Forwarded by the ASC-VSO 
Posted: 30 Mar 2004 19:08:22 -0800  
In: alt.startrek.creative 
From: djinn@djinnslair.com (Djinn) 
 

TITLE: The Lost Years: Chaos (Slayer Series)
AUTHOR: Djinn
CONTACT: djinn@djinnslair.com http://www.djinnslair.com
SERIES: TOS
RATING: PG-13
CODES: Ch, K, U, Others
PART: 1/7
SUMMARY: The seventh in the Lost Years series.




Kirk watched as Chris tensed...again.  She didn't relax until they had
passed the gang of young toughs who were hooting at her.

"You come this way every morning?" she asked.

He nodded.  "I guess I just blend better."

She glanced over, looking pointedly at his uniform.  "Why, yes,
Admiral Kirk, you do blend in here."  She started to grin.

"What?"

"I think you've got some sort of glamour thing going."

He laughed, running his hand over his hair as if smoothing it down. 
"Well, I know I'm pretty but..."

She bumped up against him and he caught her hand.  "I mean a spell,
you big goof.  That kind of glamour.  So they don't even see the
uniform."

He frowned.  "New word for me.  Where'd you hear it?"

"Lori."

"Before or after you kissed her?"

"I didn't kiss her this time."  

"Okay.  Did she kiss you?"  He laughed.  It was a joke...he thought.

"Amazingly not.  It was a no-kiss encounter."  She gave his hand a
squeeze before dropping it.

He had a feeling she wanted to have hers free to fight.  "Well, that's
a relief.  I thought I was going to have some competition."

"Never that."  She smiled softly.

They were getting into dangerous territory.  He sighed, and she shot
him a look.  He shook his head and walked a little faster.

"It's not a crime to admit what we feel," she said softly.

"But it's not smart.  You know why I can't"--he saw her look and
amended the word--"won't.  And you're going away."

"I don't have to."

He exhaled slowly.  "You were the other thing Nogura tempted me with."

She looked down.  "You didn't tell me that."

"I sure didn't, did I?"  He knew his smile was grim.

She looked over at him.  "Why not?"

He closed his eyes for a moment.  "Because I think you should go."

"Oh."

He reached out for her hand again.  "And I want you to stay."

She stopped walking, turned to him.  "I think you're making this way
too hard on both of us."  She saw his face and held up her hand.  "No.
 I get to say this.  I'll stay.  I'll gladly stay.  All you have to do
is say the word."  She moved closer.  "Sir?  Is the word given?"

He could feel her energy pushing at him.  Had been able to feel it
ever since they'd done the spell to hide the Kirsu ring.  It was less
intense than right after the spell, but still there--even their
energies were attracted to each other.  He took a step back.  "No,
Chris.  The word is not given."

She closed her eyes.  "Okay."  She swallowed hard then opened her
eyes.  Her look was cool and professional. The slayer, not the woman
he loved.  She turned and walked away quickly.  In the wrong
direction.

He hurried after her, turned her gently.  "This way."  He leaned in,
checked to see if she was crying.

"I'm okay."  She sounded more resigned than disappointed.  But her
eyes looked suspiciously bright.

"Had to try?"

She shrugged.  

He wanted to reach for her hand but decided it was a bad idea.  "We're
almost there," he said softly.

"Good."

He turned into the motel, saw that Weasel was still in the office. 
"That's him."

"Hmm."  

He smiled at her tone.  "And what does that mean?"

"Just 'hmm.'"

Kirk smiled wider.  He'd been trying to figure out what Weasel would
call Chris.  He doubted it would be anything that pleased her.  He led
her into the bright office.

Weasel looked up.  "Hey, Mac.  You're early, why don't you and your
friend go on down to the room."  He grinned.  "Maybe you could try to
get through the Caverimics shield while you wait."

Kirk noticed he hadn't looked at Chris.  "Everything okay?"

"What?  Oh yeah.  I've got a late arrival coming in who I have to wait
for.  She won't be long."

"And I should try the shield, huh?"

"Let's see how much you've learned."  Weasel grinned but he looked
distracted.

"Okay."  Kirk turned to Chris.  "Room thirty-eight."

