Epilogue (part I)
London, England
As with every part of our lives, chapters must have a beginning and an end, leaving us with the decision of starting our next adventure or bringing us to our grand finale. This night was it for her; she no longer had a place in this world. It was time to let go.
Suggested Listening: "Born to Die" - Lana Del Rey
The brunette woman stalked around the pole in the center of the stage. She held onto the bar tightly with her right arm, bicep muscles tensing and flexing as she spun effortlessly around the pole. Every aspect about this life, by now, had simply become second-nature to her, dozens of routines and moves that have long been embedded into her muscle memory with ease. This place had evolved into her home over the course of time; an interesting path due to her wonderful gift.
Her darkened orbs glossed over the crowded room and it was only on a few sparing occasions that she would hold the gaze with an ex-patron, a regular, or a longtime co-worker. Her eyes came to rest on one particularly unmistakable face and she nearly faltered. Familiar chocolate eyes gazed back and a wistful dimpled smile seemed to part the crowds around the elevated stage. But after years of the practiced, emotionless mask she wore while performing, she shoved away the surprise she felt without missing a beat. Every step was an intimate stride, every bend was to lure a patron into a private fantasy, and every glance was only their secret to keep. With the familiar song-end near, she pulled herself up onto the metal post for one last time. Flipping herself upside down, she wrapped her legs around the rod. Using the momentum from the initial swing, she slowly loosen her grip on the pole and spun. Her body spiraled into a graceful descent until her back stilled from contact, and her hair splayed across the cool stage.
The song cross-faded into another, and the stage lights changed. Her vision was still blurred from the twirl as her eyes briefly fluttered shut to remember the first time she had done this, the memory, almost nostalgic. It wasn't long until she got off the floor and stood up tall. The watchful crowd burst into a loud mixture of verbal appraisals and a barrage of clapping. It was her moment of glory. Smiling out at the shadowed faces which surrounded her, Kate blew a kiss and gave a few weak waves as she ducked her head. She held a hand over her eyes, shielding out the unforgiving spotlight, to look for the one face she hadn't expected to see tonight. But instead of seeing the memorable smirk, the table was now vacated. Kate couldn't tell if what she felt was relief or remorse. With the spotlight fading from where she stood, she took the opportunity to approach the clients who occupied the stage, giving each of them a hug before sauntering off into the back dressing room. She had never ended a show in such a manner, and in a way she was thankful she would never do it again.
The employee's dressing room was actually one of her favorite areas in the entire establishment. It was there that she felt like a starlet. Thinking about it, the room was probably staged that way for the girls to forget what it was that they were really there to do. She was quick to grab the long peacoat from the back of her chair and place it on. Bundled, Kate sat before the broadway-lighted vanity mirror. She stared at herself for a brief moment before scrutinizing every detail of the space before her. The inner edge of the mirror caught her attention, and she couldn't help but smile. Lifting her hand, she delicately traced her fingers over a few older pictures that she had jammed into the frame of the mirror. There were a couple of her and the other girls she worked with, a photobooth strip of her and Faith, and one particular one of her before she came to be a stripper. She couldn't help but have a light laugh at the innocence of the young girl that stared back in the picture.
Kate was startled from her thoughts as a pair of toned, tanned arms wrapped around her shoulders and chest. The brunette smiled to herself at the familiar embrace; she didn't need to avert her gaze from looking at the old photos to know that it was her girlfriend.
"You enjoy that?" Kate's voice rasped in a low whisper.
"It would have been better if it was a private show," Morgan responded with honesty. A grin crept onto her lips as she brought a free hand up to expose the side of Kate's neck. Lowering her full lips, she feathered kisses along Kate's defined collarbone, trailing all the way up to behind the brunette's ear. "I'd forgotten how demanding your stage presence is. Mesmerizing."
Kate blushed at the response. It was unlike her to be flustered by any compliment. Having to hear it daily from her clients, the words felt hollow when it was followed with money shoved between her breasts or some other part of her outfit. But this, this was real, and she knew it. Regaining control of herself, from being a complete sap, she shied a playful grin at her lover's reflection. "I'm also demanding in be-"
It was in that moment that the back exit door slammed wide open with a hard metal thud. A stout and hefty man in a tailored vest with slacks, walked inside the room with a grandiose smile as greeting. It was Henry, the owner of the strip club, that had interrupted them.
The older gentleman's voice bellowed in the dressing space. "My gorgeous angels." With outstretched arms, he was quick to embrace both women in an attempted bearhug. "You were brilliant tonight, Kat!"
