whitewolfwarrior2
05-16-2003, 07:22 PM
Well ~said with a nervious sigh~..... Here I go. Just so you know this fic has like absolutely nothing to do wiht farscape but I figured I'd share it anyway... I have a sequel in mind that has to do with Farscape though! I think I'll write it this week end and post it. Well here goes nothing ........ oh, yeah I forgot to mention I haven't gotten around to typing up part one so please forgive me! I'll also post that when I get around to it!
Medieval Times (continuation) Part II
I awoke to the soft electrical hum of a car motor. Everything was swirling back into place. I was propped up against the courtyard wall. I became suddenly aware that I was being watched by a figure that was hanging back in the shadows. I shifted, and tried to get up but I was in too much pain. My cloak was bloodstained and weather-beaten. The man seeing my movements walked quickly over to me.
“Who the hell are you?” I asked.
“Are you okay?” he asked me rather than answering my question.
“Uh, Yes, I think so. Who are you?” I asked and tried getting up again. I managed to climb to my feet and I quickly clutched the stone wall with my right hand.
“I’m fine.” I said in a not so persuasive tone.
“Really! Then I don’t see the need to be leaning against the wall,” he straightly replied.
Then I stupidly, in my anger and while trying to prove something, let go of the wall. I swayed slightly, practically losing my balance and fell against the wall. He caught me after I took a few steps and while admiring my handy work became physically drained and fell. He laid me down gently and finally answered my first question.
“The name’s Charley,” he said in a conceited manner.
“Well, Charley, what the hell do you think you’re doing? Wait. No. Actually what the hell did you already do?” I said slowly becoming frustrated and enraged.
“Well, I called an ambulance because you’re bleeding a lot, but first I poked you with a stick to make sure you were still alive.” he replied.
“You did what?” I yelled.
“I poked you with a…”
“No, the other thing!” I cut in.
“I called an ambulance.” he replied.
At that I tried to spring to my feet and flee, but by then he was holding me down.
“Let me go!” I said, struggling with him. Finally, I stopped and said in a soft, innocent tone, “Okay, I’ll stop. Just get off of me.” As he straightened up, I rolled onto my stomach, stretching like a cat. Suddenly, I sprang up and grabbed the chandelier. I used the rest of my strength to fling myself to a nearby tree, landing on a branch. I sat there resting.
Charley trotted over to the tree and yelled up, in a frustrated tone, “Come down!”
“No!” I replied while trying to formulate an escape plan.
“Oh, come on. I can’t climb. You said you wouldn’t try to run.” Said Charley.
“Well, if you noticed, you shouldn’t trust everything I say. When the ambulance gets here, tell them that you called for Mordred over there.” I said, pointing to Mordred’s dead carcass.
“No way! Get down here! Are you crazy? You need medical attention or else you’ll be just as dead as that dead dude over there,” he said.
“Why should you care? Oh, and just to tell you, I’ve been through hell and back. Literally, I have. So don’t think that I’m really afraid of death,” I said getting a bit paler.
Suddenly, before Charley could answer, a police car and an ambulance pulled up next to the hunk of junk he calls his car.
The police officer walked over to Charley and said, “Now, what’s the problem?”
“She’s bleeding profusely and she’s refusing to come down so she can be treated. By the way, why are you here? I just called for an ambulance,” Charley stated to the officer, wondering if the officer could do anything about it.
The paramedics in the ambulance were all ready and gave Charley and the police officer the thumbs up.
“Now come down from the tree good lookin’,” the officer said trying to persuade me to come down.
“Over my dead body. By the way, why don’t you tell those paramedics to go help someone who needs it. While you’re at it, why don’t you get yourself a doughnut too,” I said.
“Don’t make this harder on yourself than it has to be. Just come down from the tree,” the officer said getting frustrated at his failed attempts.
“Go away, all of you! Including you Charley. I don’t need your help!” I yelled down.
