Disclaimer: Not mine, sniff. For full disclaimer please see Act 1.
And In This Dream...
By Colleen
ACT 3
SCENE 1
Dwight Petty was a crotchety old man and he knew it. If fact he more than knew it he revelled in it. And working in a place like the Marionette Theatre gave one plenty of opportunity to work in any number of snarky comments a day.
Why the day just wouldn't be right if you didn't get to be a contrary bastard at least once or twice (or twenty) times a day.
Of course sometimes it was wasted. People like Raymond Palmer wouldn't even be worth zinging normally as they never really got it; however he left himself so wide open so many times a day that one just couldn't let something like that go.
At the very least it was good practice.
Actually the new girl, Yuffie was a fun one. Mostly because she could appreciate a good hit and gave as good as she got. Trying to one-upmanship her could keep the old security/door guard amused all day long.
"Good morning Mr. Petty."
Dwight felt his heart lodge in his throat and he attempted to choke breath around it as he spun to take in the tall, pale form of Vincent Valentine.
"Damn it man," he sputtered, "don't do that to me."
Vincent gave Dwight a lift of his eyebrow and an almost invisible smirk before granting him a little bow of contrition.
Dwight didn't believe that bow for a moment, and if he'd been Vincent he doubted he could have resisted sneaking up on people like that either. No in fact he knew he wouldn't be able to resist. A cat would have made more noise moving across the floor than Vincent did and on top of that the man could hold so still that you often didn't even know he was there until he said something.
"Can't you make a little noise before you come up on people?" Dwight asked, slightly annoyed.
Vincent appeared to think about it for a moment.
"No."
Dwight sighed and shook his head. "So what can I do for you Vincent? I haven't seen you around lately." No surprise there Dwight thought, he knew what lengths the actor usually went to attempting to avoid any new production of Hamlet.
"I was wondering about the new girl, Yuffie."
"What about her," Dwight asked, slightly surprised.
"I saw her perform a small piece yesterday, she's very good."
Dwight waited for the rest of it.
"I was wondering if anyone has been giving her a hard time."
"Not that I've notice," Dwight replied; now a little concerned. "Have you noticed something?"
"Perhaps," Vincent said his voice slightly uncertain. "However I am not sure of all of the facts, what can you tell me about her?"
"Not much, she's a lively kid, lots of fun, lots of energy. It is possible she could get on someone's nerves at the rate she can bounce of the walls." Dwight shook his head. "It's probably a damn good thing that she doesn't drink coffee, I'd hate see what she would look like with a full caffeine buzz on."
"Raymond's made a pass or two at her..." Dwight's sentence bled off as he noticed Vincent actually register a look that mixed distaste with anger. He cleared his throat and continued. "Parsons just avoids her, the manager treats her like a slightly wayward daughter and the rest of the cast and crew seems to like her well enough."
"Don't forget that she's the new girl here Vincent. There's bound to be a few practical jokes thrown her way in the next few weeks. This theatre wouldn't be this theatre if that didn't happen."
Vincent nodded but didn't really look convinced. "Just keep an eye on her if you can."
"Not a problem," Dwight assured him. "I wouldn't want anything happening to that kid, she's the most fun this theatre's seen in a few years."
The sudden opening of the actor's entrance drew the guard's attention and he exchanged a few sharp edged pleasantries with some of the extras before turning back to find Vincent gone.
He shook his head. "That man really needs to make some noise when he moves."
--------000--------
Yuffie bounced through the theatre door full of her afore mentioned energy. No way was she going to let some stupid practical joke get to her. Even if it was well done...scary...and she still hadn't figured out how they'd pulled it off.
"Kid, you waitin' for a bus or somethin'?" Yuffie yelped, metaphorically pealed herself off of the theatre ceiling and turned to give the smirking security guard her best number two glare.
"Old man, what do you think you're doing, sneaking up on people like that, you could give someone a heart attack?"
Dwight gave a snort. "Hate to break it to you kid but most people expect the door guard to actually be at the door."
"Humph!"
Dwight raised his eyebrows at her stunning lack of a really good comeback and watched as the young actress peered cautiously down the hall.
"Yuffie?"
"Ahhhhh!" Yuffie jumped, obviously once again surprised. Dwight just shook his head, not really sure he wanted to know what was going on.
"Kid, much as I like your company you really aught to get to your dressing room to get ready."
