Iain disposed of his clothes and took a long shower. Once again, leaving the tub, he stopped in front of the mirror, until the empty space reminded him that he had no more use for it. Shaking is head, he went through his wardrobe and pulled out a blue t-shirt and black cotton pants - smiling briefly at the memory of the little qui pro quo between Dren and Alex.

After a brief stop to the armory, to return the dagger he had just cleaned, he waited for several seconds outside the infirmary, finally deciding that Pieran needed rest more than he needed visits.

Hearing noises from the ground floor, he headed for the media room, where he found Alex on the couch, with a mildly bored look on her face. "Hello there..." He called her gently. "Mind if I join you?"

   "Just colliding at 50ish mpHs. Migraine. The bad sort. The ones that make you want to hide in a corner and huddle like a fetus. If you can excuse my abused similies."



   "Hey, didn't want to interrupt anything, or..." Johnny said in a confused manner, looking towards first Iona, then Raven as his eyes regained focus. "I'll be just a minute...a short such...wanted to ask if anybody could research the sideeffects of the wounds of these Fire-demons, or whatever they were."

   Feeling uncomfortable for the slightest moment, until he convinced himself there was no reason his visit should disrupt anything, he resumed. "And while we're at it, does anybody have a clue exactly what set our bewinged adversary afire? Because my Alexander Pope quotes have thus far only indulged fire beautiful young girls' passion," he said with a sideways grin. One could almost be tempted to look around oneself for the Colgate logo.

   He suddenly looked behind himself, where he thought he had heard somebody just walking, but couldn't see anybody, and prepared to make a shrugging return to the comforts of his bed.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:16, Sun 30 Jan 2005.

Iona had already her hand on the door to her own suite, when she heard Johnny's question for the second time. She really wasn't buying the Pope explanation. "Picked a helluva time for spouting poetry," she said drily, as she turned the doorknob. "Fitting though, all things considered. I'd love to hear more... tomorrow. G'night."
This message was last edited by the player at 18:03, Sun 30 Jan 2005.

“Wait a minute.” Raven looked from Johnny to Iona as they both began to move away from her door. “You each take the time and trouble to hobble to my room even though you’re hurt, and now nobody wants to talk to me?” Raven felt almost like she was in the middle of a college prank at a dorm - almost. The serious expressions on both Johnny and Iona’s faces didn’t seem very prank-like. “You’ve got my attention now. Someone should utilize it.”

She turned to Johnny and noted how frayed and wrung-out he appeared. “You were great back there, the way you took care of Pieran and the others. Everyone’s in much better shape because you were there. I’m at your disposal for any research or anything else that I can do to help you. Maybe you should get some rest. You look like you could use it. I’m sure you’ll feel better about everything in the morning.” Raven wasn’t trying to dismiss Johnny, but if all he wanted was to ask her to research the creature that had attacked Pieran – he could consider that done. She turned towards Iona, “I’ve got a hot-pot in my room that I was going to use to make some tea. I’d love the company if you’d care to join me.” Glancing once more at Johnny she asked, “Unless there’s something else you needed from me first.”

Iona hesitated. She did want to talk to Raven. But she was tired too. On the other hand: tea, comfort beverage in the world of Iona. Huh.

"Well, it does sound lovely," she said hesitantly. "You sure you don't mind?"

It wasn’t the first time he’d gone AMA and it probably wouldn’t be the last. Anyway, Pieran barely remembered Johnny’s admonition to ‘just lay still’ and he rationalized that it might have only been a dream. As Pieran slowly awoke in the cool light of the infirmary he awoke to his feelings and they weren’t very good. He didn’t feel like company and he was grateful to be alone but he also felt like vomiting, another reason to be alone. Mostly, he was determined not to spend his first night in a sick room.

On the Triple-A score of pain, the ache in his chest had receded from lit road flare to hot skillet, thanks no doubt to a combination of Johnny’s analgesics and Pieran’s own self-induced trance. “Pain is a thing of the mind, Doctor. The mind can be controlled.” It worked well enough for Spock.

Thus galvanized by drugs and delirium, Pieran slowly swung his legs off the hospital bed into which he’d been nestled. With no less than a little effort, he staggered out of the room, wobbly-kneed like a new-born fawn, with slow, badly taken steps, creeping deftly into his room before dropping  -lightly- onto his own bed.

