The Fury Saga Book 8 - Soul Mates free porn video

Soul Mates -------------- (c) Darkside Oct 2000 WARNING: This story contains acts of graphic violence and acts of a sexual nature. Do not read if you are at all offended by such material, delete it from your disk now and read no further. This story should not be read by anyone under the age of eighteen so if this is you please do not proceed. After six years of planning and writing, the Fury saga is now complete. If you wondered why there's been no new Darkside stories for 16 months it's because it's taken me that long to write this; so enjoy. More thanks than I can say go to Vickie Tern who, it's safe to say is the main reason why I continued on. Vickie was up until 3am proofing this for me, so any errors are mine for working her too hard. Please, please please take the time to let me know what you think (good, bad and suggestions are welcome). You giving me feedback is the only payment I get for writing. You will need to have read the rest of the saga to fully understand what is going on here. The story is meant to be read in conjunction with streaming real audio and hyperlinks. Cue intro music, find a comfy chair and settle down to read the final part of the fury saga. This time the battlefield is no longer the body, it's the soul. Comments to [email protected] Soul Mates -------------- (c) Darkside Oct 2000 'There is a greater darkness than the one we fight. It is the darkness of the soul that has lost its way. The war we fight is not against powers and principalities. It is against chaos and despair! Greater than the death of flesh is the death of hope, the death of dreams. Against this peril we can never surrender. The future is all around us, waiting in moments of transition to be born in moments of revelation. No one knows the shape of that future or where it will take us. We know only that it is always born in pain." J Michael Straczynski Prologue. -------------- The showers that had been threatening that morning had now developed into a full scale thunderstorm, a fact that did not deter the two women and a man standing near an open graveside. The smaller of the two women clasped hold of the man's hand and put her head on his shoulder. The other woman towered above them both, her blonde hair tied back into a ponytail and she was holding a large golfing style umbrella, which was doing it's best to keep the cortege dry. From across the other side of the graveyard a man dressed in a brown raincoat looked on at the proceedings thru his miniature binoculars. The man brushed away a tear as he saw the other man slowly stoop down and place a single red rose into the open grave. The two women repeated the gesture and then drew each other into a comforting embrace. A cell phone inside the man's coat pocket interrupted his thoughts and he quickly reached inside to answer it, "Hello?" "Friday, this is Heinlein are you ready to proceed?" "Can I just have a few more minutes?" the man asked. "You're needed to pick up the merchandise now." "Ok will do, Heinlein?" "Yes Friday?" "You're a bastard!" the man said bitterly and disconnected the call. Placing the cell phone back in his pocket the man gave another sigh. 'Only fifteen more years to go', he thought. But then, what's fifteen years when you have at least another century. -- o -- o -- o -- Fifteen Years Later. --------------------------- A young girl sat sobbing in her room. Her long auburn hair was in disarray and swept in front of her face. Still crying, the girl rubbed her eyes and flopped back onto the bed. A few minutes later there was a knock at the door. "Elizabeth, can I come in?" a female voice asked. "If you have to mom," Elizabeth replied with an edge of sarcasm. The door opened and in walked a woman of about forty. She had pale olive brown skin, deep brown eyes and her silky long black hair was tied back into an elegant ponytail. She was greeted by a cold, hard stare from the girl's blue/gray eyes. The ferocity of the stare sent shivers down the woman's spine, it was a stare that brought back so many horrific memories. Composing herself, she sat down by the bed and put a motherly hand on the girl's leg. The women then started to talk. Her voice was full of concern and tenderness, "Elizabeth, we thought you had the right to know. We were waiting for the chance to tell you. We're just sorry you just had to find out like this." "When were you going to tell me? When I was about to get married? When I was fifty? I mean being an identical copy of one of the most feared women of the last century isn't something you happen to drop into a mother-daughter chat, is it!" Elizabeth gave her mother another soul piercing stare. "Actually we had decided that eighteen was the best age, sooner, if you were up to knowing. I guess fifteen isn't a age bad to find out either. The point is, is we love you no matter who you are. It doesn't matter to me, your dad, Auntie Cathline and to anyone who knows you or us. The only people who would care are those who might like to make a sensational story and some dirty money out of it. The rest of the world has no idea who you are and they never will, I promise." "If I can suss it out someone else can, and then where would that leave me? I'd be imprisoned right away, for the good of society. Now I know why you make me take my medicine every day. I always thought it was to stop my asthma. I don't even have asthma so it turns out. It's not asthma medicine is it? It's Olanzapine. That's not an asthma medicine! It's for controlling schizophrenia. That's how I found out. I saw the prescription!" Elizabeth cried. Elizabeth heard a set of footsteps walking towards the door. That'll be Dad she thought, "Come in Dad." A tall man with blonde hair, streaked with gray strode in. "Hello little mite' he said softly. "Don't you little mite me! I know what you and mom kept from me! I thought you loved me. I thought you cared for me! I hate you and if you think I'm taking any more medicine ever..." Elizabeth brushed her mom's hand away from her leg and rose, ready to storm out of the room. Her dad's hand reached out, grabbed her arm and gently sat her back down on the bed again. He then sat down beside her and started to speak, "When we found out your mom was pregnant and the circumstances in which you came to be we had a choice." "But she's not my real mom is she! The 'hell bitch' is isn't she?" Elizabeth spat the words at her father. "She's your biological mother, true. But she died a long time ago. She didn't nurse you, bring you into the world, read you stories in the middle of the night when you got scared. Dr Bexley is maybe who you are genetically, but you're not her. I knew her even before your mother did and you are nothing like her. Please to God don't ever think you are capable of what she did, because you're not and never will be!" "Is that why you lied to me about my asthma medicine? Quickly changing the subject Elizabeth's mother continued, "As I was saying we had a decision to make. I either carried you to term or had an abortion. Even though you weren't biologically mine I loved you as though you were and I still do. You knew where you came from, we told you that years ago" Elizabeth's tone softened, "I can't call you mom can I? You told me I was a clone of dad, not a clone of HER. Is that why you had John, so that you could have a child of your own? You couldn't have known this from the start. Dr Bexley would never have told you. When did you find out?" "I am your mom. And as for John that's just plain stupid. We love both of you just the same. We found out about ten years ago. As you know you get record scores on your SAT's, have a reading age ten years above your actual one, and have an IQ of above 160. Dr Bexley told us that you were Dad's clone and we believed