Two Slayers— One Heart (Version 3.0): Part 7

Elaine:

Okay, definite confession. I dreamed about Rose that night.

No surprise, right? Really good dreams! Good and… interesting… enough, that I would have liked to lie in bed for maybe half an hour just remembering them. Yeah, I'm a romantic— but anyone would want to replay dreams like that!

But I figured I was going to have to hurry, if I wanted to avoid being late to school. Not hurry as much as usual, maybe, because of that whole run-for-miles-without-tiring thing, but hurry just the same.

I think I managed to get dressed, wash my face, and start gathering my stuff before I ever glanced at a clock. Which meant, when I saw it wasn't even six o'clock yet, I was way too awake to even think of laying back down.

Day-ammmmn…!

I shook my head, wondering what had gotten into me. I normally didn't wake up until six thirty— I never actually got up until quarter 'til. I only wondered for a minute though, before thinking, Oh. Yeah. Superpowers got into me. I was obviously going to need less sleep.

As it was, I was full of energy… and had nothing to do. I went downstairs and hesitated, wondering whether I should eat… then shook my head and went out the back door.

And I danced.

For almost a full hour, probably, I danced. I went through every move I'd learned, every step— then tried things I'd only ever seen. Everything was easy. I knew I was moving gracefully, and executing the movements perfectly. I showed off to myself, actually doing ballet; I pretended I had a partner and did a tango; I tried a strange, rhythmic mix of tap and Riverdance; I think I actually did some breakdancing somewhere in there. I turned cartwheels and did flips.

What I was doing was so varied— so frenzied— most any teacher in the world would have thrown up her hands and told me to get serious. But I freely acknowledge here: I wasn't dancing, per se, as much as I was showing. I was happy, and I turned my joy into movements for the world to see.

After I calmed down, I went inside to bathe. Then I popped a bagel in the toaster… and hesitated. I could tell already that that wasn't going to be enough. So while that toasted, I pulled out a big bowl and had cereal— then slathered the finished bagel with jelly, and scarfed that down. Then I had a glass of milk, followed (after another moment's hesitation) by a glass of orange-strawberry-banana juice. Then I was done, to my own mild relief.

Besides my lunch money, I also brown-bagged it that day— taking a container of leftover spaghetti, a canteen of some more juice, and a banana. I had a feeling I'd be eating a big lunch, too!

I ran to school. The whole way. I didn't get tired, or sweaty, or even out of breath. When I walked into the library, Kimber did a double-take. (She always showed up early to mess around in the most quiet building in the school. She may not seem it, but she's really into books and the 'Net— she always used the mornings to do some light reading, research, and surfing.)

"Whoa, Elaine. You're here early. You go all insomniac or what?"

I shook my head. "No. You know the bully-bench-pressing thing? I think the no-sleep thing is connected. I needed about five, six hours, I guess."

Kimber didn't grin, which meant I didn't even have to ask The Question. "That's cool. Wish I had good news to report. The axe-thing? I got nothing. I'm still looking, but you know, just having axe with runes to look for… not all that helpful. Sorry," she added. She didn't look ready to kick herself, she looked like she had been for a couple hours.

"No big," I assured her, stretching out in my seat and grinning. "Nothing— repeat nothing— could make this a bad day."

I felt completely relaxed and content, and I must have looked it. Kimber gave me an I'm your best friend so you spill all NOW look— then her face lit up. "Elaine! You're in love!"

I started giggling, albeit a little uneasily. "You sure you didn't get any superpowers? Like mindreading, or something?"

"Nah, I'm just your best bud." She didn't stop grinning at me. "Come on, Elaine— what's her name?"

"Rose Killian," I said promptly. "She goes to Bloomington High. She's a martial artist, and— God! I almost forgot!" I gave myself a light smack in the forehead. "She's got these powers, too."

Kimber's jaw dropped. "You're shitting me?"

"No way. Look . . ."

So I explained. It took a while, because I was determined not to leave out the slightest detail.