The police officer looked over at Charley and whispered, “Is she nuts? Where do you know her from?”
“I don’t know. I just found her lying here barely moving. When I told her I called an ambulance, she flipped,” Charley replied.
“Maybe if we can get her down we should stick her in the psycho ward!” the officer said in a whisper.
“I heard that, and I’m not crazy!” I shouted.
“Well then, why don’t you prove it and come down so we can help you. Don’t make us come up there after you,” Charley called out.
“You want me, come and get me,” I replied quickly.
“Okay, I will,” he said, and somehow, for a guy who can’t climb, managed to pull himself up onto the first branch. He surprisingly made it to the branch next to me and sat down.
“Why won’t you come down?” he asked, clinging to the branch for dear life. “What are you so afraid of?”
“Nothing. It’s just − I,” pausing I sighed. “For starter’s, I don’t have a good history with hospitals. Secondly, I don’t even know why I told you this in the first place. Hey! Why should you care anyway?” I asked.
“I don’t know. I’m just getting this vibe that you need me to help you or something. Now can we please get down?” Charley asked.
“Like I said before, you want me, come get me. You’ll have to figure out how to get me down yourself, and I can almost guarantee that it won’t be easy,” I replied stubbornly.
Charley reached his hand down and asked the police officer for his cuffs. The officer tossed them up to him wondering why he didn’t think of that himself. After a brief struggle, Charley pulled me down, my hands cuffed behind my back.
As soon as I touched the ground and Charley un-cuffed me, the paramedics rushed over.
“Why are you so afraid? What happened to you that makes you not like paramedics?” Charley asked me as the paramedics surveyed my injuries quickly and dashed back getting their supplies from the truck.
“You don’t even want to know,” I muttered.
As they pulled out some morphine, my eyes glinted catching Charley’s attention. I then saw a glimpse from a past experience of waking up with a needle stuck in me after being drugged with some experimental formula some psycho used on me.
Charley, seeing the look in my eyes told them, “No morphine. I think she would prefer it.”
“But she’s lost a lot of blood,” the paramedic said.
I interrupted, “Charley, all you need to do is bring me my duffel bag. It’s over there on the staircase, and spray me with the bottle that has the biohazard label on it.”
“Are you crazy!? That will kill you! Charley yelled.
“No it won’t. It’s not what it appears. I just put the biohazard symbol on it because I like the skull and crossbones, and so I won’t get it confused with anything else.” I replied.
“Well, okay, but if this doesn’t work, they get to try,” Charley said.
Charley went and did what I told him to do, but first he tested it on a nearby drooping flower, which resulted in a newly – blossoming flower.
When he sprayed me, the two paramedics left, and the police officer headed for the nearest donut shop.
I lay breathing heavily, doubled over, for a moment. Then my breathing slowed to it’s normal pace.
Looking at the bottle, Charley asked, “What is that stuff?”
“Idiot spit,” I replied springing to my feet. I would have told you earlier if you’d have listened. Not that you weren’t, but if I mentioned it right away, you would’ve thought me to be delusional, “ I said matter of factly.
Later we arrived at Charley’s place. He lived in a three floor, lavender mansion and had a Lamborgini parked in the driveway. Inside his house was a huge staircase. The kitchen was tiled and the other rooms had hardwood floors. He had two balconies and a small patio, all lined perfectly above each other. I noticed as I sat down on a dark blue couch that he had several paintings of models I had never seen or heard of before. I admired the second floor artwork.
“So, what do you do for a living?” Charley asked.
“Well, I do a lot of things. And you?” I answered, observing my surroundings.
“I do a few jobs here and there. You want a Zima or Mike’s Hard Lemonade?” he asked, trying not to give me a straight answer.
“A Zima, please,” I replied.
As Charley entered, I asked, “Why did you want to help me back there anyway? You don’t even know me.”
He handed me my drink,, and I twirled it between my hands so that I could see the liquid whirl pooling inside.
