Author's Notes: Thank you to Emmithar for forcing me to do this. And for literally writing the first part of this. You're a life-saver. And for also being such a good sport about helping me do research on one thing and having me go in a different direction. On the flip side, she did learn a lot about Cajun heritage. Lol. You're the best, girl.

Let me know what you think! Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed last time...you made my day!

Jenny

Chapter Four:

"Has anyone called?" Greg asked groggily, sitting up in bed. He felt worse than before, which was a miracle that was beyond him.

Angelle came around, pressing a hand to his head with a sigh. "You're running a fever again pigeon, I told you that you shouldn't have taken that hot shower." She tsked lightly, ignoring his earlier question. "I'll get you some water, and we'll see if you can hold that down before giving you anything else."

"Did Sara call?" Greg wondered again, brushing her hand from his face. He was still upset with her, but barely able to control it as a wave of nausea rolled over him.

"I'm sorry Greg, no one has. I know how much you want to talk with them, but they just don't care."

"They seemed to care when I talked with them earlier," Greg pointed out, scowling. If only he could get this horrendous headache to die down then he could argue reasonably.

"Earlier?" Angelle laughed, smiling sadly, "You must have been dreaming. You've been sleeping all afternoon."

Greg snorted, "Dreaming? You were outside with us Angie, you saw them just as well as I did. Apparently the calls haven't been coming through. Hard for me to know, since you never let me answer the phone anymore."

"Outside?" she laughed, "Greg dear, you haven't been outside since the day you came home from the hospital. You've been dreaming, poor thing. Let Angie get you something to calm you down."

"I wasn't dreaming," Greg stated firmly, looking at her. "I saw what I saw. After I took my shower I dressed, and then went outside. You were watching your soap operas."

"Oh Cher bebe', don't you remember? You fell in the shower, passed out. It was a good thing I was putting clean blankets on your bed too, you could have drowned. The doctors says you probably moved around to much, you may feel better, but you're still sick."

"I, no, I know that I talked with them, call Sara, let me call her and ask her, she'll tell you." he wasn't able to finish as he broke out into a coughing fit.

Angelle stroked his back, waiting for him to calm down. "Don't get yourself all worked up, I'll call her if you really want me too. I just don't want to see you get hurt anymore. You deserve better than her, I don't know why you keep on trying."

Greg drew in a raspy breath, leaning back against the pillows. Maybe he had imagined it all, maybe he had passed out, that would explain why he felt so tired. But everything seemed so real; the conversation, the smell of the fresh air. He let out a sigh, feeling more tired than before, and certainly more confused than ever.

--

"Someone has to tell Greg." Catherine said quietly, handing Sara Angelle's rap sheet, "He could be in serious danger."

"I can't tell him, he'd never believe me," Sara said quickly, shaking her head vigorously, "Besides, that witch won't let me anywhere near him."

Catherine plucked the paper back from Sara's hands, sighing heavily. She had assumed Sara would want to help out her friend, considering the possible danger he was facing. Glancing down at the paper, then back at Sara, she said firmly, "I'll do it, but you need to get Angelle out of their place long enough for me to talk to him. You said you could reach them through Greg's number, right?"

"Right."

"Well, call her and get her out of their apartment." Catherine said quietly, reviewing the list of charges.

Sara glanced skeptically at Catherine, shaking her head with disbelief, "Are you insane? Do you really think she'd willingly do anything I suggest. How do you expect me to get her out of the house?"

"You've talked to her, find something that will catch her interest." Catherine replied, standing and walking to the door, "Call me when you have it arranged, we need to get out of here before someone catches us rifling around where we aren't supposed to be."

Catherine walked out of the office, leaving a defeated Sara frowning at the floor. This was going to be nearly impossible.

--

"Down in Louisiana, where the black trees grow,

Lives a voodoo lady named Marie Laveau"

Angelle draped a black sheet over the kitchen blinds, tapping her foot off beat to the music she had ingrained in her head. She turned the burner on the stove from the number five to three, and stirred it slowly using a heavy iron ladle. She grew quiet, letting the concoction slowly boil for a few moments.

