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Chapter One
Posted by
jlk
,
24 September 2012
·
425 views
This story has been sitting on my comp for months, no inspiration is coming for another chapter. Any ID fanfic author should feel free to continue the story. I freely give up all rights, et al, and hope someone can do it some good. Enjoy! jlk
Eve sat quietly by the fireplace, staring into the flames. Her headache had finally eased and she was content to let her mind flow. Memories fluttered through, good and bad. She idly categorized them, added sub-categories, organized and filed in her mind. It rather surprised her that she was so focused on the times with Mavis. Maybe it was time to call her longest and best friend.
She touched the button on her link, smiled when Mavis answered on the first tone. “Dallas! Look, Bella, it’s Auntie Dallas.” The view screen slid around to reveal a bundle of wet curls over top of a soup of bubbles.
“She’s drowning,” Eve yelped, up and heading for the front doors like she could somehow reach them in time.
She was in the garage before Mavis’ laughter pierced her panic and Eve slowed her insane rush. She gasped in air, sinking to the heated floor of Roarke’s museum for automobiles, then began to laugh at herself. This, she thought, this was what she had needed. The insanity that was Mavis Freestone, and the simple person that was Eve Dallas with Mavis.
She could hear Bella Eve splashing and happily chanting her name in the background. “Please tell me I can come and see you,” Eve laughed.
“We’ll be doing a night taping at the studio. Come in an hour. The plan is for Miss Bellarooroo to sleep all night while Mommy gets some work done.” Mavis placidly retrieved her daughter from the bubbles, giving Eve and whirling view that made her a little queasy.
“Deal. See you then.” Eve disengaged, got shakily to her feet and headed back inside to find clothing. She’d managed to take her headlong plunge to rescue Bella in a robe and barefoot.
Roarke and Summerset were both gone, a rather unusual event. Roarke in Italy, Summerset at a class of some kind. She’d glazed over about a minute into the explanation of business dynamics education from Summerset when she’d been nasty enough to point out he was a little old for school. Eve was certain he’d done it on purpose, just to make her stand there politely for ten minutes of her life to be wasted.
Now, dressed in jeans and a simple white tank top, comfortable sneakers, Eve drove to Roarke’s New York recording studio. The warm air was filled with the scent of soy dogs and veggie hash, heavy on garlic, smog, sewer and recyclers needing flushed, and the presence of humanity all stuck into a jar, shaken, and placed in one hundred plus heat for a solid week. It made Eve smile; her city had an aromatic identification that was unmistakeble. At least to her.
She used the palm plate, voice and optical identifications, pleased at the extra security that protected her friend and goddaughter. She took the stairs, jogging easily to the sixteenth floor, opened the door to the buzz of a successful music empire. Everyone, and there had to be thirty or so, was working on an outfit rivaling Mavis and Ian McNab, her partner Peabody’s cohab. Colors and fabric fought with zippers and buttons while hair and eye color bloomed like a garden of wildflowers. Piercings, tats, adornments added emphasis in case someone thought they weren’t showing their individuality. It was like a concussion on LSD.
Eve responded with a smile and nods to those who greeted her. Some had no idea who she was; others recognized her as Roarke’s wife. She doubted any of them cared to think about the fact that she was a cop. Not with the stoned look in quite a few eyes.
Mavis was recording, her screeching voice rising and falling while she wreathed to her own lyrics, warming up for the night. Dressed in jeans and a similar white tank, her hair was a wild lion’s main of blonde and brown, similar to Eve’s own deer hide mixture of colors. Eve couldn’t remember the last time Mavis had looked so … casual.
Seeing her in the control room, Mavis waved Eve into the sound studio and pointed to a lounge area where Bella slept peacefully through the fury of her mother’s vocation. Eve settled into a chair, slouched crosswise. She accepted a drink after a raised eyebrow at Mavis, who nodded that it was safe, probably. It tasted like coconuts and … grass? Eve smiled, shook her head, and drank. No alcohol taste … Mavis was still supplementing Bella’s breakfast with breast milk.
Eve took some of the memories out of those mental files, and smiled as she reviewed all the nights they had sat in her apartment and sang. Mavis was definitely the prim donna, but she liked a counterpoint and in the privacy of her apartment Eve had indulged her, providing a soft alto voice. Now, she gave in to her friend’s grouchy expression and added her own supplement to an ancient favorite.