The smell of a freshly used showed floated beneath the adjoining bathroom door, the normalcy of the affair bringing more comfort than the soulless hum of computers and telemetry machines.

Yet despite the nursery effect of his personal space visions of the earlier hours flashed before his memory. And there was a gap, some missing time. He’d winged the She-beast and in the next moment, found himself writing in agony, a crimson geyser erupting from his chest. He extrapolated from the evidence fore and aft and concluded that he’d been captured by perfidious sorcery, to which he was not especially immune, and stabbed by…something. “The bitch tried to murder me,” he growled. It was an oddly comforting thought. Too afraid to face him mano y femmo, the demon resorted to treachery. Good thing; maybe Raven thought Erinyes should be spared, and maybe even for good reason (which he intended upon understanding at a later date), but given the chance, Pieran would have torn off her head and fletched his arrows with her wings. The demoness knew it, too. So she cheated.

Everyone had been so good on the battlefield. Evidently on both battlefields, judging from the front-end damage to one of the vehicles. He’d have to catch up on their tale later. And he would have to catch up to Iain later, too. A special thanks was owed there. ‘Just look for Alex,’ he thought. ‘You’ll find him there.’ He smiled at the innocent quip. He hoped they would be good friends.

“By the gods,” he said aloud, cursing his darkened memory. Painfully, and with fully held breath, he swung back out of bed and over to his computer console. Too mangled to make the trip all the way to the Old World he hoped the electronic medium would –for once, damn it!- work the way he wanted it to, the way it was designed to work. He fired up the ‘anti-Christ,’ as he called it, fingers bumbling across the keys. Johnny showed them all how to find one another on this system but it didn’t compute in Pieran’s mind. So he sent a message in email, instead. “IONA. ARE YOU HURT?”

He would wait for an answer. And if none came, he would continue to wait, until his renewed Herculean fight –this time with sleep- would be lost and he would collapse beneath the lifeless glow of his monitor...

   "Um, well, actually..." He stopped midsentence, shrugging. dropping the serious tone. "I think I'll just go into a deep coma. The bear-like variant. See you."

Alex glanced up at the sound of voice and shrugged.  "Sure.  There's not much on, though.  Unless you have a particular interest in the life-cyle of a penguin."  She pointed at the the images on the television, where a penguin was currently waddling its way across the icy landscape, the rich tones of the narrator explaining the importance of this particular action.

Iain chuckled as he sat down near her, relaxing back on the couch: "Well, who doesn't? I take it you couldn't sleep?"

She shrugged, picking at a non-existant piece of fluff on her pyjama bottoms.  "Not so much."  One corner of her mouth lifted in a humourless, crooked smile.  "More a case of avoiding sleep.  The nightmares, you know?"

Iain half-turned to look at her: "Oh. Slayer nightmares?"

She shook her head.  "I'm not the Slayer, much to my ex-watcher's chagrin.  There's a lot of power in being the chosen one's watcher; I think he wanted that more than he should have.  All he got was fourteen wasted years with nothing to show for it.  Which is probably more information than you wanted..."  Alex was acutely aware she was rambling, barely paying attention to what she was saying.  Taking a moment, she started again, this time trying to concentrate on the words coming out of her mouth.

"To answer your question, no.  The nightmares aren't related to the Slayer.  Being the Slayer is an on off thing, you either are, or you're not.  There's no bleed-over between the two.  You know, contrary to what some people think, I'm not unhappy about not being chosen.  Granted, some of the abilities are useful, but being the Slayer is like wandering around with a giant supernatural target on your back.  I get into enough trouble on my own without that helping me out."  So much for not rambling...  It was time to change the subject, and pronto.

"So...  Uh, how's your head?"

Iain smiled: "Mmm... Kinda like someone stuffed it with foam rubber, and the occasional broken glass. And how's yours?"

Gingerly touching her cheekbone, Alex smiled slightly in return.  "Pretty much the same."

Raven watched Johnny head to his room. She had the feeling that there was still something more he wanted to say. The way both he and Iona had started to rapidly retreat from her door implied that neither of them wanted to tell what was on their minds in front of the other, so Raven had to make a quick choice. Gee, if only I had been this popular when I was in High School, Raven thought. Johnny really looked like he needed sleep, while Iona appeared in need of comfort. Raven made a mental note to touch base with Johnny in the morning and find out what was bothering him. “Sleep well, Johnny,” she called after him.