When I was done, Kimber was giving me this unreadable look. "Strong and tough and fast," she muttered. "And you two kicked vampiric ass? And then fell in love, immediately, just like that?

"Elaine, if this wasn't real— it'd be a really bad B-movie!"

I cracked up. After a second, so did she… and we were both still laughing when the bell rang.

Kimber stood up. "Let's go, Miss Vampire Killer. You know," she added casually, "I'm going to have to meet your girlfriend. So I can scope her out— oops, I mean make friends . . ."

I laughed again. "Just like you, Kimber."

"Hey, I'm not letting just anyone make off— or make out— with my Elaine."

I still laughed, but I blushed that time, too. My first lesbian experience had been with Kimber. Then came the whole getting caught thing, and we cooled it off. It was a lot more relaxed after that, though she could still make me blush crimson sometimes— and vice-versa!

"All right, all right," she said, seeing my expression. "Laying off, now. I don't want you getting all killer-dancer on me . . ."

We parted ways.

That day simultaneously sped by and lasted an hour past forever. When the bell rang, I zoomed out— sparing a glance at Kimber, who raised her eyebrows, grinned, and winked at me. I would have gotten her back for that— somehow— but I was in a total hurry and she knew it.

Rose:

I woke up on Friday morning with my head full of Elaine. I'd dreamed about her a good deal the night before, along with other, not-bad-but-not-near-that-nice dreams.

I'm not a morning person, usually, but that day, I woke up full of energy. I felt ready to wrestle a platoon, and then I realized something.

My alarm hadn't gone off.

I hadn't gotten up before my alarm clock… well, ever, that I could recall. I looked at the clock, and gaped. It was only 5:15 in the morning! And I was as awake and invigorated like it was Saturday and I'd slept 'til noon.

"Okay, now that can't be a side effect of being in love," I muttered. "So it has to be the super powers. I need less sleep, I guess."

I knew from how I felt that there was no point in laying back down to wait for the alarm to go off at seven. I wouldn't sleep. I wouldn't be able to read. I needed to do something— and I figured out what it should be while I pulled on sweats and a sports bra.

Going down through the house to get outside would risk waking up Mom or the Evil Attorney. And I didn't want that, so I slipped out on my balcony and looked at the branches on the big old oak that shaded it much of the day.

There was a branch almost level with the balcony floor. It almost touched the balcony, too, but it wouldn't be sturdy enough to hold me until at least six feet closer to the trunk, and eight feet would be safer.

I was stronger than ever. Last night, without a running start, I'd jumped a good five feet straight into the air. My balance was fantastic, and I had some tumbling skills, learned with my Kung Fu, at my disposal.

I grinned. Super powers are fun!

I opened the balcony doors then stood at the foot of my bed. I'd have almost thirty feet to build up enough speed, that should be plenty.

I ran at the balcony railing opposite my target branch, jumped, pushed with my hands as my body jackknifed into the air, flipped—

— and landed neatly on the branch I was aiming for, a good ten feet away from my balcony railing. My feet were solid under me, my balance was fine, and I didn't have to grab anything with my hands to help me out.

"Tarzan, eat your heart out!" I climbed down the tree easily, mostly step and drop from limb to limb, dropping the last eight feet to the ground and absorbing the impact with bent knees.

Then, for an hour and a half, I did my Kung Fu forms. All of them. I did the simple ones slowly, to warm up, then started going faster and more aggressively as I progressed into the harder forms.

It felt wonderful! All this speed and power and grace— I felt like all the work I'd done over the last three years had finally paid off, all at once, instead of slowly and steadily. And maybe paid off with interest, even.

I was interrupted by a voice saying in a scandalized tone, "Rose Killian! What are you doing out here this early?"

I flowed into a jumping, spinning kick that emulates a tiger raking with it's back claws, and landed facing my Mom, who was standing at the back door into the kitchen, holding a spatula in her hand.

"My forms, Mom," I said. "My red sash test is this Friday, remember?"