her. However since Dr Bexley's transformation drug left the brain intact and only altered the body then there was no way you could have gotten those scores if she was telling the truth. We took you in for tests and found out that our suspicions were correct." Elizabeth's eyes welled up with tears once more, "That I'm the clone of one of the most terrifying women of the 20th century. Kat, why didn't you tell me earlier? Am I an exact clone? I read that Dr Bexley had a genetic flaw in her brain that under certain circumstances caused extreme psychopathic and homicidal tendencies. Do I have that? Is that why you gave me Olanzapine?" Kat nodded, "I'm still your mom, we love you very deeply and just as much as we love John. Yes you do have the same flaw and yes that's why we give you Olanzapine, just in case." -- o -- o -- o-- Five Years Later. ------------------------- He was in the middle of a conversation when he saw her, such was the effect of her on him that he immediately forgot what he was talking about and watched her walk into the biological sciences faculty. The cut of her skirt-pants was perfect and allowed him to appreciate her slender and toned body as she passed by. "Hey Mark, did you know your PDA's crashed?" "Sorry?" Mark said, his mind still on this mysterious woman he'd just seen. "You were way out there guy. I mean totally Jacko'd out," Wills said. Mark smiled a knowing smile back at Wills. They'd been friends since kindergarten. By now they each knew the others every whim, and foible, "I've never seen you look at a woman like that. Sure looks as though you've got it bad," Wills continued. "Got what bad?" Mark answered defensively. Wills gave a grin and shrugged, "Never mind. You better reboot your PDA, otherwise you'll lose the essay we were working on." Mark flipped the small, oval shaped plastic object over and quickly depressed the CTRL-ALT and DELETE buttons on the side. He remembered his Dad telling him about the 'old days' of QWERTY keyboards, mice and such like paraphernalia. Standards died hard though and now the only remains of the 'old days were these three discrete red buttons. A few seconds later and the Sony-Micro-Sun-Paq logo appeared on the screen and the PDA was ready for work again. "Better check that essay," Wills stated. "Who was that?" Mark asked, still distracted by the memory of the girl. "Mark?" Wills queried. "Sorry," Mark said and spoke to his PDA "PDA, verify contents of memory" After a few seconds A dulcet female voice replied, "Everything's intact Mark. Do you want to backup your data?" "PDA, Sure, how long till my next lecture?" The PDA's voice replied, "Mark, your next lecture is in 10 minutes. From your current location it will take you 15 minutes to get there. Do you want to mail the lecturer stating a reason for your lateness?" "Shit!" Marked exclaimed and then added, "PDA Don't bother, I'll make it." "See ya after hours?" Wills asked. "Same place same time," Mark had time to call as he began to sprint to his next lecture. -- o -- o -- o -- The woman who had been Mark's focus of attention sat down at large, fake mahogany desk. Hunting around in her purse, she pulled out a sleeker, more expensive looking version of Mark's PDA and switched it on. A female voice, a smooth as a nightingale's song spoke out from the PDA, "Good afternoon Anne, What can I do for you?" "PDA, download the contents of the United Nations Marine Biology reports on the Coral reefs around the Maldives for the years 1995 until current day. Also give me status reports on the revised Human Genome projects, post Fury Directive til current day." Anne paused, waiting for the PDA to catch up. Although equipped with a terabyte molecular storage datacard it still took a few seconds to store information. A few seconds later the PDA replied, "Done." "Ok. PDA, show me the status of my bank account, screen only, apply private code 249 modulus 69. Password is, " Anne paused for a few moments before typing the word 'Phoenix' into the PDA's virtual keyboard. The PDA flashed a large seven figure sum on screen. Anne nodded in approval and then added, "PDA, show bank account status private code 148 modulus 63. Password is," Anne typed in the word 'daughter' "Anne, your current bank account is one hundred and three dollars and twenty four cents," The PDA replied. "Thank's. PDA display contents of the reports you just downloaded." Anne sat back on her chair and started to read. -- o -- o -- o -- Mark's tutorial dragged on forever; his mind was still on the girl he'd just seen walk into the faculty building. Even though his grades were borderline at best and this close to the end of his Ph.D. he needed spectacular grades in order to even scrape a pass. However, at this point in time none of this bothered him. The girl going into the faculty building was all that mattered. Mark day dreamed about the girl, how her hair fell in perfect formation onto her shoulders, how her shape was contoured by her skirt-pants. In his mind the girl performed a delicate pirouette, showing every inch of her perfect form. He could imagine running his fingers thru her blonde hair, the smell of her perfume and most pleasing of all the sound of her voice. It was like music from the gods. If Helen of Troy could speak it would be like this. His mind moved deeper into his fantasy. She would, he decided be like an iron fist in an ever so soft velvet glove. She would be feminine, with all the little girl vulnerabilities but have a steel backbone. She would be like the willow delicate, supple but unbreakable in the strongest wind. She would be his shelter in the storm and he, like the oak would be hers. Still in his dream world Mark tried out various conversations with her, examining each permutation in meticulous detail. They ranged from a simple 'hi' in a corridor to flowers to her dorm, with him dressed as a delivery clown. The way to her heart, he decided was to make her laugh, because her laugh would ensnare his heart and never let go. The sound of chairs being moved backwards woke him from his daydream, the tutorial was over already and he hadn't listened to a word! Hopefully his PDA had got enough storage space to record it and he could get the gist of it. Quickly packing up his stuff and after making a quick excuse to Wills he sprinted off to the library. She should still be there, she had to! Breathless he bolted into the library, much to the disdain of the librarian and looked around. She was nowhere to be seen. He tried to look interested in the rows of books as if searching for a vital fragment of information but in reality he was scanning the mostly empty tables for a glimpse of her. A few minutes later, his hopes shattered and his heart in pieces he walked out of the library. She was gone! Mark tried his best to hide his disappointment at not seeing the girl again. His pride wouldn't let him play the lovesick teenager and go to the girls dorm and ask about her but try as he might he couldn't get the girl out of his mind. He thought about going back into the library to ask around but he'd promised Wills he'd go and check out the latest Kweepa and Rooney movie and besides, he was due to go on a field trip to Egypt for a couple of weeks tomorrow. Still, he thought there was plenty of semester left to find her and it'd wait until he got back. -- o -- o -- o -- "Here take a flyer miss," a well groomed young man pointed his PDA at the object of Mark's daydreams. There was a small beep and the man moved onto his next target. The woman wished that somebody would invent an advertising bypass function in a PDA but even her top of the range model wasn't immune to online adverts and generally annoying commercials. Reluctantly she looked down at the flyer that had been placed in her PDA. The sight of it made her sick, she hated