Bella roused, saw Eve and reached out sleepily. Mavis promptly scooped up her precious child and lay her into her best friend’s arms. She smiled happily as Eve didn’t even freak out, but almost expertly tucked the toddler against her and rocked gently. Bella, with the power of her kind, held Eve’s gaze as she sleepily tugged on her blonde curls. “Try this one, Evie” she half whispered, not wanting Bella to decide it was a night to fight sleep for hours.
It was an old song, from long before they had both been born, probably before their genetic donors had been born. It was gentle, almost a ballad, one they had sung when drunk, amusing themselves with changing the male to female implications, sharing the lead.
He had a long line of lovers
Mostly the gambling kind
I didn't want to be like the others
And get left behind
I heard about his bad reputation
And how he had a heart of stone
How he'd give a woman a moment of pleasure
To get what he wants
I had a weakness for his kind of man
I could never deny
I knew I wouldn't ever see it coming
'Til I was lost in his eyes
But the more I tried to keep him at a distance
The more I became aware
he was breaking down my resistance
'Til I no longer cared
Tonight I saw the red, red rose and the yellow moon
Shining on the silhouette, lying in the shadows of my bedroom
I knew it when we made love and I couldn't quit calling his name
That I'd been hit by another fast movin' train
I'd been hit by another fast movin' train
I wondered as I lay there and held him
Why can't this be real
And why the fear wouldn't let me tell him
How good he made me feel
I doubted if he would even be around when the morning comes
I waited 'til he fell asleep to whisper
"Baby, look what you've done"
Tonight I saw the red, red rose and the yellow moon
Shining on the silhouette, lying in the shadows of my bedroom
I knew it when we made love and I could not quit calling his name
That I'd been hit by another fast movin' train
(RESTLESS HEART - FAST MOVIN TRAIN LYRICS)
Content, little fist firmly curled around Eve’s index finger, Bella fell asleep like a stone. Mavis and Eve laughed softly and sipped their vegetable drinks. In the control room, the director serenely dubbed the video, and transmitted it to the owner of the studio; she knew a number one vid when she saw it.
+++++++++++++++++++++++
Eve sat quietly by the fireplace, staring into the flames. Her headache had finally eased and she was content to let her mind flow. Memories fluttered through, good and bad. She idly categorized them, added sub-categories, organized and filed in her mind. It rather surprised her that she was so focused on the times with Mavis. Maybe it was time to call her longest and best friend.
She touched the button on her link, smiled when Mavis answered on the first tone. “Dallas! Look, Bella, it’s Auntie Dallas.” The view screen slid around to reveal a bundle of wet curls over top of a soup of bubbles.
“She’s drowning,” Eve yelped, up and heading for the front doors like she could somehow reach them in time.
She was in the garage before Mavis’ laughter pierced her panic and Eve slowed her insane rush. She gasped in air, sinking to the heated floor of Roarke’s museum for automobiles, then began to laugh at herself. This, she thought, this was what she had needed. The insanity that was Mavis Freestone, and the simple person that was Eve Dallas with Mavis.
She could hear Bella Eve splashing and happily chanting her name in the background. “Please tell me I can come and see you,” Eve laughed.
“We’ll be doing a night taping at the studio. Come in an hour. The plan is for Miss Bellarooroo to sleep all night while Mommy gets some work done.” Mavis placidly retrieved her daughter from the bubbles, giving Eve and whirling view that made her a little queasy.
“Deal. See you then.” Eve disengaged, got shakily to her feet and headed back inside to find clothing. She’d managed to take her headlong plunge to rescue Bella in a robe and barefoot.
Roarke and Summerset were both gone, a rather unusual event. Roarke in Italy, Summerset at a class of some kind. She’d glazed over about a minute into the explanation of business dynamics education from Summerset when she’d been nasty enough to point out he was a little old for school. Eve was certain he’d done it on purpose, just to make her stand there politely for ten minutes of her life to be wasted.
