Title: Kismet
Author: Rose with Thorns
Rating: T for language, violence
Summary: Broken down busses and bribes lead to unexpected reunions. Seth's now on the hunt to bring the most unlikely person back to El Ray.Author's Note:
This is a gene splicing experiment between a sudden plot bunny and a stalker plot bunny that's been bothering me for a while. All Spanish translations are thanks to the Konfabulator's Translate Mini.Check the bottom for the Return of the Author's Notes…
She was not breathing. Breathing, he very well knew, was a vital and necessary part of living. Living meant not being dead. He would not allow Kate to be dead. He jumped into the coffin, squatting over her.
"Kate?" he slapped her cheek lightly, but it only caused her head to roll some more. No response. He was getting tired of this.
Shuffling to one side, he gingerly picked her up, arm under her knees and one around her shoulders, cradling her head as much as possible. It was a bit like holding an over-sized infant, not that he'd ever say that to her, of course.
While balancing on one foot, he kicked the lower half of the coffin lid shut, stepped up on it and was able to just reach the lip of the hole. He tried to place her up there with as much delicacy as possible, but found that it was a difficult task. She ended up on her side. Kate the Raggedy-Ann doll.
He knew what he was doing. First-aid was something that everyone knew. He hoisted himself over the edge and pulled her a bit away from the edge.
"Come on Kate."
He put a hand to her neck to feel for a pulse. It was weak, but there.
Back before bank robberies and murders and vampires, before his life had taken more interesting and dramatic turns for the worse, Seth had been a Boy Scout; he'd gone all the way to Eagle Scouts.
Her airway was clear. He titled Kate's head back slightly.
Her skin was clammy, heated beneath he surface, but chilled when he placed fingers on her nose.
He brought took a deep breath.
Seth had been awarded multiple awards for First Aid. He'd even but the youngest person to sit for the EMT test, and had passed. He'd never lost a patient.
Her chest didn't rise, like it was supposed to. He waited a few seconds.
"Come one, baby, come on."
He leaned back over.
Nothing happened again, and Seth felt those tiny little curls of despair start to grip him.
Until he looked down.
Corsets restrained breathing. They caused the creation of the fainting couch, a ridiculous looking piece of furniture that antique owners clamored for. Kate was wearing a shirt that caused her chest to end up extremely close to her chin while restricting breathing.
He always carried a knife in his boot. He had one now.
Seth, while ripping the bodice open, was reminding of a movie he'd seen recently.
Suddenly she stirred, arms failing out at him. Seth jerked back as she gagged, rolling over and coughing. He collapsed back in the dirt, relief washing over him.
She coughed a little and he got back up on his knees, eyeing the edge to make sure she was a safe distance away from it. Her limbs were intact. It was a positive sign. Her shorts were still on.
She sat up and gasped, wincing. Alarmed, he looked to see if he'd cut her, but then averted his glance. He pulled his jacket out of the dirt nearby and draped it over her shoulders.
They stayed in the dirt for a while. A few cars passed, acting like New Yorkers instead of the small-town, caring people. He glanced up at her face.
There was a gash, a thick one. She should probably be looked at. He touched her shoulder lightly.
Kate jumped, startled, and her unfocused eyes met his. "Seth?" she asked.
She probably did have a concussion. He nodded. "Yeah."
Her eyelids drooped and she mumbled something.
"Alright. Time to get you back."
Her lifted her like he had before, and she didn't protest. If he held her too long she might notice him shaking. Seth managed to open his passenger car door, and place her in lightly. Her eyes were closed.
Keep her awake. It was his new mantra.
"Kate." A small slap on the cheek and her eyes were open again. "Babe, just focus on me, okay? I'm going to get you back to your friends. Nina's going to be happy to see you."
"I know Nina."
He always kept extra clothes in the back of the car, so he pulled out an old, once-white tee-shirt, sniffed to make sure it was still alright to wear, and brought it around. Helping her put it on was an awkward thing, since her head seemed to heavy for her and he did most of the work, trying to focus on her face, her hands, her shoulders…and nothing more. She mumbled something as he buckled her in.
Seth didn't try to make sense of it, but jogged around to the other side of the car and started the car. He pulled the car around and accelerated, leaving the shovel and the coffin behind, dust from his tires swirling in thick clouds. The jerky wrapper flapped in the dirt tossed up from the car.
Throughout the drive, he watched as her eyes would droop, and he'd yell at her, or grab her hand. He didn't want to have to slap her again. They were driving past the gates soon. She turned.
"Hello," she breathed. It was small and whispery, as if she'd said 'five more minutes, mom'. "Do I know you?"
