way of explanation. “Look,” she turned to him, meeting his gaze, her blue eyes serious, “I knows I been jealous, but I knows how much she means ta ya. And I’s told ya before, Zan, it’s always gonna be you.”
He couldn’t say anything to that, so when the doors opened once more Ava stepped out, looked over her shoulder with a sad smile, and waved. “See ya ‘round.”
The doors shut once more and Zan pressed the button for his floor. He scrubbed his face with his hands and walked back to the apartment, where Roz was busy moving everything abck into it’s rightful place. He considered scolding her about moving, but his relief was too great. She was okay. She was safe from this alien madness for at least a while longer.
His gut clenched, he needed her, now.
Zan strode to her, scooping her up into his arms, and started toward the bedroom.
TBC...
Anybody expect that twist?
Please leave feedback!"That which is loved is always beautiful." - Norwegian Proverb
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dreamangel
- Addicted Roswellian
- Posts: 176
- Joined: Tue Oct 09, 2001 4:58 pm
- Location: far from reality
Sorry! I had a computer problem in which the Internet didn't seem to want to connect. I haven't finished this whole part yet, but I will by, well, later tonight. right now, I'm for bed and you guys get the first portion.
Cementing ahead!
~25~
“Zan?” she asked, laughing a little, but he silenced her with a kiss.
“Later,” he muttered, and then captured her mouth again. Roz submitted willingly. She could sense his desperation, and while she didn’t fully understand the cause of such urgency, she certainly wasn’t going to complain about it.
She had been so afraid when she had walked back into the apartment, and when she had seen Zan, hurt, the fear had nearly overwhelmed her. But he had said he was all right, and she had to trust that he was, but she was going to check him over herself, just to be sure.
He didn’t take the time to put the mattress back on the bed, and he didn’t waste any stripping them of their clothes and laying Roz down on it. He was moving like a man possessed, and, in a way, he was.
There was something in him that needed to be set free. Something primal and undeniable. Someone had tried to take his girl away from him. Someone had tried to hurt her. A growl rose in his throat, and he held onto Roz tighter.
Roz was worried. He wasn’t hurting her, wasn’t scaring her, but there was something about the way he acted that told her he wasn’t just making love to her because he wanted to. Something in his unearthly amber eyes that told her he needed it. Needed her. His hands were flying over her skin, his body was deep within hers, pushing them both toward release, and then he stopped.
“Zan?”
He met her eyes, her beautiful brown eyes, and he nearly crumbled. “I’s sorry, sweets,” he whispered, stroking his thumbs over her soft, flushed cheeks.
“About what?” she asked, “I’m not mad you didn’t call, Zan. I was just worried.” He shook his head. “What is it, Zan?” She wrapped her arms around him, lightly dragging her fingernails over his back. He shivered, and started moving again, this time more slowly, but he never answered.
Zan pressed a kiss to the hollow of her throat and then rose up on his elbows again, watching her face as he thrust in and out of her welcoming body. How could he apologize for putting her in danger because he was an alien? How could he tell her that her life was in jeopardy because he loved her?
He couldn’t. He couldn’t, because if she left him, he’d fall apart. But if she was hurt because if him, he’d die…
Was there a right choice in this situation?
No, because this situation should never have existed.
He never should have dragged her into his f*cked up life. But what, he thought bleakly, would his life have been like the past months without her shining presence? Oh, he knew. He knew as he watched her eyes lose their focus, how they would have been. A quickie in the alley behind the bar with an unknown woman, maybe a kid with Ava, end up with his b*tch sister doing him in just for some f*cked up Summit and a chance at the godd*mn throne.
He wouldn’t have had a life. He woulda been a dead man walking. Walking and talking trash, never knowing what it coulda been like.
And there it was. Roz arched up beneath him, body taut like a bow, and then she let out a soft gasp and relaxed. He felt himself climax, sinking into her warm body, and things went white for a long moment.
There was always this feeling of a haze for an hour afterward. Zan had pulled a sheet over them as they cuddled together. Roz smiled contentedly as he spooned against her back, his hands making lazy circles on her bare arms. She settled into him, eyes drooping with tiredness. “I feel like I’m glowing,” she murmured, “You always make me feel like I’m glowing.”
Zan didn’t smile, but she couldn’t see his face. He stared at the silver light shimmering beneath her petal-smooth skin at his touch. Another reminder that he couldn’t give her the life she deserved. “Yous make me glow too, sweets. On da inside.” He pressed a kiss to her shoulder as her breathing evened out.
He stayed awake for hours, caressing her arms, shoulders, hair… So fragile, he thought, so innocent, so very human, was his Rosalyn.
In the end, he fell asleep, holding her close, vowing that no one would take her innocence away. That no one would break her.
~
TBC...
Pretty please leave feedback!
Cementing ahead!
~25~
“Zan?” she asked, laughing a little, but he silenced her with a kiss.
“Later,” he muttered, and then captured her mouth again. Roz submitted willingly. She could sense his desperation, and while she didn’t fully understand the cause of such urgency, she certainly wasn’t going to complain about it.
She had been so afraid when she had walked back into the apartment, and when she had seen Zan, hurt, the fear had nearly overwhelmed her. But he had said he was all right, and she had to trust that he was, but she was going to check him over herself, just to be sure.
He didn’t take the time to put the mattress back on the bed, and he didn’t waste any stripping them of their clothes and laying Roz down on it. He was moving like a man possessed, and, in a way, he was.
There was something in him that needed to be set free. Something primal and undeniable. Someone had tried to take his girl away from him. Someone had tried to hurt her. A growl rose in his throat, and he held onto Roz tighter.
Roz was worried. He wasn’t hurting her, wasn’t scaring her, but there was something about the way he acted that told her he wasn’t just making love to her because he wanted to. Something in his unearthly amber eyes that told her he needed it. Needed her. His hands were flying over her skin, his body was deep within hers, pushing them both toward release, and then he stopped.
“Zan?”
He met her eyes, her beautiful brown eyes, and he nearly crumbled. “I’s sorry, sweets,” he whispered, stroking his thumbs over her soft, flushed cheeks.
“About what?” she asked, “I’m not mad you didn’t call, Zan. I was just worried.” He shook his head. “What is it, Zan?” She wrapped her arms around him, lightly dragging her fingernails over his back. He shivered, and started moving again, this time more slowly, but he never answered.
Zan pressed a kiss to the hollow of her throat and then rose up on his elbows again, watching her face as he thrust in and out of her welcoming body. How could he apologize for putting her in danger because he was an alien? How could he tell her that her life was in jeopardy because he loved her?
He couldn’t. He couldn’t, because if she left him, he’d fall apart. But if she was hurt because if him, he’d die…
Was there a right choice in this situation?
No, because this situation should never have existed.
He never should have dragged her into his f*cked up life. But what, he thought bleakly, would his life have been like the past months without her shining presence? Oh, he knew. He knew as he watched her eyes lose their focus, how they would have been. A quickie in the alley behind the bar with an unknown woman, maybe a kid with Ava, end up with his b*tch sister doing him in just for some f*cked up Summit and a chance at the godd*mn throne.
He wouldn’t have had a life. He woulda been a dead man walking. Walking and talking trash, never knowing what it coulda been like.
And there it was. Roz arched up beneath him, body taut like a bow, and then she let out a soft gasp and relaxed. He felt himself climax, sinking into her warm body, and things went white for a long moment.
There was always this feeling of a haze for an hour afterward. Zan had pulled a sheet over them as they cuddled together. Roz smiled contentedly as he spooned against her back, his hands making lazy circles on her bare arms. She settled into him, eyes drooping with tiredness. “I feel like I’m glowing,” she murmured, “You always make me feel like I’m glowing.”
Zan didn’t smile, but she couldn’t see his face. He stared at the silver light shimmering beneath her petal-smooth skin at his touch. Another reminder that he couldn’t give her the life she deserved. “Yous make me glow too, sweets. On da inside.” He pressed a kiss to her shoulder as her breathing evened out.
He stayed awake for hours, caressing her arms, shoulders, hair… So fragile, he thought, so innocent, so very human, was his Rosalyn.
In the end, he fell asleep, holding her close, vowing that no one would take her innocence away. That no one would break her.
~
TBC...
Pretty please leave feedback!
Last edited by dreamangel on Thu Dec 04, 2003 10:51 pm, edited 1 time in total.
-
dreamangel
- Addicted Roswellian
- Posts: 176
- Joined: Tue Oct 09, 2001 4:58 pm
- Location: far from reality
Just a warning, major angst is coming up. You'll probably all end up hating me, but I've had this plan set for two years and I'm not going to change it. That said, I hope those of you that stick with me will enjoy it.
~25B~
When Zan woke up Roz was staring at him. She was sitting up, sheet wrapped around her body, with her hands clasping her knees. Her dark eyes were serious.
“What is it?” he asked, reaching for her.
She caught one of his hands and slid back down next to him. “It’s later,” she told him, “Tell me why you were so upset.”
This time it was him who moved away from her. She clung to his hand for a moment, but then released it, letting him stand. He stood, nude and beautiful, gazing down at her with a guarded expression. Roz knew he was keeping something from her. Had known it for awhile, but she had never pushed it as it never seemed to be something big enough to effect their life together.
Zan moved, mind racing, looking through the drawers displaced from the dresser for clothing. Eventually he found a pair of boxers and jeans. He threw some of Roz’s clothes towards her, making sure she got the drift and started dressing.
He watched her out of the corner of his eye as he buttoned up the black dress shirt. Her movements were graceful as she slid into her panties and bra and tugged the tight-fitting blue jeans up her slim legs. The face that popped through the opening for the head was thoughtful. She smoothed out the beige fabric and then turned to him. They stared at each other, each on one side of the bedroom.
“This wasn’t random, was it?” she asked, gesturing around to indicate the disorder that had happened to their home.
“No.”
A sharp intake of breath, and a nod. “Okay.” They stared some more. “So what was it about? Drugs, money? The guy who beat you up at the bar have a couple of friends?” She felt like she was going to cry, and didn’t understand half the words coming out of her mouth, but she was regretting them.
Zan didn’t flinch at the harsh accusations. He knew she was confused and afraid that he was keeping something from her. Which, he was. “I’s din’t get beat up at da bar, Roz.”
She closed her eyes, and when she opened them, the tears that were threatening escaped. “Then where did you get the bruises, Zan? How did your clothes get torn? Were you in a gang? Are they coming after you now? Is Ava in on it? Is that why she came for me? Or did you know what was going to happen and sent her?” she fired the questions, one after the other, trying to rationalize why he lied to her. He never talked about his past…
“Naw, sweets, I ain’t in gang, not really, and Aves… I thought she was in on it, but when I’s came back and she was here… She’s wit’ me on this, wit’ us.” He moved closer, wiping the wetness from her eyes. He hated when she cried. “Nicholas and my sis, Lonnie, did this. Rath helped.”
She saw his eyes darken. It was obvious he hadn’t expected his own sister and best friend to turn on him. He spoke of them rarely to her, and then only in short, clipped sentences. “I’m sorry, Zan.”
He shrugged and moved past her, heading for the kitchen. “Can’t say I’s wasn’t expectin’ it.”
His flippancy at the betrayal astounded her, and she followed him. “How could you have?” she demanded, “And why would they do this to you? I thought they were your family?”
He gave another shrug and grabbed a 20oz cherry coke. At least they hadn’t messed up the refrigerator. “Family doan mean nothin’ to them.”
Why was he being so calm? Why wasn’t he outraged? “I don’t understand.” She watched him freeze, his back to her. She could practically feel him tense up, and then he turned around. His eyes were no longer shielded, they were black with emotions. But it wasn’t the black of passion she was used to seeing, it was the black of rage and despair.
“No, you doan f*ckin’ unda’stand!” he shouted, and then he swept out his arm. Roz jumped back, frightened for the first time since meeting him, and watched as the crystal vase, holding red roses that were beginning to wilt, flew off the kitchen table and into the counter and shattered.
She wrapped her arms around herself and gaped at him, wide-eyed. “Zan…”
“You doan unda’stand what could happened to ya Rosalyn,” his voice had lost some of its fury and had receded to a weary sadness, “Yous doan know."
“Tell me,” she whispered. He shook his head, looking miserable now. “Tell me,” she repeated, more strident.
“I’m da man, Rosalyn, I’s bet ya din’t know that.”
“Zan, this isn’t the time to be cocky and-“
He cut her off. “I ain’t bein’ cocky, Roz, I’m a f*ckin’ king.”
It was her turn to get angry now. She was trying to be serious, she was trying to understand why their house had been vandalized and why he had been so d*mn sure she had been hurt when he got home. And what was he doing? He was being an *ss!
“I ain’t human neither.”
He looked at her for her reaction, and saw her eyes narrowed in irritation. It was obvious she didn’t believe him, but he hadn’t really expected her to. He reached out a hand toward the broken vase and concentrated. Slowly, ever so slowly, as it was more one of Ava’s powers that him, the crystal shards started coming together until the vase was whole and unbroken and sitting on the table as if it had never left.
Roz blinked rapidly at the vase, unharmed, at the flowers now zooming from their positions on the floor back into it. She was insane. Zan was insane. This whole situation was insane. Her knees were wobbling.
He had the chair out for her to fall into before she could collapse to the floor. She was staring at the vase, and the flowers Zan had bought for her months ago. He reached out again and touched them lightly. Her brown eyes widened even more as they began to bloom again, as they became the bright vibrant red they had been when first picked.
“So what are you then?” she asked faintly, dragging her eyes from the flowers and their holder. He was leaning against the table, watching her.
“I’m an alien king.”
“Oh.”
“My sis, she wants da throne. Rath, he wants ta go home.”
“Home,” she echoed, “As in, up there?” She pointed with her finger.
“Yeah, as in up there. Da Skins, they’s Nicholas’, they want me dead, or at least to voluntarily gives up da throne. This mess was to get ta me.” He met her eyes, “Theys wanted you to get ta me.”
“I still don’t understand,” she said.
