Forwarded by the ASC-VSO 
Posted: 19 Feb 2004 16:35:46 -0800  
In: alt.startrek.creative 
From: djinn@djinnslair.com (Djinn) 
 

TITLE: The Lost Years: Sins of the Past (Slayer Series)
AUTHOR: Djinn
CONTACT: djinn@djinnslair.com http://www.djinnslair.com
SERIES: TOS
RATING: PG-13
CODES: Ch, K, U, Others
PART: 3/3
SUMMARY: The fifth in the Lost Years series.  This follows "Release."
 


Kirk kept looking over his shoulder as he and Uhura walked back toward
his apartment.

"She'll be fine."  Uhura shook her head.  "She's stronger than a
werewolf, right?  At least in the daytime?"  She looked confused for a
moment.  "It was simpler before, wasn't it?"

He nodded.  It had indeed been simpler before.  He sighed.

"I'm sorry.  I didn't mean--"

"--It's all right.  Things change, people change.  This is our life
now."  Or his anyway.  Uhura's and Chris's would be changing as soon
as they reported to the Enterprise.

"This is where I turn off."  She pointed to the street that would take
her to her building.  "You will come to dinner with us tonight."

He noticed she wasn't making it a question and laughed.  "Is it worth
my time to try to argue with you?"

She folded her arms.  "I've got all day.  Have you?"

"I'll be there."  At her nod of satisfaction, he said, "Where shall I
meet you?"

"We'll come by your place.  Say around seven?"

"That's fine," he said, waving her off.  He waited until she was well
down the street before turning and heading for Weasel's motel.  The
walk was more pleasant during the daytime.  No one hustled him; no
vampires threatened him from the shadows.  He headed into the lobby,
didn't see his teacher at the desk and called out into the small back
room, "Weasel?"

Wharton walked out.  "Weasel's not here."

"You son of a bitch."  Kirk backed into the sunlight.

Wharton rolled his eyes.  "I don't mean he's no longer on this mortal
coil.  He just took a guest down to her room.  He'll be back in two
shakes, I'm sure."  Wharton leaned against the counter, sipping at a
cup of coffee.  At Kirk's look, he smiled.  "A myth, Admiral.  That we
can't enjoy anything but blood.  Good coffee is good coffee.  Or is it
that you think Englishmen only drink tea?"

"How the hell did you get in here?"  Had Wharton tricked Weasel into
inviting him?

"A motel is part of the hospitality industry.  'Strangers welcome'
being an underlying theme of the business."  He looked at Kirk as if
he was slightly stupid.

Kirk backed closer to the window, deeper into the early afternoon sun.
 "How'd you get here in the daylight?"

"Sewers.  They go just about everywhere."  Wharton smiled.  "That's
right.  Christine's probably never taken you down there, has she?"

Kirk could feel himself bristle at the familiar way Wharton said
Chris's name.  The vampire smiled, as if knowing exactly what reaction
he would prompt with his words.

"She doesn't like sewers," Wharton said, as if it was a great secret.

Kirk studied the vampire.  He'd only seen him once when he'd been
masquerading as Thompson, had only noticed the ensign because it was
clear he had feelings for Chris.  Everything about Thompson had seemed
to fade into the scenery.  But now it was impossible not to notice
Wharton.

"Like what you see?"  Wharton's smile was mocking.

"Just analyzing how you do it.  Posture, attitude--I never realized we
could be so misled by things we take for granted as signs of
character."

Wharton nodded.  "It's a simple thing.  You are what you appear, or so
most people seem to think.  You're not quite what you appear though. 
It's why I was so startled by you that night in the cemetery."  He
laughed at Kirk's expression.  "You thought it was hero worship for
the great Kirk from a lowly ensign, perhaps?  I hate to break it to
you, but I don't care about that.  However, a man filled with so much
magic and who has vampire blood--a master vampire's blood, on top of
that--coursing through his veins?  Now that I find...fascinating."

Kirk tried not to wince.  Wharton seemed to know a lot about Chris, he
might know just as much about him too.  Might know exactly who that
word would conjure up.

"A turn of phrase that you don't seem to like.  Sorry."  Wharton
smiled.  "You don't need to hide in the sunshine.  I'm not going to
hurt you."

"Right.  You'd never want to get rid of a rival for Christine."

