Hey all! So so sorry this update took so long, it was actually supposed to
appear back in June, but here's what happened:
I had the whole chapter planned out perfectly, but I didn't have time to complete it. It was the night before I left for the airport to spend a month in Spain, so I was writing as fast as I could but I kept having to stop and pack my clothes, and do laundry, and upload my entire mp3 library into my mini disk player.
Suffice it to say, I ran out of time even though I stayed up all night. The airport and rush hour traffic will not be stalled for the sake of a fanfic. So after I got back from Spain, I pulled out the fic and tried to complete the chapter. Unfortunately I had long lost my train of thought with that whole month off, and I couldn't rember what I wanted the characters to say.
It was a big problem for me, because I am a perfectionist. I know how the story is going to go from start to finish, so I knew what had to happen in the chapter, but I couldn't remember how I wanted to get the words down. Everything I came up with just wasn't as good as the way I had planned it, but unfortunately could not remember.
So here it is, I did my best and I'm glad it's finally out because I'm proud of the results and I hope you will enjoy it too.
Once again I'm sorry for the long delay, but don't worry the next chapter is already half written and will be up soon.
3-They Called Him Notorious
People were firing at us.
There were gunshots, many of them, and each one sounded like something I could have mistook for a car backfire, had I not been too frightened for delusions.
I looked up and saw a lot of black. The black hulk of the car Faye and I crouched behind, shielding us from the entourage of bullets. The black of the other car which had screeched round the bend with men in black suits hanging out the windows with rifles and revolvers pointed at us. The blackness of Faye.her long black coat from which she produced a shining black gun. She aimed it at the suited men and I jerked with each boom of close thunder. My hair was clinging to my face, getting in my eyes, causing me to see yet another shade of black-a souvenir of my Chinese heritage, although the homeland has long been flattened by fragments of the moon.
I kept seeing black, as if the shadows were reaching out to grab me. To kill me. People were shooting.shooting at me. I knew that had to be wrong.
It seemed too frighteningly surreal-the way I had my back pressed against the car, paralyzed, and praying to God. And when I looked over at Faye to see her completely unafraid, shooting back at those men with such determination, so unfazed-I had a sudden, strange impression that a demon was next to me.
A black clad demon with a shining weapon-a woman, just as they say the devil will be. That old cinematic expression, 'fade to black' ran though my head, and along with it a little chant:
Gonnadiegonnadiegonnadiegonnadie
And finally, the initial shock of the assassination-attempt-in-progress beginning to wear off and free my muscles, I screamed. I screamed for help, I screamed for the police (because ISSP is too many syllables when you're panicked), I screamed for God, I screamed for anyone who would listen, and I screamed in pain as Faye slapped me across the face and told me that I wasn't helping matters by freaking out.
"I'm gonna fucking die!" I screeched at her, and I heard my voice crack hoarsely like some preteen boy.
"Oh, shut up," she snapped, and I heard a similar snap as she reloaded the clip on her gun. Without another glance in my direction, she began to shoot again, then dive back and press her back against the car door as the return volley came.
"They've parked, five of them-two still in the car," Faye was belting out statistics; so-and-so is at four-o-clock taking cover behind a dumpster, Mr. Ugly-friend-of-first-guy using his car trunk as a shield. Tall-bald- man looks like he's gonna charge at us, hit him but he keeps on moving, bullet proof vests-clip's out--better get ready to run, Vivika.
Run? Run where? Run to what? Run out into the open where I'm bound to be shot? "I can't!"
She grabbed my arm and yanked it forcefully. "You're gonna."
"I can't, I can't!" I continued to protest as she pulled me into a crouch near the hood of our covercar.
"When I say to," she commanded in a low voice near my ear, "run forward- fast as you can, zig-zaging a little might help."
Everything next was a rush, a nightmare of a blur I don't quite want to recall. Faye shouted something at me, it might have been the signal, but whatever it was nothing registered in my brain. And then I felt the hard shove against my back and I stumbled out onto the street. Faye shouted something again, and once more I couldn't understand it. It must have been some kind of animal instinct that pulled me off my sorry ass and forced me to start running.
That horror-inspired tunnel vision I had came to an abrupt halt when I tripped on some invisible obstacle and landed face first on the sidewalk. I took a quick look around and realized I'd run to the end of the block, a semi-busy street in front of me. The guns were still firing behind me, and also behind me was Faye.
She was running in my direction and screaming at me to rise and keep moving. I stared at her form as it rushed toward me, then faced forward to obey the order. Pressing my palms against the ground I had pushed myself into something of a runner's starting position when I saw something.
My blood froze, my heartbeat skipped a few and got all disorganized, and my muscles wouldn't move me either upward or back to the ground. It was another car; it looked much like our attacker's car, a black, low, almost a limo but not quite. Sure there were other vehicles on the road, but I could tell the oncoming one with its tinted windows and its obvious disregard for traffic laws was bound to be involved in our situation.
And I was right. The windows rolled down, the sunroof slid open, and men wearing trench coats and identical expressions leaned out of the car and began to shoot at our attackers. Moments later, the vehicle screeched to a halt, swinging to the side a bit, and the door opened a few feet from my nose.
"Get in!" ordered the man who opened the door.
Faye had come up beside me and we exchanged confused looks. Faye probably thought these guys were friends of Marla's, while I'd believed that she had called up some friends of hers. But in our exchange of glances the two of us saw our assumptions were wrong and these saviors were strangers.
"Hurry!" pressed the man with a look that grew more nervous when the sound of another volley came from behind. I heard the sharp pecking of bullets hitting the pavement nearby, and suddenly Faye's hand gripped the back of my shirt, pulling me to my knees.
"Come on!"
"But-"
"Let's go!" Faye shouted, and before I knew it, she'd pulled me into the car and the door slammed behind us.
Everything for a while after that came in a rush of noises and shoving. Whoever drove the car was doing so either quite badly, or quite expertly, I don't know. The windows were tinted, even on the inside, as if the passengers weren't supposed to see the route being taken. Kidnapper-like. It made me nervous, especially because the car was a Roles Royce, which is big doings. We'd attracted the attention of rich guys with guns-powerful people.
There were four men inside besides us, including the driver. Two leaned far out the window on either side. They half-stood, half-bent over to reach far out, and Faye and I sat smashed between them so their asses were practically in our faces. There was hardly room to breathe. I couldn't even see what was happening in the front seat because the third gunman was standing straight up in front of us, top part of him out the skylight.
I could hear all of their guns pounding on rapid-fire, and what seemed like an unending wave of empty shells dropped from somewhere out the sunroof onto my lap.
