Heart Catcher

A fan-fiction to the 39 clues series

The sunset cast an eerie glow across Amy's face, and making her emerald green eyes glisten with luminescence.

"What do you want, Ian?" she asked warily.

"You know exactly what I want, Amy." Ian glanced at her knowingly.

He knew she had what he wanted. And in return, he would give her back something she would surely want.

"Give. me. The. Clue." Ian pronounced each word clearly, and slowly, to make sure that Amy did not lose his meaning.

He looked carefully at her, and beneath the wisps of hair that escaped her golden circlet, her jeweled colored eyes had flashed with amusement.

"What clue?" the corner of her lip curled, her arms crossed against her chest.

It was two years into the games, and Ian found that the farther they delved into the secrets, the more mysterious Amy had become. Her shy stutter had been replaced with a confident, bold, stare, and she was slippery enough to escape from anything, yet cunning enough to solve the enigma of the games.

Ian knew he had to get the clues, else his mother, Isabel would be furious.

"The girl still loves you, Ian," she had purred. "Seduce her, Win her trust. Steal it from under her nose."

Ian wasn't sure this would work a second time though, and he realized the longer he waited, the harder it would be to get Amy to drop her defenses as she grew stronger with every step she took.

"Come on, Amy," Ian said, softening his voice and bringing out his silky British accent he knew every other girl would die for.

He widened his amber eyes. "You know we're on the same side. You know we can do this together. You know you really do want us to work out."

He took a step forward and looked into her eyes, leaning towards her. Amy looked startled for a moment, but recovered quickly. She hissed beneath her breath.

"You know that won't work a second time, Ian," she sneered.

"Oh really? As far as I recall, you fell for it the first time."

This comment caused Amy to snap. "You've never cared about anyone but you. You'll never understand what I've been going through. You almost let your dear mother murder me."

"You betrayed my trust," at this her eyes started looking watery, and she took a breath as if not to cry, "and, if not enough, you killed my brother. I'll never forgive you."

From behind her cotton Greek toga, she pulled out a sword. It was long and sharp, and she grasped it and pointed it at Ian. Ian wasn't surprised. He knew this was eventually going to happen.

"Listen, I'll make you a deal." he began.

Amy spat at him.

"The last time I made a deal with you, you locked me in a cave left to die." She twirled around suddenly, and lunged towards Ian with the sword. He ducked out of the way and looked back at Amy with a beguiled expression on his face.

"Don't expect me to agree to any bargain." Her voice was filled with angst.

"But,-he said slowly-it involves Dan."

Amy's face was one of shock, then her eyes darkened, her lips tightening in anger. "Dan is dead. You didn't deny it. Don't' try to trick me with fantasies that aren't real."

Ian faced her squarely. "Is Dan's death real? Or just a trick? Was it meant to disarm you? Where was the evidence? No body was found." He paced back and forth.

Amy considered this. She couldn't bear to have lost Dan. If he was alive, then it was more than she could've ever hoped for.

"You haven't hurt him, have you?" she asked in what she had hoped to be a menacing voice. He waggled his annoyingly elegant finger in front of her face.

"Not so fast. The deal, is: I'm challenging you to a duel. If I win, then you give me the clue. If you win, then, I give you information about Dan, possibly leading to your discovery of his current location."

Amy studied Ian for a moment, pondering, but felt her heart yearning for a challenge, one that she knew she could face.

One word was all that was needed to confirm the deal.

"Done," Amy replied.

The wind seemed to sweep up her response, accepting it as a sacrifice. With surprising swiftness, Ian whipped out a different sword, this one more aerodynamic than Amy's, slimmer, but just as sharp, out of his toga. He stood up straight, his sandaled feet spread shoulder-width apart in the sand. A spark in his amber eyes seemed to light as he prepared himself to fight.

Finally, he spoke. "Let the duel begin."

The grass that swayed in the wind with small flowers, surrounded by buildings of Ancient Greece seemed to create a battlefield perfect for their anticipated duel. (Yes, Ancient Greece. One of the crazy creators of the stupid 39 clues had actually put one of the clues back in time.)

It was quiet for a moment. Amy stood straight and tall, her auburn hair flying in the wind. Ian was captivated by her subtle beauty. Damn the Cahill ancestors for hiding one of the clues in Ancient Greece. All he needed was to be distracted even more. One more failure and Isabel would put his head on a guillotine, then feed it to their pet piranhas back at home. Ian decided the fight called for more motivation.