Wharton lifted his eyebrows.  "Are you daft?  If I hurt you, she
wouldn't rest until she'd hunted me down and killed me."  He smiled. 
"If I do win her, it will be from you, not by default."

"You love her?"

"Not at all."  Wharton laughed.  "Not like you do.  Not like she loves
you."

Kirk tried to hide the satisfaction he felt at those words.

"But it must be troublesome.  She loves you.  But she loved Spock. 
She might have loved Spike.  And she can't seem to kill me.  Just how
many people does she love?"

Kirk shook his head.  "She doesn't love you."

"Perhaps not.  But I'd certainly be a good match for her--and for that
awesome slayer strength.  I imagine your Vulcan friend was a match for
her as well.  And Spike would only have found her passion exhilarating
not fearsome.  Superhuman to superhuman.  I've never known a slayer
that way--I find the idea quite arousing.  But to be a mere human and
face that?  I can see why you won't let yourself give in to your love.
 I'd be afraid too."

"I'm not afraid."

"Of course not."  Wharton's voice was the verbal equivalent of a pat
on the head.

"If you don't love her, then why pursue her?"

"I need her help.  Together we can change the system."

"Yes, you can."  Kirk saw Wharton's surprise and took advantage of the
moment.  "She believes you're right.  Your goals, your plans to free
the slayers of the traditions--traditions that only serve to get them
killed--they are noble.  I believe in them too.  We'll both help you. 
And we'll find others who will help.  But you don't need to kill the
other watchers to do it.  You don't need to kill anyone."  He wondered
at that last part.  Wharton was a vampire--wasn't killing people an
intrinsic part of the deal?

"Such passion.  You could charm a Fyarl demon, Admiral."  Wharton
lifted his cup to him.  "It's part of your magic.  That eloquence,
that charisma."  He smiled fondly at Kirk.  "But you don't know what
you're talking about.  You don't know the watchers."

"I know Emma."  It was a bit of a lie.  He didn't know Emma very well.
 But Chris had said that Wharton and Emma had been close once.

"I know Emma too.  She's one of them.  She'll go the way of the
Council.  Even if this time she has her own slayer.  Even if this time
she'll find out what it feels like to lose--"

"--That's why you want Chris?  To make Emma pay?"

Wharton looked surprised at what he'd been saying.  He shot Kirk an
annoyed look.  "Of course not."

"Your own pain was that bad?  You have to share it with her?  You have
to hurt Chris, the way that little girl was hurt, that little girl you
couldn't protect?"  That little girl that Kirk had fought with the
night he'd met Alma.  That little girl that Wharton didn't know had
died again for real on the fields of Sekanik.

Wharton didn't know anything about Kirsu, as far as Kirk knew. 
Wharton didn't know about Laura's life after he'd lost her, that she'd
gone on.  Maybe they could use that somehow?

Wharton slammed down his mug, the heavy pottery took the beating,
didn't crack, but the small bit of coffee that was left went all over
the counter.

"Some trouble here?" Weasel asked from the doorway.  He walked toward
the counter.

"He's a vampire," Kirk said quickly, grabbing his arm as he passed.

Weasel looked at him as if he were retarded.  "Yeah, Mac.  That's
evident from the pasty whiteness.  Although that could just be an
English thing."  He pulled free from Kirk's grasp, shooed Wharton out
from behind the counter.  "Glad you like the coffee, Bub.  Now I told
you, I'm outta rooms."

"You have plenty."  Wharton smiled.  "But I don't want to stay here
now anyway."  He shot a look at Kirk.  "Too many do-gooders running
around."

"He doesn't want a room.  He just came to spin my head, didn't you,
David?"  He saw the vampire's eye narrow at Kirk's use of his first
name.  "I can help you.  I have enormous resources at my disposal. 
And I have friends who have even more reach.  We can all help you. 
Give up your little scheme and let's come up with a real plan."

"My little scheme?"

Kirk shrugged, made his smile mocking.  "Well, as plans go, I'm not
sure of the strategic quality of 'kill them all.'  It lacks vision, I
think."

Weasel poured himself a cup of coffee, then sipped at it, watching
them both with a smile, as if he was enjoying a particularly
hard-fought tennis match.

"You want vision?"