The car swerved violently what seemed like every other second, and I was glad I couldn't see out the windows because knowing what we were zigzagging to avoid probably wouldn't have helped my fear. Faye held onto the back of my shirt, keeping me from crashing into the gunmen. I fumbled for a seatbelt, but found none, and held to the cushion as best I could. I was pressed close to Faye, and I felt her moving, fumbling through pockets for something, but it wasn't until I heard the "click" that I realized she'd reloaded her gun with a clip retrieved from some complicated part of her person. (I don't know where she pulled the bullets out from, and frankly, I don't want to know.)
The relief I'd been clinging to, which had formed once I was out of direct line of fire from those other men back there, vanished completely. Faye was on her guard; she didn't trust these men even if they'd just saved us.
She looked so used to that gun, and these types of situations, that I just knew there was some part of her I'd accidentally crashed into. The whole mess of a gunfight, that experience.I knew nothing about anything like that, which left me completely lost.
I'd have to trust Faye's instinct, and since I could probably say I owed my life to that instinct, I trusted her completely. If she was on her guard amongst our rescuers, that seemed to me a perfectly good excuse to resume my state of terror.
*~*~*
It seemed like forever before someone said the blessed words: "I think we lost them," and the car slowed to a normal speed and quit jerking. Finally the two men hanging out the windows moved back inside all the way and into the back seat, and the standing man-who's belt buckle had practically poked my eye out-sat down in the passenger seat. He said something to the driver and then promptly pivoted in his spot to look us over.
I saw his eyes give a quick once-over, evaluating our condition. My clothes were dirty and torn from falling, and ducking, and whatever else. I had a few scratches that must have been bleeding, and I'm sure I looked a mess. Something I've never been able to master is coming out of a bad situation looking good. When the man's gaze turned from me to Faye, I also turned to stare at the woman and I saw-with a little jealousy-that she looked just fine.
Her clothes, whether because she knew to buy stronger material or just because she fell and crouched the proper way, were a bit smudged but otherwise in a perfect state. There wasn't a mark on her skin. In fact, other than the absolutely horrible glare on her face, she looked perfectly calm.
With a click, she raised her gun to point at the man's face. "Who are you," she demanded in an even tone with angry icing. The driver of the car glanced at her for a moment, then turned his eyes back to the road as if nothing was going on.
I took that moment to look him over; the one who'd opened the door and who we probably owed our lives to. He looked more Asian than I do (I'm only a quarter Chinese) with black hair that was kind of messed up a little, as if he had better things to do than comb it in the morning.
He took off his sunglasses. There were tired lines under the eyes that looked right into Faye's. "I'm glad to see you're all right, Miss Valentine," he said, saying her name, as if he talked to her every day in this manner. "It's a good thing our sources are quick, I was warned that when you get into trouble it heats pretty fast but," he smiled slightly, nearly shyly or embarrassed, "I didn't expect this much so soon, honestly I thought some of those stories about you were-ah-exaggerations."
The evidence of a slight personal connection only left Faye startled for a moment before her eyes turned cold again. The gun hadn't moved at all. "Who are you, how the hell do you know me.and who's telling these stories?"
"And who were those guys shooting at us?" I added.
The car stopped before he could continue, and the man took a deep breath as if to prepare. He got out, and a second later the door on our side was opened by a man who looked very out of place in his valet uniform. The man who'd been talking to us stood in between us and the building we'd parked in front of.
"My name's Shin, if that means anything to you," he said.
Faye frowned. "It doesn't," she said, putting her feet on the ground but not exiting the car completely.
Shin shrugged his shoulders. "I really wasn't expecting it to," he admitted. "Spike's not much of a story teller; I doubt that he'd have mentioned me."
Faye was so caught off guard that she actually lowered her weapon (although her finger stayed on the trigger). "You knew Spike!?"
"Mind if we talk inside?" Shin asked, nodding his head towards the entrance and heading toward it at a brisk walk before the answer came.
"But how do you know who I-HEY!" Faye leapt from the car to give chase. "Stand still when I'm asking you something! Where do-" the rest of that sentence was cut off from my ears when the sliding glass doors closed behind her. The glass was tinted as dark as the car's, and she seemed to vanish completely.
"Hey, there's another chick in here," shouted the valet boy suddenly as he stuck his head in the vehicle. "Who's this kid?" he called to the gunmen who'd been headed for the door.
"KID!?" for a nice little moment I completely forgot my fear and focused my energy on the annoyance of the incredibly rude valet. "I'm twenty-two!" I looked the guy over, he was clearly the youngest of the group so far and he couldn't have been over eighteen. "I'm older than you!"
He winced at my overly-loud outburst, and I could hear those other gunmen laughing in the background as I sat in a huff, trying to mimic Faye's glare.
"Bill!" came the incredulous cry of one of the men. "Do your job, you're not in character!" he barked though a belly laugh.
"But-"
"Now, Bill," said another. "How does a good little bellboy treat a lady?"
With a grunt and an eye roll, Bill stepped aside, holding the car door open for me. "This way please," he practically growled, glaring at one of the suited men.
"'This way please' ~who~ Bill?" crooned the man.
"Mademoiselle," he finished through clenched teeth, face so red I would've laughed if I hadn't been in such a hurry to get to the door. When I stepped onto the sidewalk, I saw that we'd been taken to what looked like a hotel ranking the same standards as its valet. One vertical neon sign lamely blinked 'Hotel', with no other more unique title in sight. The 'el' portion of the line didn't even light with the rest of the letters. The whole building was brick-painted and reminiscent of older earth designs; however it went up a good forty stories at least, although dwarfed by most of the surrounding buildings.
I let the sound of the men's laugher and Bill's pathetic comebacks follow me into the foyer where there came an abrupt silence before the doors into the lobby opened for me-and then there was yelling once more. Apparently Faye hadn't made much progress with Shin.
"Will you just fucking explain-"
"Miss Valentine I-" whatever Shin was going to say, he stopped abruptly when I entered, and looked rather relieved. "Good. You're here-please," he indicated a small row of chairs near the check in counter (which a man in a trench coat leaned over, ogling Faye).
I shuffled my way to the chair, suddenly very self conscious now that everybody in the lobby was staring. All men, all in trench coats, or suits, or dark clothing. Nobody but Faye looked close to an average civilian-but with her short skirt, long coat, miffed expression, and gun still in her hand.well. ok fine, I was the only average person there.
"Regarding your question earlier." began Shin, after I'd taken my seat behind Faye. Vaguely, I wondered if he'd tried to get Faye to sit, and how well that had blown over. She stood with her hands on her hips, and I sat with my hands in my lap, like the wolf and the pup she guarded. "The people who attacked you were members of the Gold Serpent Circle."
