Neither Gargoyles nor anything associated with them belongs to me, but all original characters do and may not be used without permission.
Thanks to Hardwing and Silverbolt for giving me ideas!
This fic is dedicated to Lily Maza and Demona Taina, as celebration for their birthdays on the 10th and 12th of December!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY DT AND LILY!
November 3rd 1997, 11:37pm:
Demona alias Dominique Destine, CEO of Nightstone Unlimited, cursed the human's obsession with paper and reports, as she looked over the report for the Human Resources Department. What was it with humans and paper?
The sound of her intercom interrupted her thoughts, something that she was for once grateful for, and she answered it by pressing the button to connect her to her secretary Candice.
"What is it Candice?"
Pardon the intrusion Miss Destine, but a call just came from the board of directors of Golden Cup.
Demona's ears pricked up, as she had been waiting for this call for quite some time. "Yes?"
They said they would be willing to arrange a meeting with you.
Demona almost clapped her hands in glee. She had trying to arrange a meeting with Golden Cup since she and Thailog had first started Nightstone, but so far, they hadn't been interested in dealing with any Multi-national companies. Fortunately, Demona was nothing if not persistent.
At 6-0-clock tomorrow evening.
Demona felt her lungs deflate for a second before they burned up again. "WHAT, HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT NO MEETINGS AFTER DARK!"
I'm terribly sorry Miss Destine. I tried to convince them to hold the meeting at some other time, but they were most insistent. They said they had a busy schedule and that was the best they could do.
Demona growled inwardly in her human form. "Well call them back and tell them that I simply can't… "
Miss Destine, they said that if you couldn't meet them tomorrow then they said to forget about meeting ever. They weren't exaggerating when they said their schedule was fully booked.
Demona almost snarled in exasperation. She needed this client, not just because Nightstone's shares had been going down recently or that it would be a major humiliation to Xanatos if she were to achieve something that he had trying to do for years. But also because she could really use the kind of weaponry they manufactured in sealing Humanity's fate, but what could she do? There was no way that she could see them at night.
Or was there?
Demona was about to tell Candice to just forget it and cancel the meeting when suddenly, she had an idea.
"Candice," she said. "Tell the directors of Golden Cup that I will meet with them tomorrow as they wish."
Very good Miss Destine.
"Also, reschedule the rest of my appointments for the rest of today and tomorrow. I'll be going home now to prepare for the meeting."
Demona turned off the intercom and gathered her things, picking up her suit jacket from around her seat and heading out the door.
Half an hour later:
Demona's limousine screeched to a halt at almost the exact same time as Demona rushed out the car, slamming the door behind her, shouting, "That will be all for today Gregory! Meet me at the same time the day after tomorrow… And next time, DON'T BE LATE!"
Demona's limo driver Gregory sighed, but didn't bother acknowledging his mistress as she never listened to him and just turned the car around, leaving through the high metal gates.
Demona rushed through her front door and instantly ran up to her study where all her prized possessions of spell books, mystical talismans and other trinkets that she had collected over the centuries were stored.
'Time to start my real work,' Demona thought as she entered her study and grabbed the first book she saw on her top shelf.
Three hours later:
Demona went through every spell, ritual and talisman that she could find in her over extended collection. She had been trying to locate some sort of spell that would disguise her as a human at night, but so far she had been unable to locate such a spell.
The only spell she knew of that could completely disguise something had been the one in the Grimoran Arcanuram. But that was obviously not an option as the book seemed to have mysteriously vanished into thin air. Neither Goliath nor Xanatos had it any more.
She did know some illusion spells but unfortunately, they were just simple disguise spells that easily dissipated after someone so much as touched them. The one in the Grimoran had been the strongest one that she knew of and she cursed herself for not grabbing that spell out of the book when she had the chance a couple of years ago when she had Brooklyn steal it for her.
Suddenly, just as she was about to give up, she found just what she was looking for.
Within one of three scrolls that she had once taken by a Mage, there was a transformation spell. As she read further, she discovered that this type of spell could temporarily change her into a human at night.
Though Demona found the idea of being turned into a complete human distasteful to say the least, she wasn't about to let Golden Cup get away from her. She needed their resources as well as their money.
Demona cursed over a dozen words in about six different languages until finally she sighed and submitted to what she had to do.
The Following Night:
It had taken nearly all day for her to prepare the transformation spell, as it was a lot more complicated than she first realised.
She had had to go out and spend over three hours shopping for all the ingredients she would need for the ritual, not to mention the time it took to set everything up and study the incantation. But finally, everything was set.
Demona took a deep breath as she tried to prepare herself for the coming change. The thought to become a human willingly was hideous to her and against everything that she believed in, but she knew it was necessary.
She stepped into the circle, feeling unclean and filthy and not noticing the prying eyes that were following her every move.