Kirk smiled again.  "It would be nice.  Show me how your plan is
better than mine?  How killing Emma and the rest of the watchers will
get you the slayers?  You want to help them--that's good.  I want that
also because I'm inordinately fond of one of them, as you've pointed
out.  But killing the people they look to for guidance"--he held up a
hand as Wharton started to protest--"for right or wrong, but the
people they turn to.  How will that win them over?  How will that
help?"  He smiled gently, this time tried to make the expression one
of sympathy not of mockery.  "How will that make you any different
than the watchers?  You'll be just another killer who wants to run
their lives.  To help them, to free them, you'll need to be different.
 You'll need to be better."

Wharton looked into Kirk's eyes, his expression one of respect.  "I
wish I'd met you when I was eighteen, Admiral Kirk."  He laughed.  "Of
course then you'd have been about the same age, and probably not full
of such sincere wisdom."  Wharton stepped toward him.  "Do you know
what I was doing at eighteen?  My uncle gave me over to the worst of
his kind--the assassins of the Watcher's Council--and they taught me
to kill."

He reached into the sunshine, seemed to ignore how his hand was
sizzling as he grabbed Kirk and pulled him out of the sun, held him
close.

The smell of burning flesh filled Kirk's head.  He tried to pull away
from Wharton and didn't get very far, then he felt an energy kick
between them, pushing the vampire away from him.  Wharton grabbed at
his head as he stepped back.

"Non-violence spell," Weasel said.  Kirk noticed he hadn't moved from
the counter.  But his eyes shone a strange green.  "No fighting, Bub,"
he said to Wharton.  "Scares away the paying customers."

The vampire shrugged.  He turned back to Kirk.  "Do you know how
Christine celebrated her eighteenth birthday?"  His expression
darkened.  "The eighteenth birthday is a time of testing for the few
slayers who live that long.  It's an old tradition, one of the oldest.
 They say it's to test the slayer.  But that's a lie.  They use it to
cull the herd.  Not of the old and sick, but of the old and strong. 
They get rid of the slayers who will eventually be a problem.  And of
course it's a solution for all those old potential slayers who'll
never be called.  At least the ones who the Council has deemed most
likely to be called.  The ones who they've trained and who, once it is
clear won't be chosen, are left with no destiny and knowing far too
much.  A few of them show aptitude to become watchers, but the
rest--the rest are put through the test.  And the potentials never
survive the test.  Never.  And the moment they die, there is one less
liability in the world."

"That's barbaric. I don't believe--"

"--Believe it!"  Wharton spat the words at him, seemed to lose all of
his charm, all of his control.  Kirk could almost see a frightened and
horrified young man behind the vampire's ageless features.

His control reasserted itself almost immediately.  "I was there for
Christine's test you see.  I'd been training for a few years, training
well and this was a reward of sorts for all my hard work.  I came with
my handlers to stand by Silver as we watched Christine's Cruciamentum.
 That's what it's called.  This test.  It means--"

"--I know what it means.  Torment."

"Yes.  Or torture."  Wharton shook his head.  "We watched from a
remote distance.  Perfectly safe, of course.  While Christine was
given drugs to make her helpless and locked in a sewer with a vampire.
Torture indeed."

Kirk could feel his hands clench.

"Korby did that to her.  Her watcher.  The man she loved like a
father."  Wharton's lips curled.  "The man who loved her in ways a
father never should.  He drugged her and told her it was the flu, and
then sent her in against the vampire.  She was trapped in there.  No
escape unless she killed the vampire.  Is it any wonder she doesn't
like the sewers?"  He looked down.  "She nearly died.  She probably
should have died.  But she had something, something inside her that
refused to give up.  She killed the vampire.  And never realized that
her physical weakness was anything but the flu.  She never knew that
when she'd tried to get out of the sewers and into the sunlight and
had found the entrances all locked that Korby and the other watchers
had done that to her.  They used to tell the Slayer the truth once the
test was over, used to even congratulate her for surviving.   But
after Buffy's time, it went underground.  And so few of the slayers
make it to eighteen--especially during the wars--and then even fewer
make it through the Cruciamentum."

"That was years ago. Surely."

Wharton shook his head.  "It still goes on.  And it's illogical in the
extreme.  If they want to kill a slayer who is giving them trouble,
then why don't they just kill her?  But they let Christine resume her
life after winning, even though the watchers would have liked nothing
better than to see her die so that they could get a new, more easily
handled slayer in return.  That is the idiocy of their tradition.  She
passed the test, so she must live.  While scores more who would never
have questioned the watchers are destined to die in this cursed test. 
And why?  Because that's how it has always been done."