cults. Especially this one, this one gave her the creeps and chilled her to the bone. The flyer said " o She was the most misunderstood woman of the 20th century. o Her self sacrifice and compassion is a lesson to us all. o She gave up her one true love to show us how to love. o Her life was a lesson on how to forgive and obtain forgiveness. o Do you want to learn to love? Do you want to learn to forgive? Do you need forgiveness and inner peace? If the answer is yes please call 'The Children of Bexley' One person CAN make a difference. If she could have she would have torn the flyer up and thrown it to the four winds but instead she deleted from her PDA, gave a deep sad sigh and walked back to her dorm. Sinking down onto her bed she thought back to the flyer. Seeing it upset her more than she let on. Why did these people insist on latching onto a woman who had been dead nearly thirty years? Why couldn't they find another 20th century woman to latch onto, Mother Theresa, Princess Diana, Anne Frank, just anyone but Dr Elizabeth Bexley. Part of her wanted to attend one of their meetings, to prove them wrong, to correct the error of their ways, but deep down she knew it would be a futile gesture. Anyway she had larger things to attend to, like her upcoming move to England. Things were nearly ready and the timetable had just been finalized. She would spend the first two years of her doctorate in England and finish her final year back in the USA. With no family ties, such a move was a no- brainer. Wearily she picked up her PDA and started to read. 'The last thirty years has seen a dramatic reduction in the coral surrounding the Maldives. It was determined back in the 1970's that coral is the indicator to the ecological health of the Ocean. Such a decline can only mean that the environmental death of the Indian Ocean is less than sixty years away. This paper will outline the rationale behind this statement'. Unable to concentrate further she put the PDA down on the bed, closed her eyes and dreamt of happier days to come. The trip to England was two days away and she still had a lot to do. -- o -- o -- o -- "And this will be your room, Miss Stephens," A small matronly woman opened a large wooden door and gestured inside. Elizabeth walked into the room called ,"lights," and was a little surprised that the lights didn't slowly come on. "Oh didn't I mention, we don't have voice activated appliances here. Here just use the switch," the women gestured to a small switch on the wall and as if to demonstrate her point flicked it on. "Switch? How quaint," Elizabeth said under her breath. The room was how she expected a dorm at Cambridge to be. All old world, dark wood and musty. Bookcases lined the wall, an old fireplace with a sooty white marble hearth was against one wall. The doors leading into the other rooms had a used look about them and the green carpet had seen better days. The only clue that this was now the 21st century was a Sony-Nintendo picture screen on the far wall, apart from that the date could have been anytime from the last two hundred years. "If you follow me I'll show you to your room," the woman said, pointing to one of the doors. "This has got two bedrooms?" Elizabeth queried. "Didn't your mother mention, you're going to have a roommate." Elizabeth frowned, the last thing she needed was some prissy English girl getting in the way. Still at least she was here, on her own and about to embark on her greatest challenge to date. Elizabeth said none of this, only "No she didn't but I'm sure it'll be fine. Do you know her name?" The woman gave a shrug, "No, All I know is that she's from London." "Which London, old or new?" Elizabeth queried. "New I think. It's all the same place to me dear." Elizabeth was already getting bored with inane British conversation and decided to make her excuses. "If you don't mind I've had a long trip and could really do with a shower and some time to unpack. Do I need to sign in or anything?" "No that's fine. I hope you've brought some warm clothes with you, it talks about being chilly tonight," the woman said, not really getting the message. "I'll be fine," Elizabeth replied. "I hope so. This is nothing like living on that Island of yours is it? Mind you, I do feel jealous of you, y'know. With your parents being so famous n all. I wanted to be famous, did I ever tell you..." Elizabeth desperately wanted to stop the conversation and imagined reaching down the woman's throat and ripping her tongue out. Instead, she smiled sweetly and replied, "I'm sorry I really am very tired. I'm sure we'll get chance to talk some more." "Oh that would be nice, I always cook scones on Friday and you're welcome to join me." Elizabeth nodded and wondered what ripping out someone's tongue would feel like , "That'd be nice. Goodbye." "Cheerio, nice to meet you, " the woman said, and closed the door behind her. Taking a deep breath Elizabeth walked into her room and in spite of herself flopped down onto the bed and fell asleep. Elizabeth was awakened an indeterminate time later by someone hammering on the door. Groggily she stretched out, swung her legs off the bed and walked towards the door. It wasn't until she had got closer she heard a male voice call out "Hey Kiddo, I know you're in there. What's up sleepy head, the English weather got you down already?" The voice was followed by another staccato series of loud bangs. Elizabeth groaned inwardly, but decided to leave the comment for when she opened the door. She wondered what kind of face would best suit the moment and decided nonchalant disdain would send the right kind of message. With all necessary measures in place she opened the door. Standing in front of her was a tall, olive skinned man with deep brown eyes, raven black hair, and a confident looking grin on his face. He was wearing the latest Beckham-Kline shirt with its wide collar and triple breasted pockets and she noted the now traditional Neo-UV sunglasses poking out of one of the pockets. "Hi Kiddo. Pleased to see me?" the man's rich, deep voice asked. After the question the man's eyes gave a mischievous twinkle and he broke out into a broad disarming smile. The bright white teeth showing in start contrast to the dark olive skin. Elizabeth couldn't help but smile. He ALWAYS did that to her. She'd get all wound up, ready to unleash some devastating put down; but when she tried to launch it, it just died somehow. All she could manage to say was "Oh Hi it's you. You on your own?" The man gave another knowing smile. "Who else calls you kiddo? Mom's here as well, she just parking the car." Elizabeth tried her best to emulate the disarming smile, but she knew she couldn't really pull it off. "And you can cut the kiddo crap out as well. You're only four months older than me anyhow. You'd better come in. I've not had chance to unpack yet so I can't offer you much in the way of a drink." "So'k we were well fed on the starplane." "You got to go on one of those? I thought there wasn't a regular service yet?" Elizabeth stated. The boredom and stress of a nine hour flight from New York hadn't yet subsided. "Mom pulled a few strings. It was out of this world. You take off from JFK like a normal jet, climb to 50,000 feet and then WHAM the ramjet kicks in until you're nearly in low orbit. You get another WHAM when the rocket part of the engine kicks in and presto New York to London in under an hour. They say it'll do NY to Sydney in under two. A-F-ing-mazing. Brits invented the thing too, years ago just nobody wanted to put money into it." "You make me sick. You always manage to go one better don't you." Elizabeth said jokingly. "Hey that's what I'm here for." "AND it helps that your mom is Rachel Martin doesn't it?" "That too. Hey I'm really tired after my 50 minute flight. Can I sit