"Right, dressing room." Yuffie said as she swung her arms back and forward in an attempt to convey motion without actually moving.
"Kid?"
"Dressing room, right, got to go," she babbled out quickly before heading off down the hallway. Dwight watched her, a worried frown on his face. Whatever was going on he just hoped Vincent wasn't involved too much. Vincent getting involved tended to get people dead...or at very least seemed to involve dead people.
--------000--------
Yuffie carefully creaked open the door to her dressing room, wincing at the stereotypical horror movie noise it made. She darted a hand in and flipped on the light, breathing a sigh of relief to find her room clear of any strange phenomenon. Throwing a few furtive glances at her mirror she crossed the room and sat carefully at the table. Moving as if she were diffusing a bomb she went over her makeup, checking it for tampering while at the same time attempting to arrange the jumbled mess into a semblance of neatness.
She threw the pin away.
Feeling slightly better but still a bit paranoid Yuffie carefully went over her wigs and costumes. The hairpieces were fine.
The costumes were not.
Yuffie pulled four pins out of the dresses. Four pins that she probably wouldn't have normally noticed if she hadn't been searching every square inch of the fabric. They wouldn't have actually hurt her, probably. They just would have made for a very unpleasant night as she kept being poked and scratched and no doubt fidgeted the night away trying to figure out what was wrong with her dresses.
So, uncomfortable, but not dangerous. Therefore it may have just been a not very practical, practical joke.
Yuffie snapped her fingers as another thought occurred to her. The pins had probably been left in the costumes after her last fitting. Of course, that was it. Relieved Yuffie completely ignored the fact that she'd had no problems with her costumes during the dress rehearsal and all of her fittings had been completed by then.
SCENE 2
Ophelia gave her brother Laertes a hug, clearly missing him already.
"Farewell, Ophelia, and remember well what I have said to you."
"Tis in my memory locked, and you yourself shall keep the key of it," she reassured him.
Laertes reached out to give her shoulder a brotherly squeeze. "Farewell."
Their father, who had been watching the conversation between the two siblings rested his hands on his young daughters shoulders and ask her "What is't, Ophelia, he hath said to you?"
Ophelia looked back at him with a slight smile on her face. "So please you, something touching the Lord Hamlet."
Her father, Polonius shook his head. "Marry, well bethought! 'Tis told me he hath very oft of late given private time to you, and you yourself have of your audience been most free and bounteous. If it be so - as so 'tis put on me, and that in way of caution - I must tell you, you do not understand yourself so clearly as it behoves my daughter and your honour."
He looked at her as if he could pierce through her body to know the secrets of her soul. "What is between you? Give me up the truth."
Ophelia spoke with care. "He hath, my lord, of late made many tenders of his affection to me.
Polonius moved away from her, clearly upset. "Affection? Pooh! You speak like a green girl, unsifted in such perilous circumstance." Her father shook his head again at her nativity. "Do you believe his tenders, as you call them?" He asked his voice incredulous.
"I do not know, my lord, what I should think," the girl said, clearly upset now.
"Marry, I will teach you. Think yourself a baby that you have ta'en these tenders for true pay which are not sterling. Tender yourself more dearly or...not to crack the wind of the poor phrase, running it thus...you'll tender me a fool."
"My lord," Ophelia almost cried out the words, desperation and a touch of defiance in her speech. "He hath importuned me with love in honourable fashion."
"Ay, fashion you may call it. Go to, go to.
"And hath given countenance to his speech my lord, with almost all the holy vows of heaven."
As the scene played out the girls father would hear nothing of her pleas and he would wrest from her a promise despite the breaking of her heart to distance herself from the Lord Hamlet.
It was a good thing it was a play as most of the women and no few of the men had a serious desire to give Polonius an old fashioned whack up the side of the head and introduce Ophelia to something called women's lib.
SCENE 3
Yuffie headed back to her dressing room to calm down for a moment or two before she would be needed for her scene explaining to her father about Hamlet's sudden attack of insanity.
She never could understand why everyone was so surprised that the prince had seemed to go slightly mad. Given what had recently been happening in his life many stronger men might have done more than just feigned madness.
Yuffie let such thoughts pinball through her mind as she bounced down the corridor completely jazzed at having just been in front of an audience and actually made them believe that she was someone else, someone she wasn't.