"Tradition," Kirk said softly.

"Tradition.  They will never listen to me, or to you."  Wharton smiled
grimly.  "Keep Christine out of this, and I will let her live.  I will
leave her alone."  His smile grew even grimmer.  "But we both know
that you won't be able to do that.  Emma has charmed her, as she once
charmed me."'

"Emma still loves you," Kirk said softly.  He had no idea if it was
true.  But Wharton seemed to be a surprisingly sentimental creature. 
It might help her for him to think Christine's watcher loved him
still.

"Emma can't love.  If you think she can, then she's fooled you, too." 
Wharton headed for the entrance.  He turned back, shot Kirk a pitying
look.  "Take Christine away for a while.  If you love her.  If you
want her to survive this."

Kirk swallowed hard.  "It's her decision to make.  If she wants to
fight you, I won't stop her."

Wharton shook his head.  "No, you'll help her.  You're both fools." 
He nodded to Weasel.  "Nice establishment you have here."

"Thanks.  Some folks consider it a rat trap, but I like it."  He
didn't look at Kirk until Wharton was out the door and had ducked down
the sewer entrance that was conveniently located in a shady overhang.

Kirk had never noticed that before.  "Nice class of clientele,
Weasel."

His teacher shrugged.  "Not everyday you get someone like him in.  You
better watch your step."

Kirk leaned against the counter.  "I was hoping you could show me some
new tricks."

"Tricks?"  Weasel shot him a look.  "You don't need tricks.  You need
serious firepower.  And a gross of crosses."

"That I can handle.  But how are you at resurrecting the dead?  Or at
least their image?"

Weasel looked intrigued as he leaned in.  "Tell me what you have in
mind, Mac."

----------------------

Christine sat quietly and watched the fishermen as they moved down the
pier, trying to find the best spot.  She knew she should get up, leave
the bench and go do something useful like trying to find out where
David was hiding, but it was so pleasant in the sun.  Besides, she
knew where David had moved, or at least how he was getting around. 
He'd thrown her a large clue earlier when he'd brought up the sewers.

She tried to repress a shudder, failed utterly.  She hated the sewers.
 He could use them all he wanted; she still would bet money he was
living above ground somewhere.  Human habits died hard, and David was
a youngster when it came to being undead.  If he hadn't already been
lethal, been trained to kill by the watchers, he'd be no more a threat
to her than any other young vampire.

But he had been trained, molded into a killing machine.  And he was a
threat.  A big threat.  But not her only one.  Jim had said that Lori
had been the focus of whatever dark magic had killed Admiral Richter. 
Was Nogura using her against her will, making her kill for him? 
Channeling her power and using it in ways Lori wouldn't have done on
her own?

Christine felt another shudder go through her.  But this time it
wasn't the revulsion she'd felt at the thought of the sewers.  Lori
left her feeling unsettled in an entirely different way.  And not in
the way she had probably planned.  Christine felt less aroused than
cautious and confused.  Lori's mental cry for help had seemed
heartfelt, even desperate.  But could she be trusted?  Could anyone be
trusted?

Christine smiled.  Jim and Ny could be.  She could trust them.  But
Emma...could she trust her watcher?  She cared for her.  Didn't want
to see her hurt.  But she didn't know if she could trust her.

She heard footsteps coming up behind her.  Hard, firm.  No-nonsense. 
She turned.

Emma smiled at her.  She had on dark glasses, but seemed less frail,
less the woman who'd seemed to be hiding in her own house.  "Is this
seat taken?"  She waited, as if her slayer might tell her to go away.

"Yes, by you."  Christine smiled.  "Migraine's still bad?"

Emma was staring out at the water.  She nodded distractedly as she sat
down.  Then she looked over at Christine.  "Although maybe I should
have had your friend help me too?"  She tried to hide a grin, then
started to laugh.

"Oh.  You saw that?"

"Quite the little show.  I've been here the whole time, over there." 
She cocked a thumb back toward the other side of the pier, opposite
where Christine and Lori had walked down and where Lori had walked
back.  "I was on my way home after seeing Tolvar.  Sometimes he gets
me offworld medicines--made for heavy grav'ers.  They help my
headaches more than the stuff I get here."