My head shot up. "What?" I started. If Marla had been making business deals with them, they were in for a lot of money, so why would the Circle try to knock off her assistant and put the deals in jeopardy? The suspects I'd picked had been the Red Dragon Syndicate, rivals of the Circle, and the people with the most obvious motivation for disrupting Circle business.
Personally, I'd thought my guess was pretty good, but Faye apparently agreed with Shin. She hadn't seemed the least bit surprised; in fact, she gave a heavy sigh, crossed her arm and muttered, "Figured as much."
"What makes you say that?" I asked her, then quickly looking past Faye to Shin, I continued, "Why would they be after us-is it just me or Faye, or is it both of us?"
"Well they shot at the car," Faye reminded me. "They might have thought we'd picked up Marla already and were after her."
Shin breathed deeply, looking very tired. "You work for Marla Hearst, correct?" we nodded, Faye doing so with an eye-roll. "Did she really have a meeting today with Byres?" we nodded again.
He put a hand to his face and rubbed his eyes. "I was afraid of that-and they were chitchatting about Spike and Vicious, too..." He sighed and looked at us again. "How much information did she give him?"
"Nothing," Faye responded. "Hearst was the one asking for information."
"I.see.." He was now rubbing his forehead. "I see."he repeated, "what information is she after?"
"She wants to find Spike and hear just what that Dragon Slaying was all about."
"I see," said Shin once again, his expression now pitiable.
"Well I don't see!" I shouted, standing up. "What does Marla's game have to do with us getting shot at? Did she say something at the meeting that would get us into trouble-and why did they just let HER walk out of the office and shoot at US, when we weren't even at that meeting?!"
Shin held up his hands. "I'm afraid we haven't been able to tap Byres's office, so I couldn't tell you anything. Perhaps you should ask your boss if you were mentioned in her discussion with him."
I shut my mouth, realizing that I should do exactly what he said.
I looked up to tell Faye something, but I held my tongue when I saw that now was not the time at all to be bothering her. Her lips were pursed, frowning-- her entire body stiff from repressing God knows what. "So what do you want from us?" she asked Shin slowly. "What's the favor you're going to call in for saving us from the Circle?"
Shin shrugged. "I was sent to get you, so the favor doesn't belong to me."
"But.?"
"But.I do have an idea of what the favor is going to be." One of Faye's eyebrows lifted. She'd seen this coming. Shin straightened up, and that sleepy fog that had hung over him diminished a bit. "We've already gotten warnings.questions are being asked."
"So that's how she's gonna do it," Faye murmured. She nodded knowingly and crossed her arms. "She started a chain reaction in all the right places-and here I thought she lacked subtlety."
A look of what seemed to me to be pure relief graced Shin's slight smile. "Yes, you understand completely, Miss Valentine-or is it Gatsby now? Of course you can see, then, why it's best for all of us that Hearst's search is stopped. We can take care of it-but I can't guarantee how it will affect the two of you."
I didn't know what was going on but it didn't sound right inside my head. I stood up straight and balled my fists at my sides. "Well ~I~ don't understand what you two are talking about-chain reaction? To what?" I swept the room with my eyes, taking in the sight of the many dark figures who probably never had or would be gentlemen. "And what do you have to do with this anyway?"
Shin looked amused, his former exasperation seeming to have leaked into Faye. She gaped at me for a moment, and then slapped her forehead with her open palm. "Vivika." Faye said slowly. "Don't tell me you haven't figured out where we are."
"What?" Frowning and narrowing my eyes, knowing I had missed something, I took another good long look at the room. I still saw what I had first taken in: man after man, young to old, looking rather like those tired soldiers on television. Their eyes brimmed with pessimistic humor, and their clothes were worn and always dark. Well, except for the bellboy who'd ushered me out of the car; he wore the red and gold uniform of his position, hat and all.
He stood near the couch in the lobby closest to the door, and when he saw me staring in his general area, he caught my eye. His arms had been crossed, but one hand unwound itself, and pointed down at the floor-then he winked.
I looked at the floor, then my head shot up so fast I'm sure I nearly got whiplash. The bellboy winked again.
Right under my feet, painted carefully on the marble tile, was a bright red insignia. A giant drawing of a Chinese dragon, claws extended and teeth bared, stretched across the lobby floor from the door to the receptionist desk.
I knew this symbol.
Once again I looked at the men, but this time I knew exactly who I was seeing. "You're." my knees gave way, and I fell back into the chair hard; my mouth was dry and I fought to swallow. "You're.this is."
Faye opened her mouth to speak but someone else beat her to it.
"The Red Dragon Syndicate," prompted a voice, finishing my sentence. . I looked up to see another man, tall, dark and slouchy descending the stairs. He smiled, kind of lopsided-like, and took an unlit cigarette from between his lips. "What, nobody told her?"
"I." with no memory of bending my knees, I hit the chair hard.
Faye, meanwhile, had turned several colors-most nearly unnatural-in rapid succession. "I should have known." I heard her murmur. "Why did I ever doubt it?" she cracked a disturbing smile and laughed lowly.
"Um.Faye?" I tried.
She spun around and exploded at the man on the steps. "So this is where you've been the past year? Spike Spiegel--you fucking Lunkhead!"
The name sounded familiar. I looked the man over, wondering if I'd met him before. He stood with his shoulders sloping, but I could tell that Spike was tall. He was skinny, tanned, and sported a head of green hair that looked almost like an accident. He's looks were distinct, but they triggered no memory. It had to be the name.
"Hello to you too, Faye," he replied, not seeming the least bit offended. In fact, when Faye had shouted, his grin widened.
She frowned. "Is that all you have to say? Hello?" with clenched fists she stalked towards him, Shin nearly jumping out of her way.
"You're supposed to be dead," she growled.
Spike exhaled loudly. "I told you-"
"You weren't going off to die-I know. Don't bother spitting out that crap again, I don't want your speeches you selfish bastard. Do you even know what you put us through?"
"Why Faye," he smirked. "You almost sound caring."
"Fuck off!"
"Ouch."
I stared at the two of them in shock, which worsened as soon as it hit me who Spiegel was. I'd just remembered what Marla had said: Spike Spiegel was the Dragon Slayer, the urban legend who'd killed a powerful Syndicate leader just a days after that leader killed the Van in a bloody coup.
It then occurred to me that if Spike had killed the old leader of the Red Dragons, that meant that he was the new leader..
So there was Faye, screaming and cursing in the face of one of the most powerful and dangerous people on Mars. I felt like throwing up. My only comfort was the expression on Spike's face. He seemed to almost enjoy the tantrum before him, taking it all with a lazy smile and a few quipped retorts.
Even the other Syndicate men in the room, who were all watching with interest, looked in good humor. Nobody made any move for their weapons, which made me feel a bit better. I don't know much about the mob, but I know that anyone talking to the Godfather the way Faye did wouldn't be alive at the end of the movie.
