Prometheus Unbound - ch. 3 (09/03/09)
Another update, this time on a possibly more popular story. And the plot finally starts showing up, too! ^_^
Title: Prometheus Unbound (3/28)
Author: That'd be me. *grins* Andrew, Obsidian, call me what you want. But only if it's nice. ;)
Rating: R (C'mon, it's a sequel to Pantheon. What did you expect? ;) )
Comments: At long last, it's finally here. ^_^ Hopefully you'll like this one as much as you did Pantheon, if not more so. Now, there is going to be a third fandom included this time around, but, as before, I'm not telling you what it is, yet. You'll find out soon enough, don't worry.
Legal Disclaimer: I do not own 'D.E.B.S.', as I am not Angela Robinson. I also don't own 'The Pretender' (which was created by Steven Long Mitchell and Craig W. Van Sickle). Nor do I own , as I am not, nor do I work for, Universal Studios. (Yes, an actual clue! *lol*)
Chapter Three
It was amazing how much simply resuming a normal sleep schedule improved her mood.
Raquel had perked up enough to actually whip up a full breakfast for her team on their first day of classes, as something of a peace offering. Bethany, true to her word, had been refraining from going out to get drunk and partying. Not to say that she didn't see any other guys, but at least now she wasn't waking anyone up doing it, which was about the best anyone could ask of her.
Things still weren't quite back to normal, though. Denied her usual method of coping with the negative feelings roiling through her body, Bethany was at times tense and irritable. Monica tended to try and make her feel better, unwittingly presenting herself as a target of convenience. Quite naturally, Kathleen did not appreciate this, and Raquel learned to step in quickly to cut off any arguments before they got too serious - or loud.
That didn't happen too often, thank goodness. Fortunately, their classes were providing an excellent distraction from personal problems. And the one time Bethany had looked like she was going to fall back into old habits, all Raquel had needed to do was hold up an electric razor and switch it on for a few seconds before Bethany had taken the hint.
So, all in all, she supposed things were about as good as they were likely to get, unless Bethany actually went to counseling like she should have. And the sound dampener had even been installed around Monica and Kathleen's room, allowing everyone else to sleep peacefully through the night.
She just wished - uselessly - that she didn't have to do so alone. Her bed had felt so lonely, lately.
If by lately, one meant three months.
She simply didn't understand how someone she'd known for a matter of days could affect her so, and hadn't really had much time to think about it.
Nor did she now. Between playing peacemaker among her teammates and making sure they all got to class on time, she felt like she'd been transported back in time to grade school. It was rather distracting.
By Thursday, she was already getting irritated by it. The only consolation was that she wasn't acting in place of people who should have been doing all that. This time it really was her job. Sort of.
"So, today's our first 'Capes and Capers' class," Kathleen said as she took a bite of her waffles and tried not to grimace. Bethany had taken a wild stab at making waffles from scratch, and they hadn't come out quite right. (Those at the table with actual culinary experience suspected she'd accidentally forgotten to include an ingredient or two, but refrained from embarrassing her by openly pointing it out.) Butter and syrup had been applied rather liberally by all. "I have to admit, I'm excited. This is supposed to be a great class."
"And hey," Bethany added with a smile, "if we get stuck trying to figure something out, we have a criminal mastermind of our own we can ask."
"If she's around at the time," Monica pointed out.
Irritation flickered over Bethany's face. "Yes, obviously if she's around."
"Given that most assignments aren't due for a week or two, chances are that she will be at some point," Raquel interjected without looking at either of them.
Bethany noticed, and made an effort to calm down before she could get too worked up. "This sort of thing must be all kinds of nostalgic for you, huh?" she asked Raquel sympathetically.
"I am the eldest of five," Raquel agreed with a tired smile. "I've had to settle my share of disagreements." More then her share, really.
Much, much more.
"Why do I keep thinking you only have three siblings?" Kathleen wondered aloud.
Raquel sighed. "I don't talk about Lee - Carolyna - all that much," she admitted.
"She's the second eldest of you, right?" Bethany asked hesitantly. After rooming with Raquel for years, she knew more then the others about the mysterious sibling, but even that didn't amount to much.
"Yeah. Only about nine months, give or take a few days. She was a grade below me in school. We were... really close, growing up. She did try to help me out with the others when she could, but... Well, she had some... disagreements, with our parents. More so with out father."
"That seems to happen a lot in your house," Monica observed.
Raquel smiled mirthlessly. "You could say. Anyway, she wanted to be a singer. Papi did not approve. They argued about it. A lot. She settled things by leaving home and pursuing a career on her own. That was three years ago, and we haven't heard anything from her since. Of course, Papi wasn't happy when she left, and guess who bore the brunt of that?"
"Your sister hasn't gotten in touch with you in three years?" Bethany asked, incredulous. "I may be the only one here without any brothers or sisters, and even I know that's just not cool."
"Is she okay?" Monica asked, concerned. "I mean, if you haven't heard anything about her in three years..."
"I didn't say we hadn't heard anything about her," Raquel corrected. "I just she hadn't called. Or written. Or emailed. Or acknowledged the existence of her family in any noticeable way." She rose from the table and headed into the living room, then up the stairs. Her teammates sat there in confusion for several long moments before she returned, carrying a CD case that she tossed to Monica before sitting back down.
Monica looked at it. "Dawn Triunfar. I remember her from American Idol a few years back. Didn't think you liked her much."
"And now you know why."
Even with that, it still took a few seconds for Monica to get it. "Wait. W-wait. Are you saying she's your sister?!"
"I can only assume that her chosen last name is to rub it in to Papi. 'Triunfar' translates as 'to triumph over'."
Nobody knew quite what to say to that. "Um... damn," Kathleen finally managed.
"Yeah. Now hurry up and eat your breakfast, so we can get to class on time," Raquel said, clearly finished with the conversation.
No one argued.
**********************************************
The Oceanside Wellness Center in southern Oregon was actually located about twenty-three miles away from the coast. It was also far away from any houses or stores, built in a wooded area that, for some reason, no one else wanted to expand into.
For some odd reason, no one really wanted to be next door to the thinly disguised mental hospital.
That was just fine with the staff. As far as they were concerned, it meant fewer distractions for their patients. Not that said patients were allowed outside without plenty of supervision - including one or two armed guards - but the less the healing atmosphere of the place was compromised, the better they liked it. Sure, this meant a longer drive to and from work each day, but they could afford it.
What most of the inhabitants of the nearby town didn't know was that the OWC was actually a government run facility, for the care of those who were mentally ill or unstable, while being in possession of extremely sensitive information.
Or, as in the case of one patient in particular, who were simply too dangerous to place anywhere else.