down?" the man asked, and gave a long false yawn. "Sure, you can see where the sofa is", Elizabeth replied, not rising to the bait. "Was someone just talking about me?" A voice called out from behind the doorway. Elizabeth gave a squeal of delight and ran to hug the figure now standing at the door, "Auntie Cathline! Hi" Cathline responded to the hug, "Hi Lizzy, long time no see." "You betcha. You look great! Come in." Cathline gave a smile, "Thanks I always look great." This was a running family 'in joke'. Now nearly fifty, Cathline could still pass for less than thirty. When people asked her how she did it she'd always reply with the comment "it's in the genes". Cathline Richards alias Rachel Martin could still stun a room of people with her grace and beauty. Still grinning from ear to ear, Elizabeth beckoned Cathline to sit down next to her son. Elizabeth sat down on the opposite armchair. "Is mom and dad coming over?" Elizabeth asked expectantly. Cathline's perfect face dropped a little, "They couldn't make it this week. Senator Jameson's asked them to help out with his presidential campaign so they're all caught up in that. Kat, sorry. Your mom asked if I wanted to run for Congress as well but I'm not into that kinda thing." The man sitting next to Cathline patted her leg in mock comfort, "Ahhh how sad, you'll just have to put up with being a roving UN Ambassador won't you." "So that's how you pulled off the Starplane flight?" Elizabeth stated. "That's an abuse of privilege isn't it?" Her quip hid over the fact that she was bitterly disappointed that her parents hadn't turned up to see her settle in, typical! At least Cathline was here. Cathline gave another devastating smile, "Hey not my idea. It was Alex's. It's not my fault he talked me into it." Alex gave an incredulous look "No Mom it wasn't was it?" Elizabeth relaxed a little. Being with Cathline always had that effect on her. Her son, Alex however had the opposite effect. Somehow he knew what buttons to press to make her feel off balance and awkward. It was a knack that usually only big brothers have, but he seemed to have acquired it anyhow somewhere down the line too. Elizabeth was saddened to hear that her mom and dad couldn't make the trip and on that thought said, "I'd have thought mom and dad could put aside just one trip to see me settle in." Cathline gave a comforting smile, "They do love you Y'know. When they said that they couldn't come I thought the same thing as you. Kat as always knew what I was thinking and explained that they trust you to do the right thing and that you have it all in hand. Of course they'll visit next week just to be sure, but I wouldn't worry about them not loving you. Kat cried herself to sleep at the thought of her little girl moving away for so long. They will miss you. Alex dear go and swipe the meter for me, I'm not sure how much time I put on it." "OK mom," Alex said, and left the room. "Good! Now he's gone for a while, so I can say what I really want to say." Cathline said in a secretive way. "Which is?" Elizabeth offered. "I hate keeping the truth about you from Alex, but it's the best way. As far as he knows you're Kat's daughter not Dr Elizabeth Bexley's. Some things are best left unsaid. Anyway the real reason why they're not here is that they wanted you to stand up on your own for a while. Sure they'll be there to catch you if and when you fall, but they don't want to repeat the mistakes Dr Bexley's parents made of wrapping her up in cotton wool." "I know. We decided a few years ago that if we couldn't change the genetic factors we can change the environment. I'm glad you're here Cathline. I need someone to talk to." Cathline placed her hand on Elizabeth's arm, "I know that's why I came." Elizabeth suddenly had a revelation but only raised a quizzical eyebrow in response, "It's odd. I know, sorry I can feel why you're doing what you're doing. You're playing the counterbalance role aren't you. You're the soft edge to mom and dad's hard one aren't you? They've asked you to look after me in ways that they won't allow themselves to. You're my safety net. My judge and jury. What happens if I start acting like HER?" Cathline was inwardly shocked at Elizabeth's insight. She scrabbled around for an answer and tried to think of a way of averting more questions. Elizabeth would be able to spot a lie instantly. Cathline nodded slowly and answered, "You're your mother's daughter alright." Elizabeth raised her voice a little, "Which Mother? Kat or my real one?" Cathline gave a smile, "That, kiddo, is entirely up to you." Elizabeth was still rattled by her revelation. So much of her childhood slotted into place now. Why hadn't she seen it earlier? "It fits It all fits. The three of you, mom, dad and you decided as soon as you knew about me how you were going to raise me and what you were going to do in the event of me turning out like the hell bitch." Cathline could sense the anger starting to brew inside Elizabeth. She needed to defuse it and fast, "You are quite correct. But I don't see how it's any different from any other parenting. With Alex I had a plan how I was going to raise him before he was even born. I knew what I was going to say and do in certain situations before they came up. Any good parent knows how they want to bring up a child before they have one. Sure they can change plan or tack as things evolve. Listen, who you are has made no difference to the approach we used to bring you up. I'm your God Mother right?" Cathline's logic was starting to defuse Elizabeth's anger. Elizabeth just nodded in response. "Well, I take that role seriously. It's my responsibility as your God Mother to ensure that you are being brought up in the correct way. It's the same for John as it is for you. If I'm acting as the counter balance as you call it, it's because we think a counter balance is needed, not because your mother was Dr Bexley. That's an important difference." Cathline was right of course, "I hate it when you three gang up on me," Elizabeth replied. Now in full flow Cathline continued, "It's not us versus you. It's not you versus anybody. It's how Kat and Matthew decided to bring you up. I knew Elizabeth Bexley when she was a little older than you and you are nothing like her. From where I'm sitting Kat and Matthew have done a wonderful job of raising you. You're a brilliant, witty and sensitive young woman. You're more like Kat than HER and I should know. Listen, how many times must you be told before you believe us. You are nothing like your biological mother and never will be!" "Then why all the subterfuge? Why make me take Olanzapine until I was old enough to decide for myself?" That was a question Cathline refused to answer. Elizabeth however refused to let it drop. "I thought as much. You DO think I'll turn out like HER." Cathline made eye contact with Elizabeth and said, "No we don't! Out of all the time you spent with Matthew and Kat did you ever think for one second that they didn't love you?" Elizabeth knew that Cathline was right, "No," she shook her head gently. Cathline continued, "That's a thought worth holding onto don't you think? Look this is something you need to talk to Kat or Matthew about. This goes beyond my...." "Beyond What Mom?" Alex called out as he entered the room. Cathline jumped ,"Alex, don't do that to me. How long have you been lurking?" Alex shrugged "I don't lurk. The Meter was all paid up anyway. When do we eat?" Cathline turned to Alex and said, "We don't. We've got to leave now. We're taking a normal flight back, and I've got some business to attend to in New London. Elizabeth, remember what I said to you earlier. I'm sure you'll settle in just fine." "But mom, we just got here," Alex complained. "I know you want to wind up Elizabeth some more, but I think