He nodded. “We got ourselves a civil war on Antar. There’s Kivar, who killed me an’ my peeps on one side, and my mutha’ who cloned us hybrids and sent us here, ta Earth. Mom’s resistance woan stop ‘til her babies are good and dead. ‘Til we make it clear we ain’t comin’ back. So Kivar sends Nicky-boy to do his dirty work. He goes for Lons, who takes da bait, and now I’s gotta give it all up and walk inta a trap at some f*cked up intergalactic Summit. Only, I’s doan wanna play their way. So’s they needed ya, ta get ta me. Got it?”
She nodded, head reeling. “How did they know about me?”
Zan gestured to his face, “Ambush, I got ‘raped.”
“What?” she shrieked, jumping to her feet.
“Mindraped,” he said, “It’s Nicky’s specialty. See, crap like this doan hurt me.” He touched his face again, eyes on hers, and she watched as the bruises and small cuts went away as if they were never there. “But a mindrape… It violates da deepest part of a person, Roz, he can take every single one of my weaknesses and explot them.” He reached out and took her arms, rubbing his hands up and down them. “But yous is my only weakness Rosalyn Braver.”
She couldn’t think. She could barely breathe. There was a pounding in her head that wouldn’t go away. Roz stared at him, at the man she loved. He was an alien. He was a king. He was the cause of an intergalactic war. A swell of psychotic laughter tried to break free, but she clamped a hand to her mouth, preventing its escape.
“I have to go,” she said.
“What?”
She turned out of his embrace and headed for the door. “I have to go. I have to think.” She grabbed her coat and put it on. He had followed her to the door, and he prevented her from opening it.
“Roz-“
“Please, Zan,” she said, voice unnaturally high. He could detect the not of panic in it. “Please let me go.”
Did she know how hard that was. He stared down at her bent head, her dark hair hiding her expression. She wouldn’t even look at him. “You can’t tell Red, Roz,” he said.
She finally looked up, and her eyes echoed her panicked expression. “I won’t tell Josselin, Zan. I won’t put you in danger. I won’t put her in danger.”
There it was. The subtle reminder that he had not given her the same courtesy. That he ahd put her in danger all unknowingly. He wondered if she even knew she had done it. If she knew how hard that implication hit. And even as she accused, she protected. She wouldn’t do anything to hurt him. Physically anyway. Her response had already cut him to the quick.
He nodded and stepped aside. She moved past him and out into the hallway. Zan caught her arm. “I love you.”
She looked back at him, and then was gone.
~
Josselin was sleeping. Roz could hear her snoring from her position on the dorm room floor. She had asked a lot of questions about what had caused Roz to show up on her doorstep so late at night, she had been sure it had something to do with Zan, but Roz had not been forthcoming with answers. She wouldn’t have told Joss even if Zan hadn’t told her she couldn’t.
Josselin couldn’t understand what Rosalyn felt for the man in the first place, she certainly wouldn’t understand the feelings she was having now.
Roz got up quietly and walked to Joss’ desk. She gently slid the phone out of the cradle and dialed the familiar number. It rang twice.
“Hello?” The masculine voice, always so reassuring and protective.
“Daddy?”
~
Philly looked up in surprise when Bob opened the door to The Haze and escorted a young female in. he was even more surprised when he saw it was Zan’s girl and his adored Red’s best friend. “Ms. Braver?”
“Hi, Philly.”
“Zan doesn’t start his shift for another hour.” He told her, not missing the flinch when he said his bartender’s name, not the regret lurking in her pretty eyes. Even behind the plastic frames of her glasses.
“I know. Could you just give him this?” She extended an envelope and he took it, reading Zan’s name on the cream-colored paper.
He raised an eyebrow. “Sure thing.”
“Thank you.” She gave him a smile, a sad one, and a small wave, and then she walked back out of the bar.
~
Tbc...
I warned you! Was it heartwrenching enough? I'll try not to wait too long before I post 26, until then, please leave feedback!
~Nicole
~25B~
When Zan woke up Roz was staring at him. She was sitting up, sheet wrapped around her body, with her hands clasping her knees. Her dark eyes were serious.
“What is it?” he asked, reaching for her.
She caught one of his hands and slid back down next to him. “It’s later,” she told him, “Tell me why you were so upset.”
This time it was him who moved away from her. She clung to his hand for a moment, but then released it, letting him stand. He stood, nude and beautiful, gazing down at her with a guarded expression. Roz knew he was keeping something from her. Had known it for awhile, but she had never pushed it as it never seemed to be something big enough to effect their life together.
Zan moved, mind racing, looking through the drawers displaced from the dresser for clothing. Eventually he found a pair of boxers and jeans. He threw some of Roz’s clothes towards her, making sure she got the drift and started dressing.
He watched her out of the corner of his eye as he buttoned up the black dress shirt. Her movements were graceful as she slid into her panties and bra and tugged the tight-fitting blue jeans up her slim legs. The face that popped through the opening for the head was thoughtful. She smoothed out the beige fabric and then turned to him. They stared at each other, each on one side of the bedroom.
“This wasn’t random, was it?” she asked, gesturing around to indicate the disorder that had happened to their home.
“No.”
A sharp intake of breath, and a nod. “Okay.” They stared some more. “So what was it about? Drugs, money? The guy who beat you up at the bar have a couple of friends?” She felt like she was going to cry, and didn’t understand half the words coming out of her mouth, but she was regretting them.
Zan didn’t flinch at the harsh accusations. He knew she was confused and afraid that he was keeping something from her. Which, he was. “I’s din’t get beat up at da bar, Roz.”
She closed her eyes, and when she opened them, the tears that were threatening escaped. “Then where did you get the bruises, Zan? How did your clothes get torn? Were you in a gang? Are they coming after you now? Is Ava in on it? Is that why she came for me? Or did you know what was going to happen and sent her?” she fired the questions, one after the other, trying to rationalize why he lied to her. He never talked about his past…
“Naw, sweets, I ain’t in gang, not really, and Aves… I thought she was in on it, but when I’s came back and she was here… She’s wit’ me on this, wit’ us.” He moved closer, wiping the wetness from her eyes. He hated when she cried. “Nicholas and my sis, Lonnie, did this. Rath helped.”
She saw his eyes darken. It was obvious he hadn’t expected his own sister and best friend to turn on him. He spoke of them rarely to her, and then only in short, clipped sentences. “I’m sorry, Zan.”
He shrugged and moved past her, heading for the kitchen. “Can’t say I’s wasn’t expectin’ it.”
His flippancy at the betrayal astounded her, and she followed him. “How could you have?” she demanded, “And why would they do this to you? I thought they were your family?”
He gave another shrug and grabbed a 20oz cherry coke. At least they hadn’t messed up the refrigerator. “Family doan mean nothin’ to them.”
Why was he being so calm? Why wasn’t he outraged? “I don’t understand.” She watched him freeze, his back to her. She could practically feel him tense up, and then he turned around. His eyes were no longer shielded, they were black with emotions. But it wasn’t the black of passion she was used to seeing, it was the black of rage and despair.
“No, you doan f*ckin’ unda’stand!” he shouted, and then he swept out his arm. Roz jumped back, frightened for the first time since meeting him, and watched as the crystal vase, holding red roses that were beginning to wilt, flew off the kitchen table and into the counter and shattered.
She wrapped her arms around herself and gaped at him, wide-eyed. “Zan…”
“You doan unda’stand what could happened to ya Rosalyn,” his voice had lost some of its fury and had receded to a weary sadness, “Yous doan know."
“Tell me,” she whispered. He shook his head, looking miserable now. “Tell me,” she repeated, more strident.
“I’m da man, Rosalyn, I’s bet ya din’t know that.”
“Zan, this isn’t the time to be cocky and-“
He cut her off. “I ain’t bein’ cocky, Roz, I’m a f*ckin’ king.”
It was her turn to get angry now. She was trying to be serious, she was trying to understand why their house had been vandalized and why he had been so d*mn sure she had been hurt when he got home. And what was he doing? He was being an *ss!
“I ain’t human neither.”
He looked at her for her reaction, and saw her eyes narrowed in irritation. It was obvious she didn’t believe him, but he hadn’t really expected her to. He reached out a hand toward the broken vase and concentrated. Slowly, ever so slowly, as it was more one of Ava’s powers that him, the crystal shards started coming together until the vase was whole and unbroken and sitting on the table as if it had never left.
Roz blinked rapidly at the vase, unharmed, at the flowers now zooming from their positions on the floor back into it. She was insane. Zan was insane. This whole situation was insane. Her knees were wobbling.
He had the chair out for her to fall into before she could collapse to the floor. She was staring at the vase, and the flowers Zan had bought for her months ago. He reached out again and touched them lightly. Her brown eyes widened even more as they began to bloom again, as they became the bright vibrant red they had been when first picked.
“So what are you then?” she asked faintly, dragging her eyes from the flowers and their holder. He was leaning against the table, watching her.
“I’m an alien king.”
“Oh.”
“My sis, she wants da throne. Rath, he wants ta go home.”
“Home,” she echoed, “As in, up there?” She pointed with her finger.
“Yeah, as in up there. Da Skins, they’s Nicholas’, they want me dead, or at least to voluntarily gives up da throne. This mess was to get ta me.” He met her eyes, “Theys wanted you to get ta me.”
“I still don’t understand,” she said.
He nodded. “We got ourselves a civil war on Antar. There’s Kivar, who killed me an’ my peeps on one side, and my mutha’ who cloned us hybrids and sent us here, ta Earth. Mom’s resistance woan stop ‘til her babies are good and dead. ‘Til we make it clear we ain’t comin’ back. So Kivar sends Nicky-boy to do his dirty work. He goes for Lons, who takes da bait, and now I’s gotta give it all up and walk inta a trap at some f*cked up intergalactic Summit. Only, I’s doan wanna play their way. So’s they needed ya, ta get ta me. Got it?”
She nodded, head reeling. “How did they know about me?”
Zan gestured to his face, “Ambush, I got ‘raped.”
“What?” she shrieked, jumping to her feet.
“Mindraped,” he said, “It’s Nicky’s specialty. See, crap like this doan hurt me.” He touched his face again, eyes on hers, and she watched as the bruises and small cuts went away as if they were never there. “But a mindrape… It violates da deepest part of a person, Roz, he can take every single one of my weaknesses and explot them.” He reached out and took her arms, rubbing his hands up and down them. “But yous is my only weakness Rosalyn Braver.”
She couldn’t think. She could barely breathe. There was a pounding in her head that wouldn’t go away. Roz stared at him, at the man she loved. He was an alien. He was a king. He was the cause of an intergalactic war. A swell of psychotic laughter tried to break free, but she clamped a hand to her mouth, preventing its escape.
“I have to go,” she said.
“What?”
She turned out of his embrace and headed for the door. “I have to go. I have to think.” She grabbed her coat and put it on. He had followed her to the door, and he prevented her from opening it.
“Roz-“
“Please, Zan,” she said, voice unnaturally high. He could detect the not of panic in it. “Please let me go.”
Did she know how hard that was. He stared down at her bent head, her dark hair hiding her expression. She wouldn’t even look at him. “You can’t tell Red, Roz,” he said.
She finally looked up, and her eyes echoed her panicked expression. “I won’t tell Josselin, Zan. I won’t put you in danger. I won’t put her in danger.”
There it was. The subtle reminder that he had not given her the same courtesy. That he ahd put her in danger all unknowingly. He wondered if she even knew she had done it. If she knew how hard that implication hit. And even as she accused, she protected. She wouldn’t do anything to hurt him. Physically anyway. Her response had already cut him to the quick.
He nodded and stepped aside. She moved past him and out into the hallway. Zan caught her arm. “I love you.”
She looked back at him, and then was gone.
~
Josselin was sleeping. Roz could hear her snoring from her position on the dorm room floor. She had asked a lot of questions about what had caused Roz to show up on her doorstep so late at night, she had been sure it had something to do with Zan, but Roz had not been forthcoming with answers. She wouldn’t have told Joss even if Zan hadn’t told her she couldn’t.
Josselin couldn’t understand what Rosalyn felt for the man in the first place, she certainly wouldn’t understand the feelings she was having now.
Roz got up quietly and walked to Joss’ desk. She gently slid the phone out of the cradle and dialed the familiar number. It rang twice.
“Hello?” The masculine voice, always so reassuring and protective.
“Daddy?”
~
Philly looked up in surprise when Bob opened the door to The Haze and escorted a young female in. he was even more surprised when he saw it was Zan’s girl and his adored Red’s best friend. “Ms. Braver?”
“Hi, Philly.”
“Zan doesn’t start his shift for another hour.” He told her, not missing the flinch when he said his bartender’s name, not the regret lurking in her pretty eyes. Even behind the plastic frames of her glasses.
“I know. Could you just give him this?” She extended an envelope and he took it, reading Zan’s name on the cream-colored paper.
He raised an eyebrow. “Sure thing.”
“Thank you.” She gave him a smile, a sad one, and a small wave, and then she walked back out of the bar.
~
Tbc...
I warned you! Was it heartwrenching enough? I'll try not to wait too long before I post 26, until then, please leave feedback!
~Nicole
"That which is loved is always beautiful." - Norwegian Proverb
-
dreamangel
- Addicted Roswellian
- Posts: 176
- Joined: Tue Oct 09, 2001 4:58 pm
- Location: far from reality
~26~
The window had spots on it. Roz regarded the small speckles with faint distaste, but she leaned her head against it all the same. The scenery outside the spotted window was more city, and a few green patches. She sighed.
“We’ll be there in a few hours, missy,” the cab driver told her, glancing in his rear view mirror.
Roz nodded in acknowledgment, giving him a small smile, and then leaned her forehead back against the glass. She was so tired. She hadn’t slept a wink due to her worry about Zan and about what he had told her. Half of her was hoping to wake up to find it all a dream and he didn’t exist. That he was someone interesting she had made up to relieve the tediousness of the subway ride. Maybe these past few months were all a fantasy. Like on Buffy.
But no, she knew it was real. Aliens were real. Zan was a king. How had her life gotten so complicated? A sob of hysteria welled up in her, but she suppressed it, as she had all the others. She was little Rosalyn Braver, valedictorian and future journalist, nothing weird was supposed to happen to her!