But the mood seemed to chance when Faye slapped the cigarette right out of Spike's hand. He watched it fall to the ground, then turned his eyes back to Faye with a serious expression.
"I'm not playing with you, Spike, I don't give a rat's ass about your come-backs," she hissed. "I know I can't get you to take me seriously, but I can fucking well make you pay attention."
His eyebrows arched slightly, and he waited for her to continue.
"Don't even talk to me about caring, hypocrite. You could have at least told us you were alive."
He had absolutely no facial expression-and that still bothers me. "Do you really think it would have been a good idea to contact you with all the Syndicate activity?" Spike asked her, but she accepted that response with a snort.
"Bull. Don't even think telling me you did it to protect us, because that's shit. I know it, and you probably do too. In fact-" Faye cut herself off with a sort of surprised look, as if she'd just forgotten where she was and what she was doing. She'd been standing on tiptoe to glare in Spike's face more easily, but she then lowered herself down to ground level.
"No." she said slowly, shaking her head. "Forget this, I'm not even going to bother."
Spike's eyebrows arched again, but it seemed more natural than melodramatic this time.
Faye shook her head again and with her hands on her hips, looked back up at Spike with an irritated-but otherwise calm-expression. "Ya know what?" she said. "Never mind."
"That's surprisingly rational of you, Faye." It looked like his original grin might return, but Faye wasn't about to allow it.
"I meant never mind ~you~," she responded curtly. "I'm done. I made my peace with this; I said goodbye to you already and this is not hello."
Spike opened his mouth but Faye continued quickly.
"Don't worry, I'll make sure Marla's set straight. You're pretty little empire wont get muddy because of me. Handle things on your side, I'll handle them on mine, and you'll have nothing to complain about except the same old stuff about proud women."
Then they were both quiet, staring at each other for a moment. I watched them with a knot in my stomach, and the other agents in the room stared just as intently. Only the two in the center seemed to be immune to the tension in the air.
Then it was Faye's turn to smirk. "See you, space cowboy," she said, and with that she turned on her heel and walked out the door, disappearing as the tinted glass slid shut behind her.
Spike stared after her for a second or two, then shrugged. He turned back towards the stairs he'd come down, grinding out the still smoldering cigarette with his heel as he went.
"Same old woman," he mused. That smirk-although a little smaller-had returned, and he wore it while stuffing his hands in his pockets. He ascended the stairs without taking notice of the small crowd staring at him, whistling some old tune all the way, and only pausing to glance back down at me and then at Shin, asking, "Is this Faye's kid or did you get a girlfriend?"
That's when my brain turned on, and my face turned red. I ran out the door after Faye, calling her name in a whimpering yell. I'd only just made it out of the foyer and into the street when I stopped. It was twilight by now, and Faye was hard to see in that black coat of hers. I had to turn my head to look up and down the street twice before I spotted her. But before I could move to pursue someone caught my arm.
It was Shin, but I yelped anyway, afraid of being dragged back into the Dragon's building without Faye to protect me.
"Take it easy!" cried Shin, releasing my arm immediately. "I just wanted to remind you that the Circle has targeted you and Miss Val-Gatsby, I mean."
"Oh yeah." I managed, realizing that I'd forgotten that fact for a moment, probably because I'd wished to repress the thought. "But-Faye said she.she would fix it.wasn't that what she said to him back there?" I pointed at the hotel with my thumb, and saw that my hand shook a little.
Shin produced a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to me. "I know that your friend doesn't want involvement." he tired. He motioned to the paper and I saw that it was a business card for the blandly named East Tharsis Grand Hotel.
"If you run into more Circle trouble that number will call the front desk," Shin explained. "Just tell whoever answers that you need an escort, he'll know what it means."
"What does it mean?"
He smiled at my ignorance. "When we picked you up this afternoon, that was an 'escort'."
I pictured the black Rolls Royce, the gunman, the windows tinted on the inside and out, and I managed an, "Oh.um. thank you." Pocketing the card, I gave a struggling polite bow and then rushed off after Faye at full speed.
I caught up with her two blocks later, and then asked her to explain what had gone on back at that hotel. "What was all that stuff you said- about fixing things and chain reactions. and stuff.?"
"Bar," said Faye.
"And how come you didn't say you knew Spike Spiegel when Marla brought it up, she'd gonna have a freakout and make things worse you know."
"Bar," said Faye.
"And how come you were yelling at him like tha-" I stopped short as Faye's hands clamped down on my shoulders, holding me still and forcing me to look her in the face. For all that energy and strength she'd displayed back there while facing Spiegel, Faye looked exhausted. Like fabric worn too thin. She had the eyes of a woman three times her age.
"Vivika," she said slowly, smiling patiently although with a bit of condescension, "I need a bar." Fingering the card in my pocket, I nodded compliantly, and we turned our heading towards the bright 'Liquor' sign down the street.
To Be Continued
And there it is, chapter 3! I was in such a rush to post that I didn't proofread, so please forgive the usual errors.
Now for my handy dandy commentary!
Okay so you may notice that a lot of questions are presented and left unanswered in this chapter. Remember folks that Vivika, the narrator, doesn't know the back-story of Spike and Faye, and since she is telling the story, I can't write down explanations for character's actions that the narrator herself wouldn't be able to explain. (I think I just confused myself with that one.)
On to topic 2- realism is fun! One of my reviewers described Marla as "borderline Mary Sue" I think, and I'm sorry but I have no idea what that means. Part of the problem people seem to have with Marla is that she is a pretty outrageous person, and readers don't find her realistic. So here's where the irony comes in, because I modeled her character, partially, after an actually person. Marla is a combination of Tom Buchanan and Gatsby from the book The Great Gatsby, but I also got a lot of her traits from William Randolph Hearst (thus Marla's last name).
For history- the real Hearst was a millionaire who was pretty influential for a time in American History because he owned his own newspaper, which he often used to sway public opinion to his point of view. He had a very.quirky personality so to speak. A very famous movie called Citizen Kane (sp?) is a sort of "version" of Hearst's life, Kane's character being modeled after William Randolf Hearst. (can you say, "Rosebud"?)
And finally, for notes on this chapter in relation to the next, you can look foreword to both angst from Faye and a fight scene! The F/S stuff, for all you fans, is of course just beginning, and don't worry, Jet and Ed (and Ein of course!) will be coming too, but not for a while yet so keep your shirts on.
All that said, thank you to my reviewers so so much!! I meant to do one of those things where people are thanked individually, but I really wanted to get this chap up as soon as it was done since the wait was so long, so maybe next chapter.
Thank you once again, I look forward to comments always. Compliments are lovely and criticism is of course accepted and appreciated as long as it's not in flame format.