Darkness caught at the edge of her eye as something twisted in on itself before vanishing from view. Something that had for a moment seemed to be both real and yet somehow formless as it faded into the shadows that spilled down the concrete and steel staircase that led up to the second level. Yuffie was up it in a flash, determined this time to catch whoever it was that was lurking around leaving dangerous and annoying little mementos about and completely forgetting her vow to avoid the second level for the foreseeable future.
The upper hallway proved to be empty and shuttered. Even the doors to the various departments, wardrobe, props, etc. were closed. Their bits and pieces were already arranged for the night and no one would likely need to be up here until after the play ended.
Yuffie tried a couple of the doors just in case but found them either locked or the rooms behind them empty of anything living. With a little shrug and a small amount of wondering if she had just been jumping at shadows Yuffie headed back down. She was on the third step from the top when she felt something cut across her ankle. She lost her balance and gravity attempted to pull her down the stairs the fast, hard way. She twisted her body towards the hand rail hoping to grab it while at the same time she pin wheeled her arms, fighting the fall. If she had been in street clothes she might have managed to save herself but the heavy gown she wore for her role allowed her little free movement and she went flying, head first down the stairs.
She clenched her eyes shut, expecting to make a very sudden and painful stop at the bottom. Instead she hit something much softer than the concrete pad at the base of the stairs; something that wrapped its arms around her as it stopped her forward motion. She shuddered slightly then opened her eyes to stare up into the deepest pair of red eyes she had ever seen. She'd never until that moment considered red to be a very sexy eye colour.
The man who'd caught her was about six feet tall and a few years older than her. Long black hair framed a pale porcelain completion that most women would have at least considered selling their souls for. A black suit covered a slim but obviously solid frame. Very solid, given how he had caught her and still remained standing when most men would have been hard pressed to keep their balance. Actually it was very surprising that they weren't both lying in a heap at the bottom of the stairs instead of standing there together with his arms wrapped around her.
Not that she was complaining, mind you.
"Ummm, hi?"
Her dark and handsome saviour gave her a minimal smile that still somehow managed to travel through her body and attempted to melt her stockings.
"Hi, me is Yuffie...I mean Yuffie is me." Why didn't the earth ever swallow you up at opportune moments?
"I would be Vincent," he replied, once again smiling that almost non-existent smile.
Yuffie nodded at him. "Vincent good," she kept nodding like a bobble head doll until her mind caught up with the situation.
"Wait a minute you shouldn't be back here," she said, pushing away from him slightly without actually leaving his arms.
He looked at her quizzically then made sure that she was firmly set on her feet before letting her go.
"And where should I be if not here?"
"Uhhhh."
Yuffie shook her head to try and clear the mind numbing effects Vincent seemed to be having on her.
"Only the cast and crew should be back here, unless you're a guest of the management?"
"No not a guest exactly," he said amusing himself with the annoyed expression that was slowly spreading its way across Yuffie's face.
"I'm actually with the theatre," he told her.
Yuffie looked at him like he had suddenly sprouted a third eye. "Since when?"
Vincent leaned up against the nearest wall. "For quite a while now, unfortunately I haven't been able to do more than the occasional bit part since the accident." His attention seemed to be caught by the black leather glove that Yuffie only now noticed on his left hand.
"Ummm?"
Another slight smile from Vincent. "Car accident, I spent a good while flat on my back after it. One of these days I hope to be able to fully return to acting but until then the management has been happy to let me watch a few rehearsals from the stalls and a few plays from the wings. Either way I'm glad I was here to catch you, a fall like that could have been a career ender."
Yuffie shuddered slightly at the thought.
"And I think your cue will be coming up shortly."
"What?" Yuffie gave a startled look off towards the stage. "Uh, sorry, got to go." She gathered her skirts and took off down the hall.
Vincent almost smiled again at the retreating figure, knowing she would have lots of time to make her cue. He frowned suddenly, his attention diverted to the top of the stairs. He crept up the treads slowly, eyes wide as he studied each step. It wasn't until he reached the third one from the top that he found two pieces of what appeared to be fishing line, one on each side of the step, as if it had been one piece that had been snapped in two. The ends had actually been tied to bolts that had been screwed tightly into the sides of the stairwell.
It didn't seem likely that Yuffie would have missed it on her way up so someone must have set it up while she was checking the rooms. He himself hadn't been here yet, his attention having been caught up with the scene between Hamlet and his father's ghost.
Damn fine time for him to suddenly take interest in this play again... Not.