He soon released his hold on both Kate and Morgan, taking a step back to look at the women that he had watched grow over the years. Deep down, he was happy to be able to see the twinkle that was still in both of their eyes.
"Thank you." Kate smiled at the warm words which came from the proud man before her. And in return, he showed her the same tenderness before looking over at Morgan square in the eye.
His expression was fast to change between the two girls. Henry's face went stern as a deep frown-line settled in. "You're still stealin' her from me?"
Morgan couldn't take the forced exterior seriously and chuckled. "That's the plan, O'Henry."
With a long sigh, Henry turned his face off to the side and made a feeble effort in muffling the sound of a sniffle. "Then you two better go before I start cryin' or somethin' silly." After a forced cough, he returned his stare back at them with what looked like tear-brimmed eyes in the making. Exhaling a deep breath, he placed on his biggest smile and pulled out an envelope from the inside of his vest. "I got me a room full of wankers to deal with after that show."
Kate giggled at the words. "Thank you for giving me tonight."
He shook his head at her words and gave her a small kiss on the forehead. "No, thank you." The older man allowed for another lengthy breath to escape his lips, as his eyes darted between the two women. "You two remember to come back to visit the family soon, you hear?"
"Of course." Kate couldn't help but feel her own eyes start to swell at this parting. She hadn't thought that it would be as bittersweet as it was.
"Here's the final payment." His plump fingers placed the envelope onto the counter before Kate. He braved one last smile at both of his girls before spinning on the balls of his polished leather shoes to walk through the employee's club entrance. Without a glance back at them, both girls heard him speak: "This isn't goodbye, so don't dare say it." In a loud bang, the club door slammed shut behind him, causing a gust of warmer air to graze their skin.
Kate gently took a hold of the white enclosure and looked through its contents. There was a card that was signed by everyone from the establishment and the last of her earnings from doing what had been her life for the better part of a decade.
Morgan returned her arms into a more intimate clasp of her seated girlfriend. "You don't have to take that. I have more than enough saved to take care of the both of us for awhile."
Kate smirked at the comment. "Oh, how quickly you forget that I was a favorite here, just as you were."
"Correction, trying to forget that," Morgan sighed into the back of Kate's head. A comfortable silence fell between them as Kate fiddled with the flap on the opened envelope.
"I'm actually thinking that I should give it to Faith. Pay her back for everything - expenses and all." The brunette crooked a smile.
Morgan refocused her stare towards Kate's reflection. "Paying back your extremely rich ex-girlfriend." She brushed the pad of her thumb over Kate's mouth and was rewarded with a soft kiss. "Just a day in the life of dear Kate."
"She did save me." It served as a good reminder for her to be grateful for the people in her life.
Morgan playfully tapped Kate's nose. "And for that I am grateful." The tanned girl let go of her hold entirely and stepped off to the side of the seat. "C'mon. Let's go and pick up the last of your things so we can finally leave."
Kate hopped off of her seat. She didn't move from the spot as she chewed her bottom lip. After some hesitation, her words came tumbling out. "Are you sure you want this?"
"What are you talking about?" There was confusion etched into the slightly taller woman's facial features.
Kate took a pause before she spoke again, mindful of what she was about to say and also anticipating for a change of heart. "For us to jump right back into this... into us?"
Morgan turned to face the love of her life and cupped her face with all the care that she could place into one touch. "I left you once, and I regretted it every single day that I didn't fight harder for us." She dipped her head to capture the set of lips that hovered beneath hers. "I'm still sorry for that..." As the generally confident woman struggled with her words, Kate nodded in the acceptance of her apology. "Give me time, and I'll show you how I feel."
"You were always awful with expressing your emotions," Kate teased.
Morgan lips twitched as a scowl was fast to creep onto her face. "I still wish your friends would have rang me the moment that they found you."
Kate arched a shaped eyebrow in amusement. "I don't think that would have ended well."
She matched her girlfriend's amusement with curiosity. "Oh?"
Kate looked down at the floor and gave a knowing nod. She bit her bottom lip once again and spun around to face the vanity. "You can barely stand it when I hurt myself on accident." Her long arms stretched over the bare counter and one by one she removed all of her pictures; it was the last of her belongings, everything else had been moved into Morgan's car. "You would have raised bloody hell if you saw me at my worst."
Morgan nodded in a silent understanding and kissed Kate once again on the side of the head.
