Author's Note: Hey everybody! Our Muses are back! The other two Nightrunners had a most excellent time in Toronto, and they got to see the huge Two Towers Exhibit at the Royal Ontario Museum. Jai and Dru intended to, ahem, *borrow* several items to give to their dear reviewers, among them Eowyn's dress, Arwen's tiara, Legolas's bow, Gimli's throwing axe, and the Witch-King's gauntlets. However, the nasty alarm started to blare, and the mean old security guards chased the intrepid Nightrunners away. Eirual was crushed; she wanted Aragorn's ring, the one with the snakes and emeralds. Oh well...
For those who want to know, *all* major LotR players will be making an appearance in this fic, and we do mean all. So don't worry. On the other hand, in spite of a disappointing lack of LotR jewelry, only 6 days 'till The Two Towers. All three Nightrunners bounce for joy at the fact that they have tickets for opening night. Enjoy the fic.
Trust
Soundtrack: Last Beautiful Girl (Matchbox 20)
This will all fall down like everything else that was
This too shall pass and all of the words we said
We can't take back
Now every fool in town would've left by now
I can't replace all the wasted days
The memory of your face - can't help thinkin'
Maybe if we ever coulda kept it all together
Where would we be
A thousand lost forevers
And the promises you never were giving me
Here's what I'm thinking
It won't be the first - heart that you break
It won't be the last - beautiful girl
The one that you wrecked - won't take you back
If you were the last beautiful girl in the world
Tell me one more time
How you're sorry about the way
This all went down - you needed to find your space
You needed to still be friends
Needed me to
Call you if I ever couldn't keep it all together
you'd comfort me
Tell me but forever
And the promises I never should have believed in
Here's what I'm thinking
It won't be the first - heart that you break
It won't be the last - beautiful girl
The one that you wrecked - won't take you back
If you were the last beautiful girl in the world
It's over now - And I've gone without
Cuz you're everybody else's girl
It seems to me - you'll always be
Everyone else's girl
This will all fall down
Like everything in the world
This too must end
And everything else that was
We can't take back
Adam was puttering about his apartment. He was still very confused about many of the things that had happened to him over the last several days. However, as checking himself into a mental institute wasn't an option, he was resorting to housework to take the place of heavy-duty drugs.
Sleep wasn't an option either. Adam was prepared to swear that the loony with the pointed ears had given him something more than just a sedative. The narcotics-prompting-insanity theory, however, didn't fit the facts. Adam didn't know of any hard drugs that could *possibly* last this long.
With a sigh, Adam returned to his domestic drudgery.
//Milk and Cheerios should *not* leave traces of chocolate, icing sugar, and what appears to be congealed gelatin on my counter.//
Resigning himself to the fact that Mark *had* probably conducted several nuclear experiments in his kitchen, Adam wandered into the hall. The message light on his phone was blinking.
//Have I gone to work in the past few days?//
Pushing the play button, he allowed to the irate recorded voices to flow past his ears, and hopefully connect to his brain.
//Apparently *not*.//
The sound of a gun cocking quickly got his attention.
//Oh shit.//
" I thought you were going to *fix* that alarm. Very sloppy, Officer Gordon. I would have thought a policeman would be more on his guard."
Alice sounded rather irritated. Not that this was uncommon for her, there was a new edge in her voice. Almost as if she had actually been *worried* about him.
//Not bloody likely...//
" Hello Alice. Feeling better? I'm glad to see you're using a gun this time. It's *so* much less painful than being beaten off the wall." Adam would gladly die for Alice; however, being horribly mangled while she was suffering from über-PMS was not high on his list of 'Things to Do'... again.
" Adam, we really don't have time for this. Just listen to me, please."
An irrational thought beckoned to Adam through the haze of too many headache pills.
// Tell her that you love her. You'll probably never have another chance. She'll be beating you off the walls again before you know it.//
Adam tried to squelch the errant thought, and pay attention to Alice at the same time.
" Adam, do you trust me? I mean *really* trust me ?"
" Of course. Alice... I love you."
The odd look on her face prompted a thought to surface in Adam's slowly clearing brain.
//Ooopps..//
" That wasn't the question. Never mind that now. Grab some clothes and your gun. We have to leave."
"But I have to call in to work. The Captain threatened to draw and quarter me if I didn't report to her by the end of the day..."
In the time it had taken Adam to splutter this out, Alice had managed to stuff several necessary items into a pack.
"Never mind that, you can call her from the airport."
"*Airport*!?!?"
Alice didn't bother to reply. She merely shoved him out the door, and banged it shut behind them.
******
I sat in the passenger seat of the 'borrowed' car, fingers tapping idly on the dashboard. Curling my hands into fists, I sighed in frustration. I didn't like this situation, not one bit; running out blind, without a clue about what was going on. Definitely not my style.
The sun had risen, banishing all but the most stubborn wisps of pre-dawn fog. All around, I could hear the hushed roar of a waking city, people driving, distant horns blaring. The chemical stench of burning gasoline mixed with the piquant bouquet of last week's trash. I wrinkled my nose. Ugh. Garbage day.
All these wandering people, yet no sign of the two mortals I needed to ship out of the city. I'd almost resigned myself to going in after them when the building's door swung open, disgorging one annoyed Alice Starr, and one disgruntled Adam Gordon. How lovely. This was going to be a looooooong drive...
Alice opened the driver's door, and threw a canvas knapsack into the back. It fell with an anticlimactic *thud*. She folded her long legs in front of the seat, smacking the rearview mirror when it refused to move. Behind me, Adam was perched in the tiny backseat, looking like he'd been hauled out of bed six hours shy of a good night's sleep. Which was odd, considering how much time he'd spent unconscious in the past few days.
He also looked as though he had too much on his mind, and didn't have enough time left in his life to contemplate every thought spinning in his head. I sighed; poor mortal, I wondered if I'd ever see Aragorn again. At the very least, Adam Gordon was going to need a few dozen years of serious therapy to recover from this week.
He broke the silence abruptly. "So...who's going to tell me what the *hell* is going on?"
I exchanged glances with Arwen. Her expression spoke volumes: //You tell him, or so help me, I'll run this car into oncoming traffic.//
Oh, joy. "Adam Gordon," I began tiredly. This had gotten old. "You are not going to believe a *word* that I say, but I'll tell you anyway. We must leave the city as soon as possible, because we are rather deep in shit. You see, we've possibly got nine undead super-powered women coming after us with the burning desire to blow us all to kingdom come. Does *that* answer your question?"
I caught a flash of his glare in the mirror. If looks could kill...
"No, it actually doesn't."
I could *hear* Arwen gritting her teeth; love him she might, but apparently his lack of memories was starting to grate on her nerves. She inhaled deeply, then spoke. I was surprised by her tone of voice; she sounded almost...plaintive. "Adam...you said you loved me. You said you trusted me. Please, Adam. Just...sit. Stop asking questions, because you won't believe me, or Legolas. This is not good for anyone's mental state, particularly your own. We can talk later. We'll talk on the plane."
"Plane?"
Somehow, I had the idea that nothing was registering in Adam Gordon's brain today. I flashed my best smile over my shoulder; it probably didn't reassure him in the least. "We're going to the White City. Isn't that *nice*?"
I could *see* the blood draining from Adam's face. "Well, ladies and gentlemen," he whispered, "The wayward prince returns."
"Pardon?" Wasn't *this* interesting?
"I'm going home."