Christine nodded.  She often had to use double doses of meds on
patients from heavy gravity worlds.  Then she realized that Emma was
saying that she had been following her.  Christine shook her head--she
was really slipping.  At the rate she was going, she could be tailed
by Godzilla and not realize it.

"She seems to be a very good friend..."

Christine laughed out loud.  She looked over at Emma.  "You think?" 
She shook her head.  "I've never been so popular, Emma.  All the
fiends are putting in their bids."

"Maybe once word about Spike got out?" Emma teased.

Christine nodded.  She hated that Spike's cover had been blown, but
had known that the Watchers would figure out he wasn't dead once he'd
moved in with her on Earth.  That kind of thing didn't escape the
notice of someone like Silver.  And Spike and Christine had patrolled
together so many times--had taken so little care not to be seen. 
"They won't hurt him, will they?"

Emma looked at her.  "Hurt Spike, you mean?"

Christine nodded.  "The Council, they won't hurt him?"

"No, dear.  They won't hurt him."  Emma took her hand.  "You care so
deeply about your friends.  Have I told you how much I admire that
trait in you?"  She turned back to studying the water, but didn't let
go of Christine's hand.

"Are you all right?"

Emma nodded.

They sat in silence for long time.  Then Emma said softly, "Kevin
wants me to try to get information out of you.  I feel that doing so
would be a breach of our trust."

Christine squeezed her hand.  "Just ask me what you need to ask."

"Do you know about Kirsu?"  

Christine closed her eyes, felt as if she was going to cry.  She'd
wanted to trust Emma.

Emma's hand tightened painfully on hers.  "Just say no, and I'll tell
him that you know nothing."

Christine didn't answer her.

"Lie to me, Christine.  Please."

Christine turned to her.  "No.  I don't know about Kirsu.  What is
it?"

Emma seemed to sigh in relief.  "I don't know either."  

Christine looked away.  She hadn't asked Emma to lie to her.  But she
just had.  They'd both just lied.  When would the lies stop?

They sat in silence again.  Then Emma pulled her hand away.  "Kevin
expects me for a meeting.  I have to go."

As she stood up, Christine said softly, "I found David."

Emma froze, then turned and studied Christine.  She seemed to be
especially interested in her neck.

"I didn't let him bite me.'

Emma let out breath that Christine hadn't realized she'd been holding.

"Do you have so little faith in me?"

Emma shook her head.  "He let you go once. I'm just surprised he'd do
it again."

"He killed a special ops watcher.  One who was following me.  Did you
know about that?'"

Emma suddenly looked angry.  "Following you?"  She sat back down on
the bench.

Christine leaned toward her.  "Silver set him on me, Emma.  Had him
following me as if I was the enemy.  You want me to trust you, and I
do want to.  But this makes it hard."

Emma slipped her dark glasses off, let Christine see her eyes, see how
troubled her expression was.  "I didn't know about this.  I swear it."
 She sighed.  "Damn him.  He promised me he'd leave this to me."  She
touched Christine's hand.  "Leave you to me, I mean.  That he'd stay
out of it."

"Well, he hasn't.  And it all comes down to this Kirsu thing he's so
interested in."

Emma slipped her glasses back on.  She nodded slowly.

Christine decided to show Emma that she trusted her.  "He's not the
only one who's interested in it.  That woman you just saw.  She and
her boss Admiral Nog--"

"--Nogura, yes I know.  She works for him."

"How do you know that?"

Emma sighed again.  Then she sat back, turned to the water again.  She
spoke very softly.  "I'm going to tell you a story.  Don't look at me
and don't react to anything I say.  If anyone is watching us, they'll
see only two friends sitting quietly, enjoying this magnificent day."

Christine said just as softly, "All right."

"A long time ago, there was a watcher named Kano Tachikawa."  She
seemed to realize Christine had reacted to the name.  "Not all
watchers are British, you know?"

"I know," Christine said, letting her tone become defensive, glad her
watcher had assumed she was just ill informed on her watcher history. 
Christine thought of the amulet Spike had given her.  Tachikawa had
also been inscribed on the back, just under the Nogura name.  She'd
noticed it when she'd had a chance to study the translation.