she's got enough to do. Elizabeth, nice to see you again. Say bye Alex." Alex replied with a grin, "Bye Alex" Elizabeth stood up and gave Cathline a hug, "Thanks Auntie Cathline. Tell mom and dad they were right won't you?" "Sure," Cathline said and returned Elizabeth's embrace. She was relieved she'd managed to avoid a fight with her. Kat was right. Elizabeth needed to be handled the way they'd planned it. It was the only way. -- o -- o -- o-- Angela Holden struggled with her bags as she strove to get to her new room. The cab driver had dropped her off nearly a kilometer too short and now as she clutched all her worldly goods she really wished she had some knight in shining armor to help her carry it all. She could just see her destination when she saw a very tall, stunningly beautiful woman walk out of there, followed by a tall athletic young man. The man casually looked around him, apparently taking in the serene, scholarly and timeless atmosphere that Cambridge still generated after all these centuries. Angela's heart skipped a beat as she saw him look at her struggling with her bags. He tapped the tall woman on the shoulder and whispered something to her. The woman turned and her single good eye looked right at Angela and she nodded her approval to the man. Angela eyes widened, Rachel Martin! Before she could think any further she saw that the young man was running towards her. "Hi, I noticed you were having trouble with your bags? Mind if I help?" the young man asked Angela. Angela, now fully composed, took the opportunity to study her potential rescuer. She would later describe him as tall, dark and handsome . Gallant too if his offer for help was for real. Before she could say anything he followed on, "I'm sorry my name is Alex Richards and you are..." "Angela Holden, " Angela blurted out. This is Rachel Martin's son!!! "Well Angela Holden, you have two choices. You can let me carry your bags where you want to go, as long as it's not Oxford or anything, or you can struggle with them yourself? " "I'm sorry I wasn't expecting..." Angela blurted out. She'd seen Alex's face in several magazines, but to meet him face to face had taken her breath away. In her teenage years she'd had a crush on him, and now to finally meet him was too much. Alex gave another wide smile, "It's ok, I have this effect on women all the time. Here let me take that for you," Alex offered to take the largest two bags from Angela. Much relieved Angela let the bags go and instantly felt better. Her shoulders felt raw from the straps digging into them and to have any kind of relief was a godsend. "My room's 22B, " she managed to say. She noted a 'Oh no' kind of look flick across Alex's face, but it was gone before she could be sure what it really meant. Alex hoisted the large bags onto his shoulders with an ease that surprised Angela and started off towards the direction he had come from. Angela went to show Alex where her room was, but Alex seemed to already know. "It's just on the right," Angela said. Alex nodded and put the bags down onto the floor and knocked loudly. "Ok, Ok," A voice called out from the room and Angela heard the sound of a key being turned in the lock. Angela then had her second shock of the day. Standing in front of her was none other than Elizabeth Stephens. Her hair was a little untidy and it looked as though she had just woken up. That face with it's tumbling mass of auburn hair and blue-gray eyes was unmistakable. Alex broke the silence "Before you say anything Kiddo, I'm here helping your new roomie with her bags." Angela saw those blue-gray eyes flick a curious look in her direction as if saying 'I'm not sure about this,' but then the mouth broke into a wide smile, "Hi I'm.." "Elizabeth Stephens," Angela completed in a hushed overawed tone. "No hiding from this face is there?" Elizabeth grinned. "I'll take your bags for you. Alex, in the best possible way, get lost! Auntie Cathline is waiting for you" "Okay, okay, I know when I'm not wanted," Alex tutted in such a way that Angela knew she wasn't that upset about being given his marching orders. Alex turned to Angela and said "Angela it's been a pleasure meeting you. I don't envy you having her for a roommate. If you ask me they should never have let her out." With that last comment Alex gave a single fingered salute and turned to leave. Angela turned round and gave an appreciative glance at Alex's ass, "Very nice," she commented. "So'k, you can have him," Elizabeth retorted. "Now let me show you around." -- o --o -- o-- Anne Baxter sat on the plane staring out into a bright blue sky. The view from an aircraft never ceased to amaze and stun her. She loved to lose herself in the endless variations of cloud, land and sky. To her, flying was the second most enjoyable way to travel. By far and away she preferred diving. She had first done it years ago and had never forgotten the feeling of absolute freedom and oneness with nature. It was this feeling that had driven her to study marine zoology and biology. Her career in medicine had been cut short by the love of the ocean and it was one she never intended to follow up again. She had enjoyed her time at Haverford, but now it was time to move on. Since the death of her parents when she was younger she had, had no real home, and no roots to put down, and that, she decided, was just the way she liked it. Her transfer to England had fallen thru at the last moment, something to do with her visa she was told, but she had been given an alternative placement in Tel-Aviv for six months before having to return to Haverford. Looking on the bright side Tel- Aviv was a whole lot warmer than Portsmouth and the Red Sea was more inviting than either the North Atlantic or Anglo-French Channel. Tel-Aviv had been repopulated for over ten years, the deadly agent spread by the Guild had been neutralized, the remains of the people cleared away, and much of the infrastructure rebuilt. Tel-Aviv was now one of the most modern cities in the world, the chance to improve had not been missed but still, so it was said, the aura of death hung over the city. Elizabeth had used her PDA to brush up on the new Amex-Rough guide entries on it, and the thought of living in a place where over half a million people had been slaughtered was enough to make her stomach churn. How could she walk down those streets knowing that in every house and every office block people's lives had been snuffed out? She shut out anymore thoughts and reflected back on what she really wanted to do. Go diving, study marine life, and finish her dissertation. The plane was starting it's descent and she would be in Tel-Aviv in just over twenty minutes. -- o -- o -- o-- "Ok then, Heels or flats?" Angela grinned. "Flats, anytime," Elizabeth replied. "Same here. We're about the same height and heels make me look far too tall," Angela retorted. They'd been playing the 'answer right away' game for a while now. "My turn. Skirt Pants or Skirts, " Elizabeth asked, casting a quick glance to the black Skirt-Pant she was wearing. "It's pretty obvious what you prefer, "Angela grinned. "It might not be. I might hate this, but it's the only thing that was clean. Anyway you're supposed to answer without thinking. That is the purpose of the game is it not?" "Ok then, Call me old fashioned, skirt." "My turn again, Beckham-Kline or Armani?," Elizabeth queried. "Oh yes old bean, Beckham-Kline! I never buy less than five at a time," Angela joked, putting on a false English upper class accent. Elizabeth felt embarrassed. Much to her amazement she was getting on extremely well with Angela, and had forgotten that not everyone could afford the designer outfits she wore. "I'm sorry. I didn't think," she muttered. "It doesn't matter. My Mum and Dad had to save for fifteen years to send