She shot Weasel a suspicious look, then let Kirk push her out of the
office.  "What did he mean that he had to wait?  Doesn't he have any
help?"

Kirk thought back.  "Yeah, there's a kid who relieves him at five."

She checked her chrono.  "Well, it's past five now.  Where is he?"

Kirk shrugged.  "Late, I guess.  What's the matter?"

She smiled slightly.  "You'll laugh."

"No, I won't."

"Magic--other than yours--gives me the creeps."

He began to laugh. 

"See, I told you you'd do that.  I do know you, Mister."  She grinned
at him.

"I know you do."  He stopped at room thirty-eight.  "So you just don't
like magic?"

"No, it makes my skin crawl.  And not in a good way."  She laughed. 
"Not in a hide the necklace way."  Her grin was pure seduction again.

"Chris..."  He shook his head as he keyed open the door.

She laughed.  She tried to go into the room but he held her back. 

"It's shielded."

She reached out gingerly.  Her hand seemed to be pushed back.  She
touched the door again, harder this time, and her hand was bounced
back harder.

"Does that make your skin crawl?"

She smiled.  "I meant the idea of magic more than coming in contact
with it.  I guess because it's the one thing I can't fight."  She
reached out again, moving her finger so softly that she could trace a
pattern even as the shield nudged her away.  "To be honest, all I feel
is the force pushing me back, not that it's magic.  It could be a
regular force field for all I know."

"Well, let's see if I can get it open.  Watch my back?" he asked her. 
He was used to trying this with Weasel standing behind him.

"Do you even have to ask?"  She moved aside, seemed to become even
more alert than she had been on their walk over.  If that was
possible.

"Don't want anything to happen to me?"

"As a matter of fact, no."  

He nodded, turned to the door.  Closing his eyes, he relaxed, grounded
as Weasel had taught him.  Outside like this, he could feel the power
of the Earth pulsing underneath the concrete.  The power of the sky so
dark above him.  He kept his eyes closed and tried to feel the energy
pattern guarding the door.  It slowly came into detail, a web-like
series of tracings pulsing with red and yellow.

This was as far as he'd ever gotten.  Weasel had refused to give him
even a hint of what his next step should be.  He knew he wasn't strong
enough to overpower it.  The magic would just fight back.  He watched
the web for a moment, found the changing colors soothing.  Red,
yellow, red, yellow.  He let himself fall into the colors, become the
colors.

He was suddenly aware of a small flare of identical color coming from
his hands.  He slowly held them up, watched as the colors changed in
tandem with the colors on the shield.  He held his hands out, pushed
them against the web and felt it pull away at his touch, leaving an
opening big enough for Chris and him to walk through.

"Chris?"  He could feel her turn toward him.  "The shield is down,
walk through the middle of the opening, step at least five inches up
and keep your head that far away from the top of the frame.

Eyes still closed, he saw her walk through the opening, her body
nothing more than patterns of light--energy, her energy at its most
basic level.  She was all colors, many of them dark.  It didn't
surprise him.  He knew how grim her life had been, supposed that had
colored--literally--how she was and who she was.

He followed her through the door, then said softly, "Don't turn
around.  Just hold still for a moment."

He traced her energy, concentrating on the dark places.  Weasel had
said he could tell when something was evil or not.  Could he do that? 
There was darkness inside her, but was it evil?  He relaxed even more,
let whatever had formed the colors coming from his hands have free
rein.  As he traced the lines of her energy, he could feel everything
about her--bravery, pain, humor, love, and yes, darkness.  But it was
not evil, it was something different.  It was the slayer inside her,
the one who brought death to the monsters.  But it was also something
at odds with the slayer.  Something self-destructive, something that
didn't want to fight anymore.  He wondered if he had read her this way
right after she had run away, if this darkness would have been all
he'd have seen.  Now it was just a small part of who she was.  The
slayer part of her was much more pervasive.

As was the loving part of her.

"Um, whatever you're doing.  It feels really strange."  Chris moved
restlessly.

"But he's doing a damned good job of it," Weasel said behind them. 
"Guess you figured out what I meant?"

Kirk opened his eyes, saw that Chris had already turned, her look
guarded, even wary.  He could tell that she didn't trust Weasel.

