War: NA: It be Wednesday, So we be contemplative 1/3 By Patt Elmore Takes Place Wednesday, 11-10-04 early evening with comments/flashbacks about earlier events All persons, characters and objects used with permission "Contemplating life, or trying to figure out how much more damage you can inflict on that poor pencil?" Patt looked up from her makeshift desk in Cabon's storage room. Caren, green eyes red with fatigue, was watching her from the doorway. Patt considered the tooth mangled writing implement in her hand, and smiled thinly. The Third Cousin leaned back, considering the two stacks of papers in front of her. One was quite tall; the other was non-existent. "Guess which pile is the *payment due?*" Patt realized that NA's financial woes weren't half as serious as the concern on Caren's face merited. "No luck?" The Cajun shook her head. "Just bad. We almost caught him up north, but . . . ******flashback****** Caren hadn't slept much the past two evenings. She was restless with concern regarding her husband and sleeping in a vampire's bed wasn't exactly something she was comfortable with. Rooming with Krista and Shelly (who had not yet spent the night in the trailer) was fine, but rooming with Fisher, Track, Norm and BM was taking some getting used to. Caren quickly figured out that getting up and getting out before daybreak was preferable to waiting for four vampires to dive into a travel trailer just as the sun was rising. "Ouch!" "Hey!" "Quit that!!" "Move over?!!" "You're kidding?" "YOU'RE HUNGRY??" "HELP!" "meep!" Norm was Caren's bunkie. He was a muscularly-enhanced fellow with iron grey hair and a hint of Quebec in his voice. The first night that they'd shared accommodations, Norm had hopped on the bed and squatted there on top of her, watching Caren with interest. "Makes coming home from a hard day's labor almost worth it," he had grinned, displaying his fangs. "Wanna play house?" Caren had let her knee do the talking for her. While Norm writhed in pain, Caren had nimbly extracted herself and headed out the door, following a fleeing Krista. Today, however, Cae had left early. She needed exercise and protein. She also needed to find Monte. Just before dawn, Jesse had called from her job at the American Embassy, security division, with additional clues and sightings related to Caren's husband. Reports indicated that a man in black trousers and a red tunic had stolen a Triumph motorcycle and was terrorizing old men and small animals in a subdivision in north Toronto. Caren was up early to get ready for the hunt. Muscles limbered, appetite quelled and freshly showered, Caren headed toward her vehicle. She stopped short, however, when she saw a smiling Rob leaning against the Toyota. "Morning," the Yankee greeted her. "Going hunting?" "If I told you to go away, would you?" She smiled sweetly. "Nope. Been there and overcame that." Rob grinned back, his smile just as fake. "I want my Disney Pass back. Besides, you need a navigator." "I prefer the Toyota," Cae quipped, but decided not to argue with Christy's friend. "Just understand that if you get in my way or hinder my search I *will* dump you somewhere." "Understood," Rob nodded. Caren point shot the auto door release and both of them got into the RAV4, headed for Richmond Hill. Driving out of the city, Caren realized how much she missed the ease of cruising in a less populated environment. She was able, finally, to press the RAV4's accelerator and feel the power surging beneath her. She liked it very much. And Rob turned out to be an amusing companion. "Yeah," the Ohioian was saying, his tone rather smirky. "I've been enjoying having the trailer all to myself, since my assigned bunk mates haven't been around. Still, it can be a little sticky about 5 a.m. when the *boys* come back to town. They have a habit of coming through the windows, yelling for blood and guts. Felt like I was on an aircraft carrier in the Battle of Midway. Bogies at twelve o'clock!" "Did any of them make a move on you?" Caren asked, her eyes sliding sideways to access her passenger's reaction. Rob looked shocked. "No!" then perplexed, "no . . . at least I don't think so. But, they did call the skinny blonde one "Sissy" when he hissed at me on my way out." Caren chuckled. In fact she was laughing at one of Rob's stories about Christy at Disney World when she almost missed seeing her quarry. "There!" Rob yelled at the same time Cae spotted the target. Caren turned sharply to the right, immediately falling in behind the motorcycle. Edging closer, Caren noted the blonde man turn slightly in the seat and look over his shoulder at them. Yep, it WAS Monte. *********** Mungo Gunn stared in shock at his pursuer. Again, it was the dark-haired sorceress and her fiendish familiar. Mungo gritted his teeth and urged his steed forward, bidding it to go faster. The horsepower responded and the black Triumph quickly distanced itself from the