Well…I wrote more, finally. I'm sorry I took so long getting this
chapter out. I had a frickin epiphany for another story, so I've been
planning that. It's another SM/WK story, so look out for it in the next
few days. If it isn't up by Saturday, though, then it won't be out for a
while.
I'm going on vacation on Saturday, and won't be back until the 22nd
of June. I'm going on a cruise in Alaska. As such, I probably won't write
a whole lot, except on the plane. Don't expect me to post anything during
that week.
Ummm…I only got three reviews last chapter. Come on people,
REVIEW!!! That's part of the reason I didn't write this faster. No
inspiration from fans, damnit. Writers thrive more on reviews than you
think. Have no fear, I will finish this story, but if I get reviews, I'll
finish it faster. So, review, please!
To whoever told me about the Kaleigh/Ceilidh thing: THANK YOU SO
MUCH! I'm so happy you told me! But, could you leave your e-mail? I'd
like to ask you a few more questions, but I can't say them here without
ruining the whole plot…though, someone's figured out a really important
part…Anyway, thanks. Now, on with the story.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
As soon as Crawford heard the shower turn on, he went in search of a
phone. He needed to talk to Schuldich or Nagi or even Farfarello, though
he'd prefer Schuldich, who was more trustworthy than the others. Though,
Crawford was sure he'd get teased relentlessly by the German. Either way,
he needed to see if they'd uncovered anything else, and to reveal her split
personality.
He found a phone in the living room, and immediately dialed the
number to Schuldich's cell phone. He wasn't sure if the German would be
home or not, but he did know that his cell phone was always on. The
redhead picked up after two rings.
"Moshi moshi."
"Schuldich, this is Crawford. Have you learned anything new?"
Crawford asked, quick and to the point as always.
"Ah, we were wondering when you'd check in. Late night?" The teasing
edge in his teammate's voice was rather obvious. Schuldich had a thing
about annoying the hell out of him.
"I'll take that as a no." Crawford sighed. He could hear Schuldich
chuckle on the other end of the phone. "This girl should still be locked
up, as far as I'm concerned. She's got a rather blatant split personality.
The girl from the club goes by Ceilidh, and I think she's suppressed most
of the time. Renny's more innocent."
"Well, that could cause problems. No wonder I can't get into her
head. How is she in bed?"
"None of your business. Don't you have work to do?" Crawford
growled. He slammed the phone back in its cradle. Schuldich always
managed to piss him off.
He returned to the bedroom and decided to poke around a bit to see if
he could learn anything. The basic appearance of the room was rather
childish and cute. The wallpaper was pale pink, and stuffed animals were
strewn all over. The sheets and covers on the bed were white, as was the
rest of the furniture in the room. A shelf held a few books, some candles
and some picture frames. Most of the pictures were of a man with black
hair, who was probably her old boyfriend.
The dresser had an odd assortment of various knick-knacks thrown
haphazardly about it. Hair ties and ribbons seemed to take up a designated
corner, with a couple of brushes and combs next to them. Papers, pictures
and jewelry took up most of the rest of the dresser, and a large mirror was
set above it. Randomly, he picked up a small, heart-shaped locket lying on
the dresser and opened it.
The picture shocked him. He'd always wondered why she looked so
familiar. The resemblance between the two was unmistakable. He slipped
the locket into his pocket, wanting to get an explanation from a certain
assassin before confronting Ceilidh/Renny about the picture in the locket.
For now, though, the shower had been turned off.
He could still see the vision clearly. Ceilidh came out of some
other room with a knife. She had been staring at the knife, and had looked
a bit crazy, but she seemed indecisive about what to do with it. He didn't
want to risk her turning homicidal, or suicidal for that matter. She was
too important, and he wasn't in the mood to die.
True to his vision, she came in the bedroom door, knife clutched in
her hand, her knuckles turning white from the pressure. She looked
confused, pained. It was as though she wanted to hurt someone, but she
also was disgusted by the idea. She slowly raised her eyes to see him, and
he almost lost himself in her eyes.
They were still clear, crystalline blue in color, but they'd changed.
Before, they had been happy, calm and innocent. Now, they held a sadness
so deep he thought he'd be consumed by it as she had, and would give
himself to her knife. There was wisdom there, as well, that no one who was
only eighteen should posses. Crawford quickly composed himself, though.