Please review!
I had the whole chapter planned out perfectly, but I didn't have time to complete it. It was the night before I left for the airport to spend a month in Spain, so I was writing as fast as I could but I kept having to stop and pack my clothes, and do laundry, and upload my entire mp3 library into my mini disk player.
Suffice it to say, I ran out of time even though I stayed up all night. The airport and rush hour traffic will not be stalled for the sake of a fanfic. So after I got back from Spain, I pulled out the fic and tried to complete the chapter. Unfortunately I had long lost my train of thought with that whole month off, and I couldn't rember what I wanted the characters to say.
It was a big problem for me, because I am a perfectionist. I know how the story is going to go from start to finish, so I knew what had to happen in the chapter, but I couldn't remember how I wanted to get the words down. Everything I came up with just wasn't as good as the way I had planned it, but unfortunately could not remember.
So here it is, I did my best and I'm glad it's finally out because I'm proud of the results and I hope you will enjoy it too.
Once again I'm sorry for the long delay, but don't worry the next chapter is already half written and will be up soon.
3-They Called Him Notorious
People were firing at us.
There were gunshots, many of them, and each one sounded like something I could have mistook for a car backfire, had I not been too frightened for delusions.
I looked up and saw a lot of black. The black hulk of the car Faye and I crouched behind, shielding us from the entourage of bullets. The black of the other car which had screeched round the bend with men in black suits hanging out the windows with rifles and revolvers pointed at us. The blackness of Faye.her long black coat from which she produced a shining black gun. She aimed it at the suited men and I jerked with each boom of close thunder. My hair was clinging to my face, getting in my eyes, causing me to see yet another shade of black-a souvenir of my Chinese heritage, although the homeland has long been flattened by fragments of the moon.
I kept seeing black, as if the shadows were reaching out to grab me. To kill me. People were shooting.shooting at me. I knew that had to be wrong.
It seemed too frighteningly surreal-the way I had my back pressed against the car, paralyzed, and praying to God. And when I looked over at Faye to see her completely unafraid, shooting back at those men with such determination, so unfazed-I had a sudden, strange impression that a demon was next to me.
A black clad demon with a shining weapon-a woman, just as they say the devil will be. That old cinematic expression, 'fade to black' ran though my head, and along with it a little chant:
Gonnadiegonnadiegonnadiegonnadie
And finally, the initial shock of the assassination-attempt-in-progress beginning to wear off and free my muscles, I screamed. I screamed for help, I screamed for the police (because ISSP is too many syllables when you're panicked), I screamed for God, I screamed for anyone who would listen, and I screamed in pain as Faye slapped me across the face and told me that I wasn't helping matters by freaking out.
"I'm gonna fucking die!" I screeched at her, and I heard my voice crack hoarsely like some preteen boy.
"Oh, shut up," she snapped, and I heard a similar snap as she reloaded the clip on her gun. Without another glance in my direction, she began to shoot again, then dive back and press her back against the car door as the return volley came.
"They've parked, five of them-two still in the car," Faye was belting out statistics; so-and-so is at four-o-clock taking cover behind a dumpster, Mr. Ugly-friend-of-first-guy using his car trunk as a shield. Tall-bald- man looks like he's gonna charge at us, hit him but he keeps on moving, bullet proof vests-clip's out--better get ready to run, Vivika.
Run? Run where? Run to what? Run out into the open where I'm bound to be shot? "I can't!"
She grabbed my arm and yanked it forcefully. "You're gonna."
"I can't, I can't!" I continued to protest as she pulled me into a crouch near the hood of our covercar.
"When I say to," she commanded in a low voice near my ear, "run forward- fast as you can, zig-zaging a little might help."
Everything next was a rush, a nightmare of a blur I don't quite want to recall. Faye shouted something at me, it might have been the signal, but whatever it was nothing registered in my brain. And then I felt the hard shove against my back and I stumbled out onto the street. Faye shouted something again, and once more I couldn't understand it. It must have been some kind of animal instinct that pulled me off my sorry ass and forced me to start running.
That horror-inspired tunnel vision I had came to an abrupt halt when I tripped on some invisible obstacle and landed face first on the sidewalk. I took a quick look around and realized I'd run to the end of the block, a semi-busy street in front of me. The guns were still firing behind me, and also behind me was Faye.
She was running in my direction and screaming at me to rise and keep moving. I stared at her form as it rushed toward me, then faced forward to obey the order. Pressing my palms against the ground I had pushed myself into something of a runner's starting position when I saw something.
My blood froze, my heartbeat skipped a few and got all disorganized, and my muscles wouldn't move me either upward or back to the ground. It was another car; it looked much like our attacker's car, a black, low, almost a limo but not quite. Sure there were other vehicles on the road, but I could tell the oncoming one with its tinted windows and its obvious disregard for traffic laws was bound to be involved in our situation.
And I was right. The windows rolled down, the sunroof slid open, and men wearing trench coats and identical expressions leaned out of the car and began to shoot at our attackers. Moments later, the vehicle screeched to a halt, swinging to the side a bit, and the door opened a few feet from my nose.
"Get in!" ordered the man who opened the door.
Faye had come up beside me and we exchanged confused looks. Faye probably thought these guys were friends of Marla's, while I'd believed that she had called up some friends of hers. But in our exchange of glances the two of us saw our assumptions were wrong and these saviors were strangers.
"Hurry!" pressed the man with a look that grew more nervous when the sound of another volley came from behind. I heard the sharp pecking of bullets hitting the pavement nearby, and suddenly Faye's hand gripped the back of my shirt, pulling me to my knees.
"Come on!"
"But-"
"Let's go!" Faye shouted, and before I knew it, she'd pulled me into the car and the door slammed behind us.
Everything for a while after that came in a rush of noises and shoving. Whoever drove the car was doing so either quite badly, or quite expertly, I don't know. The windows were tinted, even on the inside, as if the passengers weren't supposed to see the route being taken. Kidnapper-like. It made me nervous, especially because the car was a Roles Royce, which is big doings. We'd attracted the attention of rich guys with guns-powerful people.
There were four men inside besides us, including the driver. Two leaned far out the window on either side. They half-stood, half-bent over to reach far out, and Faye and I sat smashed between them so their asses were practically in our faces. There was hardly room to breathe. I couldn't even see what was happening in the front seat because the third gunman was standing straight up in front of us, top part of him out the skylight.
I could hear all of their guns pounding on rapid-fire, and what seemed like an unending wave of empty shells dropped from somewhere out the sunroof onto my lap.