Now, dressed in jeans and a simple white tank top, comfortable sneakers, Eve drove to Roarke’s New York recording studio. The warm air was filled with the scent of soy dogs and veggie hash, heavy on garlic, smog, sewer and recyclers needing flushed, and the presence of humanity all stuck into a jar, shaken, and placed in one hundred plus heat for a solid week. It made Eve smile; her city had an aromatic identification that was unmistakeble. At least to her.
She used the palm plate, voice and optical identifications, pleased at the extra security that protected her friend and goddaughter. She took the stairs, jogging easily to the sixteenth floor, opened the door to the buzz of a successful music empire. Everyone, and there had to be thirty or so, was working on an outfit rivaling Mavis and Ian McNab, her partner Peabody’s cohab. Colors and fabric fought with zippers and buttons while hair and eye color bloomed like a garden of wildflowers. Piercings, tats, adornments added emphasis in case someone thought they weren’t showing their individuality. It was like a concussion on LSD.
Eve responded with a smile and nods to those who greeted her. Some had no idea who she was; others recognized her as Roarke’s wife. She doubted any of them cared to think about the fact that she was a cop. Not with the stoned look in quite a few eyes.
Mavis was recording, her screeching voice rising and falling while she wreathed to her own lyrics, warming up for the night. Dressed in jeans and a similar white tank, her hair was a wild lion’s main of blonde and brown, similar to Eve’s own deer hide mixture of colors. Eve couldn’t remember the last time Mavis had looked so … casual.
Seeing her in the control room, Mavis waved Eve into the sound studio and pointed to a lounge area where Bella slept peacefully through the fury of her mother’s vocation. Eve settled into a chair, slouched crosswise. She accepted a drink after a raised eyebrow at Mavis, who nodded that it was safe, probably. It tasted like coconuts and … grass? Eve smiled, shook her head, and drank. No alcohol taste … Mavis was still supplementing Bella’s breakfast with breast milk.
Eve took some of the memories out of those mental files, and smiled as she reviewed all the nights they had sat in her apartment and sang. Mavis was definitely the prim donna, but she liked a counterpoint and in the privacy of her apartment Eve had indulged her, providing a soft alto voice. Now, she gave in to her friend’s grouchy expression and added her own supplement to an ancient favorite.
Bella roused, saw Eve and reached out sleepily. Mavis promptly scooped up her precious child and lay her into her best friend’s arms. She smiled happily as Eve didn’t even freak out, but almost expertly tucked the toddler against her and rocked gently. Bella, with the power of her kind, held Eve’s gaze as she sleepily tugged on her blonde curls. “Try this one, Evie” she half whispered, not wanting Bella to decide it was a night to fight sleep for hours.
It was an old song, from long before they had both been born, probably before their genetic donors had been born. It was gentle, almost a ballad, one they had sung when drunk, amusing themselves with changing the male to female implications, sharing the lead.
He had a long line of lovers
Mostly the gambling kind
I didn't want to be like the others
And get left behind
I heard about his bad reputation
And how he had a heart of stone
How he'd give a woman a moment of pleasure
To get what he wants
I had a weakness for his kind of man
I could never deny
I knew I wouldn't ever see it coming
'Til I was lost in his eyes
But the more I tried to keep him at a distance
The more I became aware
he was breaking down my resistance
'Til I no longer cared
Tonight I saw the red, red rose and the yellow moon
Shining on the silhouette, lying in the shadows of my bedroom
I knew it when we made love and I couldn't quit calling his name
That I'd been hit by another fast movin' train
I'd been hit by another fast movin' train
I wondered as I lay there and held him
Why can't this be real
And why the fear wouldn't let me tell him
How good he made me feel
I doubted if he would even be around when the morning comes
I waited 'til he fell asleep to whisper
"Baby, look what you've done"
Tonight I saw the red, red rose and the yellow moon
Shining on the silhouette, lying in the shadows of my bedroom
I knew it when we made love and I could not quit calling his name
That I'd been hit by another fast movin' train
(RESTLESS HEART - FAST MOVIN TRAIN LYRICS)
Content, little fist firmly curled around Eve’s index finger, Bella fell asleep like a stone. Mavis and Eve laughed softly and sipped their vegetable drinks. In the control room, the director serenely dubbed the video, and transmitted it to the owner of the studio; she knew a number one vid when she saw it.
+++++++++++++++++++++++