“You all right there?” She turned her head sharply to look at the driver, Louis. He was watching her anxiously in the mirror and offering a stained handkerchief through the wire mesh that separated front and back seats.
“I’m fine, thank you,” she replied, wiping at the tears that had managed to escape. “I’ve just really missed by father. It’s good to be able to see him again.”
A grin crossed Louis’ wrinkled face, “Daddy’s got to be proud, having a good girl like you.” He winked at her and made her smile. He reminded her of Zaidi Paul before he had passed away. She almost expected Bubby Millie to reach over and grab his ear, scolding him for teasing Roz.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
“Get some rest there, missy, with the traffic,” he gave a sharp honk at a swerving Cadillac, “It’ll be dawn before we reach your Daddy’s.”
Her lack of sleep was catching up, so she nodded in agreement, covering a yawn with a hand, and rested against the window pane again. Her eyes fluttered as she took her last look at the night skyline of New York City, and her last thought was of her lover.
“Zan…” she breathed.
~
He felt like shit.
Zan parked his motorcycle in the alley off to the side of the Haze and went in through the employee’s entrance. He moved through the back room without seeing and headed out into the bar area.
The club hadn’t opened yet, they still had half an hour to finish setting up. Philly was taking chairs off the tables to set upright. Zan started his own routine on autopilot. His mind was still on Roz and her reaction to his confession.
He had to admit, he had expected her to be okay with the whole alien thing. It was unfair, he knew, to hold her to those expectations, but it was still damn disappointing. Zan knew most of it was his fault, he had lied to her and put her life in danger, which was the last thing he had ever wanted to do to Rosalyn. But to lose her…
Half of him was dying. Her rejection had wounded him deeper than he wanted to guess. And now he had to live without her, a bleak prospect as he had devoted all of himself to her. It just went to show that the others were right, humans couldn’t be trusted. But he had expected Roz to be different.
The other half was angry. There was a pent up rage smouldering beneath his skin. How dare she? After all she had said he meant to her, after all their promises… Worthless human bitch.
NO! Rosalyn wasn’t just any human, she wasn’t. She was different damn it! Just a little time, he thought, I’ll give her a little time and then she’ll come home. He would explain everything rationally then, she would kiss away the confusion and guilt, and everything would be okay. Everything had to be okay.
“Zan!” His head jerked up and met Philly’s moss green gaze. “I called your name ten times, Zan.”
He forced a rueful smile, “Sorry, boss man, my mind’s wanderin’. What’s up?”
“Little number walked in earlier.”
“When da bar was closed?” Zan inquired, curious. He hopped on top of the bar, heedless of the fact that Philly had just finished wiping it down.
His boss nodded and pulled a crumpled envelope out of his back pocket and handed it to Zan, who took it. “Sorry about the wrinkles.” He watched as Zan went white. “Thought you said you were going to be careful, Zan.”
Zan swallowed hard and ran a blunt finger over the delicate script of his name. “Wasn’t careful enough, Philly.” His throat closed up as he gingerly opened the sealed flap, trying not to rip the flimsy paper. He smoothed the creases out that remained from being in a pocket, and began to read eagerly.
Zan,
I love you.
There is nothing in this world or out of it that could alter that fact. But I need time to think. I need you to understand that I’m confused about this whole situation and that I need to be alone to sort it out. And, I’m hurt Zan. I’m really, really hurt that you kept this huge secret from me. And it hurts even more to think that you wouldn’t have ever told me if not for that events of this morning.
I’m not mad, not a lot. I realize why it would have been difficult to share your secret with anyone, Zan, and I thank you for trusting me. I want you to know I’ll never break that trust or abuse it in any way. I could never do you such a disservice.
I’ve gone away. I’m going to stay with my father in Albany for a while to sort myself out. I don’t know when I’ll be back. Please don’t come after me. I know it’s hard, my entire being is aching at the thought of not being near you, but it’s for the best. We both need to think.
I don’t know what’s going to happen in the future. I know you’ll be a part of me forever, you’ve branded yourself into my soul, onto my essence. It hurts to breathe without you…. I’ll always love you Zan, but I don’t know if I can forgive you for what you’ve done to me.
~Rosalyn
The dying part of him overwhelmed the angry part and despair filled every inch of him. A large wracking sob shook his whole body and he clutched the letter tightly, rereading it even as his tears blurred the perfect cursive, as they ran over the dried watermarks Roz’s own tears had left.
“Zan,” Philly said, and Zan felt the older man help him down off the bar. “Let’s get you a taxi, all right? You can’t work tonight.”
“She’s gone,” he cried wildly, clinging to his boss, “She fuckin’ left me!” He started hiccuping, and his weeping increased. “I feel like my fuckin’ heart has been torn out of my fuckin’ body,” he informed Bob when the bouncer took him so Philly could hail a cab. The big man looked at him helpless.
“All right, Zan,” Philly said softly, gently leading his broken-hearted employee to the waiting taxi cab. “We’ll get you home.”
Zan looked up at him, eyes lost, “I’s dying.”
Alarmed, Philly turned his head to Bob. “I’m going to get him settled in at his apartment, can you open up?” The burly man nodded, eyes sympathetic to his friend’s cause. Philly slid in next to Zan and told the driver the address. He had never expected to be on suicide watch for Zan, the young man was always in control. The cherry had really done a number on him.
~
The silver flask was sitting there, looking harmless. Zan stared at it with bloodshot eyes. Philly had left it before he went back to the club. Not on purpose, Zan was sure. Philly’d never condone underage drinking, of course, Zan’s license said he was 21…
He couldn’t remember what had happened the last time he had drank an alcoholic beverage. Rath had gone electric green and started frying things, Lonnie had gotten hornier than usual, and Ava had trouble distinguishing between reality and her warps.
They had told him he was an amusing drunk, it only took one sip after all, but he couldn’t even recall what he had done while intoxicated.
Well that was fine and dandy, he picked up the brandy flask and unscrewed the top. He sniffed a little and then took a hesitant sip. Everything was hazy. Good.
He wanted to forget.
~
When Philly finally got back, after discovering his missing flask on the cab ride, the club was full up and the bar was understaffed. He jumped right in, taking orders and filling up pints, and putting Zan to the back of his mind to worry about later. At least, until she came in.
He had finally learned her name, Josselin McLeeyn, due to her accompaniment of Zan’s girl. She strode purposefully up to the bar and took at seat in front of him. He was surprised to see her face cosmetic free. Her freckles were light, but noticeable. He thought they were cute.
“Red?” he asked. She twirled a strand of red hair around a fingernail that looked as if it had been bitten. Her emerald eyes were serious, and he realized she wasn’t dressed for clubbing. She hadn’t come to flirt.
“Where is he?” she demanded.
“Zan?” he inquired, not really needing her to elaborate.
“Who else?” she spat, eyes snapping, “I need to put my size 7 foot up his tight ass!”
He raised one eyebrow at the imagery. “What for?”
“My best friend came to me last night crying her pretty eyes out over the bastard!” He hands balled into two fists and she slammed them on the table.
“Funny, I just had to escort the bastard home,” he informed her, “He was so messed up I thought he might try to kill himself.”
That stopped her and she stared at him, unblinking. “What?”
“He looked like hell when he came in, then I gave him the note your friend left for him and he started bawling.” He shook his head, “Never seen a grown man cry like that. It was like someone had ripped out his soul.”
She bit her unglossed lips, something he had been wanting to do since he laid eyes on her, and shook her head as if to clear it. “All right,” she said, “That’s good then. He deserves the suffering.” Philly gaped at her and she winked. “I’ve a yen to dance Mr. Delphe, care to give me a jig?”
He leapt at the chance, thoughts of Zan and his missing flask disappearing.
~
It was one of those contented mornings. Roz huddled in on herself, trying to conserve warmth and keep hold of the dream, but Zan was calling her…. She opened bleary eyes and met his brown ones, smiling.
“Looking good, Braver.”
Roz came to herself with a jerk and glanced wildly around. It was still night, there was a glimmer of light on the horizon, and her father was settling the fee with Louis. She turned her attention to the man who had woken her up, his brown eyes met hers forthrightly. “Charlie,” she said, “Hi.”
~
TBC...
Pretty please leave feedback!
The window had spots on it. Roz regarded the small speckles with faint distaste, but she leaned her head against it all the same. The scenery outside the spotted window was more city, and a few green patches. She sighed.
“We’ll be there in a few hours, missy,” the cab driver told her, glancing in his rear view mirror.
Roz nodded in acknowledgment, giving him a small smile, and then leaned her forehead back against the glass. She was so tired. She hadn’t slept a wink due to her worry about Zan and about what he had told her. Half of her was hoping to wake up to find it all a dream and he didn’t exist. That he was someone interesting she had made up to relieve the tediousness of the subway ride. Maybe these past few months were all a fantasy. Like on Buffy.
But no, she knew it was real. Aliens were real. Zan was a king. How had her life gotten so complicated? A sob of hysteria welled up in her, but she suppressed it, as she had all the others. She was little Rosalyn Braver, valedictorian and future journalist, nothing weird was supposed to happen to her!
“You all right there?” She turned her head sharply to look at the driver, Louis. He was watching her anxiously in the mirror and offering a stained handkerchief through the wire mesh that separated front and back seats.
“I’m fine, thank you,” she replied, wiping at the tears that had managed to escape. “I’ve just really missed by father. It’s good to be able to see him again.”
A grin crossed Louis’ wrinkled face, “Daddy’s got to be proud, having a good girl like you.” He winked at her and made her smile. He reminded her of Zaidi Paul before he had passed away. She almost expected Bubby Millie to reach over and grab his ear, scolding him for teasing Roz.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
“Get some rest there, missy, with the traffic,” he gave a sharp honk at a swerving Cadillac, “It’ll be dawn before we reach your Daddy’s.”
Her lack of sleep was catching up, so she nodded in agreement, covering a yawn with a hand, and rested against the window pane again. Her eyes fluttered as she took her last look at the night skyline of New York City, and her last thought was of her lover.
“Zan…” she breathed.
~
He felt like shit.
Zan parked his motorcycle in the alley off to the side of the Haze and went in through the employee’s entrance. He moved through the back room without seeing and headed out into the bar area.
The club hadn’t opened yet, they still had half an hour to finish setting up. Philly was taking chairs off the tables to set upright. Zan started his own routine on autopilot. His mind was still on Roz and her reaction to his confession.
He had to admit, he had expected her to be okay with the whole alien thing. It was unfair, he knew, to hold her to those expectations, but it was still damn disappointing. Zan knew most of it was his fault, he had lied to her and put her life in danger, which was the last thing he had ever wanted to do to Rosalyn. But to lose her…
Half of him was dying. Her rejection had wounded him deeper than he wanted to guess. And now he had to live without her, a bleak prospect as he had devoted all of himself to her. It just went to show that the others were right, humans couldn’t be trusted. But he had expected Roz to be different.
The other half was angry. There was a pent up rage smouldering beneath his skin. How dare she? After all she had said he meant to her, after all their promises… Worthless human bitch.
NO! Rosalyn wasn’t just any human, she wasn’t. She was different damn it! Just a little time, he thought, I’ll give her a little time and then she’ll come home. He would explain everything rationally then, she would kiss away the confusion and guilt, and everything would be okay. Everything had to be okay.
“Zan!” His head jerked up and met Philly’s moss green gaze. “I called your name ten times, Zan.”
He forced a rueful smile, “Sorry, boss man, my mind’s wanderin’. What’s up?”
“Little number walked in earlier.”
“When da bar was closed?” Zan inquired, curious. He hopped on top of the bar, heedless of the fact that Philly had just finished wiping it down.
His boss nodded and pulled a crumpled envelope out of his back pocket and handed it to Zan, who took it. “Sorry about the wrinkles.” He watched as Zan went white. “Thought you said you were going to be careful, Zan.”
Zan swallowed hard and ran a blunt finger over the delicate script of his name. “Wasn’t careful enough, Philly.” His throat closed up as he gingerly opened the sealed flap, trying not to rip the flimsy paper. He smoothed the creases out that remained from being in a pocket, and began to read eagerly.
Zan,
I love you.
There is nothing in this world or out of it that could alter that fact. But I need time to think. I need you to understand that I’m confused about this whole situation and that I need to be alone to sort it out. And, I’m hurt Zan. I’m really, really hurt that you kept this huge secret from me. And it hurts even more to think that you wouldn’t have ever told me if not for that events of this morning.
I’m not mad, not a lot. I realize why it would have been difficult to share your secret with anyone, Zan, and I thank you for trusting me. I want you to know I’ll never break that trust or abuse it in any way. I could never do you such a disservice.
I’ve gone away. I’m going to stay with my father in Albany for a while to sort myself out. I don’t know when I’ll be back. Please don’t come after me. I know it’s hard, my entire being is aching at the thought of not being near you, but it’s for the best. We both need to think.
I don’t know what’s going to happen in the future. I know you’ll be a part of me forever, you’ve branded yourself into my soul, onto my essence. It hurts to breathe without you…. I’ll always love you Zan, but I don’t know if I can forgive you for what you’ve done to me.
~Rosalyn
The dying part of him overwhelmed the angry part and despair filled every inch of him. A large wracking sob shook his whole body and he clutched the letter tightly, rereading it even as his tears blurred the perfect cursive, as they ran over the dried watermarks Roz’s own tears had left.
“Zan,” Philly said, and Zan felt the older man help him down off the bar. “Let’s get you a taxi, all right? You can’t work tonight.”
“She’s gone,” he cried wildly, clinging to his boss, “She fuckin’ left me!” He started hiccuping, and his weeping increased. “I feel like my fuckin’ heart has been torn out of my fuckin’ body,” he informed Bob when the bouncer took him so Philly could hail a cab. The big man looked at him helpless.
“All right, Zan,” Philly said softly, gently leading his broken-hearted employee to the waiting taxi cab. “We’ll get you home.”
Zan looked up at him, eyes lost, “I’s dying.”