RAV4, but only temporarily. The red carriage was soon upon them again, drowning them in its shadow. ************ "We almost got him!" Caren snarled, hands tight on the steering wheel. Rob was totally impressed with the speed that the Cajun was achieving, and leaned forward, silently urging her to go for it. The chopper cut to the left, taking a path usually reserved for joggers. While the runner in him cringed, Rob hung on as Caren turned to follow it, the small SUV managing the task easily. As she drew closer to Monte, Caren got a good look at the Triumph for the first time. "Damn it!" "What . . . we running out of gas?!" Rob asked, his voice urgent. "No," Caren shouted back. "The motorcycle. The Triumph! It's Vaq!" "Of course it's black," Rob replied, perplexed. "Not *black,* Caren retorted, caustically. "*VAQ!* Vaquera!!" "Llama herders?" Rob was even more perplexed. "Vaquera . . . black leather clad women who drive Triumphs and kick ass with spiked boots," Caren responded sharply. She turned the steering wheel, cursing softly. Rob was quiet for a moment, thinking. Then, he turned to Caren and asked quite seriously, "Are any of them hot?" ************ "Curses and the devil take them," Mungo cried. His action, however, was ill-timed. At the moment his mouth opened to verbalize his irk, a large flying insect took shelter in the cove of his palate. Mungo swallowed, and temporarily blacked out. The Triumph began pulling out from under the Scot Knight. While Mungo tried valiantly to hold on, the steed seemed to have other ideas. Instead of keeping to the path, it raced up an embankment and stalled at the crest, for a moment upright on one tire. Mungo was dislodged. He had regained some of his senses and, realizing he was going to be unseated, Mungo attempted a backwards somersault which, if he had stuck the landing, would have worked. However, the grace that should have befitted his station abandoned Mungo, and he dropped to the earth with a thud, only his buttocks as cushion. Then, ground-bound, Mungo looked up in shock as the chopper begin to tilt backwards. ************** "MONTE!!" Caren screamed, braking the RAV4. She was out of the vehicle almost before it stopped, racing toward Monte while Rob desperately clawed at his door. "Hey!" he yelled. "You left the kiddie lock on!!" "New car . . . new features . . ." Caren shouted back, continuing to run toward her husband. With difficulty, Rob got his tall frame across the tight interior of the SUV and exited the driver side door. He watched as the motorcycle teetered over Monte, then appeared to give into gravity. ******************** Mungo Gunn stared as the horse reared over him. Time for all his equestrian and evasive skills to be put to the test. The Scot Knight rolled to the left, just as the Triumph crashed to the ground, wheels spinning silently. Mungo kept rolling, determined to have himself away from the thrashing beast. He knew he would have to destroy the injured animal and, as he jumped to his feet, he held his sword ready. ****************** "MONTE!" Caren cried, racing toward her husband. The blonde man turned, gray eyes wide, then horrified at the sight of her. "Stand back, Siren," the man cried, brandishing a penknife at Caren. "I know your purpose and I will not covet it to sway me from my quest." "Monte J. Thomas!" Caren yelled, stopping short as the knife appeared. "Put that down and behave yourself." The man blinked, and seemed to be considering the woman's words. Then, he looked past Caren, yelped, waved the penknife again and turned to run. Rob ran past Caren, intent on tackling the Scot Knight. "Give me my damn pass back!" Rob demanded loudly between gulped breaths. "Give it back so I can leave this damn place and go to where it's sane!" But, coming to a turn in the path, Rob lost sight of Monte amid the throng of early evening joggers. The Templar had vanished. ******* End of Flashback*********** "Sorry about you losing him like that," Patt sympathized with her friend, then felt a twinge of concern for herself. "What happened to the Triumph? How'd you know it was Vaq?" "Who else rides the things during Canadian winters?" Caren noted. "And this one had a particularly ugly spider decal on the front." Patt shuddered too. Yep, that was most certainly Vaquera. "But, again, what happened to it?" Caren smiled mischievously. "I gave it to the Klingons." For somewhere, in a distant place called Richmond Heights, a pair of SciFi convention attendees found themselves the joint owners of a new ride, minus a headlight and part of its shiny chrome finish. ****** The end . . . except for the retribution that is sure to follow. War:NA:It be Wednesday, So we be contemplative 2/3 By Patt Elmore Takes Place Wednesday, 11-10-04 early evening with comments/flashbacks about earlier events All persons, characters and objects used with permission Patt chuckled as she considered the fate of the Vaquera