Raven motioned for Iona to enter as she opened the door wider to give Iona plenty of room to maneuver on her crutches. “I never go to sleep this early. I was planning on unwinding with some tea and your company would be most welcome.”

"BLOODY HELL!" the fact that Dren had pronouced a word by using the 'H' was somewhat glazed over by the sheer volume of his yell as it shattered through the bathroom door and demolished calmness of Raven's room. It wasn't more than a few seconds later that the bathroom door opened and Dren soaked head appeared breifly. "Good evein' ladies. Jus' thought I'd let y'two know tha'our multi-billion-dollar mansion... is out o' 'ot water." he paused as if there was more to say, but simply smiled and vanished back into the bathroom.

"Probably explains our choice in entertainment, too." Looking quite relaxed, Iain just kept watching the screen as the narrator explained how the male penguin incubated the egg by keeping it on his feet...

Alex nodded and mumbled some sort of agreement to Iain's statement.  She managed to stay awake through the Antarctic animal triple-bill, but exhaustion eventually overwhelmed her and she dozed off on the sofa, curled up against the plush side.

Raven helped Iona get comfortable on the chaise lounge so the injured woman could stretch out her leg. The archaeologist had filled her electric kettle with water right before her door had become ‘Grand Central Station’, so all she had to do now was turn it on. “I had a model like this at home. Simple to use, easy to maintain – I like that in a gadget. It can bring seven cups of water to a boil in five minutes. It’s one of the few pieces of technology that I actually get along with,” Raven smiled at Iona.

Iona smiled back, immediately more at ease. She patted the pocket of her robe. "I'm a gadget freak myself -- I never part with my PDA phone." She fished out the little shiny piece of metal that was as much a part of her as... well, scarves actually.

Raven glanced at the device, “Assuming I’d even figure out how to use a thing like that, I’d probably have it broken within a day.”

"Ah," Iona said, carefully replacing her darling in her pocket. Then she jumped up, at the sound of a blood-curdling scream:



Iona grimaced wildly, grasping her injured leg that she had leaned on when Dren had surprised them. But she didn't fail to see the humour in the situation, and managed to grin through the pain. "That Dren of yours is something else, isn't he?" she said to Raven.

“He’s not mine, but yeah, he can be a character sometimes.” Raven hadn’t been half as startled as Iona. She’d been around Dren long enough to recognize the difference between a yell of surprise and annoyance, instead of one that indicated real trouble. Iona nodded, not commenting further on that subject.

Raven opened a decorative canister and began spooning an aromatic mixture into a pair of cups. “I made this blend myself, loosely based on a spiced tea I had in Russia once.”

Iona sniffed the appreciatively. "Smells delicious," she said, watching the other woman go through all the right paces to obtain a perfect cup of tea. Meanwhile, Iona spoke up once more.

"So, about today..." she started. "Looks like there's someone out there, orchestrating a series of events. The vamps wiping the Solerites in Ninti's dimension, Erinyes here... I don't know what to make of it all." She bit her lower lip, clearly bothered.

Raven nodded “Someone or something. There’s definitely something bigger going on here.”

Iona nodded. "And I'm not too keen on getting trampled by whatever it is. I hate being manipulated. Nothing's been right since the seven of us got tossed together. We don't even know who's really behind that. Basically, we've been kidnapped and blackmailed into taking a job we never asked for in the first place, for someone who hasn't even shown his face to us yet."

“I’m definitely not a fan of working for somebody else. I loved being my own boss, but I don’t feel that I was blackmailed into this. If it weren’t for this second chance, we’d all be dead. And whoever brought us here is not responsible for the situations that got us killed. We did that all on our own.” Raven poured hot water into the cups and, after stirring, handed a cup and saucer to Iona. A citrus tea scent blended with cinnamon and nutmeg, plus a few other spices, wafted through the room.

"What were you doing?" Iona asked, curious. "And, more importantly, how come you were doing it? Is it at all possible you were somehow manipulated into that situation, to make sure you had nothing to go back to once you got here?"

Raven spoke quietly as she brushed some wet strands of hair away from her face. “I haven’t had anything to go back to for a very long time. That’s why I like to travel so much. I was in the process of buying a house but, I didn’t expect to spend a lot of time there. One place is as good as any other as long as there’s something worth digging up.” It was hard to tell if Raven meant that figuratively, or literally.