"I think you must really want that sash," Mom said. "I haven't seen you get out of bed before seven since you were five, and you and your father had to be up and in front of the TV at seven on Saturdays to catch the re-runs of Underdog."

I nodded, and said, "Bet your Irish bootie I want that sash! And I'm going to get it, too."

"I watched for a couple of minutes, before I came out," Mom said. "And I have to tell you, Rose… I don't know much about martial arts, maybe, but I know that looked just plain wonderful. You're right. You'll get it, this time."

I was so busy glowing at the compliment that I almost missed Mom asking if I wanted a "real" breakfast this morning, or if I'd be doing my usual Pop-Tarts.

"Real breakfast, please!" I said, shocking my mother yet again. "Whatever you're fixing, and lots of it!"

"Okay, that's it," Mom said, laughing softly. "You're up before I am, exercising. You want a real breakfast. I can take a hint!

"No matter what you do, from now on we don't even threaten to take away your Kung Fu lessons!"

I laughed with her, and said, "One more form, Mom, then I'm gonna shower quick and come down for food."

"Can I watch?"

I nodded, and then I did the one form I hadn't done yet, the hardest of all the forms that would be on my test. I did it at combat speed, as I would have to for the test. Short, subtle handwork, close-range foot work (the short, practical kicks you rarely see in the movies), and deceptively slow deflection blocks slowly blended into more violent— and flashy, I guess— attacks. The punches became devious, flowing from one place to another that they shouldn't have been able to hit, given their starting points. Short, choppy defensive kicks became higher, longer, more powerful kicks. Spinning moves, aerial moves, aerial spinning moves, all these crept in, until I was moving as much in the air as on the ground. I finished the form with a series of rapid-fire fore and backhand punches and then a jumping, spinning kick that landed me in the most basic stance of my school's Tiger form of Kung Fu, legs wide, left leg in front of right, slightly cocked, weight on my right heel, hands up and open, looking ready to claw….

I did it perfectly— and I wowed my Mom completely.

Mom was staring at me when I finished, her mouth slightly open, her eyes unblinking.

"Mom?" I said. "You might want to close your mouth, before something flies in…."

"Rose that was amazing!" Mom said. "I had no idea you could— weren't you having trouble with your forms, just a couple of weeks ago?"

"I was," I admitted. "I had some sort of block, I guess. Or something. It's gone now— that's all that matters."

"It's gone, all right." Mom looked at me with new respect as I stepped past her into the kitchen. "And not only are we not threatening to take away your lessons any more, you will never again hear me complain about the cost."

"Oh come on, Mom— "

"No, Rose, I'm serious," Mom said. "I had no idea that you could be so… well, Rose, you know you're a beautiful girl, right?"

"I know," I said, grinning. "I got lucky, and I look like you."

"Flatterer," Mom said, smiling. "And thank you.

"But… you know you're beautiful, but when you do… what you just did, you go past beautiful. You… Rose, I felt like I feel when I'm watching ballet."

I could only stare. Mom loves ballet, more than anything. (Which was one reason I was so sure she'd like Elaine. Mom loves ballet most— but loves dancing, period!) For her to compare what I had just done to ballet was like having her tell me a story for school was up there with something written by Tolkien!

"Wow," I said in a small voice. "Mom I… thank you! I'd hug you, but I'm all sweaty, and— "

Mom hugged me. "Never mind the sweat, I haven't had a shower yet either. That was beautiful, Rose, and I thank you for letting me watch it.

"Are you allowed to have guests at your testing?"

My heart skipped a beat. "Yes, ma'am. Some of it will be boring, the recitations of the history and stuff, but if you want to go…?"

"I do," Mom said firmly. "I want to see more of that!"

I couldn't talk even, so I just hugged her again. She hugged back hard, and we stood like that 'til we heard Jerry coming up the stairs from the bottom floor. (His and Mom's bedroom was down there, a big study for him, a big studio/workroom for Mom, and a rec room where they sometimes had small parties.)