He turned to face front, and made the left turn. He caught his reflection for the smallest of moments in his rearview mirror. He'd changed. The eyes that looked back at him were wild; he'd let the stubble grow to a beard long before the day's events, and his teeth were stained from nicotine. Seth couldn't figure out how she'd ever recognized him in the first place.
"No, you don't. I'm Mike."
She was already trying to fall asleep again. He called her name loudly.
He took her to a doc in the box down the road from the hotel, the nicest one in town. She did have a concussion, they said, but only a minor one. And she was extremely dehydrated.
There were stares as he exited the tiny doctor's office, half carrying the girl to the car. Kate was slightly more awake, but exhausted from what had happened. The drive over to the hotel was silent; she slumped against the window, but stayed awake, blinking as the streets passed.
Nina ran at the car, leaving the safety of the pool area, lit by the lights. Seth looked up, surprised. The day passed quicker than he'd ever remembered it to in the past. Days in El Ray were excruciatingly long.
"Kate!" she screeched, skidding to a halt in the gravel parking lot. She wrenched open the passenger door and the girl nearly fell out. She got to her feet, shakily.
"Hey," she managed weakly, as she was pulled into a hug. The others followed and the woman he'd spoken with earlier came to see him.
"Is she-"
"I took her to a doctors. They said she's dehydrated and has a concussion. So you know what goes along with that…"
The woman, casting a matronly glance at the girls, turned back to him. "I don't think I could ever thank you enough for this," she said quietly.
Seth shrugged. "I couldn't leave some poor kid out there." It would be better not to explain details. Leave that up to Kate. "And don't worry about the money, either. It's all taken care of."
That, of course, was the wrong thing to say. "Oh, the police will-" He held up his hands. He'd never been able to understand these type of women. The one's with Danielle Steele books by the hundreds and the same number in cats, but nary a man in sight.
"I promise you. It's no big deal." No big deal to nearly have a heart attack, resuscitate Kate…"Just call me when she feels a little more awake. Want to make sure she's okay, and everything."
"Don't leave us!" cried Nina, and Kate finally turned around. Realization dawning on her face caused her tired eyes to open wider. Her mouth, cracked, and her voice, nearly shot, formed his name silently, in a question.
The older woman turned to her, her lips pursing in displeasure.
Kate swallowed and licked her lips. "They might come back, Ms. Schafer. If he's here at least…"
Ms. Schafer, now with a name, cast a glance in his direction, purposely empty of any emotion. She was in a delicate spot. She had no authority to keep him there, he'd volunteered out of the kindness of his heart to save her student in the first place; but at the same time, she knew that there was nothing to stop those men from returning.
He shrugged. "It's not really a trouble. I just have to open my club up and then I can come back." He needed to make sure Kate was alright. Shooting Johnny in the nether regions could wait until later.
One girl in the group eyed him with new appreciation. Most girls did when they found out he was the club owner. He gave a brief goodbye to the group before leaving.
"Seth?"
It was dark out, and the pool left a blue-tint on anything left near it. Like Seth, his chin against his chest. When she said it a bit louder, his plastic patio chair ended back on its four legs.
"Oh," he said sleepily, rubbing his face over. "Hey."
She quietly pulled a chair up to his and sat on her hands. Better than pulling at the hem of her shorts or the tee-shirt she was wearing. She kicked a spare stone, and it skidded to the edge of the pool.
"Not tired?" he asked finally. His voice jarred the silence. She nodded.
"I could sleep for a week," she said sheepishly. "But I thought that saying 'thank you' was of a bit more of importance. So…thank you." What happened? Years of school, of debate club, and speeches went out the window. She was fifteen again, awkward in the company of a dark-suited, tattooed man she found too interesting to leave alone.
"For you, doll, anytime." It lacked its usual vibrancy. She settled back into the seat and stared at the water, like he was. "So..?"
"So what?"
"It's been-what?-four years? Nearly five? What have you done with yourself? Cause' you can draw conclusions about what I've done."
She shrugged. The conversation was surreal. But what could you really talk about with a guy who helped you slay vampires back then and had just saved your life. "I went back. Got to the border and went to the police." She hurried on as he sat up straighter in his chair. "Told them I saw you killed in some sort of local territory thing, and that everyone else ended up dead, too. I didn't know if they'd believe it, but they did. I guess they chalked it up to trauma. Finished high school. Graduated. Ended up at Boston College…" she shrugged.
"Good for you." He turned when he realized how short it had come out, eyes widening. "I mean it. I knew you were smart. Got any idea what you wanna do afterwards?"
She flushed. Yes, actually… "Not really, yet."
