Thanks for the feedback, Hofftailing! Good to know I strike a chord somewhere;D

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Chapter 7: Fumbling Towards Ecstasy

All the fear has left me now, I'm not frightened anymore.

It's my heart that pounds beneath my flesh.

It's my mouth that pushes out this breath

and if I shed a tear I won't cage it.

I won't fear love and if I feel a rage I won't deny it.

I won't fear love.

--"Fumbling Towards Ecstasy" by Sarah McLachlan

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I was so happy.

Not only did I secure a great contract with a new client, but I was going steady with a former coworker. Seiichi Kaneda was doing great at his present company, and I was happy for another's success, for once. After that initial bar date, which ended on more of a hilarious note than I would've thought, plus a couple of coffee talks and city walks, he asked to have dinner with me. It was the first time I was going out with a guy who didn't demand sex on the first date, wasn't married, or abusive, or a closet gay. I'm done with dangerous men, I told myself, I deserve to be with a nice, decent guy, for once. We made arrangements to meet at a classy, but not too expensive, restaurant. My coworkers buzzed when he left, and for once, I didn't mind the office gossip. I was too happy. I hadn't felt this way for ages.

Floating on a cloud, I came home, intending to take a quick shower, then throw on something dressy but nice, and enjoy the company of a man who didn't take me for granted or act as if our relationship should be kept out of sight. Even Robin seemed to think Seiichi was okay the couple of times he stopped by, he even got her to smile, which I thought was pretty sweet. I know I haven't seen her too often, mostly my fault, but even I've noticed how gloomy she's been lately. I'm not sure if her moodiness is from work or pining over Amon, and being that she's so sensitive, I didn't want to pry too much. Besides, it's not like I could offer her advice about her job, nor about Amon, for that matter. I doubt there's a book or talk show host willing to tackle witch hunting, much less Amon.

Still, I was feeling so good, I wanted even Robin to feel this kind of happiness. Seiichi should be the model for men all women should aspire to date. Or perhaps that's just me. Then again, nobody else has made me feel that comfortable, that companiable, that loved, just by being with them. Did I say "loved"? I guess I did. And I don't care. In fact, I'd be willing to change my no-commitment stance just for him. Even though I've known him for a while, professionally as well as personally, I feel I could never stop learning about him, learning what he likes, what he's thinking about, small stuff, big stuff, it doesn't matter. Yeah, I could see myself spending a lot more time with Seiichi in a very nonprofessional way. All this ran through my brain, so much so that I didn't notice the door was unlocked when I came in. I should've noticed. I should've known better.

It wasn't until I'd rounded the corner, a silly, stupid smile on my face, that a pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around me, and I found myself surrounded by a small group of men in paramilitary uniforms, their faces hidden by goggles, helmets, and gas masks. As I struggled, a gloved hand shoved a rag soaked in strong chemicals over my mouth. I choked, then tried not to breathe, but it was no use. The world swam before my eyes, and I felt myself growing heavy, even as my mind screamed, DADDY!

When I awoke, I was tied to the lamp stand, my mouth taped shut with masking tape. I seemed to be in the middle of a sandbox, and I blinked, struggling to clear my eyes. Circles, I thought to myself, someone made circles of sand in my apartment. How dare they make a mess in my house? I glare, and there's a chuckle from one of the men.

"She's awake," he tells the others, and it's too late to feign sleep. He steps forward, but not close enough to mess up the circles. His face is level with mine, and I want to curse him, spit at him. He seems to get the point, and chuckles again. "You're a feisty little lady, aren't you?" he says, and I hate the condescension in his voice. "Just remember, if you mess up that pattern," he waves at the circles, "the witch will kill you. So stay still like a good girl."

A shudder works its way from the base of my neck to the bottom of my spine, and I force myself not to flail wildly. Witch? What witch? Where's my father? Doesn't he know what's going on? What's happening to me? Before my morbid imagination can fill in the blanks, the lights are turned off, and the masking tape muffles my whimper.

It isn't long before I hear the front door open. Please, please let it be Amon, I think wildly, or even Robin. I don't care, as long as they can get me out of here! The lights flicker on, and I see Robin step into the room. Her wide green eyes take in the situation, and as soon as she flips the lights off again, the fireworks begin.

And I'm not exaggerating when I say "fireworks." The paramilitary guys are shooting from behind, I'm guessing from my patio, and Robin does her thing with fire. However, it seems the gunmen are doing better with their bullets than she is with her power, since it appears like her flames stop just short of me. Maybe she's holding back because I'm in the way.

Oh no, I think, Robin's the witch they're talking about. But if she is, then she'd be frying me to a crisp, not trying to defend herself. Then I remember what that soldier guy said. The circles are protecting me from her. Strangely enough, I don't believe that bastard, since the bullets are flying too close to my ears and I'm in more danger of getting shot than burned. Being right in the middle of a firefight, literally a sitting duck, wasn't the plan for the evening.

Even as the thought goes through my head, I remember my date. Oh no, I think, he's going to think I stood him up! And following that vapid thought, a bullet goes through my brain, another one hitting my shoulder, and my body reflexively convulses on the floor. No, I want to scream, I can't die! I can't go out like this! The pain is so unbearable, I want to throw myself into another hail of bullets just to stop hurting so badly. Father! I vainly try to call out. Amon!

As I fade out of consciousness for the second time in so many hours, the darkness swallowing my sight, I dimly hear more bullets, more people coming in. I hear a woman calling for an ambulance, and then I don't hear anything. I don't feel anything, either, and for that, I am profoundly grateful.

Episode 14: "Loaded Guns"