Dr. Leslie Ryan always started the day by checking in on patient #02-154, Samantha Heaton. Samantha - or Sam, as she preferred to be called - was something of a special girl. Committed to their care by the DEBS roughly three months ago, Sam had a fascinating ability - on the rare occasions she was coherent enough to use it - to get inside anyone's head, and figure out what they might be thinking or planning. She'd even accidentally provided a vital clue to the treatment of another patient when she began mimicking him, then stopped and wondered in confusion what needles had to do with anything. After that, the doctors had gone back over his records with a microscope, finding a reference to his being tortured after being captured on a mission two years prior. He'd seemed fine after being rescued, but that had evidently been the beginning of his psychological deterioration.
She was also, they had been told, trained in several different styles of martial arts, and with a variety of weapons. Supposedly, all she needed to do was read a book about something, or study it in detail, and she would be able to do that job or task flawlessly.
For obvious reasons, she hadn't exactly had a chance to demonstrate that ability while in their care.
Dr. Ryan smiled as she opened the door to the girl's room. "Good morning, Sam."
"Good morning." The reply was soft and dreamy, which was about the best they were able to get from her most days.
"How are you feeling today?" Dr. Ryan pressed on, undaunted.
An eloquent shrug.
"Well," Dr. Ryan began, but Sam cut her off.
"Can you hear them?"
She frowned. "Hear who?"
"They've come for me. Want me to go with them." Sam had been focusing on the modeling clay that she'd been working on since she'd woken up an hour ago, but now swung her gaze up to meet Dr. Ryan's. The force of her gaze came as a shock, though the too-wide eyes told her that Sam was firmly in the grip of her own madness.
She fought down a sigh. "Sam, we've talked about this. You know that this 'Centre' isn't going to be-"
She was abruptly cut off as something slammed into her back.
Sam was crazy. That did not, however, mean she was wrong.
Dr. Ryan stared at the blade sticking out of her chest in shock, making a few weak gurgling, gasping sounds before her legs gave way. Someone caught her from behind, gently lowering her to the ground so as to not attract attention. They made sure she was out of sight of anyone who looked in through the door's small window, then turned to Sam.
Sam rose and studied them carefully. "You're not her," she finally said, sounding disappointed. Dr. Ryan, bleeding freely and unable to get any oxygen after the blade had been removed, stared at her, barely registering what was going on.
One of the ones at the door replied, "No. But she wants you to come with us."
Sam considered this. "Okay."
Dr. Ryan continued staring straight ahead long after they were gone. But by then, her lifeless eyes didn't see a single thing.
**********************************************
"We've got a mission," Raquel announced as she collected Monica from her last class of the day, Advanced Cryptography. She'd already told Kathleen and Bethany about it; Monica was her last stop.
"Oh? And what would that be, then?" Monica asked, curious. This would be their first official mission of the year, so she couldn't help but wonder what their superiors had in store for them.
"Do you remember that loser we busted in the wannabe Iron Man suit, middle of last year?" At Monica's nod, she continued, "Well, he's at it again. This time, he's even managed to round up a few flunkies for support."
"They have suits, too?" Monica asked as they walked toward the exit.
"From what I'm told, no," Raquel said as they were joined by Kathleen and Bethany. The former moved to Monica's side instantly.
"Well, this ought to be fun," Bethany remarked brightly.
Raquel felt a flicker of uncertainty as to the wisdom of bringing her along, but dismissed it. She was sure that all they had to do was get back in the swing of things, and everything would get back to normal.
Privately, she just hoped this wasn't a huge mistake.
The loser in question, one Ronald Burke, had decided to rob the Los Angeles branch of the Federal Reserve Bank of San Francisco. It seemed to be a popular target for thieves, especially the more high tech - and, one might say, 'whacked out' - ones. It was also where they'd arrested him last time, so he clearly didn't know how to take a hint.
They'd developed something of a standard procedure for situations like this, which was a sad commentary on how often they sprang up. Bethany made her way up to the roof of the bank, while Kathleen took up a sniper's position on top of the building across the street, and Raquel and Monica took the ground floor. Monica lingered near the door, guarding it, while Raquel made her way inside.
They didn't have quite enough people to cover every possible entrance or exit, but fortunately the local police were on hand in force, and they were taking care of that while one of their officers attempted to negotiate with Burke.
The DEBS had told them that wouldn't work, but they felt it was worth a shot. And since no one would object to the possibility of a bloodless way of ending the situation, there were no objections. And even if it didn't work, it would provide just the distraction Raquel needed.
Burke's thugs could be largely left to the cops. Not that the DEBS would ignore them if they had the chance to round any of them up, but Burke and his overgrown tin can were their main concern, and the reason they'd been called in the first place.
After quietly disabling one of his guards, she whispered into her comm, "I'm in."
"Copy that, Boss," Kathleen's voice responded. Bethany and Monica acknowledged her a second later.
As silently as possible, Raquel crept down the corridor, stopping just short of the main lobby. Very carefully, she peeked around the corner.
And came dangerously close to bursting into outright laughter.
This suit was even more ridiculous then the last. It followed the form of Burke's body, if not all the details. The helmet, however, curved up, then down and back, making it look like someone with a pompadour haircut wearing a baseball cap backwards. A thin visor, tinted opaque, covered his eyes, possibly providing him a Heads-Up Display, though she was doubtful that he was able to pick up anything useful in that suit to actually display on it. A shark's grin had been somewhat sloppily painted over where his mouth would be, and she couldn't look at it without fighting down a giggle. The right arm had a cylinder running down the forearm, ending at the knuckles. His last armor had been equipped with a not terribly impressive laser beam, and she suspected this was where the new and theoretically improved version of it was kept.
"You have to let these people go," a man in a suit said calmly as he stood in front of Burke's suit. Judging by his words, tone, and his ability to refrain from laughter while looking at said suit from that close up, she knew he had to be the police negotiator.
"I must do nothing!" Burke countered in the same melodramatic - and mechanically filtered - voice that she remembered from the previous model. "You will give me all the money in the vault, and clear a path for us to exit. This, I command!"
She tried not to laugh at that. She truly did. She just... didn't quite succeed.
Burke swiveled his head around to face the unexpected noise - a lengthy process, accompanied by the whirr of servomotors, which told her that he hadn't quite worked the bugs out of version 2.0, either. She helped him out by moving where he could see her, and aiming her gun - loaded with armor-piercing bullets - right at him. "You again!"
"Me," she agreed insouciantly. "Have your henchmen put their guns down and hold still so we can start the process of getting you out of that thing." She shook her head. "Knew I should have brought a can opener," she mused.
"You would have me surrender, when it is you who are so badly outnumbered?" He laughed dismissively, only to stop when he noticed his henchmen not joining in.
It wasn't that they were trying to piss off their boss, they were simply too distracted by the red dots that kept appearing all over them.
The cops, Burke discovered, had followed Raquel's lead, sneaking in the back and side doors and taking up positions where they could cover all five of them.
Burke took it well.
"No! No, no, NO, NO!" he shouted petulantly, and Raquel half-expected him to actually stomp his foot in consternation. "You're not taking me in again!" With another whirr, the right arm lifted. "Die!"
