Authors' Note: Hurray, we found the hobbits. We solemnly promise that they will show up soon. Really. Have patience. In responds to a question we received, we thought we aught to make this clear. Using magic is not the same as using drugs. The magic is not like drugs. The drug of choice, "Flight", reacts badly with magic. By the way, if you haven't read the authors' note just before this, please go back and do so. It's really very important. Many thanks, once again.

The Nightrunners



What Have You Done?

Soundtrack: Drops of Jupiter (Train)

Now that she's back in the atmosphere
With drops of Jupiter in her hair, hey, hey
She acts like summer and walks like rain
Reminds me that there's time to change, hey, hey
Since the return from her stay on the moon
She listens like spring and she talks like June, hey, hey

Tell me did you sail across the sun
Did you make it to the Milky Way to see the lights all faded
And that heaven is overrated

Tell me, did you fall for a shooting star
One without a permanent scar
And did you miss me while you were looking at yourself out there

Now that she's back from that soul vacation
Tracing her way through the constellation, hey, hey
She checks out Mozart while she does tae-bo
Reminds me that there's time to grow, hey, hey

Now that she's back in the atmosphere
I'm afraid that she might think of me as plain ol' Jane
Told a story about a man who is too afraid to fly so he never did land

Tell me did the wind sweep you off your feet
Did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day
And head back to the Milky Way
And tell me, did Venus blow your mind
Was it everything you wanted to find
And did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there

Can you imagine no love, pride, deep-fried chicken
Your best friend always sticking up for you even when I know you're wrong
Can you imagine no first dance, freeze dried romance five-hour phone conversation
The best soy latte that you ever had . . . and me

Tell me did the wind sweep you off your feet
Did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day
And head back toward the Milky Way

Tell me did you sail across the sun
Did you make it to the Milky Way to see the lights all faded
And that heaven is overrated

Tell me, did you fall for a shooting star
One without a permanent scar
And did you miss me while you were looking at yourself out there


Adam ended up in front of Alice's apartment building that night, his mind whirling. He had to talk to his partner; she was a sensible woman, and a witch besides. Alice understood magic a lot better than he did. Hell, she understood it better than anyone at the precinct, even the Seers. If she told him he was insane, he'd be the first to go get the straight jacket.

Unfortunately, insanity was no longer such a straight-cut issue when magically-created monsters killed people in broad daylight, or when street-mages tore apart whole neighbourhoods in their frenzied battles. "If I'm insane, so is everybody else in the goddamn world." Adam pushed the building's front door; the lock was broken, and the landlord had never gotten around to fixing it.

Alice's building was almost as bad as his own. Built before the war, the carpet was stringy, the paint was faded, and most of the burnt-out incandescents had never been replaced. It had two saving graces: it was cheap, and it wasn't in Necropolis.

Alarm bells began to go off in Adam's head as he saw that the door to Alice's apartment was ajar. Even if you stood a greater chance of being killed by magic than a mugger, this was still New York, and Alice would never leave her door unlocked, let alone open. Adam drew his gun quietly and crept towards the door. He swung in silently, scanning for targets.

There was nothing. The apartment looked undisturbed. "Starr? Starr, where are you?"

An answering sob came from the tiny kitchenette. Gun leading the way, Adam ran into the kitchen.

Alice was curled on the ancient linoleum, by the battered table, clad only in her uniform pants and a sweat-soaked tank top. One arm was wrapped around her midsection, the other covered her face; at Adam's approach, she lifted her hand and cried out weakly. Blood ran from her nose and her eyes were glazed and unfocused.

Adam sniffed the air, recognized the acrid scent, and stared with horror at the little black inhaler lying near Alice's arm. "You're flying." he whispered, sinking to his knees next to the pathetic figure.

She stirred again at his touch. "Gordon?" she asked, her voice shaky and indistinct. Tears ran from her eyes, but she seemed unable to check them.

Adam propped his partner against his chest, all thoughts of his own problems flown from his mind. "What the hell are you doing, Starr?" he demanded, trying to stem the flow of blood from her nose. "Witches can die on even a tiny bit of flight! You know that!"

Suddenly, Alice surged out of his arms, swinging around to face him. Her eyes, glowing with bloody tears, seemed to look past him to a place far away.

"You." she said, her voice a dead monotone.

"Yes," Adam answered gently. "Adam, your partner."

She flew at him, fists slamming against his chest and shoulders, furious gasps shaking her frame. But in her weakened state she did little damage, and she collapsed in his arms once more, sobs wracking her trim body.

Adam held her gently, stroking her hair, trying to ignore how the heat of her body sent fire through his blood. He loved this woman, wanted her so much he'd forgotten what it was like *not* to want her; not wake up in the morning remembering her face in his dreams and wishing she was lying next to him. But he controlled himself. Alice was his goddamn partner, and lying on her kitchen floor, covered in blood, was really not the best time and place to confess those feelings.

The sobs began to slow, and were replaced by shivers. Alice stared at him, her pupils shrinking to nothingness like when she was spellcasting. Still, she didn't seem to see him.

"You." she whispered again.

"Yes." Adam soothed her, holding her close to him and stroking her hair as though she was a child.

"Damn you." she growled, her voice rising in power. Twisting away from him, she slowly rose to her feet. Adam likewise rose, and began to back away slowly. For some reason, the phrase //Hell hath no fury...//began to echo in his mind.

"How dare you!" she screamed; her pupils had disappeared completely. Solid blue orbs stared at him, and electricity crackled through her every word. Alice was in full rage, augmented by the drugs and the magic, and suddenly Adam was very, very afraid.

Tears were once again streaming from her solid blue eyes, but she took no notice of them. "How dare you die? How dare you go and leave me alone! You had no right! I gave up everything for you! *You had no right*!!"

There was a sharp crack, and Adam was thrown backwards against the wall. His head swam, and he saw Alice standing above him, magnificent in her fury, black hair streaming around her as though she stood in the middle of a gale. Oddly enough, the only thought in Adam's head was, "God, she's beautiful." Eyes wide, he waited for the final blow to fall.

It never came. With a buzz and a whine, the lights in the apartment flickered and died. The uncontrolled power flow had obviously blown out the circuit, judging by the screams, in this building, and the rest of the neighbourhood too.

Moonlight shone through the window, illuminating Alice as she crumpled to the floor, face white, breath coming in short gasps. Adam crawled to her side, a sickening realization taking root in his brain.

Alice Starr, the woman he loved, was going to die.