Keep the Light Alive
Part 1 of 2
a Witchblade/Mummy crossover
by Celli Lane
Part 2 can be found here, under the Mummy category. I couldn't figure out which category the story belonged in, so I split the difference.
Disclaimer: Offhand, I can't remember who everyone belongs to, but suffice it to say it's not me. I promise I'm not making any money off this.
Author's Notes: I blame 90% of this story on Cath, who got me hooked on Witchblade, and the other 10% on Val, who made a completely unrelated comment about Alex that got me going. The song is from the Lowen & Navarro album "Pendulum."
If you're not familiar with Witchblade, try http://www.witchbladetv.com
or The
Witchblade Fan Page.
For the Mummy movies, try http://www.themummy.com
or Secrets of The
Mummy.
Thanks to my beta-readers: Jen and the Horsechicks (KikiPerriValDeeCath'n'Lizbet), who tried really hard even though few of them were familiar with both fandoms. And a last-minute thank-you to my brother Brian, who listened politely when I got stuck. Feedback is welcome--email me if you don't want anyone to see your real opinion. :)
__________________________________________________________________________________________
These are the times that try the strongest souls...
--"Keep the Light Alive," Lowen & Navarro
Berlin, Germany
August 1944
"No, wait, please! Who created the Witchblade?
Where did it come from?"
Elizabeth Bronte, SS Mistress, American spy--and Witchblade
wielder--fingered the bracelet at her wrist. She
understood, as Sara
Pezzini might not, the meaning beneath her question. What
is the
Witchblade's purpose? Does it want to help humankind, or
some of it at
least? And will it destroy me, if necessary, to accomplish
its purpose?
"It is a branch ripped from the Tree of the Knowledge...of
Good and Evil,"
she answered finally, hoping her "future" self could
understand. Sara
looked as though she might realize some layers of Elizabeth's
meaning.
Perhaps in time--
Elizabeth laughed softly as she exited the room and returned to
her own
"reality." With all the time--all the
lifetimes--in the world, Sara might
never truly understand that the Witchblade never limited itself
to the human
definitions of good, evil, right, wrong...Without turning,
Elizabeth saw in
her mind's eye the bed she'd left behind, and the man asleep in
it. "Nor
sin," she whispered to herself. "Nor
salvation."
She had automatically walked along a section of soldiers'
housing--rough
barracks not far from the posh surroundings her Lieutenant had
acquired for
her. Engrossed in her own thoughts, she gave a startled
squeak when someone
grabbed her by her arm and pulled her into one of the doorways.
It goes without saying that the man started kissing her as soon
as they
disappeared from view.
"You know," she said breathlessly after a few moments,
"we're spies,
O'Connell. Aren't we supposed to have passcodes and
such?"
He grinned down at her. "You don't think I can
recognize you this way,
Lizzie?"
"It's definitely...unique."
A cranky German voice came from the other side of the door, and
Elizabeth
ducked away into the small bedroom. She laughed at the
clever, but very
rude, response.
"Alex! Even I am not supposed to know what that phrase
means."
He followed her in, reverting to that plummy British accent that
came
naturally to him. "Do you know what it
means?"
"It means your roommates aren't likely to bother us for
quite a while."
He really was beautiful when he laughed, even with the too-short
haircut and
too-short uniform pants of the German private he was supposed to
be. He had
the most incredible blue eys, and those dimples...well, even an
"American
Mata Hari" could be forgiven for succumbing, just a little,
to those
dimples.
He saw the look in her eyes and moved closer to the bed, but she
held a hand
up. "Alex..."
"Lizzie..." he nearly whined.
"Alexander Carnahan O'Connell."
"Oh, now you've done it," he said glumly.
"That sounded exactly like my
mother at her most annoyed."
"And I'm sure you gave her just cause."
"Lizzie, are you going to pester me about my youthful
indiscretions again?"
She held up a handful of documents. "Code work
first." She leaned closer.
"Then, if you're very lucky, we'll work on some
not-so-youthful
indiscretions."
"Well then." He snatched the papers from
her. "Why didn't you say so in
the first place?"
~~~~
A half hour later, Alex was mumbling to himself in a
corner. Elizabeth
tuned him out--from long experience--and concentrated on one
particular
document. The Witchblade felt warm on her wrist, and she
rubbed it absently
as she read.
"Lizzie?"
"Hmm?"
"Your arm is glowing."
"Excuse me?" Startled, she looked down at her
right wrist. The gem in the
Witchblade was indeed glowing. "It, ah...it doesn't
usually do that."
He lifted an eyebrow at her. "In public, you
mean."
"What? Alex--?"
"Oh, come on. Did you think I hadn't noticed that
you're wearing the
Digitabulum Magi on your wrist?"
Her brain refused to kick in. "You know your
history," she said finally.
"I know my treasure. Hitler filched it from the
Vatican five years ago--"
"Filched?"
"--so you must've gotten it from Germer."
She stiffened at Rolf's name. Ever since they'd...met, both
of them took
care not to mention the man who was her main assignment in
Berlin. "So?"
"So, you are going to return it to the Vatican when you
leave here, right?"
"Look, Alex..." What was she supposed to
say? Sorry, Mr. O'Connell, but I
have a blood right to it, even if it is a centuries-old
antiquity? "It's
not that simple."
"Of course it is. It's just a stupid
bracelet." He caught himself, and
rubbed the heel of his hand over his eyes. "Although
I've been wrong about
that before..."
"It won't come off."
Something in her voice must have actually penetrated the
absurdity of it
all. He looked as though he might actually believe
her. "What do you mean,
it won't come off?"
She turned her wrist over to show the lines of scar tissue, where
the
Witchblade had embedded itself in her skin. "If I'm
fortunate...it will
stay on my wrist until I die."
"Lizzie. Elizabeth."
"Alex." She tugged on his shoulders until he
looked from the Witchblade to
her eyes. "There's things I can't tell you...there's
things I don't want to
tell you. It's been a rather difficult day, and I'm not
ready for another
argument on right and wrong."
He cupped her face in his hands, and for the first time she saw
the same
knowledge in his eyes that she'd held all along--that even if
they won, even
if their efforts were successful, nothing would ever be
"right" after all
this was over. She couldn't be normal for him, even if she
wanted to.
"Lizzie. Tell me what to do?"
"Just...be with me, Alex. If you can."
Those dimples made an amazing reappearance. "Oh, I can
definitely do that,
love."
The Witchblade stayed warm on her wrist as she embraced him.
If the candle that you're holding has grown a bit too dim
Then let me stand beside you 'til the sun pours in...
...continued in Part
2