The car swerved violently what seemed like every other second, and I was glad I couldn't see out the windows because knowing what we were zigzagging to avoid probably wouldn't have helped my fear. Faye held onto the back of my shirt, keeping me from crashing into the gunmen. I fumbled for a seatbelt, but found none, and held to the cushion as best I could. I was pressed close to Faye, and I felt her moving, fumbling through pockets for something, but it wasn't until I heard the "click" that I realized she'd reloaded her gun with a clip retrieved from some complicated part of her person. (I don't know where she pulled the bullets out from, and frankly, I don't want to know.)
The relief I'd been clinging to, which had formed once I was out of direct line of fire from those other men back there, vanished completely. Faye was on her guard; she didn't trust these men even if they'd just saved us.
She looked so used to that gun, and these types of situations, that I just knew there was some part of her I'd accidentally crashed into. The whole mess of a gunfight, that experience.I knew nothing about anything like that, which left me completely lost.
I'd have to trust Faye's instinct, and since I could probably say I owed my life to that instinct, I trusted her completely. If she was on her guard amongst our rescuers, that seemed to me a perfectly good excuse to resume my state of terror.
*~*~*
It seemed like forever before someone said the blessed words: "I think we lost them," and the car slowed to a normal speed and quit jerking. Finally the two men hanging out the windows moved back inside all the way and into the back seat, and the standing man-who's belt buckle had practically poked my eye out-sat down in the passenger seat. He said something to the driver and then promptly pivoted in his spot to look us over.
I saw his eyes give a quick once-over, evaluating our condition. My clothes were dirty and torn from falling, and ducking, and whatever else. I had a few scratches that must have been bleeding, and I'm sure I looked a mess. Something I've never been able to master is coming out of a bad situation looking good. When the man's gaze turned from me to Faye, I also turned to stare at the woman and I saw-with a little jealousy-that she looked just fine.
Her clothes, whether because she knew to buy stronger material or just because she fell and crouched the proper way, were a bit smudged but otherwise in a perfect state. There wasn't a mark on her skin. In fact, other than the absolutely horrible glare on her face, she looked perfectly calm.
With a click, she raised her gun to point at the man's face. "Who are you," she demanded in an even tone with angry icing. The driver of the car glanced at her for a moment, then turned his eyes back to the road as if nothing was going on.
I took that moment to look him over; the one who'd opened the door and who we probably owed our lives to. He looked more Asian than I do (I'm only a quarter Chinese) with black hair that was kind of messed up a little, as if he had better things to do than comb it in the morning.
He took off his sunglasses. There were tired lines under the eyes that looked right into Faye's. "I'm glad to see you're all right, Miss Valentine," he said, saying her name, as if he talked to her every day in this manner. "It's a good thing our sources are quick, I was warned that when you get into trouble it heats pretty fast but," he smiled slightly, nearly shyly or embarrassed, "I didn't expect this much so soon, honestly I thought some of those stories about you were-ah-exaggerations."
The evidence of a slight personal connection only left Faye startled for a moment before her eyes turned cold again. The gun hadn't moved at all. "Who are you, how the hell do you know me.and who's telling these stories?"
"And who were those guys shooting at us?" I added.
The car stopped before he could continue, and the man took a deep breath as if to prepare. He got out, and a second later the door on our side was opened by a man who looked very out of place in his valet uniform. The man who'd been talking to us stood in between us and the building we'd parked in front of.
"My name's Shin, if that means anything to you," he said.
Faye frowned. "It doesn't," she said, putting her feet on the ground but not exiting the car completely.
Shin shrugged his shoulders. "I really wasn't expecting it to," he admitted. "Spike's not much of a story teller; I doubt that he'd have mentioned me."
Faye was so caught off guard that she actually lowered her weapon (although her finger stayed on the trigger). "You knew Spike!?"
"Mind if we talk inside?" Shin asked, nodding his head towards the entrance and heading toward it at a brisk walk before the answer came.
"But how do you know who I-HEY!" Faye leapt from the car to give chase. "Stand still when I'm asking you something! Where do-" the rest of that sentence was cut off from my ears when the sliding glass doors closed behind her. The glass was tinted as dark as the car's, and she seemed to vanish completely.
"Hey, there's another chick in here," shouted the valet boy suddenly as he stuck his head in the vehicle. "Who's this kid?" he called to the gunmen who'd been headed for the door.
"KID!?" for a nice little moment I completely forgot my fear and focused my energy on the annoyance of the incredibly rude valet. "I'm twenty-two!" I looked the guy over, he was clearly the youngest of the group so far and he couldn't have been over eighteen. "I'm older than you!"
He winced at my overly-loud outburst, and I could hear those other gunmen laughing in the background as I sat in a huff, trying to mimic Faye's glare.
"Bill!" came the incredulous cry of one of the men. "Do your job, you're not in character!" he barked though a belly laugh.
"But-"
"Now, Bill," said another. "How does a good little bellboy treat a lady?"
With a grunt and an eye roll, Bill stepped aside, holding the car door open for me. "This way please," he practically growled, glaring at one of the suited men.
"'This way please' ~who~ Bill?" crooned the man.
"Mademoiselle," he finished through clenched teeth, face so red I would've laughed if I hadn't been in such a hurry to get to the door. When I stepped onto the sidewalk, I saw that we'd been taken to what looked like a hotel ranking the same standards as its valet. One vertical neon sign lamely blinked 'Hotel', with no other more unique title in sight. The 'el' portion of the line didn't even light with the rest of the letters. The whole building was brick-painted and reminiscent of older earth designs; however it went up a good forty stories at least, although dwarfed by most of the surrounding buildings.
I let the sound of the men's laugher and Bill's pathetic comebacks follow me into the foyer where there came an abrupt silence before the doors into the lobby opened for me-and then there was yelling once more. Apparently Faye hadn't made much progress with Shin.
"Will you just fucking explain-"
"Miss Valentine I-" whatever Shin was going to say, he stopped abruptly when I entered, and looked rather relieved. "Good. You're here-please," he indicated a small row of chairs near the check in counter (which a man in a trench coat leaned over, ogling Faye).
I shuffled my way to the chair, suddenly very self conscious now that everybody in the lobby was staring. All men, all in trench coats, or suits, or dark clothing. Nobody but Faye looked close to an average civilian-but with her short skirt, long coat, miffed expression, and gun still in her hand.well. ok fine, I was the only average person there.
"Regarding your question earlier." began Shin, after I'd taken my seat behind Faye. Vaguely, I wondered if he'd tried to get Faye to sit, and how well that had blown over. She stood with her hands on her hips, and I sat with my hands in my lap, like the wolf and the pup she guarded. "The people who attacked you were members of the Gold Serpent Circle."
My head shot up. "What?" I started. If Marla had been making business deals with them, they were in for a lot of money, so why would the Circle try to knock off her assistant and put the deals in jeopardy? The suspects I'd picked had been the Red Dragon Syndicate, rivals of the Circle, and the people with the most obvious motivation for disrupting Circle business.