--------000--------
Yuffie kept half an ear on the Queen's explanation of Ophelia's sudden death as she headed back to her dressing room. "The poor girl doesn't even get to die on stage," she said quietly to herself with a shake of her head.
"It wouldn't have worked," said a voice behind her.
Whirling, her heart half way to her throat Yuffie breathed a sigh of relief when she realized that it was just Vincent.
"You shouldn't sneak up on people like that," she told him in a stage whisper.
His lips curved up slightly in that almost smile of his.
Her forehead crinkled up in a little frown. "What?"
"I get that a lot."
She rolled her eyes but let it go. "What do you mean it wouldn't have worked?"
"Well it's always difficult to do water on stage and she did drown and besides the Queen is lying. If Ophelia had really died the way she said she did then there might have been a chance to call for help and save her. However, if she simple threw herself into the water with every intention of killing herself it would have been over fairly quickly."
Yuffie nodded, she'd always thought that it would have been interesting to play Ophelia's death out as it had been described, but the Queen tended to twist facts in an attempt to protect people. She had done the same for Hamlet earlier, when he had killed Polonius. Her words attempted to blame it on madness and misunderstanding and she proclaimed her sons regret at the incident when really he had only been upset that it hadn't been the king and had appeared generally amused by the whole thing.
"Do you have to play a corpse later or are they doing a closed casket for the graveyard scene?"
"Closed thank goodness, I'm not sure I could survive the entire scene without moving."
Vincent snorted slightly and Yuffie gave him a questioning glance.
"I always used to find playing dead to be one of the hardest things to do."
Yuffie's questioning glance narrowed a little. That didn't really make sense. There was something about Vincent, something very still, as if he could pick a position and hold it until he became dusty.
Vincent seemed to read her mind and he gave her a little bow. "The accident changed that, spend long enough not being able to move and stillness becomes almost second nature."
"Oh," she said, not really sure how to reply.
The sound of two gravediggers plying their trade travelled down the corridor from the stage. Vincent looked off in that direction, his expression slightly uncomfortable.
"I believe that I am going to go watch the scene," he told her. "However, I was wondering...if you would be interested in joining me for a late dinner after you're done here?"
Yuffie looked a little startled. It wasn't that she wasn't good looking herself but men who looked like Vincent just didn't seem to go for pixyish and it generally wasn't a good idea to date a man who was significantly better looking than you. Her last boyfriend had been better looking then her and that had ended...badly.
Of course who said it was a date. It was just a dinner, something quick and casual.
"Ok, but I'm buying," she told him.
He started to protest but she held up a hand to quiet him. "It's the least I can do for someone who saved me from serious injury... or worse."
He still didn't look particularly happy about it but he gave a nod and they quickly made plans for him to be waiting by her dressing room after the final curtain.
And Vincent was still in time for most of the graveyard scene.
SCENE 4
Hamlet and Horatio, walking side by side were brought up short by the strange combination of a grave digger singing happily as he performed his job.
They stopped to make comments about the fellows seeming indifference to the grimness of his job and to make guesses as to who the people who's bones and skulls that were dug out of the overfilled earth may have been.
Finally Hamlet asked the man who the new grave belonged to.
"Mine, sir." Was the brief reply the man made before continuing to dig and sing.
Hamlet shook his head with no little amusement. "I think it be thine indeed, for thou liest in't."
The gravedigger gave a little snort. "You lie out on't, sir, and therefore 'tis not yours." He told him with much conviction. "For my part, I do not lie in't, and yet it is mine."
"Thou dost lie in't, to be in't and say 'tis thine. "Tis for the dead, not for the quick: therefore thou liest."
The gravedigger smirked up at the young prince. "'Tis a quick lie, sir, 'twill away again from me to you."
"What man dost thou dig it for?"
"For no man, sir."
A little sigh, "What woman then?"
"For none neither."
Appearing something between perplexed and concussed Hamlet asked, "Who is to be buried in't?"
"One that was a woman, sir; but rest her soul, she's dead."
Vincent turned away from the scene, deciding to leave before they managed to drag poor Yorik out. Besides he could already feel the tendrils of a whopper of a headache tightening around his skull. His time would be better spent keeping an eye on Yuffie. Even though the end of the play wasn't very far away she struck him as the type that could find trouble in the safest of places in the shortest of times.
With one more glance back at Hamlet being made the fool of by the scene's clown he headed quietly away from the stage and picking out a shadowy corner that seemed to be made just for him he settled down to watch and wait.
