[Reviews - 13]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story | ePub eBook Chapter or Story | Printer Chapter or Story

Has been viewed 2137 times

- Text Size +




Title: Forget Me Not
Authors: The Kings of Mercia
Hotliped Jen
Pattyanne


Summary: A round robin fic we cooked up, just
for the hell of it.

Feedback: Frankly, we'll take all we can get.






Chapter 3 by Pattyanne:




"All right.....yes, I will....uh-huh....thanks again.....bye."


Replacing the phone in its cradle, the redhead turned
to face her unknown companion, looking even paler than
her normal skin tone.


"You aren't going to believe what this 'Giles' person just told
me," she said, then took and released a calming breath. "My
name is 'Willow'. Like a tree! Who names their kid after a
tree?"


The other girl gazed at her with soulful brown eyes. "I think
it's a pretty name," she offered consolingly. "I don't suppose
he knew who I am?"


"Oh...yes, he did," Willow nodded. "Sorry...um....your name
is Tara. Which is also a really pretty name."


Smiling shyly, Tara's gaze skittered away for a moment. "Thank
you," she said softly. "I wish I could remember who gave it to me."


"Well, whoever they are, they must be very nice people." Sigh-
ing deeply, Willow picked up the notepad she's been scribbling
on and headed for the living room sofa. "You should probably come
and sit down for the rest of this, because either this 'Giles' is cer-
tifiably insane, or we're living in bizarro world."


The two girls sat close together on the couch, feeling an instinctual
pull towards each other that only Willow knew the reason for. She
reached for Tara's hand, a little surprised when the girl took it and
curled her own fingers around Willow's.


'Okay...um...let me get this part out of the way first. We're gay,
you and me, and we're in love."


Tara didn't look particularly surprised. "I was kind of feeling some-
thing like that," she murmured, her lips curving in another shy
smile.

Willow's head tilted to one side. "Yeah? Me, too." She gazed
into Tara's eyes for a moment, then shook her head. "But anyway,
there's a lot more to tell you." After a pause to gather her thoughts,
she asked, "Do you know anything about vampires?"


**************************************************



The bathroom light was harsh and unforgiving of
flaws. She examined her face in a mirror that was
cracked on both sides, and repaired with black electrical
tape.

Utterly unfamiliar but not unattractive, she decided,
staring at herself. She had a nice complexion, lightly
tanned, a nose she wasn't thrilled with but could tolerate,
straight white teeth, and large hazel eyes that looked semi-
frightened and wholly confused.

"So...who are you?" she asked the hazy reflection. The sound
of her own voice still rang no bells in her mind. It was as
strange to her as everything else. As strange as......


"You coming out of there sometime today, Pet?"


......the stranger she was apparently sharing this room
with!


Flustered at the interruption, she snapped her gaze away
from the mirror and quickly spun the taps open. "Just...just a
second."

After soaping and rinsing her hands three times, she
chose the cleanest looking towel on the rack and dried them,
making a face at the thinness of the terrycloth. The piece of
fabric had to be at least 30 years old, with fraying edges and
a stain she didn't want to investigate too closely.

She rehung the towel, straightening it with ridiculous care,
then took another look at herself in the mirror.

Well....whoever she turned out to be, she certainly had good
taste in lingerie.

Smoothing her honey colored hair back from her face, she
opened the bathroom door and rejoined her companion.

He was laying on the bed, one arm behind his head, his
free hand holding a television remote that was held together
with another piece of electrical tape, possibly off the same
roll. The TVs picture was snowy, making him frown as he
flipped channels.

In her earlier distress at her predicament, she hadn't really
noticed how attractive he was. Now, she couldn't seem to stop
noticing. Not exactly an appropriate response to the situation,
but there it was all the same.

The fact that he was lying before her in nothing more than
worn Doc Martens and a pair of snug jeans wasn't exactly
helping her repress.

His face was half turned from her, the flickering light of the
TV screen lending its outline to the sharp beauty of his features.
Platinum blonde hair that had to be a bleach job lay against
his scalp in a ruffed muss of loose curls. His chest was hard,
but rather inviting looking at the same time; it looked like
a nice place to lay your head if you were troubled about
something.

Her gaze continued merrily down his frame, noting with particular
appreciation an abdomen corded with hard muscle, a lean waist,
and slim legs encased in snug denim.

Following right on the heels of her inspection was a totally
shocking and unexpected surge of feminine desire, a surge she
immediately denied the existence of.


Reading her thoughts with alarming accuracy, he smiled
without looking at her. "Like what you see, Pet?"


Blushing furiously, she swallowed a painful lump in her
throat. "Have you remembered anything?"


Her companion shook his head. "Not a bloody thing. S'like I
didn't even exist until I woke up here in this room." He
turned his head and let his eyes travel up and down her
body. "With you," he added softly.


She stared at him. For some reason, his personality had
undergone some subtle shift since her retreat into the bathroom.
His accent had also changed, sounding less cultured.


With a determined shake of her head, she crossed the room
and sat down in the ratty looking armchair. Keeping her knees
firmly together, she looked at him and caught him staring at
the side of her neck. "What?" she asked, her hand moving
instinctively to touch the area he was examining so intently.


"Um..nothing." He gave her a quizzical look. "Are you hungry?"




***************************************************



"Where are they?"


"We left the witches at the house. The boy and his girlfriend are
in a boat at the Lake Marina."

"And the Slayer?"


"In a motel room. The Sunnydale Motor Inn, I think it's
called. Her and the vampire both."


Yellow eyes narrowed. "You left them in the same room to-
gether?" Crimsa demanded. "Have you no functioning brain
cells whatsoever?"


His servant quivered. "Well.....yes," he stammered, stepping
back two paces. "I...I shouldn't have?"


"Of course not, you cretin!" the other demon thundered, his
eyes turning bright red for a moment. "The vampire may not have
his memory...but his need to feed and his instinct to
kill will remain intact. The Slayer has no idea what to expect
or who she is. She will NOT be able to fight him off."


Roy gaped at his master. "Yeah, but....but she's the slayer. Who...who
cares if he kills her?"


Crimsa's eyes flashed yellow again. "I care! I want the slayer dead
at MY hands....not at his...and not until after the ritual. When I have
her power at my command...THEN I will tear her apart and scatter
the pieces to the four winds," he bellowed angrily, visibly growing
in size before his cowering minion.


"Okay...okay," Roy said, trying to soothe ruffled scales. "Not a
problem...no way they're awake yet, so I'll just head on out and
take care of it, boss."


"Fix what you have bungled, fool! Or I will remove your use-
less head from your body with my teeth!"


"Sure, boss...sure thing. Consider it done." Roy held up both
hands in a conciliatory gesture. "Um....don't get bigger."


"GO!!!!"


"Yeah. Going. Going right now."



TBC....

(Next chapter by Kings Of Mercia)





You must login (register) to review.