Motorcycle. Just another dept to be added to the bigger pile, she finally decided. Or, with luck, they could blame it on a Merc. "Since I couldn't catch him, I'm just glad I got to see him up close and know that he's okay," Caren said, finally sitting down opposite Patt. "Yesterday, I didn't even have that." "Yeah, and I wanted to thank you again for that ungrateful assignment I gave you yesterday." "It wasn't so bad," Caren said, shrugging. "The library was quiet and I had plenty of time to think while doing the Internet research for the Rock. And, I had some time to buy you this." Caren retrieved a moderate sized package from a corner where she'd carefully hidden it earlier. "Happy Digging Out Day." Patt accepted the gift with a smile. She tore into the wrapping and her smile broadened even more. "And," Christy said, walking through the door as Patt happily unpacked the new laptop computer. "Here's the gift I promised . . ." ****** flashback*********** There was no way to soften the blow. "Everything?" Patt winced. Christy and Caren nodded sadly. "The books? The DVD collection? Even the ones starring *him*?" More sympathetic nods. "The LCD television?" "All to very good homes," Christy inserted, not mentioning that one of the homes was hers. "My clothes?" "Now, Patt." Caren clucked disapprovingly. "Those should have gone out YEARS ago. You can definitely do with a new look." "The truck? The maroon Chevy with the ugly camper shell?" Patt was shocked at the affirmative responses offered by her friends. "But . . . but . . . it's a War Icon!" "Time for the Tahoe!" Christy offered brightly. Then, the final devastating blow. "The PC?" Christy and Caren assumed very guilty expressions. "Gone." "Gone . . . just like that?" Patt looked like she might die all over again. "The plot ideas, the saved fanfic, the IM logs, the prior War Posts? All gone?" Christy suddenly brightened. "I saved it on disc!" she announced. "Comforting," Patt muttered, then, amazingly, she smiled. And, as her thoughts cleared, the smile widened into a grin. Caren and Christy grew alarmed. "He's gone too, then. Gone. Gone. Gone." Patt's voice grew gleeful as she chanted the litany. "He's gone where the Goblins go, hi ho, hi ho again." Christy and Caren began backing up. "Don't you see," Patt turned to them, her expression beyond mirth. "Vachon's not hard driving me anymore. He's just a bunch of 0's and 1's floating out in cyberspace somewhere. I'M FREE!!" Patt sobered. "The dogs? What about my babies?" "We contacted the new Mommies as soon as we confirmed your death had been exaggerated," Caren said as Christy nodded agreement. "Barney is too old to be moved again and Pearl is vacationing in Puerto Rico. Fred, however, is on the way here." "That's kewl," Patt replied thoughtfully. "What part of Puerto Rico? Can I go visit?" "After the War, dear. After the War." Caren said soothingly. "Right now, we need to discuss how to pay your life insurance claims back . . ." ********* End of flashback**************** Patt looked at the growing stack of collectible notes and sighed. Then she accepted the gift that Christy was offering a CD loaded with personal Forever Knight data and information. "Thanks, guys," Patt said gratefully. "I'm lucky to have buddies like you." "How sweet," Kriel sneered from the doorway. "Sun's down, we're out and fixing to get busy." He leered at Christy. "Feel like gettin busy with me?" "Depends," Christy shot back. "You talkin' about winding up on the business end of a pointy stick? If so, yeah. I can handle that." "Oh, she's going for my heart again." Kriel licked his lips sensually. "Time for me to get to hammering." Then, the Foreman's expression turned stern as he spoke to Patt. "How's the accounting going? You got our money yet?" "Working on it," the Third Cousin replied, patting the smaller pile. "Now that I have e-mail status, I can start contacting our benefactors. I wonder if that lady in Ismalla still needs to transfer funds out of country?" Kriel snorted and turned. "Who let the Dogs Out?" Caren said, obviously riled. "What a Jerk! I'd really like to whip up on that blankety-blank-blank and teach him a thing or two about how a woman DOESN'T want that kind of attention! Geesh, can't he find someone else to pick on? How about we call EEO/Affirmative Action on his butt!" "Yeah, but he is rebuilding the Shrine in record time," Patt noted. "You should have seen the pre-fabricated stuff that came in by Vamp Train in the wee hours of the morning. Awesome. They've already got the framework for the first two floors up." Patt looked toward the wall, noting the time. Both Christy and Cae smiled. "Won't be long now," Caren beamed. "Dee should be arriving from the airport with a very special package." "Can't wait," Patt grinned back. Then, as if to reward her thoughts, there was the sound of a car pulling up outside and a familiar whining soon reached their