Another laugh bubbled up, and she dodged the expected ray blast, barely even needing to try and evade such a telegraphed attack. The crimson beam left a small burn on the wall behind her.
If he had upgraded his weaponry, it wasn't to any noticeable degree.
Still, though, she couldn't just stand there and let him hurt any of the cops who were firing ineffectively at him. She fired back, and the bullet lodged in his armor at the right hip joint, sparks erupting from the impact point. He staggered a little and paused, likely considering how many shots it would take her to hit something vital to the suit. She was considering the same, trying to remember where any weak spots they'd identified on his previous suit after they'd impounded it as evidence. Admittedly, he was sure to have addressed them this time around, but there was only so much he could change as long as the technology remained largely the same.
Burke seemed to come to a decision. He turned toward the main doors, and the roar of miniature jet engines sounded as he launched himself into the air, heading right for them.
"Banshee, he's heading your way!" she called, getting briefly drawn into the disarming of the thugs.
"Copy that!" Monica called, dodging to the side as Burke exploded through the glass doors and maneuvered himself up into the sky. Almost immediately, gunshots rang out, and bullets began smacking into his armor, sending up fresh bursts of sparks. She raised her gun and took aim, but before she could fire, Bethany's voice drew her attention. "We've got this, Banshee, eyes on your own fight!" she snapped, sounding irritated.
Momentarily confused, Monica soon realized that Burke, while clearly not the brightest bulb in the box, wasn't a complete idiot, either. Aware of his suit's lack of response time, he'd stationed a few extra thugs around the outside of the bank. And while the cops were keeping the crowd back, she was still glad they attacked her physically, rather then pulling their own guns. She didn't want anyone to be hit by stray fire. She lost track of the fight above as she ducked a swing, then swept the guy's feet out from under him.
She could still hear her teammates over the comm, though, and she didn't like what she was hearing. "Come on, Webb. I thought you were supposed to be some kind of badass sniper."
"Well, guess I know how you got your codename now, don't I, Rulebreaker?"
"Oh, please. If you weren't so busy keeping an eye on your girlfriend, this would have been over by now."
Kathleen's voice grew heated. "Don't you dare bring her into this!"
"Fine, then. I'll just have to take care of this myself."
The cops hadn't exactly been sitting idle while Monica duked it out with the thugs, and they had been taken into custody swiftly. Thus freed from distractions, Monica was able to observe the battle overhead. The crunch of glass behind her alerted her to Raquel's presence. "Why don't I like the sound of that?" Monica asked.
She quickly got an answer, but not from Raquel. Burke had zeroed in on Bethany and drifted closer to get a better shot. She took him - and everyone else - by surprise when she ran forward and leapt from the edge of the roof, right at him. Unable to get out of the way in the slow-moving suit, Burke could only watch in surprise as she slammed into him, clinging tightly.
"What are you doing?! I don't have a clear shot, now!"
"I told you, I'm taking care of this," Bethany replied, followed by the sound of scrabbling on metal, and Burke ordering her to stop whatever it was she was doing.
"What is going on up there?" Raquel demanded.
"It looks like she's cutting into his exoskeleton with some kind of pocket torch," Kathleen reported.
"It's where the relays are," Bethany added. "Give me a minute, I can shut him down."
Raquel had to reluctantly concede that Bethany's plan - so to speak - might not be totally idiotic, but still...
Burke was spinning about, frantically trying to unseat Bethany. His arms couldn't quite seem to move far enough or fast enough to get a hold of her, however, so she kept working.
And then the suit's laser beam began firing, seemingly at random.
"Is that him or you?" Raquel barked as a cop barely dodged the beam.
"Umm..."
People ducked and dodged every which way, Burke's spinning and tilting resulting in what would have been fairly effective cover fire for an escape, had he been doing it deliberately.
Monica screamed and staggered back, clutching her left arm as she collapsed against the bank's outer wall.
"Monica!" It was a wonder Raquel couldn't hear Kathleen's shout without her comm.
"What was that about not using real names during a mission?"
"You hit Banshee," Raquel snapped.
"It's not like that was deliberate."
There was another scream from somewhere in the scattering crowd of cops, and Raquel's patience reached its limit. She walked forward into the street, picked up a discarded rifle, and stared up at the tiny forms of Bethany and Burke. She sighted through the scope on the rifle, ignoring the beam that scorched the pavement several inches away from her foot. She just needed them to turn a little more...
There! She coolly fired a shell right up into the cylinder that housed the ray beam, which exploded in an altogether satisfying manner.
"Thank you," Bethany told her. "That thing was really annoying."
"Just get down here," Raquel countered, and it wasn't in her happy voice.
"Working on that now." There was a pause, then even without the comms they could hear Burke's over-the-top "NOOOOOOOO!" Bethany chuckled. "And here I didn't think people actually talked like that," she remarked as she gained control of his systems, and began lowering the two of them to the street. Kathleen, seeing the situation was under control, hurried downstairs. They got to ground level at about the same time, Kathleen hurrying to Monica's side, while Bethany climbed down off of the suit, severing a final connection to make sure that Burke wouldn't be pulling any surprise escapes. "He's all yours, boys," she told the cops, heading toward her team.
Raquel intercepted her halfway. "What the hell was that?"
"What was what?" she asked, sounding genuinely confused.
"Arguing with your teammates during a mission? Actually taunting and distracting them? That stunt you pulled was even more reckless then usual, and if you'd aimed a little higher you could have killed Monica!"
"I told you that wasn't intentional," Bethany retorted defensively.
"And you don't even seem to recognize that you did anything wrong!" Raquel shook her head. "You told me you could handle it. You said everything was under control!" She'd returned the rifle to the cops, and currently had her own gun out. It was aimed at the ground, of course, but the way it was quivering in her grasp suggested that was a near thing.
Raquel would never shoot her, Bethany knew that. But she could also tell there was a part that wanted to, badly, and that, more then anything else, was enough to sober her up.
"I think..." she began quietly, then hesitated, working up to admitting what she hated to. Kathleen and Monica had joined them by then. A spot on Monica's left forearm bandaged, but otherwise she seemed all right. Raquel bit back the comment she wanted to make, sensing that Bethany might just finally be ready to open up. "I think I need to talk to Sydney."
"I'm glad you agree," Raquel said levelly. "Because after this, I have no choice but to suspend you from active duty, pending a full review."
Monica's eyes widened. "Are ye sure that's-"
"It is," Bethany said, cutting her off. "And I am so sorry. I swear, I would never meant to hit you - or anyone."
"I know," Monica replied, smiling. It was a bit tight, due to the pain of her injury, but it was warm and real.
"Let's go home," Raquel announced, and Monica headed for the car, Bethany shadowing her every step to make sure she got there all right. Raquel held Kathleen back a bit, until the others were out of earshot. "You know," she began quietly, "while it was much more flagrant on her part, Bethany isn't the only one that deviated from protocol back there."