The silence took back over, and they watched a blow up doll someone had left and no one had wanted to touch float idly nearby. Kate marveled how comfortable a silence it was. She settled back, wrapping her hands up in her long sleeves and pulling up her legs.
"Sorry about your shirt."
She turned, not remembered what he was talking about. Oh, what did happen to her shirt? "It's no big deal…that reminds me, I'll go get yours from my-" she started to get up, but a strong, warm hand grabbed her forearm.
"It's no big deal, actually. But in return, I'm draggin' you and the girls to lunch tomorrow, okay? There's this great place where you can actually drink the water and everything."
She laughed, one of those short, breathy nervous ones.
"So you own a club?" she asked, trying to keep the conversation going. Give her a Dean, a foreign exchange student, a leading doctor in any field, and she'd be able to talk as though they were the greatest of friends, so why couldn't she do that with him?
"Yeah, nothing really big, but a lot of people like it. Summer is when it thrives, but the rest of the year we depend on filthy rich bastards who've retired excruciatingly young to keep it open. We've got some celebrities who come." He winched. "I, unfortunately, was one of the first people to have to witness the Moore-on-Kutcher extreme PDA…not what I wanna see, thank you very much."
This made her laugh harder. Kate had forgotten his sense of humor. Probably because most of it had surfaced during the kidnapping or at the bar. But if he owned a club with famous clientele... "Wait, don't you have photographs taken in there? You never know where those are going to end up!"
"And that's why we have a no photography rule. People are everything but patted down at the door. And we have all of the dancers trained to know what to look for. There's cameras everywhere, too. I hired a PR guy, too, so I never have to do interviews."
"I'm glad to see that you don't use your powers for evil anymore…'Mikey'". He winced.
"I know, I know," he groaned.
"I just can't see you as a Mikey," she said quietly, studying him closely. He hadn't shaved in a very long time, and even if gruff and tan worked very well on him, as she remembered, he still was pushing it a little too far. Then again, she was known for having a closet full great clothes, but showing up to early classes or the library in pajamas and a ratty pony tail, pea-coat thrown on with a big scarf in an attempt to cover it. It had taken her a while to even learn how to do makeup.
But looking back over at him, his tattoo poking a little out of the top of his open collar, she simply couldn't see him as anything but Seth Gecko.
"You look like shit, babe," he said, jarring her from her thoughts. As derogatory as that may have sounded out of context, there was something soft in his voice, something-caring? "Go get some sleep, okay? I called the doc back to make sure if it was alright, and he said it was. We'll talk more tomorrow."
She nodded, and got up from her chair, dragging it back to its original spot. He appeared to be watching the doll quietly, but she caught him looking out of the corner of his eye. She walked past him to the orange, rusty stairs up to her room. Suddenly, she felt too tall, too lanky, too klutzy, under his gaze. She muttered a goodnight and flew up the stairs, tripping on one. Kate didn't turn around to see if he noticed.
A.N.
"Schafer" comes from Middle High German, and means shepard….
Kudos to Travis Tea. Now, with his help, it's been proven that teens who've written a book about a girl no one likes or understands but has magical abilities or becomes the most beautifulist girl in the world who wouldn't usually ever have a chance of getting their books published have a hope. If you want to see what I mean, check out http/ Haven't gotten your daily supply of Sue-riffic bad grammar? Read the book and laugh 'til you pee.
Anyone seen T.B.'s Willy Wonka? Loved it, but my uncontrollable urge to maul Johnny Depp that I've had since nearly infancy is, well, controllable. Digged the purpled gloves, though.
Also, what decent, self-respecting teenager who writes poetry and is editor of the angst-illicious school arts magazine does not own a copy of something Linkin Park? Well me, until I bought a copy of a string quartet tribute to them, squelching the problem between buying a chamber music CD or one of LP's. Next on list, the David Bowie tribute, and then Bjork, and then Coldplay…
Cloudburst2000: (Gestures to chapter) And I adore my Seth, too. Thanks for all the nice praise.
Victimlesskiller: Err..nice name there…thanks. Hopefully that problem WILL be solved!
Animus Patronus: Sorry about the wait. Great name, btw. Read HBP yet? (whimpers and squeezes her Snarky !Snape doll)…
Chibi1309: (cowers) I'M SORRY! Lol. I like your secret. You're soooo sweet.
Angela: I agree, I better…good luck with your story. If you need help leave a review…and no, you don't suck.
SpadesJade: How's this chappy, bein' all cliffy free? I am NOT mean…well, I never…(huffs)…I liked the cows, too.
Zan189: Reviewing, thank you for…