Date: Thu, 1 Dec 1994 21:30:51 -0800 Reply-To: Highlander TV show stories Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Perri Subject: What's Past is Prologue (2/7) X-To: fkfic-l@psuvm.psu.edu What's Past is Prologue (2 of 7) By Perri Smith Copywrite 1994 Aislyn caught a trolley to the Embarcadero, settling herself into an open seat with a silly kind of delight at the experience. *Stop it,* she told herself severely, *you're too old to act like such a child.* But she couldn't control her smile as the trolley began to move and stopped trying, sitting back to enjoy the ride. It certainly beat those damn carriages.... *%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*% San Francisco, 1851 Aislyn held on to the window for dear life as the hired carriage thundered down the rough dirt that jokingly called itself a street. She would have yelled at the driver if everyone else in sight hadn't been driving just as badly. Instead, she hung on and prayed for it to be over. When the carriage stopped in front of the gaudy dance hall, she had to take a long moment to catch her breath. The driver came around to help her out and she accepted gratefully. Her cape fell open as she stepped out, revealing a long length of stocking-clad leg to the appreciative audience standing outside the building. She received several wolf whistles, two propositions and three marriage proposals before she paid the driver and got inside. It was much better on the inside than from the outside. The gamblers were reasonably sober, the girls in their skimpy outfits clean and the piano was actually in tune. A heavy red curtain concealed a stage at the front of the room -- Aislyn looked at it with distaste. She sensed Dierdre before she saw her. "There you are," the other woman smiled. "I was beginning to think you weren't coming." "Well, I'm here now," Aislyn answered shortly. "Don't ask for too much." Dierdre made a tsking sound at Aislyn's tone. "Don't be a sore loser. By now you should know better than to draw to an inside straight." "Don't rub salt in the wound," Aislyn grumbled. "Just let me get this over with." Dierdre didn't push her luck -- Ais' temper was almost as famous as her skill with a sword. She just led Ais to a small dressing room backstage and held out a hand for Aislyn's cape, which the other woman surrendered reluctantly. "Oh good, it fits." Aislyn glared at her, then down at the skimpy excuse for a bodice and the stockings, garters and ridiculously high heels. "No bet is worth this." "Then you shouldn't have made it," Dierdre answered calmly. "You look incredible, and it's not as if I'm sending you out there alone." She disappeared behind the dressing screen. Aislyn turned away and checked the mirror, trying to pull the bodice up higher. It wasn't going to work, she realized with disgust. She'd never had a hang-up about modesty, but this was ridiculous. Dierdre reappeared after only a minute, dressed almost identically to Aislyn. Ais looked at her and groaned. "Why are you making me do this?" she asked. "Because it's fun," Dierdre answered calmly, standing beside her to look in the mirror. They made an interesting contrast, Dierdre as dark as Aislyn was fair. "Come on, our audience awaits." They had to wait for the pianist to finish a song. Ais took the opportunity to peek around the curtain, and gasped when she spotted a familiar face at one of the blackjack tables. She only had a second to mentally yell at Michael for following her before Dierdre dragged her away from the curtain. "Stop it, they'll see you." Aislyn kept sputtering. "What's wrong?" "Someone's in the audience that I did *not* want to see me like this," she explained shortly, a pleading loook in her eyes. "I'm not letting you back out of this. You'll survive." "You don't know him," Aislyn answered. "I might survive, but half the men in this room are going to die." "Jealous, eh?" Dierdre eyed her speculatively. Aislyn didn't even try to explain about Michael's skewed sense of honor. "Well, then, let's not give him a reason to be." She explained quickly, and an unholy grin slowly spread across Aislyn's face. *%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%* She still grinned, thinking about it. They had brought down the house that night, shamelessly vamping their way through the numbers. And Michael's reaction had been priceless, slow rage at the men's loud appreciation of their outfits, followed with a kind of embarrassed pride when the two women made him the focus of their flirting, ending their act draped over his lap and shoulders. The sight of her normally coldly- composed partner convulsed in laughter had been worth the skimpy outfit. They had teased each other for weeks afterward. It had always taken Dierdre to make her laugh, she reflected. Even after all of these centuries, Dierdre had never lost that sense of fun, the ability to make everyone else remember how good life was. To remember that it was easier to laugh than to cry. She got off the trolley a few blocks before the Embarcadero, deciding to walk the rest of the way. She didn't get to see dawn all that often -- there were down sides to hanging around with a vampire. The street was still quiet and still covered in the fog that never seemed to lift between May and September. Only a few people were around, mostly fishermen and commuters getting ready to board the ferries. She yawned widely, wishing for a cup of coffee. The drowsiness left her in a rush of adrenaline as she heard the muffled clash of metal on metal drift through the fog. The buzz of Immortals hit her at the same time. She started running flat-out, but she was still a block away when the lightning began. It was all over when she reached the small alley. Dierdre was lying in the ground, her head a few feet away from her body. The ground around her was scorched and soaked with blood, as were her clothes. Aislyn dropped the sword she didn't remember drawing. She heard it clang against the pavement, blending with a thousand other sounds, of seagulls, and foghorns, and footsteps running away. It all faded behind the rush in her ears as she knelt beside her friend's body, smoothing the flannel shirt with one shaking hand. She could still sense Dierdre's Quickening in the air; her friend's sword was still in her hand. Ais touched it, still not quite able to believe what her eyes were telling her. Dierdre...gone? The distant sound of sirens pulled her partly out of shock. Automatically, she checked Dierdre's pockets for a clue to who she had fought with, finding only a hotel key. She pocketed absently, reaching for Dierdre's sword, the katana that had been her pride and joy. *Damned if the police will get it.* She rose and stumbled out of the alley. __________________________________________________________________________ Perri "There comes a time 'tween life and death FOLC when all men stop to catch their breath. Knightie We ask the stars why and question our lot, DDEB2 The heavens open wide and reply 'Why not'" ___________________________________________________________________________ =========================================================================