“Maybe because I’m attracted to you,” Charley answered, as he sat down on the couch next to me. He took a sip of his beverage. I drank mine quickly and placed the empty bottle down on the glass coffee table.
Charley then placed his hand on my left thigh and putting his drink down, turned to face me a little more. I glanced down at his hand and then back at him. At that moment he removed his hand from my leg and placed his hands on both sides of my head and kissed me. Well, he was good looking and got the better of me. After we made out for a while, he wanted more and hit on me some more, and when that didn’t work he became enraged. Charley grabbed me by the neck and started trying to strangle me. He had managed my trench coat off of me earlier. I struggled and he threw me down against the glass coffee table shattering it. I grabbed a shard of glass and stabbed him in the arm with it. He hit me a couple of times, and then went to get a knife from the kitchen. Taking my chances, after remembering he locked the door, I ran up to the third floor. I scrambled down the hallway. He grabbed me by the front of my shirt, slammed be against the wall and started trying to make out with me again. I spit in his face and he removed his hand from my shirt to wipe his face. I bolted back to the end of the hall but he was right behind me. I had no chance of getting down to the first floor quick enough. I ran into the only room with an open door. I turned around hoping he wasn’t going to follow me; hoping he was going to close and lock the from the other side. He followed me into the room and I backed out onto the balcony. When I reached the railing, I tilted by head a little and looked down, then looked at Charley again. He was standing in front of me, and started feeling me up. His hand was going where no man’s hand had gone before. I kicked him between the legs and closed my eyes, tilting my head up, readying for the blow that would set me free from his torment. I leaned against the rail slightly and at the very moment he slapped me. I won’t lie. It hurt like hell but I didn’t have time to cry out in pain. The impact flipped me over the rail. I opened by eyes, and not minute later the second floor balcony broke my fall. I flipped off that and landed on my stomach on the patio floor. I lay there for a minute, got up and dashed to his jeep, a rusty hunk of junk! I grabbed my trench coat and decided it would take too long to hotwire his car, so I ran. As I reached the edge of his property, I saw a car coming so I tried stopping it, but the driver just flipped me off and kept going. I trudged down along the deserted road, and as I was walking to the other side of the road, a Honda Civic came out of a blind driveway. By the time I noticed it, and the driver noticed me, it was a little too late. She slammed on the brakes, but she was too close anyway.
The front bumper made impact just above my knees. I flew over the roof of the car and landed on my back behind it. The driver got out to see if I was okay. I groaned and then fainted. She pulled me into the backseat of her 4-door Honda Civic and headed to the hospital to get help.
I woke up in the hospital with an IV jammed in the back of my hand. I removed it and sighed. My partner was sitting next to me.
“What the hell were you thinking? You could’ve gotten yourself killed,” he said.
“How do you even know what happened?” I asked frustrated and sore, lying on a hard marble table.
“Well, for starters you ran off all pissed. Secondly, it’s been over a day, your shirt is ripped, your trench coat is blood-stained, and your bottle of idiot spit is empty,” he answered.
“So, maybe I did have a few problems. What’s it to you? You’re just my partner. Why should you care anyway?” I yelled.
“Well, other than the boss telling me to look after you, I love you!” he said telling me something he had waited to tell me for so long. “I know why you don’t let anyone get close to you. Why you push everyone away. Don’t forget I’m the one who found you stealing food from the grocery store, and who ended your life of scrounging around for food.”
“I don’t need your sympathy. You don’t have to lie to try to make me feel better because it won’t work,” I said.
“I’m serious. I really do love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I know how your parents were murdered and how their murderer is after you now. I know why you dug through the dumpsters; because you had to. You and no place to go, and now you still don’t like getting help, or asking for help when you need it. Every time someone starts getting close to you, you push them away. Please let me be an exception to that rule. I’m madly in love with you and I don’t care what I have to do to be able to live the rest of my life with you,” my partner confessed.