From outside Destine Manor, John Castaway alias Jon Canmore watched his prey as she moved about in her living room.
'If you can call anything that that creature touches living,' Canmore thought to himself bitterly.
Since the crippling of his brother, thanks to the demon and her monster kin, Jon had dedicated himself to the noble cause of annihilating all of their kind. However, when you're a man who's wanted for terrorism, you can't exactly show your face in public all too often.
So he had created his alter ego, John Castaway. It had taken him a lot of his resources, back from his time with his siblings, to surgically alter his face and come up with a whole new identity. But so far, things had been proceeding splendidly. Thanks to his new identity, he now had a team of followers who were all dedicated to his cause of ridding the planet of the gargoyle menace.
Usually he would send out a team of Quarrymen to hunt down gargoyles, but not for her… not the demon! His family had been hunting her down for nearly 900 years, so it was his duty as a Canmore to kill her personally.
As he observed his quarry, he noticed that her carpet had been pulled up and a circle and strange symbols were drawn onto her floor. She also seemed to be carrying a bowl of something into the drawn circle.
'Sorcery,' he realised. 'I should have known the demon would be involved with black magic.'
Wasting no further time, he launched himself into the air.
Demona set the bowl of purified water down, removed her clothing and began to bathe.
As she bathed herself in the water, she took another quick look around to ensure that nothing was amiss, as nothing must interrupt the spell. It was delicate magic and easily disrupted. She wasn't sure of what precisely might happen if anything were to happen, but she didn't want to take the risk to find out precisely what.
She chanted words of Latin. "Domo quidam Gargoyle, homini dare quidam Humanus…!"
As she finished the last passage, the felt her skin begin to tingle and her joints slowly beginning to stiff like they did whenever she went through her daily transformations, only these were like in slow motion.
Demona prepared herself for the change, it had said that the change would be quick and painless, but Demona knew better than to trust the written words of a Mage who probably hadn't even tested this spell out on himself.
Suddenly, a loud crash drew her attention away from the creepy sensations that were occurring on her skin. She spun around and found her archenemy The Hunter standing before her.
"Demon," the gargoyle slayer hissed.
"NO," Demona snarled, knowing that she couldn't leave the circle until the spell was complete because to do so otherwise would be dangerous in a spell like this.
The Hunter roared and charged toward her.
"NO," Demona repeated. "DON'T DO THAT YOU STUPID FOOL! YOU'LL… "
She never got to finish what she was going to say, as The Hunter slammed into her, inside the circle and then all at once, there was an almighty explosion that happened right before her eyes.
Few Minutes Later:
He didn't know how long he had been lying there, as he groaned and struggled to sit up. Every part of him was hurting, but he forced himself to rise.
He stared around himself, looking for any sign of life but saw nothing. Was he alone?
Before he had any time to complement this question, he heard the sounds of sirens. Feeling panicky, he forced himself up all the way to his feet and fled out the window.
Officer Morgan screeched the car to a halt and shouted into his radio, "Send for an ambulance right now!"
He had been in the middle of running his patrol when he and his partner had heard the explosion come from one of the private estates nearby. They soon noticed the fire coming from one of the upstairs rooms and called for assistance.
He then raced up the stone steps to the front door and tried ramming it, but the door felt as though it was made of reinforced concrete.
"Hang on," Morgan's partner Jamie O'Brian said and fished out of his pocket a small skeleton key. He fit the key into the lock and after a few moments of fiddling around with it, the door finally opened.
Morgan rushed inside and ran upstairs to where the fire was. Once he was there, he opened the door from where the smoke was bellowing out. The fire raged on either side of him, causing him to fall back and cough for breath.
"Hey Morgan," Jamie shouted from the stairs as he ran up with a fire extinguisher in his hands. "Stand clear!"
Morgan moved aside as Jamie stopped in front of the door and began spraying the white foam, extinguishing the flames. It took a few minutes, but eventually all the flames were soon put out.
Meanwhile, Morgan had been looking into all the other rooms, searching for anyone that might have been in the house at the time. With every room he peeked inside, he couldn't help but marvel at the artistry of each of them.
Once Jamie was finished, Morgan hurried inside. "Anyone inside," he asked.
Before Jamie could answer, there was a low moaning sound on the floor near them followed by a violent coughing.
"Shit," Morgan swore and hurried over to where the voice was coming from. He touched a blackened shape and turned it over to reveal a beautiful young redheaded woman, her hair singed and her skin slightly burnt.
"Good God," Morgan said and then turned to his partner. "Go and find out what the devil's taking that damn ambulance so long to get here!"
Jamie ran out the room and down the stairs, leaving Morgan to care for the injured woman.