Dropping the photos into her purse, Kate furrowed her brow. "I'm not fragile. You can kiss me-"
"I know. We'll get to that soon enough." Morgan's words were followed with a playful wink as she signaled toward the back exit. "I'll go warm up the car."
In a few long strides, Morgan left the building and Kate was once again left alone. The brunette grabbed her purse and gave the room one last glance over while listening to the background rhythm that pulsed through the walls. Kate pulled her eyes from her surroundings and opened her purse in search of a recent photo that she had brought of her being hugged by Morgan. Upon finding it, she searched for a pen. The retrieval of that was, however, not as easy, nor successful, and she made due with lipstick. Before marring the image with the crimson shade, Kate smiled at the newly-made memory and the future promise of more to come.
"Pictures," she muttered to herself in a soft laugh. "They do say a thousand words."
After a few quick scribbles to sign the photo with 'XOXO - Kate & Morgan,' she placed it snuggly into the mirror's frame. It was then that she took those few steps to the back door and smiled back weakly into the empty room.
"It's been fun," she whispered before exiting.
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Somewhere in India
Grace Travers looked up at the sound of a brisk knock on her office door. In the doorway stood her assistant, Gregory. He was a tall, thin man with a sharp mind for details and a fondness for designer shoes.
"William McGrady is on his way, ma'am."
Grace nodded once. "Thank you, Gregory. Will you see to it that he's shown to the gymnasium when he arrives? Oh, and please make up some tea for our guest as well. He's been traveling extensively lately, and I'm sure would appreciate some English hospitality."
Gregory nodded his assent. "Of course, ma'am," he clipped.
When her assistant left her office, Grace stood from the mahogany desk she'd had shipped from England to the India office. She straightened a few piles of papers on the desk top and smoothed her hands down the lines of her fitted pencil skirt. Her kitten heels clicked sharply against the tiled floor as she made her way out of her office and toward the stadium gymnasium via the skywalk that connected the buildings of their modest production.
Outside, the hot sun beat through the glass windows that encased the skywalk. Grace paused just long enough to inspect the vast nothingness beyond the pane glass. Since joining the India office, she had had little opportunity, or desire, to see much of the foreign country. The sun was hot, oppressive, and she had far more pressing duties to concern her with instead of playing tourist.
The woman's knees buckled when she felt a strong force wrap itself around her legs. She looked down, first in shock, and then in good humor, when she recognized the thin arms thrown around her. A small child of nearly six years hugged the elder woman's legs. The tiny girl looked up, her face hidden behind a curtain of light brown hair. Grace reached down and gently brushed the straight strands away from the child's face to reveal two shockingly green eyes peering up at her.
"Can I go play with Arthur, Miss Grace?" The girl grinned deeply, showing off two perfectly placed dimples.
The aging woman smiled with the doting patience of an indulgent grandmother. "Yes, of course, Love. Just be a little easy on him today. He's still a little sore from playing yesterday."
The girl's grin faded to something resembling resolve. "Yes, Miss," she nodded solemnly. "I promise."
"That's a good girl," Grace smiled warmly. "Now go have fun."
The young girl flashed another smile before swiftly turning on her heels and running down the remainder of the skywalk. Her white sneakers squeaked to a stop when she reached the staircase that led to the open gymnasium below.
The girl paused at the heavy metal door that led to the stairwell. "Are you coming, too, Miss Grace?" she hollered down the skywalk hallway.
"In a bit, Child," Grace confirmed. She traversed the rest of the skywalk, but instead of following the young girl down the stairwell, she stopped to stand in the lofted balcony that overlooked the ground floor gymnasium. From this vantage point she could observe the small girl without interfering with her training.
She leaned her hands against the iron railing and watched as Arthur, one of the hired trainers, hesitantly but obediently pulled on padded protective gear so that the young girl wouldn't have to completely hold back during their "play."
Arthur and the child circled each other on the thick blue wrestling mat. The trainer looked anything but confident as the diminutive girl launched herself forward, her tiny fists clenched and ready to strike with pinpoint precision.
"Is that her? She's fantastic."
Grace turned at the sound a familiar, deep voice. "Hello, William," she greeted briskly. "I'm glad you could finally make it."
The man subtly swelled his chest. "It's been busy at the other labs," he said gruffly. "You know this."
Grace pursed her lips. "Plus you wanted to wait to see if she'd outlive the others."
William cleared his throat awkwardly. "Can you blame me? I was honestly starting to lose hope in our project. Especially after some of the others..." He trailed off.