Weasel had turned to the door, was building the shields back up.  He
glanced over at Kirk and grinned.  "Nice job on the shield by the way.
 You could have built it back the same way from this side.  A handy
thing to know if you ever need to get in without someone noticing the
lock's been jimmied."  He winked at Chris.

Kirk glanced over at her; her look was grim.

"Tough room."  Weasel laughed to himself.  "Don't like me much, do
you, Missy?"

Kirk held back laughter at the name.  That one was sure to piss her
off.

"Name's Christine."

"Yeah, well, Mac here will tell you, I have issues with names."  He
turned away from the door, got close--too close--to Chris.  "You can
relax.  I'm on your side."

She didn't move.  "That remains to be seen.  Who was it you were
waiting for?"

"That's none of your business."

She stepped closer, their noses were nearly touching.  "I'm the local
slayer.  That makes it my business."

Weasel glanced over at Kirk.  "You really like your chicks this
aggressive?  Me, I prefer something a little softer."  He looked back
at her.  "There's a non-violence spell in effect here.  You can't
start anything."  He grasped her arms, moved her back a bit, then
stepped around her.

"You are one ballsy man," Kirk muttered as he followed Weasel down the
staircase to the workroom.

"It's like with a dog.  You can't show any fear," Weasel said, loud
enough for Chris to hear from behind Kirk.

"Generally speaking, it's bad policy to goad a dog," Chris said, in an
equally loud voice that carried to Weasel.  "Or a slayer."

"Hon, do you get along with anyone?"  Kirk glanced back at her and
winked.

She rolled her eyes.

"And you," Kirk said, as he touched Weasel on the shoulder.  "Quit
baiting my friend."

"Why'd you bring her again?"

Kirk knew Weasel had not forgotten that they needed her help with the
spell he wanted to use against David.  Weasel never forgot anything,
much less something so out of the ordinary.

Weasel pointed to the comfortable chair.  "Sit, missy."

"She's not going to be very helpful if you continue to antagonize
her."  Kirk looked at Chris's face.  Her expression was tight,
uncomfortable.

"Well then, what's a good name?  Doll?  Babe?  Should I call her Hon
like you do?"

"Try Slayer if you can't use my name."  Chris glared at Weasel, but
the look seemed to include Kirk.

"Slayer it is."  Weasel picked up the small glass ball he and Kirk had
been working on.  "Do you know what this is?"

"Looks like an orb.  I don't have much luck with those."

Kirk noticed she made no move to touch it, barely looked at it.

"Yes.  I understand that's true."

Chris glared at Kirk.

"He didn't tell me, Tolvar did.  We were gossiping at lunch one day." 
Weasel laughed.  "It's an orb all right.  But not the kind you're used
to.  It's called an Orb of Thesulah.  They used to be quite rare. 
Until it was discovered that the family that made them was keeping the
quantity low to increase demand and price.  They were 'persuaded' to
increase production."  He rubbed the clear glass ball gently, and a
dim light began to form, followed by some kind of smoky vapor that
began to swirl inside the orb.

"What does it do?"

Weasel glanced at Kirk.  "You didn't tell her?"

"You said I shouldn't."

"But I wasn't sure you'd follow that instruction."  Weasel gave him a
pleased smile.  "I'm proud of you, Mac.  And not sure how you got her
to come without a better explanation than 'just because.'"

Chris stared up at him, her face stony.  "He said 'please.'"

"Ah."  Weasel handed Kirk the orb, then knelt down in front of Chris. 
"I know you don't trust me, or even particularly like me.  But your
friend does, and you're going to have to trust his instincts.  Can you
do that?"

She stared at him for a long moment, then nodded slowly.

"Grudging but still the right answer."  Weasel reached for her hands,
moving slowly, deliberately, as if Chris was a dog who might bite him.
 "We're using the Orb to conjure something that might stop your
vampire long enough for you to use your weapon.  It was your friend's
idea and it's a good one.  Unfortunately, he doesn't have enough
memories to properly build the image."

"Image?"

"Of the girl we want to conjure."

Chris looked up at Kirk.  "Laura?"

He nodded.  