Morgan tried to make her as comfortable as possible, but there was something odd about this fire victim. If he didn't know any better, he could almost swear that her wounds were healing right in front of his eyes.
A few minutes later, the ambulance finally arrived and the crew made their way upstairs to Destine's room.
"Geez," one of the ambulance crew said. "Who would have thought we'd get called out to help Dominique Destine of all people? I mean thee Dominique Destine! She's got to be the most powerful and richest woman in all of Manhattan."
"Eddie, get over it. If we don't help her then all that wealth isn't going to help her survive."
Eddie hurried up the stairs and gasped a little at the size of the mansion, the expensive works of art and ornaments. The hallway itself must have cost her a fortune to decorate.
"Bout time you're here," an angry voice said and Eddie looked in and saw a middle-aged African-American cop glaring at them.
The cop glared at him even further. "Let's see," he mused, "the fire, her burnt clothes, what could have happened? Maybe… AN EXPLOSION YOU IDIOT!"
"Alright, Alright… "Eddie moaned. "Geez, take a pill why don't ya?"
Eddie knelt and began examining the young woman, but paused after a few seconds.
Eddie frowned and stared at the cop. "I thought you said this patient here was in need of immediate medical attention?"
Morgan stared at him in disbelief. "The burns aren't enough?"
"Well yeah, they would, but… "Eddie indicated the woman. "There aren't any burns?"
Morgan gasped and reached down to examine the woman himself, but sure enough, there wasn't a single burn mark on her entire skin. Her hair wasn't even singed no more and even looked as though it had just been washed.
"But that's… "Morgan thought he was going mad. "But that's impos… "
"Uuuuummmmm… "A low moan attracted the attention of everyone and for a while, Morgan forgot about the miracle and tended to the young CEO who was just waking up.
"Ma'am," he said, concerned. "Ma'am, are you alright? Can you hear me?"
The woman opened her eyes, blinked them a few times before looking around the room.
"My name is Officer Morgan," Morgan introduced himself. "You've been in an explosion. Do you remember anything?"
The woman frowned and looked around a bit more before whispering, "Who am I?"
Two days later, 10:07am;
Manhattan City General Hospital:
"Well," Doctor Goldblum said, "aside from the Amnesia, I can't find anything physically wrong with her. In fact, she seems to be in the most perfect health, considering the fact that she's just been in an explosion as you claim."
"She was," Morgan said through his teeth. He could tell this doctor was having a hard time trying to believe his story. If he hadn't had Jamie to back him up then he suspected the doctor would have just called him bluff.
"Maybe she wasn't in the explosion itself," the doctor suggested. "She could have been in another room when it occurred and went into the room afterwards?"
"Now why would she do that?"
Doctor Goldblum shrugged, "Maybe to see if there was anyone else in the room?"
"No," Morgan shook his head, "she lives alone. We checked. Woman doesn't even have a pet canary."
Goldblum frowned. "Well then maybe she went in to save something like a family heirloom or something?"
Morgan shrugged, "Possibly, but even so… it doesn't really matter, as she can't very well tell us anything, at least not until her memory returns. Is there anything at all that you can do for her?"
Goldblum sighed. "No, I'm afraid not," he said. "The hospital has shrinks and other doctors more experienced in this field of work that may be able to help her by offering her counselling and such. But basically, her memory will only return on its own accord."
"If she hasn't received any injuries then why does she even have amnesia in the first place?"
Goldblum removed his glasses and cleaned them. "From what little I know about Psychology, the reason why Miss… Destine did you say? The reason why she doesn't remember anything of her life is because maybe, just maybe… she doesn't want to remember."
"Doesn't?" Morgan looked blankly at the doctor.
"Yes, it's a common occurrence that when someone, who has gone through a particularly emotional and traumatic experience, they find comfort in blocking the pain by forgetting all about it. It's a form of seizure when the mind retreats into itself, blocking out the harsh memories."
"So how do we get them to come back?"
"As I said," Goldblum sighed, "this is not my field of expertise so I really can't say, but to the best of my knowledge, there is no way to… get her memories back, as you say. All we can do is coax the memories out, a few at a time so as not to traumatise the patient."
Morgan blinked at the doctor. "So what you're saying is… We just sit and wait?"
"Sadly yes I'm afraid," Goldblum replied. "There's not really a lot we can do when the mind is concerned."
"Terrific," Morgan grumbled.
"Well if you excuse me," Goldblum said as he nodded his farewell to the police officers and left to see to his other patients.
"Anything the forensics can tell us?" Jamie said hopefully.
"Doubtful," Morgan said. "They all went through that woman's home like a fine tooth-comb and couldn't find zilch. They found no sign of a bomb or anything that could have caused the explosion."