me here, and the fact that I'm -- how'd you call it -- roomies with the famous Elizabeth Stephens, and at the best university in the world is more than enough," Angela said, piling on Elizabeth's guilt. "This is a stupid game," Elizabeth commented. "Ok my turn then. Money or power?" Angela asked. "Power, anytime." "Money," Angela smiled back. "Can I ask you a favor?" Elizabeth asked. "Depends. We've only known each other an hour," Angela retorted. "Forget who I am." "Huh?" "You've mentioned me three times as though I'm some superstar. I came here to be me. Not some media image, or some fixation of that perverse Bexley cult, but to discover who I am and where I fit in. Please let me be just plain ol Elizabeth Cathline Stephens." Angela ought to have been upset, but Elizabeth had been right, she had been looking at her as though she was some royal princess. "Ok, Lizzy. I'm sorry, it's just that I've never even seen anyone remotely famous let alone live with them. My Dad used to be a computer programmer, before it all became automated and he was laid off. And Mom worked as a secretary for Sony- Micro-Sun-Paq. We never even went on holiday, sorry "vacation," as they put every Euro they had into giving me a better chance than they had." "It must have been hard. They must really love you," Elizabeth said softly. Angela thought she detected a note of jealousy in Elizabeth's voice, "I just hope I live up to their expectations." "I'm sure you will. If you put your mind to it you can do anything. It's not been a picnic for me either. Yes Mom and Dad never had to save to get me anything but I've always been in the public eye. I've had more DNA tests than I can remember, psychological screenings, IQ tests. And those photo's on the front of the Enquirer last year were the worst ever. I have had no privacy, and when people look at me they don't think oh look that's Elizabeth Stephens they see HER, Dr Elizabeth Anne Bexley. That horrid Bexley cult is the worst of the lot. Until tests proved otherwise they thought I was the Second Coming or something. That's the hardest thing of all. I can cope with blurry topless photo's of me on my mom and dad's island but any reference to the hell bitch just gets me right here, " Elizabeth pointed to her heart. "I'm sorry. Look if it's any help I don't believe any of those rumors. I was just a little star struck that's all," Angela said, now it was her turn to feel guilty. "Hey I'm star struck too. It's not everyday I get to share a room with Dr Angela Holden the greatest neurologist the world has ever seen," Elizabeth grinned. The tension had been broken and each of them had shown an exposed side of them. The bond of acquaintance had grown into the glimmer of trust. -- o -- o -- o-- Wills caught up with Mark in the canteen. He'd been worried about him for a few days. Mark had been sullen, almost silent, and to make matters worse had skipped several tutorials. At this rate Mark was on collision course to fail his doctorate. Wills had tried to talk to him several times but each and every time he had gotten the cold shoulder treatment. It didn't take the length of time they had been friends to work out that something was very wrong with the normally upbeat Mark. "Hey bud," Wills said cheerfully. "Huh," Mark replied in a sullen tone. Wills gave Mark an ultimatum "Ok. Look, you can ignore me or grouch at me all you like but I'm not going away 'til you talk to me." "Ok fine, but there's no point. You can't help me, you'll just have to put up with me," Mark replied. "Since when have I ever put up with you?" Will asked with a comforting smile on his face, Mark managed a shrug back "Since now." Wills indicated to Mark that they should take a seat at an empty table at the far end of the canteen. Mark grudgingly agreed and sat down opposite Wills. Mark, admitting defeat and feeling as though he had to tell someone, fiddled with his chicken salad for a while before giving Wills a lost puppy dog look. "I went to find her." "Who?" Wills asked. "The woman I saw going into the faculty the other week." "You never told me?" Wills asked. "As soon as I saw her I couldn't get her out of my mind. Something just clicked inside me and I knew that she was the one." "How can you know that? Anyway let me guess, she blew you out," Wills said. He was tempted to make some kind of quip but by the look on Mark's face this was no joking matter. "Worse. Her neighbor told me that she's gone to Tel-Aviv. Now I'll never see her again. If she'd blown me out as least I'd have known where I stood, but now I'll never know. I was so sure she was the one. Now I can't concentrate on anything and my grades are slipping. That makes me more depressed and makes me think more about losing her. I'm in a vicious circle," Mark now looked thoroughly down. Wills, all thoughts of quips now quashed, said, "Did you get a name. She can't have gone to Tel-Aviv forever, she has to come back here to finish her course." "I thought of that but her neighbor told me she was going to England for two years but that got cancelled and so she went to Tel-Aviv instead. Two Years, that's a long time. She'd find someone else in that time. I may as well face it, I blew it, the one woman I ever wanted and I've blown it." Wills had an idea. "Look what's her name, we can look her up on the net's white pages. Find out all about her and then we'll know more. As for your grades, if you're not here in two years how can you meet her when she gets back?" Mark gave a smile. Hope had been restored and Wills was right. He would work harder now. He had to be here when she came back. "Her neighbor gave me her name, Anne Baxter." -- o -- o -- o-- Anne eventually emerged from the Tel Aviv arrivals lounge and was hit by the dry heat of the midday sun. After waiting in line for her baggage she headed for the local Avis rental desk. It was a fair drive to her lodgings and already she was tired from the long flight over. After queuing for about ten minutes she reached the desk. "Passport please," the Avis lady asked. Anne noted how all service desk, Hostesses and receptionists all seemed to look the same the world over. Maybe it was their impossibly sunny disposition that caused made her think that. Anyway she handed over her passport to the lady. The lady studied it for a few moments before returning it, "Driving permits please." "Will this work? It's got all the options I want?" Elizabeth fished out her PDA and showed it to the lady. "Sure, just aim it at the terminal, its called Avis4526" Anne was relieved, the last thing she wanted to do was fill out masses of forms. She pointed the PDA at the lady's terminal, "PDA, transmit my driving permit and hirecar details to terminal Avis4526." The lady gave a smile, "Thank you Ms Baxter. You car is in lot 24. It's the blue GMFord starlight. It's been serviced last week and there's a spare fuel cell in the trunk if you need it. I've transmitted your biometric profile to the car so all you need to do is grab the handle. I've also sent an online map of how to get to the car so just consult your PDA. Enjoy you stay, thank you for using Avis." Anne gave a nod of thanks and wheeled her luggage cart outside into the blazing heat of the day. On her way out she noted the small plaque on the wall commemorating the twenty three thousand men, women and children that had died at this airport over twenty years ago. Anne had seen this in the guidebook. In every building and street there were memorials to the dead, but seeing it here on a wall really brought home the atrocity that had been committed in this now thriving city. She hoped she would be able to remove the morbidity of this place from her mind but then again did she want to? Would doing that deprive her of her compassion? Only time would tell. Anne consulted her PDA and a