Alarmed, Philly turned his head to Bob. “I’m going to get him settled in at his apartment, can you open up?” The burly man nodded, eyes sympathetic to his friend’s cause. Philly slid in next to Zan and told the driver the address. He had never expected to be on suicide watch for Zan, the young man was always in control. The cherry had really done a number on him.
~
The silver flask was sitting there, looking harmless. Zan stared at it with bloodshot eyes. Philly had left it before he went back to the club. Not on purpose, Zan was sure. Philly’d never condone underage drinking, of course, Zan’s license said he was 21…
He couldn’t remember what had happened the last time he had drank an alcoholic beverage. Rath had gone electric green and started frying things, Lonnie had gotten hornier than usual, and Ava had trouble distinguishing between reality and her warps.
They had told him he was an amusing drunk, it only took one sip after all, but he couldn’t even recall what he had done while intoxicated.
Well that was fine and dandy, he picked up the brandy flask and unscrewed the top. He sniffed a little and then took a hesitant sip. Everything was hazy. Good.
He wanted to forget.
~
When Philly finally got back, after discovering his missing flask on the cab ride, the club was full up and the bar was understaffed. He jumped right in, taking orders and filling up pints, and putting Zan to the back of his mind to worry about later. At least, until she came in.
He had finally learned her name, Josselin McLeeyn, due to her accompaniment of Zan’s girl. She strode purposefully up to the bar and took at seat in front of him. He was surprised to see her face cosmetic free. Her freckles were light, but noticeable. He thought they were cute.
“Red?” he asked. She twirled a strand of red hair around a fingernail that looked as if it had been bitten. Her emerald eyes were serious, and he realized she wasn’t dressed for clubbing. She hadn’t come to flirt.
“Where is he?” she demanded.
“Zan?” he inquired, not really needing her to elaborate.
“Who else?” she spat, eyes snapping, “I need to put my size 7 foot up his tight ass!”
He raised one eyebrow at the imagery. “What for?”
“My best friend came to me last night crying her pretty eyes out over the bastard!” He hands balled into two fists and she slammed them on the table.
“Funny, I just had to escort the bastard home,” he informed her, “He was so messed up I thought he might try to kill himself.”
That stopped her and she stared at him, unblinking. “What?”
“He looked like hell when he came in, then I gave him the note your friend left for him and he started bawling.” He shook his head, “Never seen a grown man cry like that. It was like someone had ripped out his soul.”
She bit her unglossed lips, something he had been wanting to do since he laid eyes on her, and shook her head as if to clear it. “All right,” she said, “That’s good then. He deserves the suffering.” Philly gaped at her and she winked. “I’ve a yen to dance Mr. Delphe, care to give me a jig?”
He leapt at the chance, thoughts of Zan and his missing flask disappearing.
~
It was one of those contented mornings. Roz huddled in on herself, trying to conserve warmth and keep hold of the dream, but Zan was calling her…. She opened bleary eyes and met his brown ones, smiling.
“Looking good, Braver.”
Roz came to herself with a jerk and glanced wildly around. It was still night, there was a glimmer of light on the horizon, and her father was settling the fee with Louis. She turned her attention to the man who had woken her up, his brown eyes met hers forthrightly. “Charlie,” she said, “Hi.”
~
TBC...
Pretty please leave feedback!
"That which is loved is always beautiful." - Norwegian Proverb
-
dreamangel
- Addicted Roswellian
- Posts: 176
- Joined: Tue Oct 09, 2001 4:58 pm
- Location: far from reality
Okay, I had problems with this part, and it's still not perfect, but I have a feeling it's the best it's going to get. Thanks to Asianbehr for all feedback!
~27~
The air was crisp. Roz closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them again Charlie was standing beside her with a wine glass. She raised one eyebrow.
“Sprite,” he told her, grinning. She managed a small smile back and took the glass, sipping politely as she turned back to the view. Charlie leaned against the balcony railing nonchalantly. “Makes you wonder, huh?”
“About what?” she inquired.
“About what’s out there,” he informed her. He made a sweeping gesture with one arm, encompassing the night sky in it. “There’s billions of stars Rosie, something has to be out there.”
“Are you taking about life on other planets?” She slid him a look out of the corner of her eye. “And don’t call me Rosie.”
He turned around, giving her yet another charming grin. “Yes Rosalyn,” he stated, “I am. And stop calling me Charlie.”
She rolled her eyes. “Charles then, and what made you bring up the subject?” It hurt to look up at those brilliant lights and think of Zan. Of where he came from and where he might be going. She felt tears prick her eyes and she downed her soda.
“That’s what,” Charlie said, and he gently wiped away her tears. “Every night you come out here and just stare.” His expression got very solemn. “And you cry, Rosie. Your dad may not notice when you’re not yourself, but I do. I’ve spent every summer of my life with you Braver, I know you almost as well as myself.” Roz gave a choked little sob and he reached out and pulled her into a fierce hug.
“Charlie,” she whispered, hugging him back. He had been her lifeline here. It had surprised her to see him that first morning. Her father hadn’t told her that Charlie was interning at his law office and staying with him until Mr. and Mrs. Schneider got back from their World Tour. It had ended up as a pleasant surprise though.
He was always there when she started to get depressed, dragging her out to go to a movie or to play paintball. He interrupted her when she started getting too involved in her homework, which her professors had been understanding enough to e-mail to her, and made her play video games or bake cookies. And when her dad made her go to these parties he threw for his clients every night, Charlie would join her in a corner and they’d make disparaging remarks about the ladies’ dresses and the men's suits.
He did know her better than her parents, and as well as Josselin. But not as well as Zan. She gave him another squeeze and then stepped away. “That doesn’t explain how the subject of alien lifeforms came about,” she prodded, trying to smile.
She managed a real one when he gave another grin. His internal happiness was always infectious. “Well, I figured some alien king came and stole your heart and then left it in itty bitty pieces when the mothership came and beamed him back up. That would explain why the stars make you cry right?” He looked at her, waiting for her to laugh at his joke.
She couldn’t even fake it. Roz felt her face pale and her entire body tremble, and she gazed at him with wide-eyed horror. Was he one of Zan’s enemies? Was he- No, she shook her head, this was Charlie Schneider, he had come to the hospital the day she was born. He was human, like her. The panic that had frozen her body calmed. She couldn’t think like that. She shouldn’t even have to think like that. “I need a drink,” she said and walked past him.
“Rosie, wait,” Charlie cried, grabbing her arm, “What is it? Tell me what’s wrong. I’m sorry for joking, all right? I didn’t realize the issue was so sensitive.”
She shook her head, “Don’t worry, Charlie.” Roz mustered a lip quirk, which was close to a smile, really. “And don’t call me Rosie.” She twisted out of his grip and went back to the business party, smoothing her black satin skirt down. A gesture that took the place of hair tucking when it was up.
The champagne bottle was easy to take, and even easier to walk out of the room with. She saw Charlie trying to get through the crowd as she ducked into her father’s study. He hadn’t meant it, she knew. He didn’t know. Would never know. But it still hit too close too her heart. It still hurt.
She popped the cork. For a night, hopefully, she could forget Zan. Could forget what he made her feel. Forget she was in love.
~
He claimed to have no memory of the mindrape. Zan was playing hockey with Rath, both boyos taking hard knocks. Lonnie watched her brother carefully. There was something different about him, but nothing that disputed his blank look when she apologized that first night he had come back.
She hadn’t meant it of course, but when her little bro walked back into their crib a few weeks ago looking disheveled and drunk, she had stepped up, had said ‘No hard feelings?’ and Zan had hiccuped ‘’Bout what?’ And that had been the end of it.
He told them he had quit his job and broken up with his girl and wanted to come home. Well, open arms, baby. They were playing a different angle this time, she and Nicholas. Nicholas had been in his head, he knew what buttons to push to get Zan to agree to the terms. They just had to play him the right way.
The other two boneheads wouldn’t be much help. Rath was moldable, he still had a chip on his shoulders about something, and he’d help take down Zan if something got screwed up. Ava couldn’t be confided in. Lonnie knew the meek little bride would go with the flow. Hell, she was happy as a clam that Zan was back with his family and in her bed. Not that they were fuckin’ or nothin’.
Yeah, she decided as she lay down on the couch for a nap, the Summit was in a couple weeks, they’d have everything worked out by then. Lonnie glanced at Zan again. “Plan A or Plan B, lil’ bro, it’s your choice,” she murmured as she closed her eyes.
~
“Hello, this is Kelly speaking.”
“Hi, Kel!” Roz said to Josselin’s roommate, “Is Joss in?”
“One sec.” Roz heard the phone clink onto the desk and a loud “JOSSELIN! PHONE!” from the other end.
“Hello?”
It was Joss’ voice. “Heya, Joss! Guess who?”
“Roz?”
“Yupper daisies!” Rosalyn giggled into the phone, “You’re soooo smart, Joss.” She twirled around in her dad’s desk chair, the phone cord wrapping itself around her body. She giggled again. “I’m stuck,” she informed her best friend.
“Stuck?” Joss repeated, sounding confused, “Stuck where?”
Roz giggled again, “In Daddy’s chair, silly!” She hiccuped loudly. “Whoops.” Cautiously, she looked around to see if anyone had noticed, and then hiccuped again.
“Roz, are you drunk?” Joss asked, bewildered. Her levelheaded friend sounded too weird to be her normal self. “Rosalyn?” she asked again when no answer came. She was hearing some funny grunting noises, interspersed with the occasional hiccup. She sighed, figuring it would take awhile to get to the bottom of this incident.
Rosalyn had come to the brilliant conclusion that she needed to wiggle her way out of the chair, and had proceeded to do so. Unfortunately, in her intoxicated state, she had just gotten herself more tangled. Her skirt had hiked up to reveal black lace panties and her blouse had gotten twisted so that if she moved again, it would rip. Not to mention she was an inch away from strangling herself on the phone cord. With difficulty, she reached the phone. “It’s not working!” she wailed, “You made it worse!”
“Me?” Joss said, “What did I do?” Silence. “Roz, what exactly happened?”
The brown-haired girl sniffled into the phone. “The cord wrapped around me when I swiveled the chair,” she informed her friend.
Joss took a deep breath, held it, and then released. “Why don’t you spin in the opposite direction until you’re free?” she suggested.
“Okay,” Roz agreed simply.
At any other time, Josselin would have found a drunk Rosalyn vastly amusing. But, it was eleven o’clock at night and she had an organic chemistry test in the morning. Revenge would be sweet, she decided. “Did it work?” she inquired.
Roz nodded happily. “Arigatou,” she said.
“Roz,” Joss said patiently, “No Japanese, I can barely understand your English right now.”
“Hai,” Roz replied and Joss sighed, “Ooh, did you know my dad has Vodka in his desk, Joss?” She grabbed the glass bottle and gulped its contents quickly.
“No,” Joss replied, “I did not know that.” Hacking coughs met her ears. “Roz! You didn’t drink-“
“Woah,” Roz said, sounding semi-normal, “That had a lot of kick to it.” Her mouth felt like it was full of cotton. “Have you ever had Vodka Joss?”
“No.”
“Don’t try it.”
“Okay.”
Her throat was burning. “Good.”
“Why are you drinking, lovey?” Joss inquired, sympathetic.
Rosalyn’s head felt heavy. She leaned her forehead on her free palm, a headache coming on. “Have you seen Zan recently?” she questioned softly.
Joss bit her lip, her heart going out to the broken sounding girl on the other side. “No, lovey. Philly told me he quit working at the Haze, and he’s moved out of his apartment.” She had gone there to give him an ass-whooping.
“Oh,” Roz said, even more quietly. Tears were threatening, making the area behind her eyes pound. And then she realized the pounding wasn’t all in her head. Her head shot up at Charlie’s voice through the wood. Bad idea, she realized, as nausea overcame her. The phone fell to the floor with a loud sound as she rushed to the bathroom connected to the office.
“Rosalyn?” Charlie finally managed to get the key to work and he flung open the door. He had been delayed when some older female clients had cornered him, much to his intense dismay. The lighting was dim, but the glow coming from the bathroom indicated where Rosalyn had gone. Charlie stopped near the desk, noting the empty champagne bottle and the newly opened Vodka, as well as the phone missing from the hook.
Getting down on his hands and knees, and traced the cord to the headset and brought it to his ear. “Hello?”
“Who’s this?” came the suspicious voice.
“This is Charles Schneider, who is this?” he retorted.
“No way!” came the feminine exclamation, “It’s Josselin McLeeyn from summer camp!”
“Hey!” he cried, remembering the redheaded whirlwind that had pushed him into the pool one summer for talking to Rosalyn, “How have you been? Made anyone drown lately?”
She laughed, “Good, and no. Do you know how Roz got a hold of alcohol?” The accusation in her voice was obvious.
“You wound me,” he said, “I’ll have you know-” He cut off as sounds of retching came from the bathroom. “Roz’ll have to call you back,” he said quickly, dropping the phone back into the cradle, and hurrying to where his ‘date’ had gone.
She was hunched up wretchedly, worshipping the porcelain god. He bit back a grin and knelt beside her, holding back the hair that had escaped it hair-sprayed confines. After awhile, she stopped heaving and he helped her to lean against the sink counter. “I’m sorry,” she whispered as he wet a washcloth and wiped gently at her face.
This time he did grin at her miserable state. “You know what would have been really funny?”
“What?” she asked warily.
“If it had been non-alcoholic,” he told her.
“Shut up!” she shouted, swatting at him, but a glimmer had lit up her brown eyes.
“C’mon,” he said, hoisting her up to standing position, “Let’s get you into bed.” She nodded, and let him lead her. There were a couple of close calls with wandering guests, who would have been shocked to find Richard Braver’s prim and proper eighteen year old daughter tousled and inebriated. Luckily, playing secret agent had been one of Charlie’s childhood past times, and he got them undetected to Roz’s bedroom.
She tumbled into it unceremoniously, letting Charlie strip her without protest. She sat up on her bed, looking at him as he found her nightgown. “Hands up,” he ordered, slipping it over her head and shoulders and then straightening it around her body. “Now, under the covers.”
