The Elusive
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ALIAS_chick
Cadet
hey. this is really good can i get a pm.
*~Celtic Jedi~*
Cadet
Sorry for the huge lack in updates. A psychotic college semester is now over and just one more year until I graduate 
but then there’s the question of grad school and the fun never seems to end. This is set during an AU season three and I was trying to stick with the episode timeline closely, but gave up so events are speeding up.
Chapter 10
Lovers’ Quarrel
After a quick shower, Arisha toweled off her hair and tied the robe tighter around her waist. She sat down on the bed and turned on the television. She flipped through the channels for a few minutes before settling on old reruns of I Dream of Jeannie.
There was a buzzing from her purse. Arisha reached in and removed her cell phone. She glanced at the number and froze. It was her Covenant contact. If she didn’t answer, then they would certainly begin to suspect her. She took a deep breath and pressed the ‘send’ button. “Hello?”
“Arisha, baby,” The annoying voice of McKennas Cole came over the line. “Where are you?”
Arisha shut her eyes and swallowed. “Visiting my boyfriend in Edinburgh, you know an impromptu romantic getaway.”
“We tried finding you in Dublin and Zurich. It seems your apartments have been packed up. Oddly enough your car was still in the garage in Zurich,” Cole continued.
Arisha sighed. “I had a run in with Doren. I decided to walk home.”
“Well, there’s no need to worry about her anymore, Arisha. Doren’s dead,” Cole said. “Now as far as you go, you’re still breathing.”
Arisha froze in her breathing. “Is that a threat, Cole?”
“No, baby, it’s a warning. The Covenant is questioning your capabilities after that little stunt you pulled in Morocco,” He said.
“I can easily say that won’t happen again,” Arisha remarked. “There was an interference which I’ve since eliminated.”
“It’s your neck on the line if it happens again,” He warned.
“Try and find me if it happens again,” She smirked. “I can disappear.”
“Like you were trained to?” He questioned. “I heard you used to work for the British before you turned to crime.”
“No. A friend of mine did. I often get mistaken for her.”
“Whatever. The point, sweetheart, is that you’re on thin ice. If another job falls through –“
“I get the point. Goodnight, Cole.”
“Sleep tight, Bristow.”
She dropped the phone on the bed and dropped beside it, closing her eyes.
* * * *
The dream was the same. She stood in a warehouse somewhere, dressed in black, probably on a mission. Someone was walking up behind her. She turned and her eyes on locked on the gun on someone’s hand. The person wore gloves, but the hands were slender, definitely a woman’s. She couldn’t lift her eyes away from the gun to see the face. She heard the trigger pull back.
Foolishly she lunged for the weapon, only to hear it discharge and she knew she had been shot. She could only look up into the eyes of the woman holding the weapon. Deep brown. Her own eyes.
Arisha gulped for air as she sat up in bed. The thunderclap of gunfire still echoed in her ears. It was followed by a pounding in the real world. Someone was knocking on the door. She stood, ignoring the TV that was still on, and walked to the door. She glanced through the peephole and cursed. “What do you want, Sark?”
“Can I come in?” he questioned. “I come bearing gifts.”
With an exasperated sigh she unlocked the door and opened it. She left it open for him to enter and walked to survey the mess her hair had become from sleeping on it. She stared into the bathroom mirror and smoothed out the kinks in her hair, sweeping it back into a ponytail. She secured the ties on her robe that had slipped and walked back out to the main room where the blonde assassin was opening a bottle of wine. He grinned and held out a filled glass to her. “I hope you don’t mind something more local.”
“I don’t have taste as expensive as yours, Julian,” she remarked, taking a seat on the bed. “So what are you doing here?”
“I came to check on you,” he said, sitting besides her. “I’ve missed you.”
“You’ve said that before.” She took a long swig of wine.
“Remember when we met?” he asked. He reached out a hand to touch a strand of her hair that had fallen loose. “Grafton Street, outside of Marks and Spencers, the bottle of coke you so elegantly spilled on my Armani suit…”
Arisha rolled her eyes. “I was young. Eighteen. You followed me home as I recall.”
“Or the broom closet you called home back then.”
Arisha put up a hand as he reached out to her. “We’re not doing this.” She stood and set down the glass on a table. “You’re mourning and I understand, but that’s no reason for you to come to me and start reminiscing the good old days.”
He sighed. “You’ve heard then.”
“About Allison? Yeah, I heard about five hours ago. Funny, I actually ran into her in the parking garage right before Irina sent someone after me. She was jealous and I told her there was nothing going on. I’m sticking to that.”
He looked as her solemnly. She realized that he must have been drinking for a while before he had decided to bug her.
“You run up a tab in the lounge downstairs?” she questioned.
He nodded. “Saoirse, I… Arisha. God! Whatever you want to be called! I missed you. I was drinking my heart out to drown my sorrows and then I started thinking of you and it’s as if she doesn’t matter anymore.”