Taking her own cup of tea, Raven curled up on the chair opposite Iona. “We were in a temple in Egypt when we got caught by an ancient trap. I don’t think anybody but Dren and I are responsible for that. I’d been tracking this particular item for quite some time. Nobody helped us locate it or sent us after it. We did that all on our own. As for the trap – there wasn’t anything unusual about it and it’s not uncommon for there to be traps like that protecting items of great value. We made an error this time, or at least I did. We’ve made mistakes before, this just happened to be a fatal one. I didn’t see any indication of any outside manipulation, until that portal appeared and intervened in what most certainly would’ve been the death of both of us.”

Iona was almost a bit disappointed. Not that Raven had nearly died, no. But it did seem like Hornsby, and whoever his employer was, had actually done some of them a favor by bringing them here. And in all honesty, Iona couldn't say she had much to return to either. She had left some family behind, true. But they hadn't exactly been on speaking terms for a long time. And really, all she needed to continue her private research project was right here, in her pocket.

Iona sipped the tea carefully, to avoid burning her tongue. It tasted even better than the smell had advertised. She said as much to Raven, before continuing on a new path.

"Then there's the question of who had this job before us. Was that how Erinyes was foiled at all her previous attempts at re-entering this world? If that's the case, then why did she keep coming back every 30 years? Why didn't they just do her in once and for all a hundred years ago?"

“Perhaps they tried,” Raven answered. “In all honesty, we don’t know for certain that she won’t be back in thirty years. We think we’ve done her in for good but, the only way to be sure is to wait thirty years and find out. So our predecessors may have done things that they thought would keep her from returning. What bothers me is - why don’t we have access to notes and files made by our predecessors? There’s no point in trying things that somebody before us has already discovered won’t work. I don’t understand why Hornsby and his bosses are so tight-lipped about who came before us and what they did.”

"Probably because things didn't end so well for them..." Iona said darkly. "Speaking of which, remember those dungeons that Pieran found? Don't you wonder about what was in there and where is it now?"

“I nearly forgot about that busted up cell he mentioned! I was planning on checking it out and seeing if I can learn anything from it. Maybe I can get an impression that will give us few answers.” Raven sipped the flavorful hot liquid.

"Well, now that you mention it, maybe I can try to coax some more information out of our good Mr. Hornsby next time we meet." Iona scowled. "But you see my point, right? There's just too many questions and not nearly enough answers. I hate this, hate uncertainty! At least in ordinary research, you work from a hypothesis, you have an idea of what you're looking for. Here, we have nothing!"

“I wouldn’t say nothing” Raven’s tone was confident and reassuring. “We have pieces to a puzzle. I think with a little digging, we’ll be able to start fitting some of the pieces together. One clue leads to another, and soon the mystery starts to unravel. That’s been my experience. It just takes time and patience.”

Iona wasn't as sure. "Hey, I love a good puzzle as much as the next girl -- that would be you -- but not when I'm suddenly one of the pieces. Gives you a kind of skewed perspective, makes you lose objectivity. Besides, what if we don't fit together?"

“Or, being one of the puzzle pieces yourself could be a great source of motivation for you,” Raven said. “As for not fitting together properly, as far as I’m concerned it beats the alternative of a watery grave in Egypt. Besides, I think you and I will get along just fine. I can’t recall the last time I met someone who shared my passion for chasing after fine details. I look forward to working with you.”

At this, Iona regained her good humour once more. "Likewise," she replied, dimple showing in her happy smile.

The pleasant moment was interrupted by a beep from Iona's pocket. "Sorry," she said, checking the screen of her PDA. "It's just an email from... Pieran?" She raised her eyebrows in question, and tapped the screen. "Oh. Oh! Oh, he's up, he's awake! Umm, I... er--" Iona was clearly flustered.

"I should go check in him," she said with an apologetic look at Raven. "Thank you so much for the tea, and the talk. I'll see you tomorrow?"

Raven closed the door behind Iona as the dark-haired woman scurried off. If Pieran was awake and composing email, then maybe he’s doing much better and Johnny’s concerns are unwarranted. Raven hoped so, but she intended to see if she could come up with any helpful research for their resident med-student just the same. Dressing in her comfy clothes, she grabbed another cup of tea and headed towards the library.