She scrambled to do his bidding as he tucked her in, kissing her forehead gently. “You’ll make a good mother,” she told him seriously. He laughed and shook his head, heading back out. “Wait!” she called, “Stay with me for a bit.” He paused for a long moment, back turned, and then came back.
The bed was big enough for two, and Charlie stayed on top of the covers. She cuddled against him, closing her eyes as he stroked her head gently, the way her mother had when she had been a child. “Was he that important?” he inquired delicately.
She didn’t question him knowing it was a boy problem, she just nodded. “I love him.”
“Then what happened, Rosie?”
The dam broke, and her tears came flooding out. “I broke our hearts.”
~
“So, what da we do if it doan work?” Rath asked, his concentration mostly on getting Link to the next level of the game. Lonnie sat down next to him, unscrewing the top to a 20 oz. Coke.
“Then we go to Plan B,” she said coolly. Zan and Ava had gone out to scrounge up some dinner, leaving her and Rath alone.
“And what exactly is Plan B?” he asked, falling off the couch due to his enthusiastic attempts to make Link jump higher.
She rolled her eyes. “It’s not real dumbass,” she told him, unplugging the game.
“Hey!” he shouted, rising to his feet, “I was in da middle of a game!”
“Do I look like I cares?” she inquired, ignoring the threatening hand he had put in her face. “And doan go waving that around, you could poke sumbody’s eyes out.” Rath muttered some anatomically impossible things he’d like to do to her and sat back down. “Plan B is getting’ rid of Zan.”
“How’s that supposed ta help wit’ the Summit?” he demanded, “They want the fuckin’ king. Tha’s Zan.” He looked at her like she was dumb. Inside though, he was roiling. Get rid of Zan, who was his best friend, his king, and his brother all in one? The man he was sworn to protect at all costs. Ronna’s pretty purple eyes flashed into his head and he rejected the soft expression in it. He’d do whatever it took to get off this stinking mudball of a planet.
“Tha’s what the back-up is for.” She spoke to him slowly, and then smacked the back of his head. “Nicholas knows how to get the other Zan to come even ours doan make nice. It’ll all work out.”
Rath nodded, but he was still angry. Mostly at Zan for putting them in this position, but also at Ronna for abandoning him, and especially at his shitty life. He glanced up at the pods they had been born from. Those other four had no idea what real life was like. They were left all safe and cozy with the Granilith in some hick town, while he and the other three had to scavenge for food to live.
“What about the retard?” he asked. Ava was a thorn in his side, just as much as Zan had become.
Lonnie smiled that smile that turned his blood to ice. “You leave the little queen ta me.”
“Yo!” The shout echoed down the tunnel to the pair, and they turned to the entrance. Ava and Zan strode in, Mickey D bags in their hands. “We eatin’ like kings ta’night,” Zan said mockingly as he tossed Rath a burger.
The second-in-command unwrapped it and bit into it with relish. It was still hot. “Yo, duke,” he mumbled, mouth full, “We goin’ or not?”
“Goin’ where?” Zan asked, snatching a few fries.
“The Summit.” Rath raised his eyebrows. “This is our chance, Zan. We’s can finally go home!” The prospect was truly amazing, and it gave Rath some hope that this life they led wasn’t their true destiny. He stared at Zan, willing him to make the right choice. To prove that the old Zan was back.
“Yeah,” Lonnie piped in, her dark eyes on her brother. “What’s it gonna be Zan?” Ava also looked to her former lover, eager for his verdict. All three aliens waited, each with a different consequence weighing on their mind for whatever his answer would be, as the king chewed methodically and swallowed.
He met their eyes, his own amber ones apathetic. “No.”
~
The church was silent, the pews empty. Rosalyn moved up the center aisle to the altar, and knelt before the image of Jesus. “Please,” she beseeched that statue, “Please, I don’t know what to do.” Tears, her faithful companion these past several days, began to spill again. “I just don’t know…”
“What is the matter, child?”
Surprised, Roz half rose as she turned. A priest stood slightly to her right, looking kind and empathetic. Her eyes widened, “I fell in love with the wrong person.”
He chuckled and held out a hand to help her up. “Love is never wrong, child,” he informed her as she accepted the hand.
Rosalyn’s thoughts flew immediately to Zan and the way he looked at her, and touched her, and spoke to her. He was an alien. He was different. He wasn’t who she was supposed to be with. But she loved him, everything about him, and if love was never wrong… “Thank you,” she whispered breathlessly, and ran from the church.
~
To be continued...
~27~
The air was crisp. Roz closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them again Charlie was standing beside her with a wine glass. She raised one eyebrow.
“Sprite,” he told her, grinning. She managed a small smile back and took the glass, sipping politely as she turned back to the view. Charlie leaned against the balcony railing nonchalantly. “Makes you wonder, huh?”
“About what?” she inquired.
“About what’s out there,” he informed her. He made a sweeping gesture with one arm, encompassing the night sky in it. “There’s billions of stars Rosie, something has to be out there.”
“Are you taking about life on other planets?” She slid him a look out of the corner of her eye. “And don’t call me Rosie.”
He turned around, giving her yet another charming grin. “Yes Rosalyn,” he stated, “I am. And stop calling me Charlie.”
She rolled her eyes. “Charles then, and what made you bring up the subject?” It hurt to look up at those brilliant lights and think of Zan. Of where he came from and where he might be going. She felt tears prick her eyes and she downed her soda.
“That’s what,” Charlie said, and he gently wiped away her tears. “Every night you come out here and just stare.” His expression got very solemn. “And you cry, Rosie. Your dad may not notice when you’re not yourself, but I do. I’ve spent every summer of my life with you Braver, I know you almost as well as myself.” Roz gave a choked little sob and he reached out and pulled her into a fierce hug.
“Charlie,” she whispered, hugging him back. He had been her lifeline here. It had surprised her to see him that first morning. Her father hadn’t told her that Charlie was interning at his law office and staying with him until Mr. and Mrs. Schneider got back from their World Tour. It had ended up as a pleasant surprise though.
He was always there when she started to get depressed, dragging her out to go to a movie or to play paintball. He interrupted her when she started getting too involved in her homework, which her professors had been understanding enough to e-mail to her, and made her play video games or bake cookies. And when her dad made her go to these parties he threw for his clients every night, Charlie would join her in a corner and they’d make disparaging remarks about the ladies’ dresses and the men's suits.
He did know her better than her parents, and as well as Josselin. But not as well as Zan. She gave him another squeeze and then stepped away. “That doesn’t explain how the subject of alien lifeforms came about,” she prodded, trying to smile.
She managed a real one when he gave another grin. His internal happiness was always infectious. “Well, I figured some alien king came and stole your heart and then left it in itty bitty pieces when the mothership came and beamed him back up. That would explain why the stars make you cry right?” He looked at her, waiting for her to laugh at his joke.
She couldn’t even fake it. Roz felt her face pale and her entire body tremble, and she gazed at him with wide-eyed horror. Was he one of Zan’s enemies? Was he- No, she shook her head, this was Charlie Schneider, he had come to the hospital the day she was born. He was human, like her. The panic that had frozen her body calmed. She couldn’t think like that. She shouldn’t even have to think like that. “I need a drink,” she said and walked past him.
“Rosie, wait,” Charlie cried, grabbing her arm, “What is it? Tell me what’s wrong. I’m sorry for joking, all right? I didn’t realize the issue was so sensitive.”
She shook her head, “Don’t worry, Charlie.” Roz mustered a lip quirk, which was close to a smile, really. “And don’t call me Rosie.” She twisted out of his grip and went back to the business party, smoothing her black satin skirt down. A gesture that took the place of hair tucking when it was up.
The champagne bottle was easy to take, and even easier to walk out of the room with. She saw Charlie trying to get through the crowd as she ducked into her father’s study. He hadn’t meant it, she knew. He didn’t know. Would never know. But it still hit too close too her heart. It still hurt.
She popped the cork. For a night, hopefully, she could forget Zan. Could forget what he made her feel. Forget she was in love.
~
He claimed to have no memory of the mindrape. Zan was playing hockey with Rath, both boyos taking hard knocks. Lonnie watched her brother carefully. There was something different about him, but nothing that disputed his blank look when she apologized that first night he had come back.
She hadn’t meant it of course, but when her little bro walked back into their crib a few weeks ago looking disheveled and drunk, she had stepped up, had said ‘No hard feelings?’ and Zan had hiccuped ‘’Bout what?’ And that had been the end of it.
He told them he had quit his job and broken up with his girl and wanted to come home. Well, open arms, baby. They were playing a different angle this time, she and Nicholas. Nicholas had been in his head, he knew what buttons to push to get Zan to agree to the terms. They just had to play him the right way.
The other two boneheads wouldn’t be much help. Rath was moldable, he still had a chip on his shoulders about something, and he’d help take down Zan if something got screwed up. Ava couldn’t be confided in. Lonnie knew the meek little bride would go with the flow. Hell, she was happy as a clam that Zan was back with his family and in her bed. Not that they were fuckin’ or nothin’.
Yeah, she decided as she lay down on the couch for a nap, the Summit was in a couple weeks, they’d have everything worked out by then. Lonnie glanced at Zan again. “Plan A or Plan B, lil’ bro, it’s your choice,” she murmured as she closed her eyes.
~
“Hello, this is Kelly speaking.”
“Hi, Kel!” Roz said to Josselin’s roommate, “Is Joss in?”
“One sec.” Roz heard the phone clink onto the desk and a loud “JOSSELIN! PHONE!” from the other end.
“Hello?”
It was Joss’ voice. “Heya, Joss! Guess who?”
“Roz?”
“Yupper daisies!” Rosalyn giggled into the phone, “You’re soooo smart, Joss.” She twirled around in her dad’s desk chair, the phone cord wrapping itself around her body. She giggled again. “I’m stuck,” she informed her best friend.
“Stuck?” Joss repeated, sounding confused, “Stuck where?”
Roz giggled again, “In Daddy’s chair, silly!” She hiccuped loudly. “Whoops.” Cautiously, she looked around to see if anyone had noticed, and then hiccuped again.
“Roz, are you drunk?” Joss asked, bewildered. Her levelheaded friend sounded too weird to be her normal self. “Rosalyn?” she asked again when no answer came. She was hearing some funny grunting noises, interspersed with the occasional hiccup. She sighed, figuring it would take awhile to get to the bottom of this incident.
Rosalyn had come to the brilliant conclusion that she needed to wiggle her way out of the chair, and had proceeded to do so. Unfortunately, in her intoxicated state, she had just gotten herself more tangled. Her skirt had hiked up to reveal black lace panties and her blouse had gotten twisted so that if she moved again, it would rip. Not to mention she was an inch away from strangling herself on the phone cord. With difficulty, she reached the phone. “It’s not working!” she wailed, “You made it worse!”
“Me?” Joss said, “What did I do?” Silence. “Roz, what exactly happened?”
The brown-haired girl sniffled into the phone. “The cord wrapped around me when I swiveled the chair,” she informed her friend.
Joss took a deep breath, held it, and then released. “Why don’t you spin in the opposite direction until you’re free?” she suggested.
“Okay,” Roz agreed simply.
At any other time, Josselin would have found a drunk Rosalyn vastly amusing. But, it was eleven o’clock at night and she had an organic chemistry test in the morning. Revenge would be sweet, she decided. “Did it work?” she inquired.
Roz nodded happily. “Arigatou,” she said.
“Roz,” Joss said patiently, “No Japanese, I can barely understand your English right now.”
“Hai,” Roz replied and Joss sighed, “Ooh, did you know my dad has Vodka in his desk, Joss?” She grabbed the glass bottle and gulped its contents quickly.
“No,” Joss replied, “I did not know that.” Hacking coughs met her ears. “Roz! You didn’t drink-“
“Woah,” Roz said, sounding semi-normal, “That had a lot of kick to it.” Her mouth felt like it was full of cotton. “Have you ever had Vodka Joss?”
“No.”
“Don’t try it.”
“Okay.”
Her throat was burning. “Good.”
“Why are you drinking, lovey?” Joss inquired, sympathetic.
Rosalyn’s head felt heavy. She leaned her forehead on her free palm, a headache coming on. “Have you seen Zan recently?” she questioned softly.
Joss bit her lip, her heart going out to the broken sounding girl on the other side. “No, lovey. Philly told me he quit working at the Haze, and he’s moved out of his apartment.” She had gone there to give him an ass-whooping.
“Oh,” Roz said, even more quietly. Tears were threatening, making the area behind her eyes pound. And then she realized the pounding wasn’t all in her head. Her head shot up at Charlie’s voice through the wood. Bad idea, she realized, as nausea overcame her. The phone fell to the floor with a loud sound as she rushed to the bathroom connected to the office.
“Rosalyn?” Charlie finally managed to get the key to work and he flung open the door. He had been delayed when some older female clients had cornered him, much to his intense dismay. The lighting was dim, but the glow coming from the bathroom indicated where Rosalyn had gone. Charlie stopped near the desk, noting the empty champagne bottle and the newly opened Vodka, as well as the phone missing from the hook.
Getting down on his hands and knees, and traced the cord to the headset and brought it to his ear. “Hello?”
“Who’s this?” came the suspicious voice.
“This is Charles Schneider, who is this?” he retorted.
“No way!” came the feminine exclamation, “It’s Josselin McLeeyn from summer camp!”
“Hey!” he cried, remembering the redheaded whirlwind that had pushed him into the pool one summer for talking to Rosalyn, “How have you been? Made anyone drown lately?”
She laughed, “Good, and no. Do you know how Roz got a hold of alcohol?” The accusation in her voice was obvious.
“You wound me,” he said, “I’ll have you know-” He cut off as sounds of retching came from the bathroom. “Roz’ll have to call you back,” he said quickly, dropping the phone back into the cradle, and hurrying to where his ‘date’ had gone.
She was hunched up wretchedly, worshipping the porcelain god. He bit back a grin and knelt beside her, holding back the hair that had escaped it hair-sprayed confines. After awhile, she stopped heaving and he helped her to lean against the sink counter. “I’m sorry,” she whispered as he wet a washcloth and wiped gently at her face.
This time he did grin at her miserable state. “You know what would have been really funny?”
“What?” she asked warily.