flashing arrow told her that the Avis depot was two hundred meters to the left. A few minutes later she was standing next to a Blue Gmford. It had been newly washed and sat there gleaming in the sunlight. Anne grabbed the handle of the car and the door sprung open. Miniature sensors on the car handle had read her hand and fingerprints. Cross checked them with its database and had decided that she was who said she said she was. Anne reached inside the car and pressed the trunk release and moved around to the rear of the car and loaded her luggage into the trunk. After dutifully sliding the cart back into the cart retrieval area she got inside the car and closed the door. Within a few seconds the cars climate control had kicked in filling the car with warm, cool air. Anne had one last thing to do before she was ready to leave, she pointed her PDA at the car entertainment system. "PDA, download all music tracks to Gmford regno A56433X. Also program GeoNav system with our destination and work out the quickest route avoiding all current congestion," the PDA confirmed its acknowledgement. Anne felt her seat reshape it's self to give a perfect fit, and after settling herself down. She pressed the start button on the console and felt the smooth hum of the engine. "Car engage autoNav and let me know when we're five minutes away. "Yes Ms Baxter," the car replied in a smooth silky female voice. Anne gave a smile, Rachel Martin would do anything for money these days. Anne felt the car move off and onto the freeway. Anne's own car was nowhere near this advanced and anyway she preferred to drive herself. Anyway was there any other way to drive a late 2000 model year Porsche? "Car, dim the windows and play track 4, no video, audio only." Anne sat back into her chair, closed her eyes and started to listen. This was just the song that matched how she felt at the moment. "I stood close enough to hear you say 'Do as the beautiful ones do' Tore out my picture from its frame I just wanted to be one of you Standing on the outside Lookin' Lookin' Funny how you see the truth But the feeling does come back To you She's crazy as anyone can be That's what they say They say of me Wanting love can make one do Isn't my fault Heredity Standing on the outside Lookin' Lookin' State of grace State of sin Standing on the outside Lookin' Lookin' I cannot feel a single thing But the feeling does come back Again This morning feels like yesterday Yesterday follows me around Where do you go where no one cares Six feet under Underground Standing on the outside Lookin' Lookin' State of grace State of sin Standing on the outside Lookin' Lookin' I cannot feel a single thing But the feeling will come back Again - again" -- o -- o -- o-- "So your parents worked for fifteen years to send you here?" Elizabeth asked. It was now nearly eleven pm and they had been talking for hours. Elizabeth felt relieved things were going so well. Later on in the week when she called Kat she would describe Angela as 'normal'. But for now Elizabeth was just glad to have someone her own age who she could just be herself with. Of course it was early days but, judging by the signs it was going very well. Her only point of reference for this kind of friendship was the sisterly bond between her mom and Auntie Cathline. Although her friendship with Angela was a long way from being that close it did have a positive beginning and that Elizabeth decided was more than she'd hoped for. "Yeah. I determined to work my hardest so that their sacrifice wasn't wasted. I've borrowed a PDA, brought the cheapest e- books I could find and promised I'd pay them back every Euro they gave me." "I've had to pay for myself to be here. Sure mom and dad give me an allowance but my tuition fees and everything else comes from my own money." Elizabeth stated. "Gave you a million to play with did they?" Angela said with no hint of sarcasm or malice. "I wish. They looked at what the average student needs and gave me that amount. They made it damn clear that if I needed anymore then I'd have to work for it." "Whoa that's tough!" Angela said. She was surprised. She had expected the famous Elizabeth Stephens to be on a sum fit for a princess. "You don't know the half of it. Sure I've got my Beckham-Kline outfits and Armani skirt-pants but I had these before I became a student here. My mom and dad are adamant. They had to make it by themselves so I have to. " "That's a tough lesson, but fair I guess. Tell me are they like they are portrayed in the past. Did the things they say happen really happen?" Angela asked. "If you mean do I believe what they tell me or what other people have said, I believe mom and dad every time. It's no accident who I look like. I saw photos of dad and Mom when they were transformed. I've seen Auntie Cathline's ruined eye and I've seen more evidence of Dr Bexley's evil than I care to think of. Sure she redeemed herself to the world at the end but not before causing a lot of people a lot of pain" "You sound bitter against her. She's been dead for twenty years and I was always told she emerged a heroine. Her final act of stopping a war was seen as a triumph and her tragic suicide just added to the mythos," Angela said. Elizabeth shrugged, "Sure that's the way the history books tell it but what people don't get is that it should never have happened in the first place. Even Mom and Dad have a rose tinted view of her now, they say that she strengthened their relationship beyond what it would have ever become and that probably the destruction of Tel-Aviv and Cairo would have happened at some point in time anyway." "They are probably correct. At the time it was seen as a great horror but sooner or later somebody was going to use a genetic weapon and nuclear ones too. That's the benefit of hindsight. We know the socio-economics of the time and can work backwards from there. A Middle East conflict was inevitable. If the Guild didn't do it, Iraq would, if Iraq wouldn't then somebody else would. As soon as somebody found a way to create a genetic weapon then it's going to get used. Dr Bexley just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. In some ways she was there are the right time, your parents too", Angela stated. "That maybe and that's what the history books teach but I still hate her for what she put Mom, Dad and Cathline thru. Mom used to call her 'hell bitch' and that name suits her just fine," Elizabeth was showing real emotion now. In some ways she wanted to tell Angela the truth about her relationship to Dr Bexley but that was one secret she was determined to keep. "Remind me never to cross you," Angela said with a smile. Elizabeth grinned back, "Hey no problem. I'm beat and we've got a big day tomorrow. See you in the refectory at midday?" Angela nodded her agreement. Like Elizabeth she was pleased with the way things had started off. -- o -- o -- o-- The first week or so of Elizabeth's course went surprisingly quickly. Cambridge was a fascinating city with so much history that Elizabeth couldn't help but fall in love with the place. It was so wonderfully quirky and full of tradition, most of which people hadn't a clue where they came from but performed anyway. There were innumerable book shops, still selling paper bound copies and little markets tucked quietly away in the corner of some ancient cobbled street. She had spent a number of free periods in the museums and still admitted she hadn't even scratched the surface. She and Angela had enjoyed a quiet picnic by "the backs" a secluded stretch of green straddled by the clear, slow moving river Cam and had booked next week to go for a punting trip down the river. At the moment her studies were lightweight but she knew as the weeks drew on the the pace would rapidly ramp up. For the moment she lapped up every