“You don’t love anyone do you?” she asked. “Beyond the wine and suits and the accent, what is there, Julian? Are you just a cold-blooded killer? Or are you the boy that was never loved?”
“I’m drunk,” was his answer.
She allowed herself a small laugh. “I can see that. Is there anything new going on that I should know about?”
He shook his head.
“Then go,” she said.
He smiled and continued drinking. “I’m paying for this hotel room, Love.”
“Yes, and thanks, but you’re not staying,” Arisha replied, crossing her arms over chest. “Now get out.”
“You say you’re not the passenger,” he began slowly. “But you told me that you are something in Rambaldi’s scheme. Care to tell me what?”
She walked to the window and pushed aside the blinds as if checking for surveillance. “When I got out of the hospital two years ago, I found a package in my apartment from someone. I don’t really know who sent it, but it contained a piece of a manuscript – definitely old. I think it was written by Rambaldi. Basically it said that I would be on a lifelong search without guidance, but other interpretations I’ve encountered would lead one to believe that I’m supposed to possess some sort of psychic ability or have the ability to foresee future events.”
Sark’s already drunk face split into a smile. “Now who sounds like she’s had too much to drink?”
“I’m serious!” she snapped. “Don’t discount my words on account of your own stupidity!”
His face became stern. “I understand, Saoirse. Look, do you believe there’s any truth in this? Have you ever been able to demonstrate these abilities?”
She merely shrugged. Oh, I’ve had plenty of ‘visions’, but none had come true.
“Have any idea what you’re supposed to do with them?”
Arisha shrugged again. “Help someone I think. Maybe ‘the Chosen One’ can’t succeed without me or something.” She turned on him suddenly. “Why the hell am I telling you this? I don’t really trust you anymore.”
Sark smiled. “Clearly that statement is a lie. Either way, Love. I’ll get out of your hair now.” He stood smoothly and put down his wine glass. He walked over to her and before she could react, he planted a kiss on her lips. He ran a hand along her cheek. “I have missed you. I wasn’t lying.”
Arisha let out a shaky breath and pushed him away. “Have a good night, Julian.”
He smiled and turned to leave. “I’ll let myself out. I’ll be in contact.”
but then there’s the question of grad school and the fun never seems to end. This is set during an AU season three and I was trying to stick with the episode timeline closely, but gave up so events are speeding up. Chapter 10
Lovers’ Quarrel
After a quick shower, Arisha toweled off her hair and tied the robe tighter around her waist. She sat down on the bed and turned on the television. She flipped through the channels for a few minutes before settling on old reruns of I Dream of Jeannie.
There was a buzzing from her purse. Arisha reached in and removed her cell phone. She glanced at the number and froze. It was her Covenant contact. If she didn’t answer, then they would certainly begin to suspect her. She took a deep breath and pressed the ‘send’ button. “Hello?”
“Arisha, baby,” The annoying voice of McKennas Cole came over the line. “Where are you?”
Arisha shut her eyes and swallowed. “Visiting my boyfriend in Edinburgh, you know an impromptu romantic getaway.”
“We tried finding you in Dublin and Zurich. It seems your apartments have been packed up. Oddly enough your car was still in the garage in Zurich,” Cole continued.
Arisha sighed. “I had a run in with Doren. I decided to walk home.”
“Well, there’s no need to worry about her anymore, Arisha. Doren’s dead,” Cole said. “Now as far as you go, you’re still breathing.”
Arisha froze in her breathing. “Is that a threat, Cole?”
“No, baby, it’s a warning. The Covenant is questioning your capabilities after that little stunt you pulled in Morocco,” He said.
“I can easily say that won’t happen again,” Arisha remarked. “There was an interference which I’ve since eliminated.”
“It’s your neck on the line if it happens again,” He warned.
“Try and find me if it happens again,” She smirked. “I can disappear.”
“Like you were trained to?” He questioned. “I heard you used to work for the British before you turned to crime.”
“No. A friend of mine did. I often get mistaken for her.”
“Whatever. The point, sweetheart, is that you’re on thin ice. If another job falls through –“
“I get the point. Goodnight, Cole.”
“Sleep tight, Bristow.”
She dropped the phone on the bed and dropped beside it, closing her eyes.
* * * *
The dream was the same. She stood in a warehouse somewhere, dressed in black, probably on a mission. Someone was walking up behind her. She turned and her eyes on locked on the gun on someone’s hand. The person wore gloves, but the hands were slender, definitely a woman’s. She couldn’t lift her eyes away from the gun to see the face. She heard the trigger pull back.
Foolishly she lunged for the weapon, only to hear it discharge and she knew she had been shot. She could only look up into the eyes of the woman holding the weapon. Deep brown. Her own eyes.
Arisha gulped for air as she sat up in bed. The thunderclap of gunfire still echoed in her ears. It was followed by a pounding in the real world. Someone was knocking on the door. She stood, ignoring the TV that was still on, and walked to the door. She glanced through the peephole and cursed. “What do you want, Sark?”