"Why didn't you want him to tell me?"

Weasel had his eyes closed.  "Because she is fresh now, fresh in your
mind and you have no chance to overthink this."  He let go of her
hands, reached out for the globe.

Kirk set it gently in his hand, and Weasel put it in Chris's hand,
then closed her other one over it.  He then stepped to her side,
nodding at Kirk to take the other side.  He put one hand on Chris's
head, the other on top of her hands.  Kirk did the same.

"Close your eyes.  Remember her.  Think of her.  Any memory that
catches your fancy.  What she looked like.  What she sounded like. 
How she acted."

Kirk could feel the orb heating up, even with his hand on the outside
of theirs.  He could hear snatches of Laura's laugh, see her red hair
shining in the sun, saw it the last time, matted and covered with the
blood of slayers and the dust of vampires.  He heard a sob, realized
it was from Chris.

He started to let go but Weasel said softly, "No.  Let her feel it."

Kirk had a vivid image, Laura lying on Chris's bed in her quarters on
the Enterprise, a mischievous look on her face.  Then she gave Chris a
warm hug before jumping into the portal.

Then the scene changed.  Laura wasn't smiling anymore.  She was lying
on the ground, her insides leaking into the bloodstained fields.  She
was brave, so brave.  Dying.  She died, holding tightly to Chris's
hand.

He suddenly felt a twinge of pain--from the orb.

"She's squeezing too hard.  She'll shatter it.  Make her stop," Weasel
said.

"Chris?"  Kirk began to stroke her hair, never breaking the connection
between them as he let his hand roam, trying to reach her.  He slid
his other hand lower, so he could get to her without Weasel's hand in
the way.  "Chris.  It's okay.  Ease up on the orb.  They're just
memories.  It's over."

She took a ragged gasp of air, and her eyes flew open.  She stared
down at the orb like it was some kind of parasite.  "Get it off of
me."

Kirk's tightened his grasp on her hand, afraid that she'd throw the
thing away from her.  "It's okay."  He turned her head toward him, ran
his hand down her cheek.  "It's okay, Chris.  You're on Earth, not on
Vega Hydra."

She was breathing hard, as if she'd fought an army of vampires.  Why
had he thought this was a good idea?  Losing Laura must have been part
of what made her run.  What the hell had he been thinking?

"Let go, Mac," Weasel said, gently prying Chris's hands from the Orb. 
The thing seemed stuck to her skin.

"Get it off," she said again.  

Weasel worked it free, then carried it to the table, setting it on a
stand.  He said a few words over it and the smoke disappeared, and the
light--much brighter now than it had been--faded away.

Kirk knelt down.  Chris was shuddering and her eyes were unfocused,
filled with some deep horror.  A tear ran down her cheek.  Then
another.

"Here," Weasel said, his voice much gentler than it had been.  "This
will warm her up."  He wrapped a throw around her shoulders.  Kneeling
down, he took her hands in his, began to chafe them.  "It's okay,
Christine.  You did very well."  He looked up at Kirk.  "You didn't
tell me the girl practically died in her arms."

"I didn't know.  I was with Spock."  Kirk looked down.  What had he
done?

Chris was still shaking.  Weasel pulled her gently to her feet, then
looked at Kirk.  "Sit down."  Once he sat, Weasel pushed Chris into
his arms.  "Hold her.  Warm her up."  He tucked the throw around her,
found another blanket and put it over her legs.  "I'm going to make
her something hot to drink.

Kirk pulled her close, felt her arms steal round his neck.  She seemed
to relax, nestled closer to him, sobbing now.

"Sweetheart, I'm sorry.  I'm an idiot.  I should have warned you."  

Weasel looked over at him.  "If it makes you feel any better, we got
what we needed in spades.  Nothing wrong with her ability to
visualize."  He smiled grimly, then went back to the herbs he was
mixing.

Kirk stroked her hair, pulling her closer to him.  She'd stopped
shaking and pulled away a little to look at him.  Her look was so
haunted, so deeply hurt.  He leaned in, his lips soft on hers.  He
only meant to kiss her gently.  A friendly kiss.  A comforting kiss. 
But she pulled him closer and her lips were cold and he wanted to warm
them up.  The kiss deepened, their mouths opened, and he began to rub
her back, his hand moving up under her uniform top.