Mom let me go, and I went off to shower before having to speak to Jerry. I was having a good morning, after all— why spoil it?

I showered and dressed for school— only four more days, the last day was Wednesday, unless you had make-up exams or something— and went back downstairs. Jerry and Laurie were sitting down at the table, both eating pancakes and bacon. Mom turned around as I came in and handed me a plate with four big, fluffy pancakes and what looked like a ton of bacon on it.

"Too much?" she asked, as I came in.

"Nope," I said. "Looks like maybe enough."

Mom rolled her eyes in disbelief, but handed me the plate and a glass of orange-pineapple juice.

I ate everything on the plate in ten minutes, and was still hungry. Mom blinked a couple of times when I got up and dropped a couple of apple Pop-Tarts in the toaster, but didn't say anything. I scarfed my Pop-Tarts down, chasing them with a big glass of milk, and finally felt like I'd had enough.

"I'm gonna walk to school today," I said. "So I'd better get going.

"Mom, can I have a friend over after school? Her name's Elaine, you haven't met her yet. She's gonna come over here, then come down and watch my Kung Fu lessons, if that's okay with you?"

"That's fine, dear," Mom said. "Finals start tomorrow, yes?"

"Yeah," I said. "It's my easy day. English, American History, Typing II. Tomorrow night is study-intensive night, cause Friday is Bio, Comp Sci… and Algebra II. Can Brian come over tomorrow after school? He's actually been helping with the Algebra stuff. But he'd need a ride home, when we're done."

"Absolutely," Mom said. "I'll make a pork roast, he loved that the first time he had it. And If he can get you an A in Algebra, I'll drive him to Chicago."

"I'll pay for the gas," I muttered. "I hate math!"

"If you pass this, you don't have to take more," Mom said. "That will be all three math credits you need."

(I'd gotten dual credit for Algebra I in the eighth grade, it had counted as both middle school and high school credit, and taken Geometry my freshman year.)

"Believe me, I want the A," I said. "Thanks, Mom. Bye, everybody."

Mom blew me a kiss, Laurie gave me a grin and a wave, and Jerry shook his paper at me. I left by the side door, ran down the slope to Country Club Place, and took off at a trot along the edge of the golf course across the street.

I ran to school and never quite broke a sweat. I wasn't sprinting, but I went faster than a jog, and still… no sweat stains.

Have I mentioned that I love having super powers?

I got to the school with twenty minutes before classes started at eight-thirty. My buddy Brian was just getting off of the bus out front, he lived way out on the east edge of town.

"Hey, Rose," Brian called. He came over and half-hugged me, easy cause he's only an inch taller than me, and grinned around the bruising on the left side of his face. He's so pale and blond and fine boned— even his eyes are a very pale grey— that the bruising looked absolutely awful. "Did you figure out which ghost is possessing you?"

I looked blank for a second, before remembering his joke about wanting to know if it was the ghost of Bruce Lee or his son Brandon that had possessed me when I trashed Kurt Belden the day before. "Oh, no, I didn't. But… Brian, come with me. I need to show you something."

"Shweetheart," Brian said in a really good Humphrey Bogart impersonation, "I'd follow you anywhere."

I laughed and led the way out the back of the building and over behind the bus garage. There was a big open area back here, and Brian and I often came back here. We'd talk, or study, or I'd try my forms while he watched.

"Watch this," I said.

I did the last form I'd be called on to do Friday night, the one that had so totally wowed my Mom, and I did it just as well, despite the not-quite-so-comfortable clothes I had on for school.

"Holy crow!" Brian said. "Rose, that was in-freaking-credible! How did you learn that right so fast!"

"That's what I wanted to tell you about," I said. "Or part of it. There's one more thing I need to show you, though."

"If it's half that cool, I'm gonna holy SHIT!"

Brian Keller stared at me with a look of mixed amazement, shock and wonder on his face.

There was a lawn mower out here, a BIG one, that the school used. I mean WAY big, with like an eight-foot-across cutting area.