“If it had been non-alcoholic,” he told her.
“Shut up!” she shouted, swatting at him, but a glimmer had lit up her brown eyes.
“C’mon,” he said, hoisting her up to standing position, “Let’s get you into bed.” She nodded, and let him lead her. There were a couple of close calls with wandering guests, who would have been shocked to find Richard Braver’s prim and proper eighteen year old daughter tousled and inebriated. Luckily, playing secret agent had been one of Charlie’s childhood past times, and he got them undetected to Roz’s bedroom.
She tumbled into it unceremoniously, letting Charlie strip her without protest. She sat up on her bed, looking at him as he found her nightgown. “Hands up,” he ordered, slipping it over her head and shoulders and then straightening it around her body. “Now, under the covers.”
She scrambled to do his bidding as he tucked her in, kissing her forehead gently. “You’ll make a good mother,” she told him seriously. He laughed and shook his head, heading back out. “Wait!” she called, “Stay with me for a bit.” He paused for a long moment, back turned, and then came back.
The bed was big enough for two, and Charlie stayed on top of the covers. She cuddled against him, closing her eyes as he stroked her head gently, the way her mother had when she had been a child. “Was he that important?” he inquired delicately.
She didn’t question him knowing it was a boy problem, she just nodded. “I love him.”
“Then what happened, Rosie?”
The dam broke, and her tears came flooding out. “I broke our hearts.”
~
“So, what da we do if it doan work?” Rath asked, his concentration mostly on getting Link to the next level of the game. Lonnie sat down next to him, unscrewing the top to a 20 oz. Coke.
“Then we go to Plan B,” she said coolly. Zan and Ava had gone out to scrounge up some dinner, leaving her and Rath alone.
“And what exactly is Plan B?” he asked, falling off the couch due to his enthusiastic attempts to make Link jump higher.
She rolled her eyes. “It’s not real dumbass,” she told him, unplugging the game.
“Hey!” he shouted, rising to his feet, “I was in da middle of a game!”
“Do I look like I cares?” she inquired, ignoring the threatening hand he had put in her face. “And doan go waving that around, you could poke sumbody’s eyes out.” Rath muttered some anatomically impossible things he’d like to do to her and sat back down. “Plan B is getting’ rid of Zan.”
“How’s that supposed ta help wit’ the Summit?” he demanded, “They want the fuckin’ king. Tha’s Zan.” He looked at her like she was dumb. Inside though, he was roiling. Get rid of Zan, who was his best friend, his king, and his brother all in one? The man he was sworn to protect at all costs. Ronna’s pretty purple eyes flashed into his head and he rejected the soft expression in it. He’d do whatever it took to get off this stinking mudball of a planet.
“Tha’s what the back-up is for.” She spoke to him slowly, and then smacked the back of his head. “Nicholas knows how to get the other Zan to come even ours doan make nice. It’ll all work out.”
Rath nodded, but he was still angry. Mostly at Zan for putting them in this position, but also at Ronna for abandoning him, and especially at his shitty life. He glanced up at the pods they had been born from. Those other four had no idea what real life was like. They were left all safe and cozy with the Granilith in some hick town, while he and the other three had to scavenge for food to live.
“What about the retard?” he asked. Ava was a thorn in his side, just as much as Zan had become.
Lonnie smiled that smile that turned his blood to ice. “You leave the little queen ta me.”
“Yo!” The shout echoed down the tunnel to the pair, and they turned to the entrance. Ava and Zan strode in, Mickey D bags in their hands. “We eatin’ like kings ta’night,” Zan said mockingly as he tossed Rath a burger.
The second-in-command unwrapped it and bit into it with relish. It was still hot. “Yo, duke,” he mumbled, mouth full, “We goin’ or not?”
“Goin’ where?” Zan asked, snatching a few fries.
“The Summit.” Rath raised his eyebrows. “This is our chance, Zan. We’s can finally go home!” The prospect was truly amazing, and it gave Rath some hope that this life they led wasn’t their true destiny. He stared at Zan, willing him to make the right choice. To prove that the old Zan was back.
“Yeah,” Lonnie piped in, her dark eyes on her brother. “What’s it gonna be Zan?” Ava also looked to her former lover, eager for his verdict. All three aliens waited, each with a different consequence weighing on their mind for whatever his answer would be, as the king chewed methodically and swallowed.
He met their eyes, his own amber ones apathetic. “No.”
~
The church was silent, the pews empty. Rosalyn moved up the center aisle to the altar, and knelt before the image of Jesus. “Please,” she beseeched that statue, “Please, I don’t know what to do.” Tears, her faithful companion these past several days, began to spill again. “I just don’t know…”
“What is the matter, child?”
Surprised, Roz half rose as she turned. A priest stood slightly to her right, looking kind and empathetic. Her eyes widened, “I fell in love with the wrong person.”
He chuckled and held out a hand to help her up. “Love is never wrong, child,” he informed her as she accepted the hand.
Rosalyn’s thoughts flew immediately to Zan and the way he looked at her, and touched her, and spoke to her. He was an alien. He was different. He wasn’t who she was supposed to be with. But she loved him, everything about him, and if love was never wrong… “Thank you,” she whispered breathlessly, and ran from the church.
~
To be continued...
-
dreamangel
- Addicted Roswellian
- Posts: 176
- Joined: Tue Oct 09, 2001 4:58 pm
- Location: far from reality
Don't ask what happened yesterday, you don't want to know. Suffice it to say, I am just now getting functioning back in my arms.
Disclaimer: Much of the dialogue in these next few parts will come from Roswell episodes Meet the Dupes and Max in the City.
~28~
She exhaled softly when the key slid easily into the lock. She took another deep breath and held it as she opened the door and stepped into the entryway. Roz felt a flash of pain as she remembered the last time she had stood in this apartment. Zan had been so sad and angry, and she… She had just walked away.
It was obvious that he had not put the rooms to right after his enemies had ravaged their home and she had left. The kitchen was okay, except… The vase of roses had been broken again, bits of glass covered the table and floor. The roses were all wilted, dying from lack of nutrients.
Roz turned away and went into the living room. Again, nearly everything was as she had left it. Nearly. She reached down and picked up the silver flask left on the coffee table. Frowning, she unscrewed the lid and sniffed. Alcohol. Zan never drank. Feeling a little lost, she closed the top and examined the bottle. The initials P.D. were engraved on the bottom. It was Philly’s then, she decided, he must have dropped it.
Holding onto the flask, she stared at the photograph Zan had bought. The one he liked to sit on the couch and gaze at for hours as if contemplating some deeper meaning it held for him. He had once told her that she was that rose, the one spot of color that gave joy to his existence. She had merely blushed and cuddled up against him on the couch.
A gasp escaped her lips, quickly stifled, as she moved to touch the glass covering the blown-up photo. The color was gone. That single red rose had faded to match the others in the black-and-white picture. As if Zan had managed to leech out everything the crimson bloom had meant to him with just a touch of his fingertips.
Did… Did it mean he… No. He loved her, she was sure of it. Zan needed her in his life as much as she needed him. There was no way he would let her go, not like that. The Zan she knew didn’t give up that easily.
Roz couldn’t look at it anymore. She walked to the bedroom, feeling cautious, and prepared herself for more signs that Zan was beyond angry at her. But none came. Everything in the bedroom was the same. The mattress was three-quarters off the bed, the sheets rumpled and strewn about. Untouched since the last time they had shared it.
Her throat closed and she felt tears slide silently down her cheeks as she clutched the flask tightly to her chest. He had been so urgent that night, frightened for her, needing to make sure she was still there, with him. She had felt that from him, had sought to reassure him with her love as she accepted all that he gave.
But she had been unable to give him the true acceptance he had desired. Roz had thought only of herself as she walked out the door that night. She had been so stupid.
“Roz?” The call was soft. She quickly wiped her eyes and went out the unhinged door to greet Josselin. Her red-headed friend was standing in the short hall, Rosalyn’s small suitcase on the floor beside her. “That’s Philly’s.” Roz nodded absently in response. “They really did a number on this place, huh?”
Brown eyes met green. “You don’t seem surprised.”
Joss shrugged. “I came looking for Zan, when nobody answered my-oh so polite knock, I charmed your landlord into letting me up.” She gave a cheeky smile. Roz gave a small smile in return, thinking that she needed to have a talk with Dogan about giving in to pretty faces. “Where do you want to start?”
Gazing around the shattered apartment, she felt despair bloom within her. Could things really go back to the way they were before? No. Roz shook her head to clear it. Things would be better than before, now that there were no secrets between them. Now that she could breathe again.
“The bedroom,” she decided, “It’s had the least amount of damage. Then we’ll move onto the kitchen.” She turned to Josselin and held out the flask. “Trade ya?” she offered, gesturing for her suitcase.
Joss laughed and took the silver holder. “C’mon, let’s get everything all set for when your man gets home.” She grabbed Roz’s free hand and started dragging her back to the bedroom. She came to an abrupt halt in the doorframe and looked at her best friend sternly.
“What is it?” Roz asked.
“Don’t you think for one moment that just because you’ve decided to forgive him he’s escaping his ass-whooping, lovey!”
Startled, Roz let out a burst of laughter and grinned at the other woman. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
~
“Le’s go.”
Lonnie rolled over on the couch to gaze at her brother. Zan was standing a few feet away, putting on his backpack. He was making them go scrounging again. Peachy fucking keen.
She had forgotten how high-handed he was. Now that he was back, she had fallen in the group hierarchy, and that wasn’t sitting too pretty with the once-princess. Lonnie sat up on the couch, stretching leisurely, aware of Zan’s impatient amber gaze on her. Ava was fidgeting by his side, her eyes darting between Lonnie and Rath.
She knew the other girl knew something big was coming. Ava was dumb, but she wasn’t that dumb. The pink-haired wench was able to read the tension building between the two siblings, could hear the whispered conspiracies between Lonnie and Rath when Zan was out. Well, the mindwarper would keep her opinions to herself if she knew what was good for her.
And Lonnie had made sure that Ava knew what was good or her.
“I said, le’s go,” Zan repeated, glaring.
“Chill Duke,” Rath told him as he reached his side.
“Yeah, baby bro, not like the streets ain’t gonna be there in a coupla minutes,” she taunted, finally getting to her feet.
“Whateva,” he scoffed and turned, walking away, “C’mon Ava.” The queenie followed him obediently. Lonnie rolled her eyes at her part-time lover.
They trailed the other two just out of hearing distance. “Wha’s up Lons,” Rath demanded, “You got sumthin’ on ya mind, I can sees it in ya eyes.”
She smirked and let her gaze slide over him before dismissing his anxiousness. “He gets one las’ chance. You know whats to say. If he don’t go for it then…” She trailed off, shrugging.
“Tonight?”
“Tonight.”
“Yous two comin’ or what?” Zan shouted back to them. He and Ava were waiting by the platform leading into the main station.
“We’s comin’” she assured him, and quickened her pace. Just a little while longer, she’d have to pretend to be the meek elder sister just a little bit longer.
They passed through the small crowd of people waiting for the last train to take them to destinations unknown. They kept to their group, old habits formed from years doing the same routine. The exited the echoing cavern of the Canal Street Station by the stairs leading to Lafayette Street.
The city was bustling, even this late at night. Lonnie came out last, getting her pack ready as Zan scoped out the fruit stand. She walked past him, nonchalant, and he moved away with his hand slightly out. She felt the small surge of his power as the wooden front of the stand broke down and fruit went rolling onto the sidewalk.
Rath went into his nice guy act, helping the frantic Asian sellers pick up the fruit. Ava and Zan went for a few grapefruits while she headed for the cash register. With a practiced wave, Lonnie grabbed the bills, tucking them away quickly, her eyes watching the scene before her.
Walking away was easy. More people had come, adding to the confusion. Zan tossed his grapefruit on the ground, Ava threw her orange after, and Rath grabbed two onions. Lonnie sniffed, he was always thinking about his stomach. They really had more important things to worry about now.
Turning the corner, she eyed a guy dribbling a basketball. A vague plan sparked and she eyed the man holding the ball. He gave her a once over. “Hey, what’s up, girl?”
“What’s up, man?” she replied.
He met her gaze, dark eyes appreciative. “You look good.” She smiled at him.
“She knows it,” Rath shouted from a few feet away. He held out his hands. “Yo, gimme the rock, G.” The ball switched hands and Rath kept it, continuing his walk. Her grin widened as she backed away and joined the rest of her family.
“Hey, yo!” came the call, “My man! My ball!”
They ignored him. Rath glanced back at her as they walked, she gave him a tiny nod. “They contacted us again las’ night. Same invite. We gotta tell ‘em sumthin’.”
“Tell ‘em no.”
“Yo,” she spoke up, wrapping an arm around Ava as the lagged behind the king and his second, “You sayin’ we ain’t goin’ to the Summit?”
“Tha’s what I’s sayin’.”
She could tell Rath was getting desperate, she could hear it in his voice. “Yo, tha’s messed up, Duke. This is the only time we eva been contacted.” He didn’t want to do it. Lonnie narrowed her eyes, watching her cohort in this plot.
“Whateva. Tha’s it.”
Zan’s response clinched it. She could see the way Rath tensed up. A moment of regret hit her. He had been a good brother. But then they had grown up, and he started getting in the way of her plans. Lonnie realized she would miss him once he was dead, but a girl had to do what a girl had to do. She would survive.
“We tell ‘em no, they woan ask again,” Ava piped in unbidden.
“Tell ‘em hell no.” Zan was smirking as he looked back at them. He was such a bastard.
Rath got angrier. “What is up wit’ you man?” he demanded, getting in Zan’s face, “I’m tired of you, I’ll go bys myself!”
She hung back with Ava as Zan stepped up to Rath, going on tip-toe slightly to meet him eye to eye. “They doan want the numba two,” he stated, eyes unblinking, “They want the Royal Four.”
“Why doan we go and sees what they gotta say? Why doan we go and get the answers?” He sounded frantic. Lonnie stared harder, he still wasn’t ready to give up on his king. The dumbass.
For the first time, Zan raised his voice. “What if it’s a setup?”