Kathleen sighed. "I know, I know. I just..."
"You were worried about Monica." Raquel nodded. "I hate to admit it, but she wasn't entirely wrong when she accused you of being distracted by what was happening to Monica down on the street. Was she?"
She winced. "I..."
"I haven't said anything before, because it isn't against any rules for two DEBS to be involved, and you've managed to avoid being distracted by each other to a degree that put your teammates in danger." Mostly, she thought, remembering Japan. "But she was right, you should have been able to disable that thing in a third of the time it took, and he should not have gotten close enough to Bethany for her to pull that stupid stunt of hers off. I'm not going to formally reprimand you, but as you can see, I've got enough to worry about with Bethany. I don't need any other problems. All right?"
"Fair enough," Kathleen answered. And it was, really. She had been distracted by Monica, and she knew it. Although... "I don't want to sound like I'm making excuses, but I was more worried then usual because of, well, how unbalanced Bethany seemed."
"I don't doubt it."
**********************************************
"Amy! There you are!"
Amy had to smile at the enthusiastic greeting. "Janet, it hasn't even been an entire day since you say me last," she said, which did absolutely nothing to head off the bone crushing hug.
Not that she'd really expected it to.
"Yeah, but I barely got to see you then," Janet countered as she let go, allowing Amy to breathe unencumbered again. "Besides, I've been looking for you all day."
"Well, lucky thing you caught me before we headed back home, then," Amy said. Janet, she noted, wasn't smiling. That was never a good sign. "What's wrong?"
"We got a report from the Oceanside Wellness Center this morning," Janet began, and Amy felt a sick lurch in her stomach. "Sam's gone."
"She ran away?" That would be bad, all right, but somehow she doubted she was lucky enough for that to be the case.
She was right. "Someone broke in and extracted her," Janet told her. "Her primary doctor was killed and left in her room. She was stabbed with some kind of blade from behind. It went right through her in a single thrust, breaking one of her ribs in the process."
A blow like that required a fair amount of force behind it, she knew. It wasn't at all subtle, but if done right it could be as quiet as slitting someone's throat.
She'd done both enough times to know.
"Do we have any idea who took her?" An unbalanced pretender in hostile hands... That was very, very bad.
"No more then we do whose behind the thefts," Janet replied, sounding disgusted. "No prints, no sign of forced entry, nothing on the security cameras - and I mean nothing, like they hadn't been on - and none of the other security measures caught anyone where they shouldn't have been."
Amy had gone still at the mention of the thefts, the mysterious Something that had been bothering her for days growing louder and more distracting. "Let me know if that changes," she murmured, wandering off without even saying goodbye.
Even as she went, she was aware of Janet staring after her in confusion.
It didn't take long to meet up with Lucy - the DEBS computer center was only so big, after all - and Lucy only had to take one look at her to know something was wrong. Fortunately, she also knew better then to ask about it where they could be overheard, so she waited until they'd gotten home before asking, "What is it?"
"Someone took Sam." At Lucy's uncomprehending gaze, she added, "Sam Heaton? The pretender recovered in Japan?"
"Oh, right! Her. Why- No, stupid question. How-"
"How did they get her out of there? We don't know. How did they find out about her in the first place? We don't know that, either."
"And...?"
"And... I don't know. Something's just..."
"Ah." Lucy had been right there with her for the past few days while whatever it was in the back of her mind refused to come out into the light where she could get a good look at it. "Maybe if you stop thinking about it, it'll come to you. How about a distraction?"
Standing near the couch, Amy turned to look at her, an eyebrow raised.
Two hours later, they finally finished getting dressed again. "That wasn't exactly the kind of distraction I'd meant," Lucy said. "Not that I'm at all complaining, mind you."
"I should hope not," Amy replied with a smile. "What were you thinking, then?" She could have guessed, using her knowledge of how Lucy thought, but she thought it was more polite to let Lucy tell her herself.
"How 'bout a movie?" Lucy suggested.
"Fine by me," Amy said, shrugging. She stood up, wavered for a second as her blood resumed its usual course, then moved to the entertainment center, opening the cabinet that held their DVDs. Or some of them, at least. "Not really in the mood for a chick flick," she mused as she skimmed over the top two rows. "Definitely don't feel like horror." She paused at one DVD, then withdrew it and held it up for Lucy to see, her eyebrows raised in silent inquiry.
Lucy looked at it, then laughed. "Oh, that one. I think that's Scud's, actually. Remind me later to let him know we've got it."
"Uh-huh," Amy said, not lowering it.
Realizing what she was waiting for, Lucy laughed again. "I can't really explain it, sorry. Not any better then the back of the box can, at any rate. We could watch it and you could see for yourself what it's about."
"Maybe another time," Amy decided, putting it back. While it didn't look like a typical vampire movie, that wasn't quite what she was in the mood for, either.
Although a movie called Jesus Christ Vampire Hunter certainly did sound... interesting.
She blinked at the next few boxes. "You have the Bond series?"
"What, I can't like Bond films?" Lucy defended.
"Well, you do realize that the good guys always win in these, right?" She paused. "You watched them for the women, didn't you?"
"Umm..."
Amy grinned. "Hey, if it helps, you're totally my Bond girl."
Lucy considered that, then laughed. "I suppose I am, aren't I?"
"Exactly." She plucked one DVD from among the others, snorting. "Now, why am I not surprised you have this one?"
Lucy rose and walked over to join her. "Heh. Come on, how could I have resisted?" she asked, gesturing to where the cover proudly proclaimed Diamonds Are Forever. She gave Amy a quick kiss, then headed for the kitchen. "Want some popcorn?"
Silence.
She paused at the door. "Amy?"
There was a quiet thud from the other room, and she rushed back to find that Amy had dropped down to her knees, and was staring down at the DVD case, not looking like she was actually seeing it. She'd gone sheet white, and the plastic case was actually shaking in her hands.
She was crouched down by her girlfriend's side in an instant. "Amy, what is it?"
"Oh, God..." The words were barely above a whisper.
"Amy!"
Amy started, but shook herself back to reality enough to answer. "I, ah... I know what they're building."
"What who is... Oh." The thefts. She looked down at the box, skimming over the brief description of the movie.
Stopping at the words 'deadly laser satellite'. "That?"
"Prometheus," Amy whispered.
"What are you talking about?"
"It's... not really a laser. Not exactly. It takes the power of the sun and... and focuses it into a coherent beam, that..."
"I get the idea." Lucy grimaced. "How do you know that's what they're making?"
"I recognize the parts needed."
Not sure she wanted to know, Lucy none the less asked, "Um, how?"
Amy looked sick. "Because I designed it."
Well, it wasn't quite as late as the last story I updated, right?