Personally, I'd thought my guess was pretty good, but Faye apparently agreed with Shin. She hadn't seemed the least bit surprised; in fact, she gave a heavy sigh, crossed her arm and muttered, "Figured as much."
"What makes you say that?" I asked her, then quickly looking past Faye to Shin, I continued, "Why would they be after us-is it just me or Faye, or is it both of us?"
"Well they shot at the car," Faye reminded me. "They might have thought we'd picked up Marla already and were after her."
Shin breathed deeply, looking very tired. "You work for Marla Hearst, correct?" we nodded, Faye doing so with an eye-roll. "Did she really have a meeting today with Byres?" we nodded again.
He put a hand to his face and rubbed his eyes. "I was afraid of that-and they were chitchatting about Spike and Vicious, too..." He sighed and looked at us again. "How much information did she give him?"
"Nothing," Faye responded. "Hearst was the one asking for information."
"I.see.." He was now rubbing his forehead. "I see."he repeated, "what information is she after?"
"She wants to find Spike and hear just what that Dragon Slaying was all about."
"I see," said Shin once again, his expression now pitiable.
"Well I don't see!" I shouted, standing up. "What does Marla's game have to do with us getting shot at? Did she say something at the meeting that would get us into trouble-and why did they just let HER walk out of the office and shoot at US, when we weren't even at that meeting?!"
Shin held up his hands. "I'm afraid we haven't been able to tap Byres's office, so I couldn't tell you anything. Perhaps you should ask your boss if you were mentioned in her discussion with him."
I shut my mouth, realizing that I should do exactly what he said.
I looked up to tell Faye something, but I held my tongue when I saw that now was not the time at all to be bothering her. Her lips were pursed, frowning-- her entire body stiff from repressing God knows what. "So what do you want from us?" she asked Shin slowly. "What's the favor you're going to call in for saving us from the Circle?"
Shin shrugged. "I was sent to get you, so the favor doesn't belong to me."
"But.?"
"But.I do have an idea of what the favor is going to be." One of Faye's eyebrows lifted. She'd seen this coming. Shin straightened up, and that sleepy fog that had hung over him diminished a bit. "We've already gotten warnings.questions are being asked."
"So that's how she's gonna do it," Faye murmured. She nodded knowingly and crossed her arms. "She started a chain reaction in all the right places-and here I thought she lacked subtlety."
A look of what seemed to me to be pure relief graced Shin's slight smile. "Yes, you understand completely, Miss Valentine-or is it Gatsby now? Of course you can see, then, why it's best for all of us that Hearst's search is stopped. We can take care of it-but I can't guarantee how it will affect the two of you."
I didn't know what was going on but it didn't sound right inside my head. I stood up straight and balled my fists at my sides. "Well ~I~ don't understand what you two are talking about-chain reaction? To what?" I swept the room with my eyes, taking in the sight of the many dark figures who probably never had or would be gentlemen. "And what do you have to do with this anyway?"
Shin looked amused, his former exasperation seeming to have leaked into Faye. She gaped at me for a moment, and then slapped her forehead with her open palm. "Vivika." Faye said slowly. "Don't tell me you haven't figured out where we are."
"What?" Frowning and narrowing my eyes, knowing I had missed something, I took another good long look at the room. I still saw what I had first taken in: man after man, young to old, looking rather like those tired soldiers on television. Their eyes brimmed with pessimistic humor, and their clothes were worn and always dark. Well, except for the bellboy who'd ushered me out of the car; he wore the red and gold uniform of his position, hat and all.
He stood near the couch in the lobby closest to the door, and when he saw me staring in his general area, he caught my eye. His arms had been crossed, but one hand unwound itself, and pointed down at the floor-then he winked.
I looked at the floor, then my head shot up so fast I'm sure I nearly got whiplash. The bellboy winked again.
Right under my feet, painted carefully on the marble tile, was a bright red insignia. A giant drawing of a Chinese dragon, claws extended and teeth bared, stretched across the lobby floor from the door to the receptionist desk.
I knew this symbol.
Once again I looked at the men, but this time I knew exactly who I was seeing. "You're." my knees gave way, and I fell back into the chair hard; my mouth was dry and I fought to swallow. "You're.this is."
Faye opened her mouth to speak but someone else beat her to it.
"The Red Dragon Syndicate," prompted a voice, finishing my sentence. . I looked up to see another man, tall, dark and slouchy descending the stairs. He smiled, kind of lopsided-like, and took an unlit cigarette from between his lips. "What, nobody told her?"
"I." with no memory of bending my knees, I hit the chair hard.
Faye, meanwhile, had turned several colors-most nearly unnatural-in rapid succession. "I should have known." I heard her murmur. "Why did I ever doubt it?" she cracked a disturbing smile and laughed lowly.
"Um.Faye?" I tried.
She spun around and exploded at the man on the steps. "So this is where you've been the past year? Spike Spiegel--you fucking Lunkhead!"
The name sounded familiar. I looked the man over, wondering if I'd met him before. He stood with his shoulders sloping, but I could tell that Spike was tall. He was skinny, tanned, and sported a head of green hair that looked almost like an accident. He's looks were distinct, but they triggered no memory. It had to be the name.
"Hello to you too, Faye," he replied, not seeming the least bit offended. In fact, when Faye had shouted, his grin widened.
She frowned. "Is that all you have to say? Hello?" with clenched fists she stalked towards him, Shin nearly jumping out of her way.
"You're supposed to be dead," she growled.
Spike exhaled loudly. "I told you-"
"You weren't going off to die-I know. Don't bother spitting out that crap again, I don't want your speeches you selfish bastard. Do you even know what you put us through?"
"Why Faye," he smirked. "You almost sound caring."
"Fuck off!"
"Ouch."
I stared at the two of them in shock, which worsened as soon as it hit me who Spiegel was. I'd just remembered what Marla had said: Spike Spiegel was the Dragon Slayer, the urban legend who'd killed a powerful Syndicate leader just a days after that leader killed the Van in a bloody coup.
It then occurred to me that if Spike had killed the old leader of the Red Dragons, that meant that he was the new leader..
So there was Faye, screaming and cursing in the face of one of the most powerful and dangerous people on Mars. I felt like throwing up. My only comfort was the expression on Spike's face. He seemed to almost enjoy the tantrum before him, taking it all with a lazy smile and a few quipped retorts.
Even the other Syndicate men in the room, who were all watching with interest, looked in good humor. Nobody made any move for their weapons, which made me feel a bit better. I don't know much about the mob, but I know that anyone talking to the Godfather the way Faye did wouldn't be alive at the end of the movie.