Dren found Raven a few moments later, drinking Guinness and wearing pajama trousers and a t-shirt that matched the lable of his bottle. Looking over the books as if he knew what he was looking for, or even at for that matter, he finally started talking "I 'ad it." sitting down he placed the bottle straight on the table a moment before realizing the mistake in that, so he just held it against his hip "Th'tomahawk. I 'ad fer a minute... I mean it only counts if y'can bring it 'ome. But tha' wansn't m'fault."

Raven looked at Dren over the top of her glasses, she rarely wore her contacts this time of night.“I know.” She agreed that it wasn’t Dren’s fault but her tone was clearly disappointed. “I didn’t get a good look at the tomahawk from my vantage, but it seemed on the large side to be traditional Native American. Were you able to tell anything about it at all? Did it seem magical?”

She lifted her cup of tea from the coaster it was set on and took a sip. Reaching into the desk drawer, Raven took out another coaster and slid it towards Dren with a pointed look.
“I suppose it could’ve been worse. Iain nearly cost us the silver dagger. I thought I was quite clear when I told him to be careful with it and what does he do? He hurls it at the creature. We’re lucky she didn’t also take that with her when she vanished.” Raven was obviously annoyed with Iain’s lack of care towards the weapon. “I nearly lost the ring, too. Even though it turned out to have a slight flaw and was rejected by our buyer, it has come in handy for us a couple of times. I’d always intended to try to find another buyer for it, but in light of our new circumstances, I think I’ll hang on to it for a bit.”

“I wish I'd gotten my hands on Erineyes dagger. It appeared to be a unique item with unusual properties. I would’ve loved to have studied that – for Pieran’s sake, of course. Still… I can only imagine what something like that would be worth on the open market.”

Dren shrugged, "Ya know me. I couldn't tell ya th'difference between Excalibur an' a bastard sword without a let'er of certification."


"T'bad ya couldn't just study what it did to Pieran. Try to start from the effect, an' work back." after another sip Dren put the bottle on the coaster "I've been thinkin' about that voice we 'eard. It said it 'ad assisted 'er 3 times. That means th'voice 'ad t'meet 'er befor 'elpin 'er. So who ever our voice belongs ta, that person can travel between worlds. An' if we can find out where th'bird was before she appeared on that lake, then we at lest know where our voice 'as been." taking up his bottle he looked it over rather dissapointedly "Then again, I might jus' be talkin' about an Episode o'Star Trek"

“Yes, with Johnny and Iona’s help, we can certainly do that. We should be able to help Pieran that way, but it’s not nearly as pleasing. I’d like to actually hold the item and examine it. It’s like the difference between a health bar with the flavor and consistency of cardboard, and a gourmet meal. They can both satisfy your nutritional needs but one is infinitely more enjoyable than the other.”



Raven nodded, “I agree that learning more about Erineyes may be our biggest lead right now. That mark that was carved on the table and the alter back in Ninti’s world isn’t distinctive enough to research with ease. I still intend to try, but I don’t expect to get very far until I can narrow the field some more. The problem with researching Erineyes is a lot of what is known about her is full of contradiction. I’m having trouble separating fact from fiction. I’ve yet to find a source that mentions that dagger she carried. She’s a vengeance demon, I know that much. She’s not Native American in origin, either. Some vengeance demons have been known to pose as humans to insert themselves into our reality so they can stir up trouble. I think that’s what she was doing when she somehow got trapped or stuck. Question is - who trapped her? And why did ‘he of the big booming voice’ want to free her? I don’t know about anybody else, but I’m just a bit bothered that he referred to Cornerstone by name. He’s got us at a disadvantage – he knows who we are, but we don’t have a clue about him… or it as the case may be. Makes me wonder what else he knows about us.”

Iona paused right outside of Pieran's door. She'd already looked for him in at the infirmary, and this was the next logical place to find him. Now she was wrestling with a decision: to knock or not? What if he was asleep already? He needed to rest, that was for sure. He really shouldn't have left the Med Clinic at all. Stubborn man!

Of course, that wasn't the real reason Iona hesitated. She just wasn't sure she was ready to face him. For one thing, she was too tired and worn out. Heck, she was too injured. In short, she didn't feel strong enough to be confronted with the sight of Pieran -- not tonight. She needed time.

But she couldn't just ignore his message either. After another moment of deliberation with herself, Iona finally settled on a solution, making her way to her own room instead. ‘I am such a coward,’ she thought.