Navi Rawat as Samantha "Sam" Heaton
Next time - Centre-flashbacks, and Amy visits Miss Parker in jail.
Title: Prometheus Unbound (3/28)
Author: That'd be me. *grins* Andrew, Obsidian, call me what you want. But only if it's nice. ;)
Rating: R (C'mon, it's a sequel to Pantheon. What did you expect? ;) )
Comments: At long last, it's finally here. ^_^ Hopefully you'll like this one as much as you did Pantheon, if not more so. Now, there is going to be a third fandom included this time around, but, as before, I'm not telling you what it is, yet. You'll find out soon enough, don't worry.
Legal Disclaimer: I do not own 'D.E.B.S.', as I am not Angela Robinson. I also don't own 'The Pretender' (which was created by Steven Long Mitchell and Craig W. Van Sickle). Nor do I own , as I am not, nor do I work for, Universal Studios. (Yes, an actual clue! *lol*)
Chapter Three
It was amazing how much simply resuming a normal sleep schedule improved her mood.
Raquel had perked up enough to actually whip up a full breakfast for her team on their first day of classes, as something of a peace offering. Bethany, true to her word, had been refraining from going out to get drunk and partying. Not to say that she didn't see any other guys, but at least now she wasn't waking anyone up doing it, which was about the best anyone could ask of her.
Things still weren't quite back to normal, though. Denied her usual method of coping with the negative feelings roiling through her body, Bethany was at times tense and irritable. Monica tended to try and make her feel better, unwittingly presenting herself as a target of convenience. Quite naturally, Kathleen did not appreciate this, and Raquel learned to step in quickly to cut off any arguments before they got too serious - or loud.
That didn't happen too often, thank goodness. Fortunately, their classes were providing an excellent distraction from personal problems. And the one time Bethany had looked like she was going to fall back into old habits, all Raquel had needed to do was hold up an electric razor and switch it on for a few seconds before Bethany had taken the hint.
So, all in all, she supposed things were about as good as they were likely to get, unless Bethany actually went to counseling like she should have. And the sound dampener had even been installed around Monica and Kathleen's room, allowing everyone else to sleep peacefully through the night.
She just wished - uselessly - that she didn't have to do so alone. Her bed had felt so lonely, lately.
If by lately, one meant three months.
She simply didn't understand how someone she'd known for a matter of days could affect her so, and hadn't really had much time to think about it.
Nor did she now. Between playing peacemaker among her teammates and making sure they all got to class on time, she felt like she'd been transported back in time to grade school. It was rather distracting.
By Thursday, she was already getting irritated by it. The only consolation was that she wasn't acting in place of people who should have been doing all that. This time it really was her job. Sort of.
"So, today's our first 'Capes and Capers' class," Kathleen said as she took a bite of her waffles and tried not to grimace. Bethany had taken a wild stab at making waffles from scratch, and they hadn't come out quite right. (Those at the table with actual culinary experience suspected she'd accidentally forgotten to include an ingredient or two, but refrained from embarrassing her by openly pointing it out.) Butter and syrup had been applied rather liberally by all. "I have to admit, I'm excited. This is supposed to be a great class."
"And hey," Bethany added with a smile, "if we get stuck trying to figure something out, we have a criminal mastermind of our own we can ask."
"If she's around at the time," Monica pointed out.
Irritation flickered over Bethany's face. "Yes, obviously if she's around."
"Given that most assignments aren't due for a week or two, chances are that she will be at some point," Raquel interjected without looking at either of them.
Bethany noticed, and made an effort to calm down before she could get too worked up. "This sort of thing must be all kinds of nostalgic for you, huh?" she asked Raquel sympathetically.
"I am the eldest of five," Raquel agreed with a tired smile. "I've had to settle my share of disagreements." More then her share, really.
Much, much more.
"Why do I keep thinking you only have three siblings?" Kathleen wondered aloud.
Raquel sighed. "I don't talk about Lee - Carolyna - all that much," she admitted.
"She's the second eldest of you, right?" Bethany asked hesitantly. After rooming with Raquel for years, she knew more then the others about the mysterious sibling, but even that didn't amount to much.
"Yeah. Only about nine months, give or take a few days. She was a grade below me in school. We were... really close, growing up. She did try to help me out with the others when she could, but... Well, she had some... disagreements, with our parents. More so with out father."
"That seems to happen a lot in your house," Monica observed.
Raquel smiled mirthlessly. "You could say. Anyway, she wanted to be a singer. Papi did not approve. They argued about it. A lot. She settled things by leaving home and pursuing a career on her own. That was three years ago, and we haven't heard anything from her since. Of course, Papi wasn't happy when she left, and guess who bore the brunt of that?"
"Your sister hasn't gotten in touch with you in three years?" Bethany asked, incredulous. "I may be the only one here without any brothers or sisters, and even I know that's just not cool."
"Is she okay?" Monica asked, concerned. "I mean, if you haven't heard anything about her in three years..."
"I didn't say we hadn't heard anything about her," Raquel corrected. "I just she hadn't called. Or written. Or emailed. Or acknowledged the existence of her family in any noticeable way." She rose from the table and headed into the living room, then up the stairs. Her teammates sat there in confusion for several long moments before she returned, carrying a CD case that she tossed to Monica before sitting back down.
Monica looked at it. "Dawn Triunfar. I remember her from American Idol a few years back. Didn't think you liked her much."
"And now you know why."
Even with that, it still took a few seconds for Monica to get it. "Wait. W-wait. Are you saying she's your sister?!"
"I can only assume that her chosen last name is to rub it in to Papi. 'Triunfar' translates as 'to triumph over'."
Nobody knew quite what to say to that. "Um... damn," Kathleen finally managed.
"Yeah. Now hurry up and eat your breakfast, so we can get to class on time," Raquel said, clearly finished with the conversation.
No one argued.
**********************************************
The Oceanside Wellness Center in southern Oregon was actually located about twenty-three miles away from the coast. It was also far away from any houses or stores, built in a wooded area that, for some reason, no one else wanted to expand into.
For some odd reason, no one really wanted to be next door to the thinly disguised mental hospital.
That was just fine with the staff. As far as they were concerned, it meant fewer distractions for their patients. Not that said patients were allowed outside without plenty of supervision - including one or two armed guards - but the less the healing atmosphere of the place was compromised, the better they liked it. Sure, this meant a longer drive to and from work each day, but they could afford it.
What most of the inhabitants of the nearby town didn't know was that the OWC was actually a government run facility, for the care of those who were mentally ill or unstable, while being in possession of extremely sensitive information.
Or, as in the case of one patient in particular, who were simply too dangerous to place anywhere else.