After that, he lifted me up and hugged me. Tears were slowly streaming down my face. The medic checked me, and everything was pretty much fine. I escaped that ordeal with only a temporary limp, a few bruises, and possibly a life companion.
To be continued in a sec .......
Medieval Times (continuation) Part II
I awoke to the soft electrical hum of a car motor. Everything was swirling back into place. I was propped up against the courtyard wall. I became suddenly aware that I was being watched by a figure that was hanging back in the shadows. I shifted, and tried to get up but I was in too much pain. My cloak was bloodstained and weather-beaten. The man seeing my movements walked quickly over to me.
“Who the hell are you?” I asked.
“Are you okay?” he asked me rather than answering my question.
“Uh, Yes, I think so. Who are you?” I asked and tried getting up again. I managed to climb to my feet and I quickly clutched the stone wall with my right hand.
“I’m fine.” I said in a not so persuasive tone.
“Really! Then I don’t see the need to be leaning against the wall,” he straightly replied.
Then I stupidly, in my anger and while trying to prove something, let go of the wall. I swayed slightly, practically losing my balance and fell against the wall. He caught me after I took a few steps and while admiring my handy work became physically drained and fell. He laid me down gently and finally answered my first question.
“The name’s Charley,” he said in a conceited manner.
“Well, Charley, what the hell do you think you’re doing? Wait. No. Actually what the hell did you already do?” I said slowly becoming frustrated and enraged.
“Well, I called an ambulance because you’re bleeding a lot, but first I poked you with a stick to make sure you were still alive.” he replied.
“You did what?” I yelled.
“I poked you with a…”
“No, the other thing!” I cut in.
“I called an ambulance.” he replied.
At that I tried to spring to my feet and flee, but by then he was holding me down.
“Let me go!” I said, struggling with him. Finally, I stopped and said in a soft, innocent tone, “Okay, I’ll stop. Just get off of me.” As he straightened up, I rolled onto my stomach, stretching like a cat. Suddenly, I sprang up and grabbed the chandelier. I used the rest of my strength to fling myself to a nearby tree, landing on a branch. I sat there resting.
Charley trotted over to the tree and yelled up, in a frustrated tone, “Come down!”
“No!” I replied while trying to formulate an escape plan.
“Oh, come on. I can’t climb. You said you wouldn’t try to run.” Said Charley.
“Well, if you noticed, you shouldn’t trust everything I say. When the ambulance gets here, tell them that you called for Mordred over there.” I said, pointing to Mordred’s dead carcass.
“No way! Get down here! Are you crazy? You need medical attention or else you’ll be just as dead as that dead dude over there,” he said.
“Why should you care? Oh, and just to tell you, I’ve been through hell and back. Literally, I have. So don’t think that I’m really afraid of death,” I said getting a bit paler.
Suddenly, before Charley could answer, a police car and an ambulance pulled up next to the hunk of junk he calls his car.
The police officer walked over to Charley and said, “Now, what’s the problem?”
“She’s bleeding profusely and she’s refusing to come down so she can be treated. By the way, why are you here? I just called for an ambulance,” Charley stated to the officer, wondering if the officer could do anything about it.
The paramedics in the ambulance were all ready and gave Charley and the police officer the thumbs up.
“Now come down from the tree good lookin’,” the officer said trying to persuade me to come down.
“Over my dead body. By the way, why don’t you tell those paramedics to go help someone who needs it. While you’re at it, why don’t you get yourself a doughnut too,” I said.
“Don’t make this harder on yourself than it has to be. Just come down from the tree,” the officer said getting frustrated at his failed attempts.
“Go away, all of you! Including you Charley. I don’t need your help!” I yelled down.
The police officer looked over at Charley and whispered, “Is she nuts? Where do you know her from?”
“I don’t know. I just found her lying here barely moving. When I told her I called an ambulance, she flipped,” Charley replied.
“Maybe if we can get her down we should stick her in the psycho ward!” the officer said in a whisper.