"Well, that's one way to warm her up, Mac.  You want to use the room
upstairs?"

Kirk pulled away slowly.  

Chris was staring at him, her eyes no longer quite so lost, but not
completely normal yet.  She leaned in, kissed him gently, then said
softly, "He doesn't want to use the room."

Kirk thought he had never heard her sound more sad.  

She sighed and cuddled back against him, whispering, "You might want
to move your hand?"

He pulled it out from under her top.

Weasel walked over with the tea, handing it to her before laying his
hand on her forehead.  She didn't seem to mind his touch but she
didn't look at him.

He turned her chin gently so she had to meet his eyes.  "I am sorry. 
If I'd known how powerful this would be, I'd have prepared you for
it."

She took a breath, the sound was still ragged.  "Maybe it's better
that you didn't.  For it to work with David, it's going to have to be
the real thing."

He smiled, let go of her face.  "This is true."  He glanced over at
the orb.  "Tomorrow, Mac, we'll work on how you're going to use it."

"Why can't you do it?" Chris asked.   "You're the big magician,
right?"

Weasel smiled at her. "I can't.  Your buddy here has to do it."

She looked at Kirk, then back at Weasel.  "But why?"

Kirk suddenly wondered why he hadn't asked that.

"Because I can't."

"But you're his teacher.  You're more powerful.  You can."  

Kirk had a feeling she was glaring at Weasel, giving him the slayer
stare.

Weasel sat down on a stool, stared at the floor.  "I can do magic
here.  At the motel.   But nowhere else."

"That's bull," Kirk said.  "That morning in the morgue.  With Carl. 
You did--"

"--I did nothing.  You did it, Mac.  I just told you what to do." 
Weasel shook his head.  "I'd be no use to you at all out there."  He
laughed, the sound was extraordinarily bitter.  "Here's some free
advice:  Never piss off The Powers That Be."

"I don't understand," Kirk said.

Weasel waved his arms around, seemed to be encompassing more than the
room.  "This place is a dimensional way station.  I'm the station
master.  I have been ever since I thought I didn't need to listen to
the Powers.  They showed me.  They put me in charge of this rat trap."
 He grinned at Kirk.  "Yeah, you sure called it."

"And you can't do magic outside of it?"

Weasel shook his head.  "If I want to wield magic, I have to do it
here.  I have extremely limited reach outside the motel--a couple of
meters or so."

"So you're trapped?" Chris asked.

"I can leave anytime I want.  But I'm normal out there, worse than
normal.  I'm diminished."  He stood up.  "I've got to go check on that
new arrival.  She can be a bit tetchy."

"Who are they?  These arrivals?"

Weasel smiled.  "Beings in need of a little rest.  Working for the
powers.  They're safe as long as they're here.  Free to relax, let
down their guard and sleep, take a swim, whatever the motel
offers...which admittedly isn't much.  But sometimes clean sheets and
not having to be afraid are more than enough to make a vacation."  He
stood, walked over to them.  "Drink up," he told her.

She finished her tea, handed him the cup.  "Thanks."

He touched her hair.  "I am sorry."

She nodded, watched him as he walked out.  Kirk ran his finger along
her cheek and smiled when she turned to look at him.

"I'm sorry too."

She nodded.  "I know you'd never hurt me intentionally.  You just
didn't think to ask."

"I should have."

"He told you not to."

Kirk nodded.   Yes, Weasel had told him not to, and he'd followed his
instructions blindly.  Was that good?

Chris shook her head.  "It's done, Jim.  Just hold me until I'm warm
again?"

He nodded, tucked the throw around her more securely.

"It was a nice kiss," she said softly.  

When he looked at her, she grinned.

"You must be feeling better," he said, unable to work much of a smile
up himself.  If it hadn't been for him, she wouldn't have been feeing
bad in the first place.

She nodded, closing her eyes and relaxing against him.

He held her, watched her sleep until it was time for him to wake her
up.  His leg fell asleep and his arms ached, but it seemed a small
price to pay after what he'd put her through.


End part 1 of 7

--
Stephen Ratliff
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