"Ceilidh…what are you doing with that knife?" He asked. 'She's going
to charge me…' He shifted slightly, ready for her attack.
True to his vision, she raised the knife and launched herself at him.
The look in her eyes became a decisive anger, and she let out a soft
growl. He lifted his arms to catch her hand, the knife inches from his
face. He squeezed her hand until she dropped the knife, and glared at her.
The indecision reached her eyes again, and tears began forming at the
corners of her eyes. She sniffled, holding the tears back, and fell to her
knees. Crawford kicked the knife out of her reach and kneeled next to her.
He continued to hold her hand, and kept himself between her and the knife.
"Ceilidh…why did you do that?" He demanded. A few tears escaped from
her eyes, but she stubbornly held onto her dignity, trying desperately not
to cry.
"I…you…feel like them…from back then." She buried her head in his
chest and let the tears fall freely. "They were so wrong, and you feel
like them. I hate them!" Her voice rose to a shout, breaking in her sobs.
Crawford, unsure of what exactly he should do, wrapped his arms
around her and let her cry. He was a bit annoyed that she was getting his
shirt wet, but he decided that telling her that would only aggravate the
situation. A few minutes later, she managed to compose herself, and pulled
away.
"What…were you talking about? Who is 'them'?" Crawford asked. She
had piqued his curiosity.
"From back in Rosenkreuz. Renny doesn't remember, the bitch, but I
have to see it over and over again. You feel like they did."
"I spent some time in Rosenkreuz…I'm precognitive, so they decided
they wanted my abilities. Schuldich is the same. Why…were you sent
there?"
"That I don't remember…I don't think I have any special powers. I
was catatonic for a month. When I snapped out of it, someone had me
removed and adopted by the Tsukino's…So, I don't know a whole lot about it,
but the people there were bad." She sniffled softly. "Renny's a lucky
little bitch…she doesn't remember any of it."
"I think I may know someone who can help you…" Crawford lied. He had
no intention of helping Ceilidh…he just wanted to get her to Taketori
before she caused the death of him. "He might be able to get rid of
Renny…" She stared at him in disbelief.
"You…really know someone who could…who is he, take me to him." She
latched onto his arm, giving him a look that he almost couldn't resist.
"Hmmm…no, you tried to kill me. I don't think I will." He stood, as
if to leave. She stayed attached to his arm.
"Please, I'll do anything to get rid of that bitch. Name your price,
you'll have it, I promise. Just…get rid of her, please." She was on the
edge of tears, again.
Crawford found the whole situation almost funny. This girl was so
desperate to get rid of her other half that she'd probably sell her soul to
the devil. She was willing to give him anything just so that he'd take her
to this person who could 'help' her. The person didn't exist. He'd take
her to Taketori, and then she'd be killed.
"Please." She whimpered. She sank back to the floor again, her arms
wrapped around his legs, keeping him from leaving, even if he'd wanted to.
He hadn't really intended on leaving just yet.
He let out a false exasperated sigh. "I suppose it couldn't hurt.
But you have to promise not to try to kill any…" He trailed off as she
tackled him, pinning him to the floor and smothering him with kisses.
"Thank you." Was all she said, squeezing the words in between kisses.
Her hands were wander about his shoulders and chest, caressing gently.
Finally, she grew tired of kissing his face, and spoke again. "Let me
apologize." She whispered, moving her hands to unbutton his shirt.
"Do you always apologize like this?" He asked, a bemused smirk on his
face. He made no move to stop her, though.
"In truth, you're the only person I've tried to kill before." She
bent down to kiss him again, and he met it rather fiercely.
He was growing annoyed with being stuck on the floor, and as such,
wrapped his arms around her and lifted her, as well as himself up and onto
the bed, pinning her beneath him. She tried to whimper a protest along the
lines of the fact that she was supposed to be apologizing to him, but he
didn't let her think about it any longer.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Whew, done. Please review…I really want some reviews so I know what
people like/don't like. And, try to guess who's picture is in the locket!
Also, is the mushy stuff okay? I'm not so great at it; I want to know how
to improve. ^_^ Hope you liked it.
The author would like to thank you for your continued support. Your review has been posted.