Steeling herself, she sent out to him: { ‘Pieran? Are you awake? Just wanted to let you know: I'm fine. You can go to sleep. We can talk tomorrow. Rest now.’ }

Iona softly voiced one last thought before falling asleep. "Chicken."

::::

Iona’s mental voice shot through Pieran’s head, peeling its way through the sear of pain fogging his mind. Johnny’s analgesics had done a good job but already they were wearing off. It wasn’t Johnny’s fault: this wound was exceptional.

Pieran jumped at the sound of her voice and he winced audibly. He really should not have been out of bed. But even great men had to pee; clearly he couldn’t be faulted for being up and around. Nor could he be blamed for pausing to checking on Iona on his way to the “gentleman’s smoking lounge.” Some things are too important to delay.

Iona’s reply came more than he expected. An electronic reply would have sufficed. But upon hearing her voice -once he realized that he was still alone in his room- filled him with gladness, even if he seriously doubted that she was ‘fine.’

‘Liar,’ he thought back. But he doubted she could hear him and as he staggered to his feet he added, 'Mañana. Gracias, querida.’ Anyway, he hoped she couldn't hear that!

He completed an agonizing slow set of chores in the bathroom, including a shave and a sponge bath. He fully meant to return to the Medical Clinic, he really did! But as he made his way back through his room and toward the door, blackness suddenly pounced on his head like a panther; gravity came to do its worst and he fell.

He thought his landing remarkably soft for a floor...
This message was last edited by the player at 19:42, Sun 06 Feb 2005.

Dren actualy had no idea how to respond to that, he through for a moment but no more ideas came to him. After the extended silence, he felt he should say something but lacking anything truly clever he defaulted back to a topic that was much easier for his mind to wrestle with, "So... wit' th'time change an' all, we ended up missin' th'second t'last episode of Rescue Me fer th'season." taking a sip he then added "I found a TV schedual that showed it bein' rerun at midnight."

Raven’s eyes seemed to light up, “Really? After the stuff we discovered about Highlander and Smallville I wasn’t going to get my hopes up regarding Rescue Me. If this is the same episode that was advertised before we took our little trip through the portal, then this should be the one where Garrity and the new female firefighter hook up.” She shook her head, “Laura should know better. It’s a bad idea to date the men you work with.”

Raven hesitated, looking at the books and thinking of the research she still wanted to do tonight. A break might do her good, clear her head and let her look at things with fresh eyes. “Let’s get the beer,” she said as she stood. “If they’ve recast the part of Franco in this reality, I will write an angry letter to the network.”

Dren shook his head "It's a bad idea t'date Garrity."


With a firm nod Dren stood up "See, now yer startin' to understand why I e-mailed th' WB 'bout Ben Affleck."

Dren went to the kitchen to get a couple of beers while Raven headed to the media room. She could hear the faint sound of the TV as she approached, so Raven quietly peeked into the room and saw a sleeping Alex. She thought she caught a glimpse of Iain as well, but couldn’t tell if he was awake or not. She met Dren just as he was coming out of the Kitchen. “Alex and Iain have fallen asleep in front of the TV, why don’t we go to the bar in the basement? We can watch the smaller TV down there.”

Dren held the beer mugs to his chest to keep them from clinking as he tried to look around Raven and into the room. It's not that he didn't take her word for it, it was the couriousity of seeing the un-Slayer and the vampire still hanging out like they were best of frieds. It was the same morbid curiousity that would make one pause to look at a traffic wreck, natural disaster or homosexual-NeoNazi-submissive... in leather.

Deciding, he wouldn't get a good view of anything tonight he simply nodded and headed for the bar keeping comments sealed behind his teeth for now... Vampires were known for thier good ears almost as much as thier bad breath.

Raven rose early the next morning, as was her habit. She got dressed and went to the kitchen to make coffee. She had a simple breakfast then filled two tall thermal coffee mugs and trekked back upstairs in search of Johnny. She was a bit worried about him. He hadn’t looked too well the night before. She was hoping it was just fatigue and that a night’s sleep had done him some good. He had given her the impression that there was something on his mind that was troubling him. Of course, any number of things from the past few days would be enough to throw an average person into a tailspin. First Johnny had found out demons, vampires, and other creatures of the night are real. That was followed by the news that he had been saved from death and transported to a reality where his family didn’t know him. And now there was the burden of being the primary caregiver for their wounded. It was certainly understandable how all those things would make a basket case out of most people, but they needed Johnny to hold it together. He was the closest thing to a Doctor they had.