She draped her black shawl over her shoulders, slowly creeping towards the bedroom. Greg's even breathing told her he was still asleep, and she gave a silent praise before turning around and opening the balcony door. She knelt on the ground beside a potted plant, taking a bit of soil and the bud off of one of the stems. Making sure no one was watching her, she slipped back inside.

"Got a black cat's tooth and a mojo bone

And anyone who wouldn't leave her alone..."

Doing a two-step turn, she made her way back to the stove, opening an unlabeled jar and pinching a bit of the herb between her fingers, dropping it into the pot. Looking over her shoulder, towards Greg's room, she shrugged and dropped a second pinch in. She hated to do this to him, but he had brought it on himself.

Lighting a candle, she said a silent chant before turning the stove back up to full heat.

"She'd go ieee...another man done gone"

She cursed loudly as the phone rang, interrupting not only her song, but her ritual. She hurried to answer it, glaring at the contraption when she saw the familiar name pop up on the caller id.

"Hello?"

"Angelle? This is Sara, you know, from--"

"I know who you are." Angelle replied impatiently, moving to the stove and stirring the contents of the iron pot. "Greg's asleep. What do you want?"

Sara's first instinct was to snap at Angelle, but taking a calming breath, she responded, "We got off to a rocky start. Obviously you're very important to Greg...I think it would be a good idea for us to sit down and talk."

"I don't think that's a good idea." Angelle replied, distracted by her stove top concoction, "I don't really have anything to say to you."

Sara paused, disappointed even though she had expected that response. Deciding to give it another try, she took a deep breath and hurriedly spit out, "I know you two are together, and I'm not going to try and get him back. I just want to be his friend, and it would mean a lot to me to be your friend as well."

"I'm not interested, Sara." Angelle replied, pressing the "end" button while blowing out her candle.

She lit a separate candle, bending over the stove and draping her shawl over the concoction, muttering a few quiet words in French. Dipping Greg's toothbrush in the mixture, she let it sit for a few minutes, her eyes shut tightly as she let the spirits guide her. A burst of adrenaline pumped through her veins as she whispered her chant repetitively, her blood pounding in her ears as she began to tremble. As her voice started to grow louder, her concentration was broken by the shrill ringing of Greg's cell phone.

"What!" Angelle snapped, enraged at being interrupted again. Blowing out her candle, she slammed her fist against the counter. If she kept getting interrupted, she'd never finish this elixir before Greg woke up.

Sara's voice rang through the phone once more, obviously taken aback by Angelle's greeting, "Angelle? It's Sara again. I think we should give each other a chance...our first meeting was on really bad terms, and obviously neither of us handled ourselves well--"

"Fine, meet me tomorrow morning at the diner on Tropicana. Do you know the one I'm talking about?"

"By the construction site?" Sara asked, "What time?"

"That's the one. Meet me out front at 9 am. We'll do this, but only for Greg. I'll be honest with you, I have no desire to be your friend, or your anything. But I do love Greg, and I'm sure this would mean a lot to him..."

"Okay then, the diner at 9. See you then."

Angelle hung up the phone, hastily turning it off before she could be interrupted again. She couldn't believe Sara's audacity. What on Earth could they possibly have to talk about?

Checking on Greg once more, she rubbed her neck, trying to relax and loosen up again. She had to get this finished before Greg woke up and started asking questions. As she struck the match against the box, she narrowed her eyes, putting everything down and walked into the living room, opening her suitcase and pulling out a book.

Why hadn't she thought of this before? It wasn't as if she hadn't dealt with needy ex-girlfriends before, they were almost guaranteed in her line of work. Normally they were a much bigger nuisance than this Sara girl. And they all had been handled the same way...flipping the aged book to a marked page, she sighed happily. She would need to restock her inventory soon, but she had just enough to take care of Sara Sidle long enough to achieve her goals with Greg.

Bringing the book with her, she laid it on the counter, closing her eyes and stepping towards the stove. Exhaling deeply, she lit her candle and began to chant once more.

No one dared to cross Angelle Ogeron, and while the people in Greg's life weren't aware of that before, they'd surely be aware of it now.

TBC

Song used: Marie Laveau by Bobby Bare