I stood at the back of the mower, holding the back end off of the ground without much strain at all— but my feet were sinking slowly into the ground as all that weight was supported on a much smaller area.

I lowered the mower back down, and turned to look at my friend.

"Are you gonna turn green, now?" Brian asked. "Or maybe start shooting webs from your wrists? Can you fly?"

"No, no and no," I said. "I'm still me, Bri. But… I'm really strong now. And coordinated as all Hell, and pretty tough, too."

"How?"

So I told him, starting while we were sitting there, finishing as we walked to homeroom after the bell went off.

"Man," he said when I finished. "And you promptly meet another girl just like you? And you guys hook up?

"How come this stuff never happens to me!"

"You weren't born Irish," I said, and grinned. We walked into homeroom and sat down in the back corner while the teacher did a headcount. "Brian, you better not think I don't know how incredibly lucky I've been. I do know— and I'm grateful to those 'Powers That Be' that Daddy mentioned.

"And as soon as I figure out exactly what I'm supposed to be doing, I'm going to do the job they gave me these powers for."

"You know," Brian said, "if I can help somehow— Rose, you know I'm right there, right?"

"I know. You're my best friend, Brian." I socked him lightly in the shoulder. "And I've been thinking… you know more about hacking and phreaking than I even could learn. Someday, that may come in handy, you know? And if I need it— you bet your last USB port I'll be right there asking for your help."

"Cool," Brian said. "Hey, did you get super-smart, too?"

"No, I didn't," I said. "I'm still gonna need a study-buddy tomorrow night. You come home with me, we feed you, and Mom will take you home when we're done. Cool?"

"Very," Brian agreed. "Your mom… I'm glad she didn't go all rich and snobby, and hire a cook, on top of you guys' maid. Your mom can cook!"

I laughed at his eagerness to eat my Mom's cooking, and the bell rang for first hour.

The day flew by. In every class, we were finished with learning new stuff, and were into reviewing for finals, which I don't find boring, cause I'm a geek, and really like most of my classes.

PE was… interesting.

Kurt Belden didn't dress out. He sat on the edge of the bleachers in jeans and a sports shirt, and watched glumly as the rest of us lined up. He was sporting a big old shiner, from my last set of attacks on him, and I could see the great big welt and long scratch on his right hand, from where I'd smacked him with my foil to disarm him. He looked at me and shot me the finger, after making sure that Coach wasn't looking. I smiled and waved cheerfully, causing his expression to get even darker.

"Miss Killian," Coach Phelps said in a very controlled voice, "You are excused. You'll be counted as here, and no penalty will be assessed to your grade. You can either go to the library and study, or join the freshmen in the pool— I've already cleared it with Coach Lund, she knows you might be coming."

Last day of PE, and I was out of it? Good deal, but….

I got out of line, and went up to Coach Phelps, who looked at me like I was dirt.

"Coach," I said slowly, "I'm sorry about yesterday. I didn't mean to hit you, but you totally surprised me. And the rest… I was making sure I didn't get thrown out, is all.

"I know you've got no reason at all to like me, and I can't say as I blame you for that— but I'd like to go out for fencing again next year, and I won't get much chance to practice over the summer. Could I maybe stay in here, and work solo? I'll stay off to the side, and be quiet."

I could see Coach Phelps looking at me, see him trying to decide. He knew I didn't have to apologize to him at all, and he wasn't expecting it. So I played my last card.

"I know Miss Heller would appreciate it."

Coach blinked at that. Miss Heller was the school's art teacher— and sponsor of and coach for the fencing team. She'd actually gone to the Olympics in 1996, then finished school and gotten into teaching. Only because we had a former Olympic fencer at our school did we even have a fencing team.

Lydia Heller was a total babe, too. And Coach had a serious thing for her.

Coach didn't answer, just walked over and opened the equipment locker for me. He hesitated for a second, then said, "Just stay out of the way and we're fine, Killian."

"Thanks, Coach," I said. Then I grabbed my foil, and began working, practicing, finding that, just like my Kung Fu, this had all come together at once.