He sighed. "Amy, Amy, Amy. Too scared to face your former, ah, let's say, paramour? Decided to give in to me after all?"

From inside his toga, he pulled out what he had given to her a few years ago, and she had willingly given back to him.

Amy's eyes hardened at the sight of the token. "Never."

It was silent, but full of strength, and Amy braced herself.

She took a deep breath and whispered, "En-garde."

She spun around Ian and tried to get him from the back, but he whipped around quickly, ready, and faced her head on yet again. She dashed at him, aiming her sword directly at him. Ian blocked her sword with hers, and for a few seconds, there was no sound, just Amy struggling against Ian, and Ian against Amy. Finally, Amy withdrew her sword, panting. She somersaulted between Ian's legs, a risky, yet deceptive mood. She stood right behind him, her sword at his neck.

"Surrender," she murmured in his ear.

Ian was ready. He dropped his sword, which clanged to his feet at the ground. He held up his hands, and when he felt Amy remove her sword from behind his neck and back into its sheath, he turned around at Amy, and smiled a dazzling grin. Quick as could be, he whipped out a twin of the same sword he had just dropped on the ground, and grasped it tightly.

Amy was shocked. "Katana!" she cried out. "You tricked me!" she yelled.

Ian felt his grin turning into a triumphant smirk. That was right. The samurai sword. He hadn't let all his knowledge he had gained from the clue in Japan go to waist. Scowling, Amy reached into her sheath to pull out her sword. Ian was faster, at her side, in a flash, his Katana sword a blur of silver at her neck.

"Don't even think about it." he hissed at her.

With one hand at the samurai sword, the other bent down to retrieve Amy's sword. She was defenseless. Amy was hit with a sudden idea, and without thinking, she kicked Ian, hard, in the knee, turned, and ran as hard as she could, the wind whispering in her ears as if to encourage her, and as if to help her on her way.

He yelped in pain. Ian bit his lip and told himself to get a grip. One more second of distraction and Amy would have the chance to disarm him and cause him to lose. I

Ian caught a sight of Amy, her auburn hair and Greek toga flying out behind her, as she made a mad dash for the ruins of the Parthenon. Ian was confused, yet amused at the same time. What did she think she would be able to achieve by running into the old ruin? She had no chance.

Ian gripped his Katana tightly and leaned over to pick up the one that had fallen onto the floor. He felt confident, and powerful, and he began to chase after the girl. It wasn't long until he had reached the Parthenon. He had long legs, and when he ran, he was able to travel great distances. He jogged gracefully up the steps and ran into the center of the ruins.

"Amy, Amy, Amy. Where are you hiding? Scared of big bad Ian?" he sneered, trying to lure Amy out of her hiding lair.

She stood perfectly still, her back against a ruined column. There was no way Ian could know where she was hiding, the same way that Amy admitted there was no way she could win this battle by force. Ian's back was facing her column.

Slowly, she peeled herself off from the massive structure and peered around to look at Ian's back. Taking the lightest of steps, she started running towards Ian, in the middle of the Parthenon. Sure it was crazy, but it was the only way she could ever win. Ian slowly turned around, shock written all over his face. But it was too late. Nothing was going to stop Amy. Nothing stood in her way.

Amy crashed into him. Ian's amber eyes were huge and astonished, his long lashes blinking down at her. In his moment of surprise, he had dropped both his swords.

"What exactly do you think you're doing?"he asked in irritation as he pulled out a tanned hand to steady her.

Amy didn't speak. There were no words for this. Taking a deep breath, she lifted her chin and met his eyes, their noses almost touching. Amy felt his breath caress the upper part of her lip. Parting her lips slightly, she leaned in towards him and the space between the two disappeared. She felt Ian's bewilderment, but he did not back away. Their lips touched, softly and lovingly. The kiss was hard, but soft, hot, yet cool, filled with passion, desire, and the sense of the forbidden, one that they could never be together. It started in a split second, but felt like forever. The sense engulfed her and she found herself wrapped up in him, body, heart, and soul. Amy was surprised. It felt like she belonged. It just felt right, and in this moment, all she wanted to do was to forget everything, and live in the moment.