“No! It’s not a setup! They need us!”
Rath believed it too. An idealistic dumbass. Well, it worked out well for her and Nicholas. Their planet didn’t need them, probably didn’t even want them. It had been over fifty years, the Royal Four was probably forgotten. All they fuckin’ wanted was the Granolith, and Lonnie was going to find a way to deliver it to them. With or without the rest of her ‘family’
Zan stepped closer to Rath. “I’m the man,” he stated, voice quiet and commanding. It was one thing she couldn’t begrudge her brother, he truly was a king. “Don’t forget.”
Time to step in and play peacemaker. “Yo. Guys, it’s been a mad long day. Le’s just chill.”
The staring contest continued. Rath gave first. “Yeah,” he admitted quietly, “You the man.”
A smile slid across Zan’s face as he held out his hand. They shook, a complicated pattern they had worked out five years ago. Rath looked over at her quickly as Zan’s hand squeezed his neck in brotherly companionship. A pat on the back, and Zan released him, walking ahead. She turned her head and met Rath’s eyes.
Now.
~
It came as a surprise. It probably shouldn’t have, but there it was. He wasn’t prepared. Not now, not for this.
The basketball had bounced, he had reached for it and then he felt the push against his knapsack, hard. The gravel dug into his palms as he caught himself on the street, the ball bouncing away unnoticed.
The sound of a vehicle speeding up reached his ears and he turned his head, confused, to stare into bright headlights of a large truck. Shit. Shoulda fuckin’ seen it coming.
Zan closed his eyes.
Love you, Rosalyn.
~TBC~
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Disclaimer: Much of the dialogue in these next few parts will come from Roswell episodes Meet the Dupes and Max in the City.
~28~
She exhaled softly when the key slid easily into the lock. She took another deep breath and held it as she opened the door and stepped into the entryway. Roz felt a flash of pain as she remembered the last time she had stood in this apartment. Zan had been so sad and angry, and she… She had just walked away.
It was obvious that he had not put the rooms to right after his enemies had ravaged their home and she had left. The kitchen was okay, except… The vase of roses had been broken again, bits of glass covered the table and floor. The roses were all wilted, dying from lack of nutrients.
Roz turned away and went into the living room. Again, nearly everything was as she had left it. Nearly. She reached down and picked up the silver flask left on the coffee table. Frowning, she unscrewed the lid and sniffed. Alcohol. Zan never drank. Feeling a little lost, she closed the top and examined the bottle. The initials P.D. were engraved on the bottom. It was Philly’s then, she decided, he must have dropped it.
Holding onto the flask, she stared at the photograph Zan had bought. The one he liked to sit on the couch and gaze at for hours as if contemplating some deeper meaning it held for him. He had once told her that she was that rose, the one spot of color that gave joy to his existence. She had merely blushed and cuddled up against him on the couch.
A gasp escaped her lips, quickly stifled, as she moved to touch the glass covering the blown-up photo. The color was gone. That single red rose had faded to match the others in the black-and-white picture. As if Zan had managed to leech out everything the crimson bloom had meant to him with just a touch of his fingertips.
Did… Did it mean he… No. He loved her, she was sure of it. Zan needed her in his life as much as she needed him. There was no way he would let her go, not like that. The Zan she knew didn’t give up that easily.
Roz couldn’t look at it anymore. She walked to the bedroom, feeling cautious, and prepared herself for more signs that Zan was beyond angry at her. But none came. Everything in the bedroom was the same. The mattress was three-quarters off the bed, the sheets rumpled and strewn about. Untouched since the last time they had shared it.
Her throat closed and she felt tears slide silently down her cheeks as she clutched the flask tightly to her chest. He had been so urgent that night, frightened for her, needing to make sure she was still there, with him. She had felt that from him, had sought to reassure him with her love as she accepted all that he gave.
But she had been unable to give him the true acceptance he had desired. Roz had thought only of herself as she walked out the door that night. She had been so stupid.
“Roz?” The call was soft. She quickly wiped her eyes and went out the unhinged door to greet Josselin. Her red-headed friend was standing in the short hall, Rosalyn’s small suitcase on the floor beside her. “That’s Philly’s.” Roz nodded absently in response. “They really did a number on this place, huh?”
Brown eyes met green. “You don’t seem surprised.”
Joss shrugged. “I came looking for Zan, when nobody answered my-oh so polite knock, I charmed your landlord into letting me up.” She gave a cheeky smile. Roz gave a small smile in return, thinking that she needed to have a talk with Dogan about giving in to pretty faces. “Where do you want to start?”
Gazing around the shattered apartment, she felt despair bloom within her. Could things really go back to the way they were before? No. Roz shook her head to clear it. Things would be better than before, now that there were no secrets between them. Now that she could breathe again.
“The bedroom,” she decided, “It’s had the least amount of damage. Then we’ll move onto the kitchen.” She turned to Josselin and held out the flask. “Trade ya?” she offered, gesturing for her suitcase.
Joss laughed and took the silver holder. “C’mon, let’s get everything all set for when your man gets home.” She grabbed Roz’s free hand and started dragging her back to the bedroom. She came to an abrupt halt in the doorframe and looked at her best friend sternly.
“What is it?” Roz asked.
“Don’t you think for one moment that just because you’ve decided to forgive him he’s escaping his ass-whooping, lovey!”
Startled, Roz let out a burst of laughter and grinned at the other woman. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
~
“Le’s go.”
Lonnie rolled over on the couch to gaze at her brother. Zan was standing a few feet away, putting on his backpack. He was making them go scrounging again. Peachy fucking keen.
She had forgotten how high-handed he was. Now that he was back, she had fallen in the group hierarchy, and that wasn’t sitting too pretty with the once-princess. Lonnie sat up on the couch, stretching leisurely, aware of Zan’s impatient amber gaze on her. Ava was fidgeting by his side, her eyes darting between Lonnie and Rath.
She knew the other girl knew something big was coming. Ava was dumb, but she wasn’t that dumb. The pink-haired wench was able to read the tension building between the two siblings, could hear the whispered conspiracies between Lonnie and Rath when Zan was out. Well, the mindwarper would keep her opinions to herself if she knew what was good for her.
And Lonnie had made sure that Ava knew what was good or her.
“I said, le’s go,” Zan repeated, glaring.
“Chill Duke,” Rath told him as he reached his side.
“Yeah, baby bro, not like the streets ain’t gonna be there in a coupla minutes,” she taunted, finally getting to her feet.
“Whateva,” he scoffed and turned, walking away, “C’mon Ava.” The queenie followed him obediently. Lonnie rolled her eyes at her part-time lover.
They trailed the other two just out of hearing distance. “Wha’s up Lons,” Rath demanded, “You got sumthin’ on ya mind, I can sees it in ya eyes.”
She smirked and let her gaze slide over him before dismissing his anxiousness. “He gets one las’ chance. You know whats to say. If he don’t go for it then…” She trailed off, shrugging.
“Tonight?”
“Tonight.”
“Yous two comin’ or what?” Zan shouted back to them. He and Ava were waiting by the platform leading into the main station.
“We’s comin’” she assured him, and quickened her pace. Just a little while longer, she’d have to pretend to be the meek elder sister just a little bit longer.
They passed through the small crowd of people waiting for the last train to take them to destinations unknown. They kept to their group, old habits formed from years doing the same routine. The exited the echoing cavern of the Canal Street Station by the stairs leading to Lafayette Street.
The city was bustling, even this late at night. Lonnie came out last, getting her pack ready as Zan scoped out the fruit stand. She walked past him, nonchalant, and he moved away with his hand slightly out. She felt the small surge of his power as the wooden front of the stand broke down and fruit went rolling onto the sidewalk.
Rath went into his nice guy act, helping the frantic Asian sellers pick up the fruit. Ava and Zan went for a few grapefruits while she headed for the cash register. With a practiced wave, Lonnie grabbed the bills, tucking them away quickly, her eyes watching the scene before her.
Walking away was easy. More people had come, adding to the confusion. Zan tossed his grapefruit on the ground, Ava threw her orange after, and Rath grabbed two onions. Lonnie sniffed, he was always thinking about his stomach. They really had more important things to worry about now.
Turning the corner, she eyed a guy dribbling a basketball. A vague plan sparked and she eyed the man holding the ball. He gave her a once over. “Hey, what’s up, girl?”
“What’s up, man?” she replied.
He met her gaze, dark eyes appreciative. “You look good.” She smiled at him.
“She knows it,” Rath shouted from a few feet away. He held out his hands. “Yo, gimme the rock, G.” The ball switched hands and Rath kept it, continuing his walk. Her grin widened as she backed away and joined the rest of her family.
“Hey, yo!” came the call, “My man! My ball!”
They ignored him. Rath glanced back at her as they walked, she gave him a tiny nod. “They contacted us again las’ night. Same invite. We gotta tell ‘em sumthin’.”
“Tell ‘em no.”
“Yo,” she spoke up, wrapping an arm around Ava as the lagged behind the king and his second, “You sayin’ we ain’t goin’ to the Summit?”
“Tha’s what I’s sayin’.”
She could tell Rath was getting desperate, she could hear it in his voice. “Yo, tha’s messed up, Duke. This is the only time we eva been contacted.” He didn’t want to do it. Lonnie narrowed her eyes, watching her cohort in this plot.
“Whateva. Tha’s it.”
Zan’s response clinched it. She could see the way Rath tensed up. A moment of regret hit her. He had been a good brother. But then they had grown up, and he started getting in the way of her plans. Lonnie realized she would miss him once he was dead, but a girl had to do what a girl had to do. She would survive.
“We tell ‘em no, they woan ask again,” Ava piped in unbidden.
“Tell ‘em hell no.” Zan was smirking as he looked back at them. He was such a bastard.
Rath got angrier. “What is up wit’ you man?” he demanded, getting in Zan’s face, “I’m tired of you, I’ll go bys myself!”
She hung back with Ava as Zan stepped up to Rath, going on tip-toe slightly to meet him eye to eye. “They doan want the numba two,” he stated, eyes unblinking, “They want the Royal Four.”
“Why doan we go and sees what they gotta say? Why doan we go and get the answers?” He sounded frantic. Lonnie stared harder, he still wasn’t ready to give up on his king. The dumbass.
For the first time, Zan raised his voice. “What if it’s a setup?”
“No! It’s not a setup! They need us!”
Rath believed it too. An idealistic dumbass. Well, it worked out well for her and Nicholas. Their planet didn’t need them, probably didn’t even want them. It had been over fifty years, the Royal Four was probably forgotten. All they fuckin’ wanted was the Granolith, and Lonnie was going to find a way to deliver it to them. With or without the rest of her ‘family’
Zan stepped closer to Rath. “I’m the man,” he stated, voice quiet and commanding. It was one thing she couldn’t begrudge her brother, he truly was a king. “Don’t forget.”
Time to step in and play peacemaker. “Yo. Guys, it’s been a mad long day. Le’s just chill.”
The staring contest continued. Rath gave first. “Yeah,” he admitted quietly, “You the man.”
A smile slid across Zan’s face as he held out his hand. They shook, a complicated pattern they had worked out five years ago. Rath looked over at her quickly as Zan’s hand squeezed his neck in brotherly companionship. A pat on the back, and Zan released him, walking ahead. She turned her head and met Rath’s eyes.
Now.
~
It came as a surprise. It probably shouldn’t have, but there it was. He wasn’t prepared. Not now, not for this.
The basketball had bounced, he had reached for it and then he felt the push against his knapsack, hard. The gravel dug into his palms as he caught himself on the street, the ball bouncing away unnoticed.
The sound of a vehicle speeding up reached his ears and he turned his head, confused, to stare into bright headlights of a large truck. Shit. Shoulda fuckin’ seen it coming.
Zan closed his eyes.
Love you, Rosalyn.
~TBC~
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"That which is loved is always beautiful." - Norwegian Proverb
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dreamangel
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~29A~
The brisk November wind swept past the small group of three, carrying with it the sounds of traffic jams and the smell of street side food vendors. Roz snuggled deeper into the shearling collar that lined her ankle-length suede coat and smiled a little at the sight in front of her.
Josselin was dressed in jeans and a dark blue sweater covered by a pale pink pea coat. Her red-gold hair was in a ponytail and there was no make-up on her face as she stared adoringly at Philly as they walked arm in arm down the sidewalk. Roz thought her friend had never looked more beautiful.
It had been somewhat of a surprise for her to find out that her best friend was dating the much older man, especially considering Joss’ outlook on relationships, but there was something between the two that prevented her from protesting. They just seemed to fit.
She sighed as the crowd they had been moving along came to a stop as the crosswalk signal flashed red. She had not been able to find hide nor hair of the man she loved in the two weeks she had been back. It was getting harder and harder to go on with classes and hanging with Joss. Roz felt so incomplete, so out of sync with her life, now that Zan was gone.
The signal turned to ‘WALK’, but Rosalyn was frozen. It was there, swimming through her consciousness. Love you, Rosalyn… She mouthed his name, spinning to look, to find him.
In horror she saw him down on the street, a large truck approaching, speeding up. No one walking by stopped, no one stared. She tried to scream, but her voice was stuck in her throat. She tried to run, but her feet wouldn’t move.
She couldn’t look away.
Moments later she watched two people pull his unmoving body from the street and drag it toward an alley. Roz’s eyes caught onto a familiar pair of blue eyes as they tracked where Zan was being taken.
Ava stared at her. Ava stared when the other two dragged her away. Ava stared, pleading.
Movement came, it had to have been only a few moments, because Joss and Philly were only halfway across the crosswalk, but she paid them no heed as she dashed in the opposite direction, straight into traffic.
“Roz!” Joss’ alarmed shout followed her, but she didn’t care. She ran unmindful of the cars as they slammed on their brakes.
“Zan,” she whispered, “Zan. Zan. Zan. Zan. Zan.” She repeated it like a prayer as she ducked into the alley, brown eyes searching frantically. He was there, half hidden behind a dumpster.
Roz shoved at the trash container with all her might, tears streaking her cheeks as it gave way enough for her to kneel beside him. He was bleeding all over. Sobbing, she ran her fingers along his forehead, his jaw, and his lips. There was no breath. She bent her head to his chest, begging God to let him live…
A heartbeat.