"Tachikawa was also a powerful sorcerer.  Watchers have so little to
do when not actively training a slayer or a potential that the Council
has always encouraged us to find other skills, other ways to make a
difference--and a living-- if we aren't close enough to London to be
involved in the Council itself.  Tachikawa and his friend Kazuo Nogura
didn't need to make a living.  They both came from wealthy families. 
But they fought evil together, long before their descendants joined
forces to create the company that has made the current heirs even more
wealthy."

So magic ran in the Nogura family?  Christine decided to just ask. 
"And is Admiral Nogura a sorcerer?"

"We think so."

"Think?  Can't the Council do better than that?"

"His estate is shielded.  By mages and modern technical means as well.
 He's powerfully shielded too.  We've never known, and frankly until
Kirsu came up on our sensors we've never had cause to quarrel with him
or worry about it overmuch."

Christine realized Emma was being extraordinarily honest with her. 
"Thank you for trusting me."

"I'm sick of lies and deception and hiding.  Where has it gotten us?" 
She reached out, touched Christine's fingers with her own.  "I could
lose you if I keep hiding things from you.  And I don't want that. 
Not now when we've made so much progress."  She pulled her hand away
slowly.  She fell silent, as if she'd lost track of where she'd been.

Christine prompted her softly, "So these two magicians...?"

"Yes, these two were quite busy.  Then a potential was identified.  It
was Kazuo's sister, Sachiko Nogura."  Emma sighed.  "Do you understand
what a nightmare that is for any watcher?"

Christine remembered Silver's confession that he'd hoped his own
daughters would be passed by, could imagine Tachikawa had ached for
his friend.  "Yes, I understand."

"They trained her, as was required.  But they never left her alone. 
You see, Kano was in love with her.  They hoped to marry.  Kazuo
supported the union.  They kept her as safe as they could."

"But?"

"But a slayer died in Russia and Sachiko was called.  She embraced her
duty.  Despite how much her brother and fiance had tried to shelter
her, she was willing to fulfill her destiny.  Unfortunately, she was
not particularly skilled as a slayer--not every girl called has the
same aptitude for fighting.  In fact, Kano and Kazuo had always
assumed she'd be passed by because she was so clearly not suited. 
After she was called, they broke with tradition and fought at her
side.  They kept her alive.

"Until?"  There was always an until, a last fight, for any slayer. 
Christine knew that eventually there would be one for her too.  Or
another one, since she'd technically died once already.

"One night the girl was out, not fighting, just walking home from a
friend's house.  She never made it home.  Her brother found her
floating in the river, barely alive, throat ripped nearly out.

"He took her home, called Kano.  They nursed her back to health.  And
vowed that Sachiko would never have to fight again.  The Council knew
nothing of their plans at the time.  They worked in secret, using old
magic--magic lost to us now as so much was lost during the wars.  They
discovered Kirsu, a dimension where it was always day, never night. 
Where a vampire could never survive.  Where Kano and Sachiko could
live out their lives in peace."

"Where the council could never find them?"

"Exactly.  Nogura forged an amulet that would hold the magic in place,
make the link with Kirsu stable.  Then they created five rings, one
for each of them, and a spare for both the house in Kirsu that they'd
built for Kano and Sachiko to live in, and for the Nogura stronghold
here on Earth.  The Noguras have always been practical.  Mystical
rings have a way of going missing, or getting knocked hard enough to
break.  They had planned for everything.  As soon as the girl was well
enough to be moved, they would send her to Kirsu."

"They were all set then?"

"So it seemed.  The Council was in the dark.  Tachikawa sent in status
reports on the girl's condition.  Since she was recuperating nicely,
the Council did not worry.  They expected her to make a full recovery.
 The lucky survivor of a vampire attack."  Emma chuckled softly. 
"There was just one problem."

"What?"

"It hadn't been a vampire.  Sachiko had been attacked much farther
away from where they'd eventually found her.  She'd jumped into the
river, which at that spot was quite fast moving, to get away from the
beast that was too strong for her to fight.  She'd nearly bled to
death as she'd floated downstream; the blood had drained away into the
water.  By the time they'd found her, it had looked like a vampire
attack."

Christine suddenly understood.  "But it was a werewolf?"