Coach Phelps watched some. And after a while, he called another student who was sitting out— Steph Williams, she had a broken wrist and was in a cast for another week or two yet— over, and sent her out.

Steph came back leading Miss Heller.

My fencing coach watched for a few minutes without comment, then said, "Stop, please."

I did as she asked.

"Jacket and mask," Miss Heller said, heading for the locker and grabbing those items herself, as well as a foil.

Wordlessly, I did as I was asked. It took Miss Heller a little longer than it did me, as she had a jacket from her outfit to get rid of, before she could put on her fencing jacket. That, and she has this incredible mane of thick, wavy blond hair to take care of, too.

(I crushed on Miss Heller so hard earlier in the year that she actually had to take me aside and talk to me, because I was being way too obvious. But she was sweet about it, and as gentle as she could be, and now I've got Elaine, so I was okay. Finally.)

When we were dressed in jackets and masks, Miss Heller said, "We will have to be careful, Rose. No padding below the waist. Parry up or to the side, when you can."

"Yes, ma'am."

"En garde."

My foil came up, and we saluted each other with the precision of robots.

"Fence!"

Miss Keller came in fast, her foil streaking for the red, heart-shaped patch sewn to my fencing jacket— and I parried and riposted just as fast as she'd attacked. She parried, and backed off a half a step, then did a beat-and-lunge, which I riposted again, and then slid a full step back and let her come to me again.

She did, and we fenced like demons for maybe three minutes, before she finally got past my guard with a sneaky little parry-turned-feint-turned-thrust.

"Touché!" I called, and flung my blade up in salute. I whipped off my mask, then, and started to shake Miss Heller's hand— and found her hugging me, instead. (Remember that crush I'd had? There was enough of it left still that I relished that hug!)

"Rose," Miss Heller panted, gulping air like she'd just run a marathon, "I haven't had a workout like that since 1996! Well worth missing a planning period for! Girl, what happened?"

"I guess I had some sort of block," I said. I didn't like lying, but what else could I do? "I guess it's gone now."

"I guess so!" Miss Heller said, stripping off her fencing jacket. "You are coming out for the team next year, right?"

"I want to," I said. "And I can't see anything that would stop me."

"You want private lessons over the summer, you e-mail me," Miss Heller said. "Okay?"

"Yes, Miss Heller," I said, grinning like a fool. "I will."

The bell rang, then, and there was a rush for the showers. I started to put away my fencing stuff, but Coach Phelps stopped me.

"You go on and shower, Rose," Coach said. "And you get to class, Lydia. I'll take care of this stuff."

"Thanks, Coach!" I said, unbelieving. Then Miss Heller spoke, and I got why he was being so nice all of the sudden.

"Yes, thank you, Lee," Miss Phelps said. "And thank you very much for sending for me!"

"Not a problem," Coach said, and I could hear the grin in his voice from clear over by the door to the girls locker room. "Frankly, I was impressed, and I don't know that much about fencing. Yesterday she looked good, but— yesterday it might have been adrenaline. I saw today, and I thought you should see it. Wasn't expecting to see a match, and damn sure not one that long. Is she really that good?"

"Last time I had to work that hard to win a fencing match, it got me a bronze medal, Lee," Miss Heller said. "No joke, no exaggeration."

I practically floated to the showers, after that!

In English, Robert Gerard, a boy who'd seen me with Elaine on the bus the night before, came over before class, and asked me pointblank if she was my girlfriend.

"Yeah," I said, grinning so wide it about hurt. "That's my Elaine."

"Lucky you," Robert said. "And good taste!"

Brian knew Elaine was coming after school. He didn't expect me to wait and talk, he knew I'd be online late to talk to him then. He knew I wanted to get home fast, so I could call Elaine and have her come over. The bell rang, and Mr. Ogden said, "Dismissed," and I was leaving a hole in the air.

Finals were coming. I took my Bio and my Algebra books out of my locker because of that— and then I was out the doors and running home, sprinting home.