Raven knocked on Johnny’s door, hoping to catch him before he headed to the clinic so they could talk one on one. After a brief while, he could be heard answering drowsily from the other side of the door: "I'm sleeping. Go away." Raven wasn't that easily dissuaded and after an extended, slightly embarrassing period of knocking and dissatisfied grunts, Johnny surrendered and opened the door. If nothing else, his stunt had bought him time to get properly dressed to receive a lady.

“Good morning,” Raven said. “You’re looking better. I take it you slept well? I’m sorry we didn’t get a chance to talk last night, but you really looked like you needed to be in bed. I thought perhaps we could catch up this morning. I brought coffee.” Raven smiled as she held the two mugs out in front of her.

Johnny, finally awake and realizing he had after all been the one to request her aid, mentally reprimanded himself and put up one of his trademark smiles. He opened the portcullis of his fort, the Asian Room, and invited the archaeologist in with a sweeping motion of his hand. "Quality's fine, but quantity rather dissatisfactory." Seeing her puzzled expression, he explained, shrugging: "You asked if I slept well. Thanks, by the way."

Raven handed Johnny one of the coffees then crossed the room and sat in the chair next to the fireplace, putting her feet up on the ottoman. After taking a sip of coffee, she studied Johnny’s face, trying to gauge how he was really doing. “Busy couple of days we’ve been having. How are you holding up?”

Johnny shrugged, failing to hide his slight discomfort with the issue - the shrugging appeared to be a nervous habit of sorts. He replied evasively, mustering humor as a hurried barrier: "At least I'm not lying down like the other half of this troupe," he said, smiling without his eyes. "Nah, but really, you ask? 'Sorry I've been such a drag lately...trying to adapt to a new habitat, doing something else than worshipping my own sad self. Thinking brought back a lot...my childhood migraine, for one, but I don't want you worrying about me in all this mess, I'm not the one with a wound the size of Manhattan on my shoulder."

Raven nodded, “Pieran and Iona’s injuries are a priority, of course, but you mustn’t neglect your own health while you tend to them. You won’t do them any good by exhausting yourself.”

"The thing is, I've got a mere college education in medicine, and although a rather extensive such, it's lacking as far as covering more complicated injuries is concerned." Johnny bit his lip thoughtfully, appearing extremely focused. "In particular, I'm lacking in the demonic department, so I was hoping you could help me figure out possible medical abnormalities brought about by these Fire Demons. I hope the hospital will administer proper treatment for Jamal and...well, whatever her name was."

"Fyarl Demon," Raven noted absently. She shook her head, “No, nothing I’ve read indicates there are any lasting side-effects. We can check with Iona. She analyzed the chemical properties of the mucus, but I’m sure if she’d found something of concern she would’ve already told us.”

"Guess I could drop her a sample - she lent me a hand last night, despite her own wounds. We attempted treating Pieran's wound together, and for some reason, it showed symptoms of Aspartic Acid Tras..." Johnny stopped mid-sentence, shaking his head, smiling. "I'm sorry, what I'm trying to say is, his wound was for some reason almost blown off of the pH-scale...which doesn't make much sense to me. We neutralized the acid, but without knowing the cause, I'm just polishing the iceberg. The dagger he was stabbed with, do you perhaps...?" he asked, trailing off.

Raven let out a long sigh, clearly frustrated by her lack of progress on that front.“I’ll be honest, I’m having trouble locating information about that, but I’m not giving up yet. It appeared from my vantage point that the dagger was coated in some kind of substance. I’m sure you cleaned the wound, but if you still have any of the materials you used – some gauze or something that might still have some of that compound on it – then perhaps Iona could scrutinize it. She might be able to come up with something that not only narrows my search, but may be very useful to you in how you treat the wound.”

The slightest, embarrassing pause ensued as the natural topic of discussion had been dealt with. Coughing discreetly, Johnny made as to say something, but cut himself short.

Raven watched him closely. “Is there something else on your mind?”

"Truth to tell...this strange environment is confusing me a bit. I mean, Iain's apparently a vampire, whatever that might entail. Sure, I've heard the stories of Count Dracula and all, but aren't vampires supposed to be, you know...killing? Drinking human blood? Dancing on graves in the moonlight of midnight? I thought we disapproved of that kind of behavior. Dancing." Johnny grinned mischievously for a moment. "It's almost like being to the psychologist - except they are mostly old, perverted men with weirdly knotted ties. At med-school, nobody else ever took a seat at their table..."