"Precisely."  Emma stopped talking for a moment, then she said softly.
 "She never told them.  Kano thought afterwards, that she didn't tell
anyone because she didn't know what the creature had been--that they
had kept her too sheltered.  But it's possible she did know and was
just afraid.  At any rate, her voice was nearly gone after the attack.
 Talking was difficult.  By the time Sachiko had regained her speech,
she'd chosen not to mention that her foe had not been a vampire.  But
they all found out soon enough.  The moon was full before they could
send her to Kirsu with Kano."

"My god."  Christine could imagine the damage a werewolf would do to
an unsuspecting household.

"Nogura was out with Tachikawa fighting some local vampires when
Sachiko transformed for the first time.  She killed nearly everyone in
the Nogura stronghold and then ran off."

"Did they catch her?"

"Yes."  Emma sighed.  "And killed her; a new slayer was called soon
after.  Tachikawa told the Council what had happened.  He even told
them what they had planned for his fiancee and him."

"He told them about Kirsu?"

"Yes.  It was lost by then.  One of the few servants who survived that
night ran off with the amulet and the rings.  By the time he was
found, he'd pawned the jewelry.  The Tachikawas and the Noguras have
been looking for it ever since."

"And it was never found?"

Emma shook her head.  "There've been rumors though.  The most recent
was about the amulet, just a few days ago.  But the watcher who Kevin
sent to get it was killed."  Emma sighed.  "Landon was a good man.  I
worked with him when his slayer died."

"I'm sorry."

Emma shrugged.  "As with Starfleet, it is the nature of our business
to sustain loss, is it not?"  She leaned forward, rubbing at her
temples.  "There have been rumors for years now about Kirsu.  Ever
since Helene Donleavy disappeared, decades ago.  Disappeared, some
said, to a slayer heaven.  Where the slayers aren't quite dead.  But
dead long enough to have called their successors.  If she did find the
rings...even just one of them...?"

Christine didn't answer.  She owed LaVelle and Marion and the others
as much if not more than she owed Emma.

"You amassed an army for your Gotterdammerung, Christine.  They had to
come from somewhere.  Kevin knows you're hiding something.  And he
suspects it's Kirsu."

"What do you think?"

"I don't think about it.  I'm here to be your watcher and your
therapist.  And I've told him that."

"Why does he want it so badly?"

"To move the Council there.  To train the girls in safety.  No
vampires.  Ever."

"Sure.  And the older slayers could retire there.  If there are no
vampires.  Ever."

Emma did not reply.

"Guess that wasn't part of his plan, huh?"  Christine shook her head,
then remembered she wasn't supposed to react.  "God, don't you see,
Emma?  It's just his way to get better control of us.  To keep his
hold firm on the Council, on all of this:  the slayers and our stupid
traditions and even stupider methods."

"Kevin's not the enemy."

"If he's not, I don't know who is."  Christine closed her eyes.  She
could hear David's words coming out of her mouth.  But was he wrong?

"That's David talking.  Not you."

"Maybe he makes more sense than you want to admit, Emma."

"He's brilliant at screwing with a mind, Christine.  He always has
been."

"I know that.  But aren't you brilliant at that too?  Isn't helping me
just a different kind of screwing around with a mind?  Why is okay
when you do it?"

"Don't be absurd.  I'm trying to help you."

"Strangely enough, so is he."

Emma sighed.  "Join him then.  If he makes so much sense."  Christine
had never heard her watcher sound so angry with her.

"I don't want to join him.  Because he plans to hurt you.  And I'll
never let him do that.  You're one of my friends now too, you know."

Emma slowly sat back against the bench.  "If he hadn't threatened me,
would you care about stopping him?"

"I'm not sure anymore.  If he left you alone..."  And left Peter
alone.  But Emma didn't need to know that Wyndam-Pryce had been
helping Christine and her friends.  Not when he was far away and out
of it now.

"God, Christine.  He's gotten to you."  Then Emma touched her hand
again.  "But I actually understand that."

"Because he got to you too?"

"No.  Because you have.  If it had been anyone other than you, I
wouldn't have told the story of Kirsu.  And I've defied Kevin for you,
refused to get the information he wants from you."

Christine turned her hand over, twined her fingers with Emma's. 
"Quite a pair, aren't we?"

"Yes, we are."  

"What do we do?"

Emma didn't answer.  Christine didn't know if that was because she
didn't know or didn't want to say.

They sat there for a long time.  In silence.  Watching the water. 
Just two women enjoying the lovely view.


FIN

--
Stephen Ratliff
ASC Stories Only Forwarding

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