“I heard that, and I’m not crazy!” I shouted.
“Well then, why don’t you prove it and come down so we can help you. Don’t make us come up there after you,” Charley called out.
“You want me, come and get me,” I replied quickly.
“Okay, I will,” he said, and somehow, for a guy who can’t climb, managed to pull himself up onto the first branch. He surprisingly made it to the branch next to me and sat down.
“Why won’t you come down?” he asked, clinging to the branch for dear life. “What are you so afraid of?”
“Nothing. It’s just − I,” pausing I sighed. “For starter’s, I don’t have a good history with hospitals. Secondly, I don’t even know why I told you this in the first place. Hey! Why should you care anyway?” I asked.
“I don’t know. I’m just getting this vibe that you need me to help you or something. Now can we please get down?” Charley asked.
“Like I said before, you want me, come get me. You’ll have to figure out how to get me down yourself, and I can almost guarantee that it won’t be easy,” I replied stubbornly.
Charley reached his hand down and asked the police officer for his cuffs. The officer tossed them up to him wondering why he didn’t think of that himself. After a brief struggle, Charley pulled me down, my hands cuffed behind my back.
As soon as I touched the ground and Charley un-cuffed me, the paramedics rushed over.
“Why are you so afraid? What happened to you that makes you not like paramedics?” Charley asked me as the paramedics surveyed my injuries quickly and dashed back getting their supplies from the truck.
“You don’t even want to know,” I muttered.
As they pulled out some morphine, my eyes glinted catching Charley’s attention. I then saw a glimpse from a past experience of waking up with a needle stuck in me after being drugged with some experimental formula some psycho used on me.
Charley, seeing the look in my eyes told them, “No morphine. I think she would prefer it.”
“But she’s lost a lot of blood,” the paramedic said.
I interrupted, “Charley, all you need to do is bring me my duffel bag. It’s over there on the staircase, and spray me with the bottle that has the biohazard label on it.”
“Are you crazy!? That will kill you! Charley yelled.
“No it won’t. It’s not what it appears. I just put the biohazard symbol on it because I like the skull and crossbones, and so I won’t get it confused with anything else.” I replied.
“Well, okay, but if this doesn’t work, they get to try,” Charley said.
Charley went and did what I told him to do, but first he tested it on a nearby drooping flower, which resulted in a newly – blossoming flower.
When he sprayed me, the two paramedics left, and the police officer headed for the nearest donut shop.
I lay breathing heavily, doubled over, for a moment. Then my breathing slowed to it’s normal pace.
Looking at the bottle, Charley asked, “What is that stuff?”
“Idiot spit,” I replied springing to my feet. I would have told you earlier if you’d have listened. Not that you weren’t, but if I mentioned it right away, you would’ve thought me to be delusional, “ I said matter of factly.
Later we arrived at Charley’s place. He lived in a three floor, lavender mansion and had a Lamborgini parked in the driveway. Inside his house was a huge staircase. The kitchen was tiled and the other rooms had hardwood floors. He had two balconies and a small patio, all lined perfectly above each other. I noticed as I sat down on a dark blue couch that he had several paintings of models I had never seen or heard of before. I admired the second floor artwork.
“So, what do you do for a living?” Charley asked.
“Well, I do a lot of things. And you?” I answered, observing my surroundings.
“I do a few jobs here and there. You want a Zima or Mike’s Hard Lemonade?” he asked, trying not to give me a straight answer.
“A Zima, please,” I replied.
As Charley entered, I asked, “Why did you want to help me back there anyway? You don’t even know me.”
He handed me my drink,, and I twirled it between my hands so that I could see the liquid whirl pooling inside.
“Maybe because I’m attracted to you,” Charley answered, as he sat down on the couch next to me. He took a sip of his beverage. I drank mine quickly and placed the empty bottle down on the glass coffee table.