Raven raised an eyebrow at the sudden shift in topic. “Most of my experience with vampires has come from books.” Raven paused as she mentally scanned some of the various stories and articles she’d read. “They don’t paint a very flattering picture. But, they weren’t in reference to a vampire with a soul, either. That does change things where Iain is concerned. I don’t believe he’s ever tasted human blood. It is possible for them to survive off the blood of animals. The supply that is shipped to Cornerstone for Iain comes from a butcher.”

Johnny squinted thoughtfully, trying to absorb the information. "I will just skip trying to make sense of that. Most of us seem to have settled down with the fact that Iain's a...you know...using that very word outside of a D&D context still feels strange. Dren seems to have another take on the whole matter, though?"

Raven hesitated as if considering her words before she spoke. “The family of a friend of Dren’s was murdered by a vampire while his friend was forced to watch. His friend asked Dren to help him get the creature responsible, but in the end Dren’s friend was also killed and the vampire got away. I don’t know exactly what happened. He’s never shared the details with me. I just know that he was never the same after that.” Raven looked almost solemn as her mind appeared to drift for a moment, then she seemed to snap out of it as she returned to the conversation. “I’m afraid Dren’s feelings about vampires are deeply personal, and the fact that Iain has a soul may do little to change them. I like Iain and I believe we can trust him, but we would probably do well to remember that it is a very thin line that separates the Iain we know from the monster within. If Iain ever looses control of his demon, we would all be in very serious danger.” And Dren might be the only person who is both willing and able to put a stake through Iain’s heart, if that need should ever arise, Raven thought to herself. She believed it was a good thing that at least one of them would be able to do it, just in case the magic that held Iain’s soul in place was ever dispelled.

Johnny sat very still, appearing a bit uncomfortable. "Well, that's...grim," he simply said, at a loss for anything else to say. "That does explain things though - I always figured you two were an odd match. 'Hoped I could just treat the Irish as a mono-layered person, but guess even he has his secrets. Just leaves me to figure out, I guess," he said with a wink. "Though I'm still trying to figure out what set our winged adversary afire last night."

Raven finished the last of the coffee in her mug. “I’ve got a couple of working ideas about that, but nothing I’m ready to share yet. I’ll let you know when I feel I’ve got something more concrete.”

Rising to his feet, Johnny looked far better now than last night. "I guess I'll go check on Pieran and drop by Iona with a sample then. Thanks for, well, the coffee..." he teased.

“Anytime,” Raven said as she stood. “If I find anything more regarding the weapon that was used on Pieran, I’ll be sure to let you know.” She smiled at him as she left to go refill her coffee before returning once again to the library.


His thoughts still focused on their conversation, Johnny set off to have a peak on Pieran's medical state, picking up some apple juice for him on the way - with the mixed-in iron supplements, he'd recover more easily from the blood loss. Actually whistling a tune - one not familiar to anybody but the grimmest of metalheads - he cheerfully walked towards the clinic and nudged the door open.

Inside, however, he found nothing but an empty bed. Confused, he tried recalling the events of last night, attempting to figure out if he had forgotten something in his painkiller trip, but failing to do so, he felt a chill sensation creeping down his spine. "Knew I should've...knew I should've," he told himself as he left the bay and shouted into the hallway:

"Where in the nine bloody burning nethers has that mental case went now?" he shouted angrily, addressing thin air, pacing back to the third floor to look around himself for Pieran's room, the water of worry slightly hidden beneath the anger of oil. Reasoning Pieran's would be the African one, he walked up to its door and attempted to kick it open. Failing miserably at anything but bruising his foot, he cursed in a manner which could make baby Jesus cry and opened the door with his right hand. Tracing the wall to find the lights, he entered the room, coffee in his left one and an indiscernible smell in his nose. Finally flicking the switch, he froze dead as he found Pieran lying inanimate on the floor, a trickle of blood tracing from his body towards the far wall.

Johnny stood still for a moment, waiting for time to resume its pace, simply dropping the coffee as he tried to get his muscles back into working order. Heart racing, he ran to kneel by the man's side, two fingers searching for a pulse on his arm.

             To be continued...