Dr. Leslie Ryan always started the day by checking in on patient #02-154, Samantha Heaton. Samantha - or Sam, as she preferred to be called - was something of a special girl. Committed to their care by the DEBS roughly three months ago, Sam had a fascinating ability - on the rare occasions she was coherent enough to use it - to get inside anyone's head, and figure out what they might be thinking or planning. She'd even accidentally provided a vital clue to the treatment of another patient when she began mimicking him, then stopped and wondered in confusion what needles had to do with anything. After that, the doctors had gone back over his records with a microscope, finding a reference to his being tortured after being captured on a mission two years prior. He'd seemed fine after being rescued, but that had evidently been the beginning of his psychological deterioration.
She was also, they had been told, trained in several different styles of martial arts, and with a variety of weapons. Supposedly, all she needed to do was read a book about something, or study it in detail, and she would be able to do that job or task flawlessly.
For obvious reasons, she hadn't exactly had a chance to demonstrate that ability while in their care.
Dr. Ryan smiled as she opened the door to the girl's room. "Good morning, Sam."
"Good morning." The reply was soft and dreamy, which was about the best they were able to get from her most days.
"How are you feeling today?" Dr. Ryan pressed on, undaunted.
An eloquent shrug.
"Well," Dr. Ryan began, but Sam cut her off.
"Can you hear them?"
She frowned. "Hear who?"
"They've come for me. Want me to go with them." Sam had been focusing on the modeling clay that she'd been working on since she'd woken up an hour ago, but now swung her gaze up to meet Dr. Ryan's. The force of her gaze came as a shock, though the too-wide eyes told her that Sam was firmly in the grip of her own madness.
She fought down a sigh. "Sam, we've talked about this. You know that this 'Centre' isn't going to be-"
She was abruptly cut off as something slammed into her back.
Sam was crazy. That did not, however, mean she was wrong.
Dr. Ryan stared at the blade sticking out of her chest in shock, making a few weak gurgling, gasping sounds before her legs gave way. Someone caught her from behind, gently lowering her to the ground so as to not attract attention. They made sure she was out of sight of anyone who looked in through the door's small window, then turned to Sam.
Sam rose and studied them carefully. "You're not her," she finally said, sounding disappointed. Dr. Ryan, bleeding freely and unable to get any oxygen after the blade had been removed, stared at her, barely registering what was going on.
One of the ones at the door replied, "No. But she wants you to come with us."
Sam considered this. "Okay."
Dr. Ryan continued staring straight ahead long after they were gone. But by then, her lifeless eyes didn't see a single thing.
**********************************************
"We've got a mission," Raquel announced as she collected Monica from her last class of the day, Advanced Cryptography. She'd already told Kathleen and Bethany about it; Monica was her last stop.
"Oh? And what would that be, then?" Monica asked, curious. This would be their first official mission of the year, so she couldn't help but wonder what their superiors had in store for them.
"Do you remember that loser we busted in the wannabe Iron Man suit, middle of last year?" At Monica's nod, she continued, "Well, he's at it again. This time, he's even managed to round up a few flunkies for support."
"They have suits, too?" Monica asked as they walked toward the exit.
"From what I'm told, no," Raquel said as they were joined by Kathleen and Bethany. The former moved to Monica's side instantly.
"Well, this ought to be fun," Bethany remarked brightly.
Raquel felt a flicker of uncertainty as to the wisdom of bringing her along, but dismissed it. She was sure that all they had to do was get back in the swing of things, and everything would get back to normal.
Privately, she just hoped this wasn't a huge mistake.
The loser in question, one Ronald Burke, had decided to rob the Los Angeles branch of the Federal Reserve Bank of San Francisco. It seemed to be a popular target for thieves, especially the more high tech - and, one might say, 'whacked out' - ones. It was also where they'd arrested him last time, so he clearly didn't know how to take a hint.
They'd developed something of a standard procedure for situations like this, which was a sad commentary on how often they sprang up. Bethany made her way up to the roof of the bank, while Kathleen took up a sniper's position on top of the building across the street, and Raquel and Monica took the ground floor. Monica lingered near the door, guarding it, while Raquel made her way inside.
They didn't have quite enough people to cover every possible entrance or exit, but fortunately the local police were on hand in force, and they were taking care of that while one of their officers attempted to negotiate with Burke.
The DEBS had told them that wouldn't work, but they felt it was worth a shot. And since no one would object to the possibility of a bloodless way of ending the situation, there were no objections. And even if it didn't work, it would provide just the distraction Raquel needed.
Burke's thugs could be largely left to the cops. Not that the DEBS would ignore them if they had the chance to round any of them up, but Burke and his overgrown tin can were their main concern, and the reason they'd been called in the first place.
After quietly disabling one of his guards, she whispered into her comm, "I'm in."
"Copy that, Boss," Kathleen's voice responded. Bethany and Monica acknowledged her a second later.
As silently as possible, Raquel crept down the corridor, stopping just short of the main lobby. Very carefully, she peeked around the corner.
And came dangerously close to bursting into outright laughter.
This suit was even more ridiculous then the last. It followed the form of Burke's body, if not all the details. The helmet, however, curved up, then down and back, making it look like someone with a pompadour haircut wearing a baseball cap backwards. A thin visor, tinted opaque, covered his eyes, possibly providing him a Heads-Up Display, though she was doubtful that he was able to pick up anything useful in that suit to actually display on it. A shark's grin had been somewhat sloppily painted over where his mouth would be, and she couldn't look at it without fighting down a giggle. The right arm had a cylinder running down the forearm, ending at the knuckles. His last armor had been equipped with a not terribly impressive laser beam, and she suspected this was where the new and theoretically improved version of it was kept.
"You have to let these people go," a man in a suit said calmly as he stood in front of Burke's suit. Judging by his words, tone, and his ability to refrain from laughter while looking at said suit from that close up, she knew he had to be the police negotiator.
"I must do nothing!" Burke countered in the same melodramatic - and mechanically filtered - voice that she remembered from the previous model. "You will give me all the money in the vault, and clear a path for us to exit. This, I command!"
She tried not to laugh at that. She truly did. She just... didn't quite succeed.
Burke swiveled his head around to face the unexpected noise - a lengthy process, accompanied by the whirr of servomotors, which told her that he hadn't quite worked the bugs out of version 2.0, either. She helped him out by moving where he could see her, and aiming her gun - loaded with armor-piercing bullets - right at him. "You again!"
"Me," she agreed insouciantly. "Have your henchmen put their guns down and hold still so we can start the process of getting you out of that thing." She shook her head. "Knew I should have brought a can opener," she mused.
"You would have me surrender, when it is you who are so badly outnumbered?" He laughed dismissively, only to stop when he noticed his henchmen not joining in.
It wasn't that they were trying to piss off their boss, they were simply too distracted by the red dots that kept appearing all over them.
The cops, Burke discovered, had followed Raquel's lead, sneaking in the back and side doors and taking up positions where they could cover all five of them.
Burke took it well.
"No! No, no, NO, NO!" he shouted petulantly, and Raquel half-expected him to actually stomp his foot in consternation. "You're not taking me in again!" With another whirr, the right arm lifted. "Die!"