“Can I come in?” he questioned. “I come bearing gifts.”
With an exasperated sigh she unlocked the door and opened it. She left it open for him to enter and walked to survey the mess her hair had become from sleeping on it. She stared into the bathroom mirror and smoothed out the kinks in her hair, sweeping it back into a ponytail. She secured the ties on her robe that had slipped and walked back out to the main room where the blonde assassin was opening a bottle of wine. He grinned and held out a filled glass to her. “I hope you don’t mind something more local.”
“I don’t have taste as expensive as yours, Julian,” she remarked, taking a seat on the bed. “So what are you doing here?”
“I came to check on you,” he said, sitting besides her. “I’ve missed you.”
“You’ve said that before.” She took a long swig of wine.
“Remember when we met?” he asked. He reached out a hand to touch a strand of her hair that had fallen loose. “Grafton Street, outside of Marks and Spencers, the bottle of coke you so elegantly spilled on my Armani suit…”
Arisha rolled her eyes. “I was young. Eighteen. You followed me home as I recall.”
“Or the broom closet you called home back then.”
Arisha put up a hand as he reached out to her. “We’re not doing this.” She stood and set down the glass on a table. “You’re mourning and I understand, but that’s no reason for you to come to me and start reminiscing the good old days.”
He sighed. “You’ve heard then.”
“About Allison? Yeah, I heard about five hours ago. Funny, I actually ran into her in the parking garage right before Irina sent someone after me. She was jealous and I told her there was nothing going on. I’m sticking to that.”
He looked as her solemnly. She realized that he must have been drinking for a while before he had decided to bug her.
“You run up a tab in the lounge downstairs?” she questioned.
He nodded. “Saoirse, I… Arisha. God! Whatever you want to be called! I missed you. I was drinking my heart out to drown my sorrows and then I started thinking of you and it’s as if she doesn’t matter anymore.”
“You don’t love anyone do you?” she asked. “Beyond the wine and suits and the accent, what is there, Julian? Are you just a cold-blooded killer? Or are you the boy that was never loved?”
“I’m drunk,” was his answer.
She allowed herself a small laugh. “I can see that. Is there anything new going on that I should know about?”
He shook his head.
“Then go,” she said.
He smiled and continued drinking. “I’m paying for this hotel room, Love.”
“Yes, and thanks, but you’re not staying,” Arisha replied, crossing her arms over chest. “Now get out.”
“You say you’re not the passenger,” he began slowly. “But you told me that you are something in Rambaldi’s scheme. Care to tell me what?”
She walked to the window and pushed aside the blinds as if checking for surveillance. “When I got out of the hospital two years ago, I found a package in my apartment from someone. I don’t really know who sent it, but it contained a piece of a manuscript – definitely old. I think it was written by Rambaldi. Basically it said that I would be on a lifelong search without guidance, but other interpretations I’ve encountered would lead one to believe that I’m supposed to possess some sort of psychic ability or have the ability to foresee future events.”
Sark’s already drunk face split into a smile. “Now who sounds like she’s had too much to drink?”
“I’m serious!” she snapped. “Don’t discount my words on account of your own stupidity!”
His face became stern. “I understand, Saoirse. Look, do you believe there’s any truth in this? Have you ever been able to demonstrate these abilities?”
She merely shrugged. Oh, I’ve had plenty of ‘visions’, but none had come true.
“Have any idea what you’re supposed to do with them?”
Arisha shrugged again. “Help someone I think. Maybe ‘the Chosen One’ can’t succeed without me or something.” She turned on him suddenly. “Why the hell am I telling you this? I don’t really trust you anymore.”
Sark smiled. “Clearly that statement is a lie. Either way, Love. I’ll get out of your hair now.” He stood smoothly and put down his wine glass. He walked over to her and before she could react, he planted a kiss on her lips. He ran a hand along her cheek. “I have missed you. I wasn’t lying.”
Arisha let out a shaky breath and pushed him away. “Have a good night, Julian.”
He smiled and turned to leave. “I’ll let myself out. I’ll be in contact.”
ALIAS_chick
Cadet
great update.
lovin this fic.
lovin this fic.
YoungStarsOwner
Cadet
Yay, finally an update!!!
Doesn't it feel great to be done for the sememster! it will feel even better when you're done forever, trust me!
now onto the important things,
what does Arisha believe about the document is the real question.
A Drunk Sark, is a funny Sark!
I can't remember though, did Arisha kill Alison?
Doesn't it feel great to be done for the sememster! it will feel even better when you're done forever, trust me!
now onto the important things,
what does Arisha believe about the document is the real question.
A Drunk Sark, is a funny Sark!
I can't remember though, did Arisha kill Alison?
*~Celtic Jedi~*
Cadet
No. This was supposed to parallel season 3 when Allison got killed in that hotel by Will, but I'm pretty much ignoring the rest of the timeline.