The woman tried to smile agreeably, but she knew it looked more like a grimace on her lips. She tried hard to not think about the girls who had come before. They had all known it would take time to perfect the DNA splicing - to find the perfect combination. But she had underestimated just how long, and how many "subjects" it would take, to find the right balance. Most hadn't lived past infancy. Those who did somehow survive, however, were subject to a litany of mental and physical defects. That is, until her.
"What's her name?" William asked, pulling Grace from gruesome thoughts best left buried.
"Starbucks."
William quirked a skeptical eyebrow. "You're kidding?"
Grace allowed herself a small smile. "The scientist in charge of her DNA strain has a sense of humor and a caffeine addiction." The smile fell from her lips. "And after a while it felt too morbid to continue giving the girls proper names."
From below their lofted position, Grace could hear the distinct sound of dead-weight slamming across the floor mats, followed by a man's groan. The middle-aged woman shifted her attention to the floor below and watched as Starbucks crouched down and gently swept a few of Arthur's errant hairs off to the side. The matured woman had to suppress the smile that she felt tugging at her lips before clearing her throat loudly; she was proud. Starbucks was becoming everything that they had hoped for and more.
"Young lady," she boomed from above. "I thought I said to go easy."
Starbucks snapped her head up to gaze up at the matronly figure. "I did," she lightly protested. "Arthur was fine yesterday when I did that." Her small fingers lightly tapped at his protective head gear. "But I think he's tired today, Miss Grace."
"Would you be a dear and get Doctor Kobbs to make sure Arthur is still in good shape?" The young girl nodded and scurried out of sight.
"Grace, there is nothing less than impressive about her," William unnecessarily fed her ego.
"I know. I've watched her since the day she was created. She is the future."
William tapped his fingers against the railing. "Agreed, but you and I both know that there is no future until the past has a final nail in its coffin." His handsome face twisted into an ironic smirk. "In our case, maybe more than just a couple of nails, seeing as these girls seem to have multiple lives."
Grace allowed herself an indulgent laugh despite the truth behind Williams' words. No one under the Council's employ had ever imagined that the Originals would have such staying power. It had made the decision to use their DNA to create an independent slayer-line all the more convincing.
Starbucks returned to their line of vision, pulling the office physician by the hand. Arthur had now returned to his feet and sheepishly pulled off the protective gear.
Seeing her favorite trainer back on his feet, Starbucks' face lit up. "Can we go again, Arthur?" she eagerly asked. The man's eyes widened in terror.
"Starbucks," Grace gently called from above. "Arthur's earned himself a little break. Why don't you go to the art room and color for mental stimulation."
The young girl nodded. "For mental stimulation," she echoed. Not needing further instruction, she rushed back out of view. The girl never seemed to walk anywhere. It was as if her body knew her time was limited and wanted to make the most of every moment.
"Everyday that passes, she's more of a miracle," Grace noted reverently.
"But she could still stop breathing at any moment," William pragmatically observed.
Grace nodded solemnly. "Yes, but the research team is monitoring her around the clock and they've predicted that we'll have a better indication of her life expectancy when she turns 6. We're almost there."
William looked sideways at the tailored woman. He and Grace Travers had history. He knew she kept her emotions in check. Something about this girl, however, had pierced her armor. "The investors are going to want to meet her soon," he cautiously remarked. "They're getting impatient."
"She's not ready yet," Grace said sternly.
"Damn it, Grace. You can't coddle her forever," William chastised. "These people have invested millions of dollars to this project. They want to see physical results. They're not going to be satisfied with a Sally Struthers adopt-a-child postcard."
Grace's thin lips set in a hard line. "Soon," she uttered, daring William to challenge her further. "Soon we'll know if Starbucks' DNA is stable enough."
Knowing the other woman had put an end to that conversation, William tread onto even more sensitive territory. "Have you heard any news regarding your brother?"
Grace visibly stiffened. "No. Not for some time," she said tersely. "I was informed of the fire at the family home, of course, but nothing beyond that. His body was never found."
William tapped his fingers against his lips in thought. "And you still think one of the Originals is responsible?"
The woman's shoulders sagged. "I don't know, William," she said tiredly. She pinched at the bridge of her nose and sighed. She needed a day off. "What I do know is that Quentin let them live for far too long." She smiled wistfully. "And now it seems we might actually need them alive for a little longer. Sentimental bastard," she said, shaking her head. "He always did have a soft spot for those two."
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TBC