Another laugh bubbled up, and she dodged the expected ray blast, barely even needing to try and evade such a telegraphed attack. The crimson beam left a small burn on the wall behind her.
If he had upgraded his weaponry, it wasn't to any noticeable degree.
Still, though, she couldn't just stand there and let him hurt any of the cops who were firing ineffectively at him. She fired back, and the bullet lodged in his armor at the right hip joint, sparks erupting from the impact point. He staggered a little and paused, likely considering how many shots it would take her to hit something vital to the suit. She was considering the same, trying to remember where any weak spots they'd identified on his previous suit after they'd impounded it as evidence. Admittedly, he was sure to have addressed them this time around, but there was only so much he could change as long as the technology remained largely the same.
Burke seemed to come to a decision. He turned toward the main doors, and the roar of miniature jet engines sounded as he launched himself into the air, heading right for them.
"Banshee, he's heading your way!" she called, getting briefly drawn into the disarming of the thugs.
"Copy that!" Monica called, dodging to the side as Burke exploded through the glass doors and maneuvered himself up into the sky. Almost immediately, gunshots rang out, and bullets began smacking into his armor, sending up fresh bursts of sparks. She raised her gun and took aim, but before she could fire, Bethany's voice drew her attention. "We've got this, Banshee, eyes on your own fight!" she snapped, sounding irritated.
Momentarily confused, Monica soon realized that Burke, while clearly not the brightest bulb in the box, wasn't a complete idiot, either. Aware of his suit's lack of response time, he'd stationed a few extra thugs around the outside of the bank. And while the cops were keeping the crowd back, she was still glad they attacked her physically, rather then pulling their own guns. She didn't want anyone to be hit by stray fire. She lost track of the fight above as she ducked a swing, then swept the guy's feet out from under him.
She could still hear her teammates over the comm, though, and she didn't like what she was hearing. "Come on, Webb. I thought you were supposed to be some kind of badass sniper."
"Well, guess I know how you got your codename now, don't I, Rulebreaker?"
"Oh, please. If you weren't so busy keeping an eye on your girlfriend, this would have been over by now."
Kathleen's voice grew heated. "Don't you dare bring her into this!"
"Fine, then. I'll just have to take care of this myself."
The cops hadn't exactly been sitting idle while Monica duked it out with the thugs, and they had been taken into custody swiftly. Thus freed from distractions, Monica was able to observe the battle overhead. The crunch of glass behind her alerted her to Raquel's presence. "Why don't I like the sound of that?" Monica asked.
She quickly got an answer, but not from Raquel. Burke had zeroed in on Bethany and drifted closer to get a better shot. She took him - and everyone else - by surprise when she ran forward and leapt from the edge of the roof, right at him. Unable to get out of the way in the slow-moving suit, Burke could only watch in surprise as she slammed into him, clinging tightly.
"What are you doing?! I don't have a clear shot, now!"
"I told you, I'm taking care of this," Bethany replied, followed by the sound of scrabbling on metal, and Burke ordering her to stop whatever it was she was doing.
"What is going on up there?" Raquel demanded.
"It looks like she's cutting into his exoskeleton with some kind of pocket torch," Kathleen reported.
"It's where the relays are," Bethany added. "Give me a minute, I can shut him down."
Raquel had to reluctantly concede that Bethany's plan - so to speak - might not be totally idiotic, but still...
Burke was spinning about, frantically trying to unseat Bethany. His arms couldn't quite seem to move far enough or fast enough to get a hold of her, however, so she kept working.
And then the suit's laser beam began firing, seemingly at random.
"Is that him or you?" Raquel barked as a cop barely dodged the beam.
"Umm..."
People ducked and dodged every which way, Burke's spinning and tilting resulting in what would have been fairly effective cover fire for an escape, had he been doing it deliberately.
Monica screamed and staggered back, clutching her left arm as she collapsed against the bank's outer wall.
"Monica!" It was a wonder Raquel couldn't hear Kathleen's shout without her comm.
"What was that about not using real names during a mission?"
"You hit Banshee," Raquel snapped.
"It's not like that was deliberate."
There was another scream from somewhere in the scattering crowd of cops, and Raquel's patience reached its limit. She walked forward into the street, picked up a discarded rifle, and stared up at the tiny forms of Bethany and Burke. She sighted through the scope on the rifle, ignoring the beam that scorched the pavement several inches away from her foot. She just needed them to turn a little more...
There! She coolly fired a shell right up into the cylinder that housed the ray beam, which exploded in an altogether satisfying manner.
"Thank you," Bethany told her. "That thing was really annoying."
"Just get down here," Raquel countered, and it wasn't in her happy voice.
"Working on that now." There was a pause, then even without the comms they could hear Burke's over-the-top "NOOOOOOOO!" Bethany chuckled. "And here I didn't think people actually talked like that," she remarked as she gained control of his systems, and began lowering the two of them to the street. Kathleen, seeing the situation was under control, hurried downstairs. They got to ground level at about the same time, Kathleen hurrying to Monica's side, while Bethany climbed down off of the suit, severing a final connection to make sure that Burke wouldn't be pulling any surprise escapes. "He's all yours, boys," she told the cops, heading toward her team.
Raquel intercepted her halfway. "What the hell was that?"
"What was what?" she asked, sounding genuinely confused.
"Arguing with your teammates during a mission? Actually taunting and distracting them? That stunt you pulled was even more reckless then usual, and if you'd aimed a little higher you could have killed Monica!"
"I told you that wasn't intentional," Bethany retorted defensively.
"And you don't even seem to recognize that you did anything wrong!" Raquel shook her head. "You told me you could handle it. You said everything was under control!" She'd returned the rifle to the cops, and currently had her own gun out. It was aimed at the ground, of course, but the way it was quivering in her grasp suggested that was a near thing.
Raquel would never shoot her, Bethany knew that. But she could also tell there was a part that wanted to, badly, and that, more then anything else, was enough to sober her up.
"I think..." she began quietly, then hesitated, working up to admitting what she hated to. Kathleen and Monica had joined them by then. A spot on Monica's left forearm bandaged, but otherwise she seemed all right. Raquel bit back the comment she wanted to make, sensing that Bethany might just finally be ready to open up. "I think I need to talk to Sydney."
"I'm glad you agree," Raquel said levelly. "Because after this, I have no choice but to suspend you from active duty, pending a full review."
Monica's eyes widened. "Are ye sure that's-"
"It is," Bethany said, cutting her off. "And I am so sorry. I swear, I would never meant to hit you - or anyone."
"I know," Monica replied, smiling. It was a bit tight, due to the pain of her injury, but it was warm and real.
"Let's go home," Raquel announced, and Monica headed for the car, Bethany shadowing her every step to make sure she got there all right. Raquel held Kathleen back a bit, until the others were out of earshot. "You know," she began quietly, "while it was much more flagrant on her part, Bethany isn't the only one that deviated from protocol back there."