So his mother was right. For once, he thought wryly. Out in the world, there just weren't many girls like Amy. He knew she was special. He knew that sparks would fly once this had happened. Yet he didn't know how he would respond to Amy's kiss. It brought up hidden desire. It brought up longing, that ached so much in Ian's chest that he didn't know how much he could take. He—it was wet. Was it raining? No, it wasn't. It was Amy. She was crying. Heavy, pearly, drops rolled down the side of her face. Ian broke away from the kiss.

"Amy? What's wrong?"his voice was soft, imploring her to tell him all her problems.

As if he could take them away. She looked up at the sky and wiped her face with her hands. The stars in the night sky winked backed down at her.

"Nothing." she cleared her throat. When she spoke again, it sounded more like herself, dry humor hidden inside her words.

"I was just thinking that Dan wouldn't approve." She shook her head, smiling.

"And you know, well, Dan-"

"Sensitive subject?" Ian guessed.

Amy sighed. "I just miss him so much. I never realized it until he was gone."

Ian looked at her. "You really miss him that much?"

He couldn't imagine missing Natalie if she left. All she ever did was act pretty, want to go shopping, and pay others a lot of money to dry-iron her Dolce & Gabbana clothing. Well, once in a while, Ian did like to dry-iron his Armani clothing too, he admitted to himself.

"Of course I miss him. He's my brother, and after my parents, well, died, we're the only thing we have left. Each other." Amy glanced at him shyly through her feminine lashes, her green eyes looking luminous and sorrowful.

"Well, if it means that much to you..." Ian scratched the back of his neck.

"You'd help me?" Amy looked at him appraisingly, her eyes watering again.

"Listen carefully, Amy," Ian began. "This riddle will help you find Dan. I don't actually know where he was hidden, 'cause Mom didn't tell me. This is all I can give to help you."

We tower over the people

We stand so strong and tall

We have faces of fame

And we have not eyes but can see all

We stand all together

To form a long chain

We link arms together

To mark territorial domain.

We stand undefeated

We will never lose

whoever goes uphill will eventually

end up falling downhill too.

Ian recited the poem that he had begged his memory so hard to remember. Now that it was over, he felt, like, well, nothing. He gave Amy all he could possibly give her. The question was, would she give him what she could? Amy recited it back and forth in her head. When she was finished, she turned towards him.

"You know, you've changed." she said.

"You have too," Ian replied.

"I mean, you've changed. For good, For the better." Amy tried to explain.

Ian laughed. "You have no idea."

He leaned in to kiss her, and when their lips met, they embraced in a long, tender and sweet kiss. It was beneath the twinkling sheet of sparkling stars that the two members of different branches-Lucian, and Madrigal, fell asleep, too occupied, but happy, in their own little bubble, to know what was going on in the rest of the world.

"Wake up, Amy. Wake up." the wind whispered.

Amy slowly stretched her arms, and sat up in the morning dawn.

The sky was an early purplish blue, orange and pink tinging the bottom of the sky. The clouds were gold and silver, and the sun seemed a bright orb in the midst.

She turned and looked at Ian. Amy figured she liked seeing Ian asleep. When he was, he seemed much younger and more innocent. He seemed at rest. Ian seemed happy. She giggled, then sighed, and reached into her toga to pull out her journal and a fuzzy pen. Amy ripped out a piece of paper and began to write.

When she was done, she breathed, a contented breath, and a single tear escaped down her cheek, plopping onto the paper. Amy smiled, and quietly got to her feet. It was there that she slowly walked away, and disappeared into the morning mist.

When Ian woke up, he was devastated. He found the letter Amy wrote, which had been placed next to him when he had been sleeping.

It explained, that even though she liked him, and knew he was a good guy and had changed, they could never be together. Strike one.

She had taken the clue Ian had given her and left him all alone so she could go find Dan. Strike two.

And, she decided not to give him the clue after all, because it was the 39 clues and no one could trust the other to play fair, even herself. This was written with a smiley face next to it. Strike three.

At the bottom of the letter, she had written, Catch me if you can. Ian sat down, his head between his knees, groaning. This was bad. Amy Cahill had stolen his weapon and taken her own clue away with it. Worst of all, Amy Cahill had stolen his heart. And it seemed as if she had no intention of giving it back.