It was faint. So faint, but it was there.
“Roz, what happened?”
She looked up at Josselin, scared and happy all at once. “He’s alive,” she murmured in wonderment. Roz gazed back down at her lover as he struggled for his life. He was dying.
Determination shot through her and she looked past Joss to Philly, who was breathing heavily beside her friend. “Help him,” she said.
“What?” His pale eyes widened as he stepped closer. “Oh shit, Zan.” Philly dropped down beside Roz and started looking for vitals. She pushed his hands away.
“Get a cab.”
“He’s not breathing,” Philly said gently as Joss ran back toward the street.
“He’s alive. His heart is beating.” She stared at Zan, running a hand through his. “We need to get him home.”
Philly, who had started CPR once he figured out Rosalyn was too shocked to think properly, stated, “We’ll get him to the nearest hospital, don’t worry.”
“No,” her voice was sharp, “No hospitals.” She bit her bottom lip, thinking as well as she was able. He couldn’t go to a hospital, not with who he was. What he was.
“You’re crazy,” Philly said, incredulous, “He’s dying.” He went in for another breath only to find that Zan had started breathing on his own. “Keep it up, man, keep it up,” he encouraged, even though he knew Zan couldn’t hear him. “He’s breathing now.” Philly met Rosalyn’s eyes. “He needs a doctor.”
She shook her head, hands clinging to Zan’s tattered clothes. “He can’t go to a hospital.” She willed him to listen to her, to believe her. “You don’t understand. They’ll take him away.”
“I got one!” Joss’ shout came down the alley to them. “Hurry!”
Philly let out a deep breath. “Sorry,” he said to Zan as he hoisted him over his shoulder and turned to leave, hoping he wasn’t causing more damage. A hand on his arm stopped him. “He needs medical attention.” He continued walking.
“Please.” The desperation in her voice made him stop and look at her. She stood on the filthy ground, blood and dirt staining her light coat, her eyes begging him to help her.
“Hurry!”
He relented with unease. “I know somebody,” he told her softly.
Relief broke out on her face and she rushed to him, pulling him toward the cab. Once they were packed in, she told the driver the address to her and Zan’s apartment and told him to step on it. She turned glowing eyes back to Philly, her arms wrapped around a comatose Zan, and mouthed ‘thank you.’
~
He’d told Lonnie he’d kill himself, but he’d lied.
Rath had taken one look at that perfect ‘Leave-it-to-Beaver-wonderful-day-in-the-neighborhood’ life and he’d wanted it. That need had always been in him; a real home, a real family. He’d wanted it with Ronna.
It looked like Zan’s dupe, Max, had it all. Just like Zan. It just so f*cking figured.
Max Evans had a father and a mother who cared a bout him. Max Evans had a nice home with expensive clothes. Max Evans had a sweet hometown girl in love with him. Max Evans had a Four Square that gave a damn…well, and Rath crooked a grin, mostly.
He’d tried to play his cards right. He’d laid on the guilt trip, told Max all about their peeps on the homeworld waiting for their King. He’d let some of his sorrow over what had happened to Zan, what he had done to his friend and king, out.
Rath was sorry. He was. But Zan had made the wrong decision and he had to pay the piper. It was the way the world worked.
The sob story had gotten to Max, but it hadn’t won him over. He was too damn democratic, wouldn’t leave without the others. They didn’t need the extra baggage. But as always, Lonnie had had a plan.
She was good at manipulating was Vilandra. Good at worming secrets out of people and abusing their confidences. His heart felt heavy as he watched Max stride angrily down the street, raging at Isabel and Michael, but he and Lonnie had got the job done.
They were on their way to the Summit.
Just a little closer to home.
~
She kept a vigil by their bedside, running her hands up and down his arms and just whispering to him. Murmured apologies, declarations of love…anything and everything that came to mind as she hoped beyond hope that he would hear her and wake up.
He had stopped breathing at one point. Fortunately Philly’s friend had already arrived, but it had made her sick to see him lying there, helpless, with a breathing apparatus being attached. She ran her fingers over where the IV was stuck into him.
“It’s not normal!”
Rosalyn looked in alarm toward the voices coming from outside the bedroom. Rising she pressed a kiss to Zan’s forehead and moved to the door. She entered the living room to Philly fighting with his friend, who Roz had been told to call Louis.
“What seems to be the problem?” she asked calmly, her voice betraying none of her fear.
“He was mince meat,” Louis exclaimed, “Now he looks like he maybe fell off a bike.” He looked around frantically for back-up from Philly or Josselin. “I’ve seen a lot, but nothing like this. Nobody heals that fast, nobody.” He shook his head. “I’m risking my license for this, so somebody better tell me what the f*ck is going on!”
It was almost enough that Louis had even come. That he had snuck his equipment up the back stairs while Joss distracted Dogan. That he had saved Zan’s life. But if he told… She met the man’s hazel eyes, “You saved his life, doctor, isn’t that enough?”
He bit his lip, staring at her. Roz gazed back at him, guarded. She didn’t know what she would do if he pushed it. All she knew was that she’d do anything to protect the man she loved. Louis opened his mouth but Philly placed a hand on his chest, getting his attention.
“Let it go Lou,” he muttered.
The doctor’s eyes flicked back to Roz, “But-“
“Don’t do it man,” Philly said, “Just drop it.”
Terse silence filled the room as the two men stared at one another, having a silent contest of wills. Roz exchanged a look with Joss, who tried to give her a reassuring smile, but failed. Roz turned her interest back to Louis and Philly, hoping when she knew she shouldn’t.
His eyes had broken from Philly’s for a moment when she turned back. She knew he could read that hope. She wanted it to be enough…Needed it to be enough. Finally, Louis nodded and Roz could breathe again.
“All right,” she said, “If there’s nothing else, I’m going back to the bedroom.”
~
TBC...
The brisk November wind swept past the small group of three, carrying with it the sounds of traffic jams and the smell of street side food vendors. Roz snuggled deeper into the shearling collar that lined her ankle-length suede coat and smiled a little at the sight in front of her.
Josselin was dressed in jeans and a dark blue sweater covered by a pale pink pea coat. Her red-gold hair was in a ponytail and there was no make-up on her face as she stared adoringly at Philly as they walked arm in arm down the sidewalk. Roz thought her friend had never looked more beautiful.
It had been somewhat of a surprise for her to find out that her best friend was dating the much older man, especially considering Joss’ outlook on relationships, but there was something between the two that prevented her from protesting. They just seemed to fit.
She sighed as the crowd they had been moving along came to a stop as the crosswalk signal flashed red. She had not been able to find hide nor hair of the man she loved in the two weeks she had been back. It was getting harder and harder to go on with classes and hanging with Joss. Roz felt so incomplete, so out of sync with her life, now that Zan was gone.
The signal turned to ‘WALK’, but Rosalyn was frozen. It was there, swimming through her consciousness. Love you, Rosalyn… She mouthed his name, spinning to look, to find him.
In horror she saw him down on the street, a large truck approaching, speeding up. No one walking by stopped, no one stared. She tried to scream, but her voice was stuck in her throat. She tried to run, but her feet wouldn’t move.
She couldn’t look away.
Moments later she watched two people pull his unmoving body from the street and drag it toward an alley. Roz’s eyes caught onto a familiar pair of blue eyes as they tracked where Zan was being taken.
Ava stared at her. Ava stared when the other two dragged her away. Ava stared, pleading.
Movement came, it had to have been only a few moments, because Joss and Philly were only halfway across the crosswalk, but she paid them no heed as she dashed in the opposite direction, straight into traffic.
“Roz!” Joss’ alarmed shout followed her, but she didn’t care. She ran unmindful of the cars as they slammed on their brakes.
“Zan,” she whispered, “Zan. Zan. Zan. Zan. Zan.” She repeated it like a prayer as she ducked into the alley, brown eyes searching frantically. He was there, half hidden behind a dumpster.
Roz shoved at the trash container with all her might, tears streaking her cheeks as it gave way enough for her to kneel beside him. He was bleeding all over. Sobbing, she ran her fingers along his forehead, his jaw, and his lips. There was no breath. She bent her head to his chest, begging God to let him live…
A heartbeat.
It was faint. So faint, but it was there.
“Roz, what happened?”
She looked up at Josselin, scared and happy all at once. “He’s alive,” she murmured in wonderment. Roz gazed back down at her lover as he struggled for his life. He was dying.
Determination shot through her and she looked past Joss to Philly, who was breathing heavily beside her friend. “Help him,” she said.
“What?” His pale eyes widened as he stepped closer. “Oh shit, Zan.” Philly dropped down beside Roz and started looking for vitals. She pushed his hands away.
“Get a cab.”
“He’s not breathing,” Philly said gently as Joss ran back toward the street.
“He’s alive. His heart is beating.” She stared at Zan, running a hand through his. “We need to get him home.”
Philly, who had started CPR once he figured out Rosalyn was too shocked to think properly, stated, “We’ll get him to the nearest hospital, don’t worry.”
“No,” her voice was sharp, “No hospitals.” She bit her bottom lip, thinking as well as she was able. He couldn’t go to a hospital, not with who he was. What he was.
“You’re crazy,” Philly said, incredulous, “He’s dying.” He went in for another breath only to find that Zan had started breathing on his own. “Keep it up, man, keep it up,” he encouraged, even though he knew Zan couldn’t hear him. “He’s breathing now.” Philly met Rosalyn’s eyes. “He needs a doctor.”
She shook her head, hands clinging to Zan’s tattered clothes. “He can’t go to a hospital.” She willed him to listen to her, to believe her. “You don’t understand. They’ll take him away.”
“I got one!” Joss’ shout came down the alley to them. “Hurry!”
Philly let out a deep breath. “Sorry,” he said to Zan as he hoisted him over his shoulder and turned to leave, hoping he wasn’t causing more damage. A hand on his arm stopped him. “He needs medical attention.” He continued walking.
“Please.” The desperation in her voice made him stop and look at her. She stood on the filthy ground, blood and dirt staining her light coat, her eyes begging him to help her.
“Hurry!”
He relented with unease. “I know somebody,” he told her softly.
Relief broke out on her face and she rushed to him, pulling him toward the cab. Once they were packed in, she told the driver the address to her and Zan’s apartment and told him to step on it. She turned glowing eyes back to Philly, her arms wrapped around a comatose Zan, and mouthed ‘thank you.’
~
He’d told Lonnie he’d kill himself, but he’d lied.
Rath had taken one look at that perfect ‘Leave-it-to-Beaver-wonderful-day-in-the-neighborhood’ life and he’d wanted it. That need had always been in him; a real home, a real family. He’d wanted it with Ronna.
It looked like Zan’s dupe, Max, had it all. Just like Zan. It just so f*cking figured.
Max Evans had a father and a mother who cared a bout him. Max Evans had a nice home with expensive clothes. Max Evans had a sweet hometown girl in love with him. Max Evans had a Four Square that gave a damn…well, and Rath crooked a grin, mostly.
He’d tried to play his cards right. He’d laid on the guilt trip, told Max all about their peeps on the homeworld waiting for their King. He’d let some of his sorrow over what had happened to Zan, what he had done to his friend and king, out.
Rath was sorry. He was. But Zan had made the wrong decision and he had to pay the piper. It was the way the world worked.
The sob story had gotten to Max, but it hadn’t won him over. He was too damn democratic, wouldn’t leave without the others. They didn’t need the extra baggage. But as always, Lonnie had had a plan.
She was good at manipulating was Vilandra. Good at worming secrets out of people and abusing their confidences. His heart felt heavy as he watched Max stride angrily down the street, raging at Isabel and Michael, but he and Lonnie had got the job done.
They were on their way to the Summit.
Just a little closer to home.
~
She kept a vigil by their bedside, running her hands up and down his arms and just whispering to him. Murmured apologies, declarations of love…anything and everything that came to mind as she hoped beyond hope that he would hear her and wake up.
He had stopped breathing at one point. Fortunately Philly’s friend had already arrived, but it had made her sick to see him lying there, helpless, with a breathing apparatus being attached. She ran her fingers over where the IV was stuck into him.
“It’s not normal!”
Rosalyn looked in alarm toward the voices coming from outside the bedroom. Rising she pressed a kiss to Zan’s forehead and moved to the door. She entered the living room to Philly fighting with his friend, who Roz had been told to call Louis.
“What seems to be the problem?” she asked calmly, her voice betraying none of her fear.
“He was mince meat,” Louis exclaimed, “Now he looks like he maybe fell off a bike.” He looked around frantically for back-up from Philly or Josselin. “I’ve seen a lot, but nothing like this. Nobody heals that fast, nobody.” He shook his head. “I’m risking my license for this, so somebody better tell me what the f*ck is going on!”
It was almost enough that Louis had even come. That he had snuck his equipment up the back stairs while Joss distracted Dogan. That he had saved Zan’s life. But if he told… She met the man’s hazel eyes, “You saved his life, doctor, isn’t that enough?”
He bit his lip, staring at her. Roz gazed back at him, guarded. She didn’t know what she would do if he pushed it. All she knew was that she’d do anything to protect the man she loved. Louis opened his mouth but Philly placed a hand on his chest, getting his attention.
“Let it go Lou,” he muttered.
The doctor’s eyes flicked back to Roz, “But-“
“Don’t do it man,” Philly said, “Just drop it.”
Terse silence filled the room as the two men stared at one another, having a silent contest of wills. Roz exchanged a look with Joss, who tried to give her a reassuring smile, but failed. Roz turned her interest back to Louis and Philly, hoping when she knew she shouldn’t.
His eyes had broken from Philly’s for a moment when she turned back. She knew he could read that hope. She wanted it to be enough…Needed it to be enough. Finally, Louis nodded and Roz could breathe again.
“All right,” she said, “If there’s nothing else, I’m going back to the bedroom.”
~
TBC...
Last edited by dreamangel on Sat Feb 12, 2005 6:55 pm, edited 1 time in total.
"That which is loved is always beautiful." - Norwegian Proverb