ears. *********************** The end . . . until the next piece. War:NA:It be Wednesday, So we be contemplative 3/3 By Patt Elmore Takes Place Wednesday, 11-10-04 just past early evening with comments/flashbacks about earlier events All persons, characters and objects used with permission Fred, the Miniature Pinscher, bounded through the door, determined to get into Patt's lap. The NunkWrangler braced herself for the head-on assault as the little dog launched himself like a missle. Dee walked in a moment later, toting an empty airline pet carrier. "Where you want me to put his bed?" she said, smiling. "Over in the corner here," Patt said amid doggie licks and kisses. "Since Sapo won't let him sleep in the trailer, I guess he'll have to bunk in here." "How about the other one? You gonna stack their crates?" Patt stopped accepting kisses and frowned. "Other one?" Dee nodded. "Another dog, another crate with your name and address on it. Came with this note." She handed the paperwork to Patt. Patt read it, and her scowl deepened. "Hmmmm." Caren and Christy leaned over Patt's shoulder to read the note. Fred panted happily. ***Hi. My name is Mattie from New Orleans, and I've been happy to take care of the Fredster these past several year. He's a great little dog, except when he has accidents."*** Fred stopped panting happily, pinned his ears back and looked very, very guilty. ***I'm writing to tell you about the little guy in the other crate. A few days ago this little fellow came wandering up the path to my house. He was dirty and forelorn, but when we cleaned him up, he was beautiful. He and Fred became inseparable friends, playing every day, running and barking. I just couldn't break them up. I hope you don't mind that I sent him along.*** "So." Patt looked at Dee expectantly. "Where is this little bundle of joy?" "Outside in his crate. He was a little too heavy to carry in, and I don't think he's leash broke. At least he didn't come with one." "Great," Patt said, getting up and heading outside. "Just what I need with a War and inflation going on . . . a green dog to train." Outside was a medium sized Vari-Kennel . Inside, the shadowy figure of a canine could barely be seen. Patt leaned down and peeked through the grate. She was immediately rewarded with a soft growl, then a series of sharp, high-pierced yips. "A Sheltie?!" Patt stood up aghast. "A friggin Sheltie?!! A friggin barking, shedding, nipping machine? You brought a Sheltie here?!! Dee shrugged. "His name is Ark," the woman offered, pointing at the luggage tag attached to the crate. Patt snatched up the tag and, after glaring at Dee, glared at the tag, then reddened further. "His name isn't Ark, ladies. His name is Spark." Patt stared at the obviously evil little dog. "Take it away, please," she begged. Caren bent down and looked into the crate. The dog's eyes softened and he began to pant. "He's probably just tired from the trip, Patt. Give the little guy a chance. He is kinda cute." Caren unlatched the kennel handle, allowing the dog to step outside. Spark immediately bolted out of the Vari-Kennel and began running circles around the women. "He's making me dizzy," Christy said, eyes losing focus. "I think I'll stick with Bassetts." "A lounger sounds like a good idea about now," Patt agreed. She had Fred tucked under her arm and was headed toward the washroom. "I'm fixing to call it a night." "What about Spark?" Caren asked. "You like him, he's yours," Patt said, never looking back. Caren contemplated the Sheltie. "Look at him, Patt. He's young and fast. This is an agility dog if I've ever seen one." Patt snorted, and kept walking. The Sheltie suddenly stopped prancing and stiffened, his eyes intently watching something across the compound. Kriel was talking with Sapo-- well, rather Kriel was whapping Sapo upside the head and yelling at him. The Sheltie curled is lips and charged toward the vampires, barking hysterically. Noting the bounding dog, Sapo shrieked and flew skyward. Kriel, however, stood his ground and as the dog sprang, Kriel caught it in the chest with his boot, kicking it back toward the women. The Sheltie flew over the heads of Caren, Christy and Dee, headed straight for Patt. "Heads up, Patt, incoming!" The trio shouted. Patt turned nimbly and caught the furry dog in her free arm. Fred whimpered happily as Spark began licking Patt's face. "Well, he is kinda cute," Patt noted. "And, if he automatically doesn't like Kriel, he can't be totally bad. But, we gotta do something about that name and make an appointment with the vet. Gotta get this little guy neutered if we're gonna keep him." Spark's ears flattened and his tail drooped as he was carried toward the washroom for his official arrival bath. **************** The end If you'd like to see a picture of the *real* Spark, with his mom and aunt, please visit us at : http://home.att.net/~radandred/2003.html scroll about half way down the page.