Kathleen sighed. "I know, I know. I just..."
"You were worried about Monica." Raquel nodded. "I hate to admit it, but she wasn't entirely wrong when she accused you of being distracted by what was happening to Monica down on the street. Was she?"
She winced. "I..."
"I haven't said anything before, because it isn't against any rules for two DEBS to be involved, and you've managed to avoid being distracted by each other to a degree that put your teammates in danger." Mostly, she thought, remembering Japan. "But she was right, you should have been able to disable that thing in a third of the time it took, and he should not have gotten close enough to Bethany for her to pull that stupid stunt of hers off. I'm not going to formally reprimand you, but as you can see, I've got enough to worry about with Bethany. I don't need any other problems. All right?"
"Fair enough," Kathleen answered. And it was, really. She had been distracted by Monica, and she knew it. Although... "I don't want to sound like I'm making excuses, but I was more worried then usual because of, well, how unbalanced Bethany seemed."
"I don't doubt it."
**********************************************
"Amy! There you are!"
Amy had to smile at the enthusiastic greeting. "Janet, it hasn't even been an entire day since you say me last," she said, which did absolutely nothing to head off the bone crushing hug.
Not that she'd really expected it to.
"Yeah, but I barely got to see you then," Janet countered as she let go, allowing Amy to breathe unencumbered again. "Besides, I've been looking for you all day."
"Well, lucky thing you caught me before we headed back home, then," Amy said. Janet, she noted, wasn't smiling. That was never a good sign. "What's wrong?"
"We got a report from the Oceanside Wellness Center this morning," Janet began, and Amy felt a sick lurch in her stomach. "Sam's gone."
"She ran away?" That would be bad, all right, but somehow she doubted she was lucky enough for that to be the case.
She was right. "Someone broke in and extracted her," Janet told her. "Her primary doctor was killed and left in her room. She was stabbed with some kind of blade from behind. It went right through her in a single thrust, breaking one of her ribs in the process."
A blow like that required a fair amount of force behind it, she knew. It wasn't at all subtle, but if done right it could be as quiet as slitting someone's throat.
She'd done both enough times to know.
"Do we have any idea who took her?" An unbalanced pretender in hostile hands... That was very, very bad.
"No more then we do whose behind the thefts," Janet replied, sounding disgusted. "No prints, no sign of forced entry, nothing on the security cameras - and I mean nothing, like they hadn't been on - and none of the other security measures caught anyone where they shouldn't have been."
Amy had gone still at the mention of the thefts, the mysterious Something that had been bothering her for days growing louder and more distracting. "Let me know if that changes," she murmured, wandering off without even saying goodbye.
Even as she went, she was aware of Janet staring after her in confusion.
It didn't take long to meet up with Lucy - the DEBS computer center was only so big, after all - and Lucy only had to take one look at her to know something was wrong. Fortunately, she also knew better then to ask about it where they could be overheard, so she waited until they'd gotten home before asking, "What is it?"
"Someone took Sam." At Lucy's uncomprehending gaze, she added, "Sam Heaton? The pretender recovered in Japan?"
"Oh, right! Her. Why- No, stupid question. How-"
"How did they get her out of there? We don't know. How did they find out about her in the first place? We don't know that, either."
"And...?"
"And... I don't know. Something's just..."
"Ah." Lucy had been right there with her for the past few days while whatever it was in the back of her mind refused to come out into the light where she could get a good look at it. "Maybe if you stop thinking about it, it'll come to you. How about a distraction?"
Standing near the couch, Amy turned to look at her, an eyebrow raised.
Two hours later, they finally finished getting dressed again. "That wasn't exactly the kind of distraction I'd meant," Lucy said. "Not that I'm at all complaining, mind you."
"I should hope not," Amy replied with a smile. "What were you thinking, then?" She could have guessed, using her knowledge of how Lucy thought, but she thought it was more polite to let Lucy tell her herself.
"How 'bout a movie?" Lucy suggested.
"Fine by me," Amy said, shrugging. She stood up, wavered for a second as her blood resumed its usual course, then moved to the entertainment center, opening the cabinet that held their DVDs. Or some of them, at least. "Not really in the mood for a chick flick," she mused as she skimmed over the top two rows. "Definitely don't feel like horror." She paused at one DVD, then withdrew it and held it up for Lucy to see, her eyebrows raised in silent inquiry.
Lucy looked at it, then laughed. "Oh, that one. I think that's Scud's, actually. Remind me later to let him know we've got it."
"Uh-huh," Amy said, not lowering it.
Realizing what she was waiting for, Lucy laughed again. "I can't really explain it, sorry. Not any better then the back of the box can, at any rate. We could watch it and you could see for yourself what it's about."
"Maybe another time," Amy decided, putting it back. While it didn't look like a typical vampire movie, that wasn't quite what she was in the mood for, either.
Although a movie called Jesus Christ Vampire Hunter certainly did sound... interesting.
She blinked at the next few boxes. "You have the Bond series?"
"What, I can't like Bond films?" Lucy defended.
"Well, you do realize that the good guys always win in these, right?" She paused. "You watched them for the women, didn't you?"
"Umm..."
Amy grinned. "Hey, if it helps, you're totally my Bond girl."
Lucy considered that, then laughed. "I suppose I am, aren't I?"
"Exactly." She plucked one DVD from among the others, snorting. "Now, why am I not surprised you have this one?"
Lucy rose and walked over to join her. "Heh. Come on, how could I have resisted?" she asked, gesturing to where the cover proudly proclaimed Diamonds Are Forever. She gave Amy a quick kiss, then headed for the kitchen. "Want some popcorn?"
Silence.
She paused at the door. "Amy?"
There was a quiet thud from the other room, and she rushed back to find that Amy had dropped down to her knees, and was staring down at the DVD case, not looking like she was actually seeing it. She'd gone sheet white, and the plastic case was actually shaking in her hands.
She was crouched down by her girlfriend's side in an instant. "Amy, what is it?"
"Oh, God..." The words were barely above a whisper.
"Amy!"
Amy started, but shook herself back to reality enough to answer. "I, ah... I know what they're building."
"What who is... Oh." The thefts. She looked down at the box, skimming over the brief description of the movie.
Stopping at the words 'deadly laser satellite'. "That?"
"Prometheus," Amy whispered.
"What are you talking about?"
"It's... not really a laser. Not exactly. It takes the power of the sun and... and focuses it into a coherent beam, that..."
"I get the idea." Lucy grimaced. "How do you know that's what they're making?"
"I recognize the parts needed."
Not sure she wanted to know, Lucy none the less asked, "Um, how?"
Amy looked sick. "Because I designed it."
Well, it wasn't quite as late as the last story I updated, right?
Navi Rawat as Samantha "Sam" Heaton
Next time - Centre-flashbacks, and Amy visits Miss Parker in jail.