second of the olde worlde atmosphere of the ancient city. She was now spread out on the sofa, she had put away her Beckham-Klines for special occasions and had splashed out on the de-facto student attire of denim jeans and baggy sweater. Her new hairstyle still felt strange and she missed her long flowing locks, but the shorter style was more practical and attracted less attention. Angela had wanted her to go blonde but this was too radical a move for her at the moment. It did give her a rather 'girl next door' look but she didn't mind. She wanted to move away from the old Elizabeth and find her own way. She was a little sad that her parents hadn't yet had time to visit but she suspected that this was their plan all along. This suited her just fine at the moment, she was relishing her independence although she was glad that at least Angela shared her neurology class. She gave a yawn and reflected on her relationship with Angela. For two people of such disparate backgrounds they shared a lot of common views. Angela had soon lost her starstruck awe of her and that Elizabeth thought was a welcome change. Angela treated her for who she was not where she came from. Elizabeth had had childhood friends. Alex was one of her closest in spite of all his teasing but Angela was rapidly becoming one of her 'inner circle'. Of course she had told no one about her real origins, that would ruin everything. It shouldn't have made much difference to her who her mother was but in the back of her mind she couldn't help but worry if she was destined to turn out like her. What worried her most was that by all account the hell bitch's parents hadn't been much different from her own. If they had been powerless to stop what happened to Elizabeth then surely hers would be too. Elizabeth knew that she couldn't help but be hurt somewhere along the line she just wondered how far that hurt would need to run. At the age of eighteen her parents had given her the responsibility for choosing whether to take the Olanzapine or not. Initially she had chosen not to but as it dawned on her that environment or not she had the same mental flaw that caused the Hell bitch to wreak so much havoc she owed it to herself and any future partner not to take that risk. So, everyday she dutifully took her Olanzapine, it would be foolish not to. Angela had asked what it was and Elizabeth had told her it was her Asthma medicine. It was even specially stamped with the wrong label so that a casual glance couldn't give it away. Elizabeth's train of thought was interrupted by a loud knock on the door. Wearily she got up and answered the door. On seeing who it was she gave a whoop of joy and embraced the couple at the door. "MOM, DAD you came!" "Hi little mite," Matthew said with a smile. It had been too long since he'd seen his number one daughter. "I like the hair. It makes you look a little stern but a lot more mature," Kat commented. "How, how?" Elizabeth started. She never expected to see them this early on. She'd been told they'd visit in a month or so. Matthew gave a smile "We took a detour on our way over to Manhattan. We thought we'd drop in and see how you were doing." "Please come in, it's a little bit of a mess. Where's little bro?" "Thanks. John's at Yale. He couldn't make it over but I'm sure you'll see him at the end of the semester," Kat gave Elizabeth's apartment the once over. The little bit of mess Elizabeth was referring to was two unwashed coffee cups on table. "Nice place. How's the roomie working out?" Matthew asked, taking a seat on the sofa. "Angela? She's great. When I first heard I was getting a roommate I was afraid that I'd get some prissy English girl but Angela's not like that at all. She should be back soon, I'm sure you'll like her," Elizabeth looked guiltily at the coffee cups and discretely put them into the kitchen area. "It's ok Liz. You are allowed to be messy sometimes. I thought it was traditional for a student," Kat said. "That's what Angela says. You should see her room. It's a tip. She does clear away the meal things though which is the main thing." "That's my girl. Never a thing out of place," Matthew grinned. "How's the course going. Not too much hard work is it?" Kat asked. "Is anything ever hard work for me? Not really, they're still in ramp up mode at the moment so I'll have a better idea in a month's time. Cambridge is wonderful, so much history, and the quality of the research is nothing like we have back home," Elizabeth enthused. Kat put on her serious mother-daughter chat face, "Cathline told me you were feeling a little abandoned when you first got here. You seemed to be building up to a fight with her when Alex walked in. Are you ok now?" "I guess so Mom. I wish you didn't live either side of a continent or ocean, there's so much I want to tell and show you, but I can't because you're over there and usually too busy to leave," Elizabeth said sadly. As always her mom had gotten right to the heart of how she felt. Sometimes it was infuriating but other times like now it was a welcome relief. Cathline had told her she felt exactly the same way about Kat sometimes. It was one of her mother's defining character traits. "It works both ways Elizabeth. We need to give you enough slack and freedom to find out who you are but be there if and when you fall. It's a delicate balance and it's one we'll admit we haven't got right yet. Not with you and not with John. All we can do is hope we've given you enough to know what's right and wrong and to use compassion, wisdom and courage that we know is in you. It looks to us that you're doing just fine. We have our own lives to live just as you have yours. But the thing is, the real thing to hold onto is that we are there for you, and if we should ever need it you are there for us. That's what family is all about," Kat said in her most reassuring voice. Elizabeth felt relieved at this. Kat had a way of sorting things out in just the right way. "Mom I'm worried about me. I feel like a time-bomb about to go off. I'm so scared to get into any kind of deep friendship with anyone, just in case they hurt me and I go and strike back. When the hell bitch struck back, people died." "Are you talking about this Angela?" Matthew asked. "I guess so. She's tried to fix me up with a date a couple of times but I've turned them all down. Is it right for me to feel like this?" Kat placed a hand on Elizabeth's leg to reassure her. "You can't keep holding people at arms length. You'll end up a very lonely and shallow person otherwise. What's the point in being able to feel, talk and love if you can't share them with anyone? You may as well be a robot, devoid of any emotions or the qualities that determine our humanity, Take Alex for example. Do you know why he treats you like a kid sister?" "Because he hates me? Thinks I'm a pain in the ass?" Elizabeth answered. Kat gave Elizabeth a smile, "Alex doesn't hate you. He may think you're a pain in the ass sometimes and he'd be right. He asked me a while back how to reach out to you. He doesn't understand you. His teasing is his defense mechanism. He wants to be closer to you, to really get to know who the real Elizabeth Cathline Stephens is, but you've spent all your life pushing him away." "He never told me any of this," Elizabeth stated. What was mom driving at? "He wouldn't. He cares too much about you to put pressure on you like that. He wants to be your friend, but on your terms." "You mean he's got the hots for me?" Elizabeth said. Surely not! "I don't think so. You two grew up together and in some respects treat each other like brothers and sisters so of course there's going to be a bit of good natured needling. But in any good friendship there should be a serious sharing of thoughts and feelings. I'm not telling you what to do but If