Charley then placed his hand on my left thigh and putting his drink down, turned to face me a little more. I glanced down at his hand and then back at him. At that moment he removed his hand from my leg and placed his hands on both sides of my head and kissed me. Well, he was good looking and got the better of me. After we made out for a while, he wanted more and hit on me some more, and when that didn’t work he became enraged. Charley grabbed me by the neck and started trying to strangle me. He had managed my trench coat off of me earlier. I struggled and he threw me down against the glass coffee table shattering it. I grabbed a shard of glass and stabbed him in the arm with it. He hit me a couple of times, and then went to get a knife from the kitchen. Taking my chances, after remembering he locked the door, I ran up to the third floor. I scrambled down the hallway. He grabbed me by the front of my shirt, slammed be against the wall and started trying to make out with me again. I spit in his face and he removed his hand from my shirt to wipe his face. I bolted back to the end of the hall but he was right behind me. I had no chance of getting down to the first floor quick enough. I ran into the only room with an open door. I turned around hoping he wasn’t going to follow me; hoping he was going to close and lock the from the other side. He followed me into the room and I backed out onto the balcony. When I reached the railing, I tilted by head a little and looked down, then looked at Charley again. He was standing in front of me, and started feeling me up. His hand was going where no man’s hand had gone before. I kicked him between the legs and closed my eyes, tilting my head up, readying for the blow that would set me free from his torment. I leaned against the rail slightly and at the very moment he slapped me. I won’t lie. It hurt like hell but I didn’t have time to cry out in pain. The impact flipped me over the rail. I opened by eyes, and not minute later the second floor balcony broke my fall. I flipped off that and landed on my stomach on the patio floor. I lay there for a minute, got up and dashed to his jeep, a rusty hunk of junk! I grabbed my trench coat and decided it would take too long to hotwire his car, so I ran. As I reached the edge of his property, I saw a car coming so I tried stopping it, but the driver just flipped me off and kept going. I trudged down along the deserted road, and as I was walking to the other side of the road, a Honda Civic came out of a blind driveway. By the time I noticed it, and the driver noticed me, it was a little too late. She slammed on the brakes, but she was too close anyway.
The front bumper made impact just above my knees. I flew over the roof of the car and landed on my back behind it. The driver got out to see if I was okay. I groaned and then fainted. She pulled me into the backseat of her 4-door Honda Civic and headed to the hospital to get help.
I woke up in the hospital with an IV jammed in the back of my hand. I removed it and sighed. My partner was sitting next to me.
“What the hell were you thinking? You could’ve gotten yourself killed,” he said.
“How do you even know what happened?” I asked frustrated and sore, lying on a hard marble table.
“Well, for starters you ran off all pissed. Secondly, it’s been over a day, your shirt is ripped, your trench coat is blood-stained, and your bottle of idiot spit is empty,” he answered.
“So, maybe I did have a few problems. What’s it to you? You’re just my partner. Why should you care anyway?” I yelled.
“Well, other than the boss telling me to look after you, I love you!” he said telling me something he had waited to tell me for so long. “I know why you don’t let anyone get close to you. Why you push everyone away. Don’t forget I’m the one who found you stealing food from the grocery store, and who ended your life of scrounging around for food.”
“I don’t need your sympathy. You don’t have to lie to try to make me feel better because it won’t work,” I said.
“I’m serious. I really do love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I know how your parents were murdered and how their murderer is after you now. I know why you dug through the dumpsters; because you had to. You and no place to go, and now you still don’t like getting help, or asking for help when you need it. Every time someone starts getting close to you, you push them away. Please let me be an exception to that rule. I’m madly in love with you and I don’t care what I have to do to be able to live the rest of my life with you,” my partner confessed.
After that, he lifted me up and hugged me. Tears were slowly streaming down my face. The medic checked me, and everything was pretty much fine. I escaped that ordeal with only a temporary limp, a few bruises, and possibly a life companion.
To be continued in a sec .......