But the mood seemed to chance when Faye slapped the cigarette right out of Spike's hand. He watched it fall to the ground, then turned his eyes back to Faye with a serious expression.
"I'm not playing with you, Spike, I don't give a rat's ass about your come-backs," she hissed. "I know I can't get you to take me seriously, but I can fucking well make you pay attention."
His eyebrows arched slightly, and he waited for her to continue.
"Don't even talk to me about caring, hypocrite. You could have at least told us you were alive."
He had absolutely no facial expression-and that still bothers me. "Do you really think it would have been a good idea to contact you with all the Syndicate activity?" Spike asked her, but she accepted that response with a snort.
"Bull. Don't even think telling me you did it to protect us, because that's shit. I know it, and you probably do too. In fact-" Faye cut herself off with a sort of surprised look, as if she'd just forgotten where she was and what she was doing. She'd been standing on tiptoe to glare in Spike's face more easily, but she then lowered herself down to ground level.
"No." she said slowly, shaking her head. "Forget this, I'm not even going to bother."
Spike's eyebrows arched again, but it seemed more natural than melodramatic this time.
Faye shook her head again and with her hands on her hips, looked back up at Spike with an irritated-but otherwise calm-expression. "Ya know what?" she said. "Never mind."
"That's surprisingly rational of you, Faye." It looked like his original grin might return, but Faye wasn't about to allow it.
"I meant never mind ~you~," she responded curtly. "I'm done. I made my peace with this; I said goodbye to you already and this is not hello."
Spike opened his mouth but Faye continued quickly.
"Don't worry, I'll make sure Marla's set straight. You're pretty little empire wont get muddy because of me. Handle things on your side, I'll handle them on mine, and you'll have nothing to complain about except the same old stuff about proud women."
Then they were both quiet, staring at each other for a moment. I watched them with a knot in my stomach, and the other agents in the room stared just as intently. Only the two in the center seemed to be immune to the tension in the air.
Then it was Faye's turn to smirk. "See you, space cowboy," she said, and with that she turned on her heel and walked out the door, disappearing as the tinted glass slid shut behind her.
Spike stared after her for a second or two, then shrugged. He turned back towards the stairs he'd come down, grinding out the still smoldering cigarette with his heel as he went.
"Same old woman," he mused. That smirk-although a little smaller-had returned, and he wore it while stuffing his hands in his pockets. He ascended the stairs without taking notice of the small crowd staring at him, whistling some old tune all the way, and only pausing to glance back down at me and then at Shin, asking, "Is this Faye's kid or did you get a girlfriend?"
That's when my brain turned on, and my face turned red. I ran out the door after Faye, calling her name in a whimpering yell. I'd only just made it out of the foyer and into the street when I stopped. It was twilight by now, and Faye was hard to see in that black coat of hers. I had to turn my head to look up and down the street twice before I spotted her. But before I could move to pursue someone caught my arm.
It was Shin, but I yelped anyway, afraid of being dragged back into the Dragon's building without Faye to protect me.
"Take it easy!" cried Shin, releasing my arm immediately. "I just wanted to remind you that the Circle has targeted you and Miss Val-Gatsby, I mean."
"Oh yeah." I managed, realizing that I'd forgotten that fact for a moment, probably because I'd wished to repress the thought. "But-Faye said she.she would fix it.wasn't that what she said to him back there?" I pointed at the hotel with my thumb, and saw that my hand shook a little.
Shin produced a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to me. "I know that your friend doesn't want involvement." he tired. He motioned to the paper and I saw that it was a business card for the blandly named East Tharsis Grand Hotel.
"If you run into more Circle trouble that number will call the front desk," Shin explained. "Just tell whoever answers that you need an escort, he'll know what it means."
"What does it mean?"
He smiled at my ignorance. "When we picked you up this afternoon, that was an 'escort'."
I pictured the black Rolls Royce, the gunman, the windows tinted on the inside and out, and I managed an, "Oh.um. thank you." Pocketing the card, I gave a struggling polite bow and then rushed off after Faye at full speed.
I caught up with her two blocks later, and then asked her to explain what had gone on back at that hotel. "What was all that stuff you said- about fixing things and chain reactions. and stuff.?"
"Bar," said Faye.
"And how come you didn't say you knew Spike Spiegel when Marla brought it up, she'd gonna have a freakout and make things worse you know."
"Bar," said Faye.
"And how come you were yelling at him like tha-" I stopped short as Faye's hands clamped down on my shoulders, holding me still and forcing me to look her in the face. For all that energy and strength she'd displayed back there while facing Spiegel, Faye looked exhausted. Like fabric worn too thin. She had the eyes of a woman three times her age.
"Vivika," she said slowly, smiling patiently although with a bit of condescension, "I need a bar." Fingering the card in my pocket, I nodded compliantly, and we turned our heading towards the bright 'Liquor' sign down the street.
To Be Continued
And there it is, chapter 3! I was in such a rush to post that I didn't proofread, so please forgive the usual errors.
Now for my handy dandy commentary!
Okay so you may notice that a lot of questions are presented and left unanswered in this chapter. Remember folks that Vivika, the narrator, doesn't know the back-story of Spike and Faye, and since she is telling the story, I can't write down explanations for character's actions that the narrator herself wouldn't be able to explain. (I think I just confused myself with that one.)
On to topic 2- realism is fun! One of my reviewers described Marla as "borderline Mary Sue" I think, and I'm sorry but I have no idea what that means. Part of the problem people seem to have with Marla is that she is a pretty outrageous person, and readers don't find her realistic. So here's where the irony comes in, because I modeled her character, partially, after an actually person. Marla is a combination of Tom Buchanan and Gatsby from the book The Great Gatsby, but I also got a lot of her traits from William Randolph Hearst (thus Marla's last name).
For history- the real Hearst was a millionaire who was pretty influential for a time in American History because he owned his own newspaper, which he often used to sway public opinion to his point of view. He had a very.quirky personality so to speak. A very famous movie called Citizen Kane (sp?) is a sort of "version" of Hearst's life, Kane's character being modeled after William Randolf Hearst. (can you say, "Rosebud"?)
And finally, for notes on this chapter in relation to the next, you can look foreword to both angst from Faye and a fight scene! The F/S stuff, for all you fans, is of course just beginning, and don't worry, Jet and Ed (and Ein of course!) will be coming too, but not for a while yet so keep your shirts on.
All that said, thank you to my reviewers so so much!! I meant to do one of those things where people are thanked individually, but I really wanted to get this chap up as soon as it was done since the wait was so long, so maybe next chapter.
Thank you once again, I look forward to comments always. Compliments are lovely and criticism is of course accepted and appreciated as long as it's not in flame format.
Please review!