He neglected to mention all the weird stuff that they had found in Miss Destine's house, all the books on magic, witchcraft, Satanism, and quite a few other creepy things like a man's skull. He had had that checked out immediately, but apparently it was some kind of Voodoo thing that she had purchased a few months ago while on a trip to Jamaica. He personally found the whole thing about magic and spirits… etc, just a load of poppycock, but he believed everyone was entitled to their own opinion, beliefs and privacy, so he ensured that none of it was leaked out to the media.
A load of reporters had all driven like crazy to the Destine mansion and had screeched to a halt just as they were coming out with her. Morgan had made sure that none of them would be allowed entry into the Destine house.
He didn't want to admit it, but this case had had him stumped. Normally, it would be Elisa Maza or Matt Bluestone dealing with this, but they were out of town dealing with a possible drugs shipment that Tony Dracon's men were said to be involved in. All the other detectives were out on call so he had been given the rare opportunity to handle this case. He was sorry to say that so far, his first case wasn't going so well. So far, he had an explosion with no bomb or any traces of any dynamite or whatever, a victim who was obviously in the room at the time but with no injuries whatsoever.
"So what do we do now," Jamie said.
Morgan sighed. "I guess we wait and see if Forensics can find anything after all and if not, then I guess it's all up to Miss Destine to help us, assuming of course that she ever recovers her memory."
The woman moaned as she rubbed her forehead. The doctor may have said there was nothing physically wrong with her, but try telling her headache that!
She frowned as she tried to remember… anything, but nothing came to her mind.
She didn't even remember being in the explosion that those policemen had been babbling on about. They said that it had been at her home, but she couldn't even remember what that looked like.
Something did come to her mind whenever she thought of home though, a castle. She frowned at how stupid that sounded, for whoever heard of anyone in this day and age living in a castle.
Then again, she had heard some of the doctors and nurses talking about her. Apparently, she was some sort of rich executive for a big company. She wondered if it was true. That would explain all the gold jewellery that had been on her when she came to. She had woken up on the floor of wherever she had been and found a large thick golden tiara on her forehead and some kind of bracelet on her left upper arm.
'Weird taste in jewellery I must have,' she thought, as the tiara and bracelet looked like something out of the dark ages. She couldn't imagine herself wearing anything like this except for a costume ball.
'Oh maybe that's what they are,' she suddenly realised. 'I mean, they look pretty authentic, but a lot of stuff does nowadays. Maybe I was wearing them for a fancy dress ball of something?'
She did have some memories, but they were more like scenes that she was looking at, like pictures in a book, she couldn't actually remember any of the things happening in them ever happen to her. One was of two children, one teenaged boy and a young girl just coming into her teens. She could see them in her mind, laughing and playing with one another and she could also see them fighting together against something, but she couldn't see what.
She frowned, as she tried to concentrate harder. She could also see a big man with a moustache who looked an awful lot like the teenage boy. They were altogether standing by a Christmas tree, singing and giving each other presents.
That was about all the pleasant things she could remember because the rest just didn't make sense. She could see the children all grown up and fighting against that something again, but now she had a clearer look at it and… it looked like a demon? Its eyes glared red at them and she could see the man fighting it and loosing, falling, falling…
The woman shook her head furiously, not wanting to see the rest of that scene. If this was one of her memories then she must have either watched too many horror films, or she had one of the strangest lives this world had ever seen.
She didn't think it was her family though. Like she originally thought, these images she was seeing, they didn't feel like they were of her life. It was almost as if she was looking at someone else's life through their eyes, but that made even less sense than before. Why would she be remembering someone else's life instead of her own?
The woman felt miserably unhappy and frustrated.
The doctor seemed happy that her memory of knowledge was still in tact. It seemed that only the full memories of her past were absent. He had also been a little surprised at how knowledgeable she seemed to be. She had read the paper yesterday and made several comments at how the stock market was doing and even a small remark about a Viking relic that had been discovered in Britain.
She wondered if she had been trained as an archaeologist once. That would explain how she appeared to know so much about old things.
The doctor suddenly came in and smiled at her. "Well hello Miss Destine," he said cheerfully. "Feeling any better?"
'Aside from loosing my memory and not remembering a thing about my whole life,' she thought, 'I'm fine.' But she smiled at him anyway.
"Well let's take a final look at you," Doctor Goldblum said and re-examined her. He paused, as she flinched at her touch and continued more slowly.
She didn't know why, but she absolutely hated to be touched by… everyone, it seemed?
"Well Miss Destine," the doctor continued, "we've tried getting in touch with any of your family, but from what we can gather, you don't appear to have any."
Dominique Destine was her name apparently, though it didn't sound even the slightest bit familiar to her. Another thing was that the word family always made her feel sad. She guessed that she must be an orphan then, which maybe why the thought made her sad. That still didn't explain the unusual memories she was having though.
She could accept that the people she saw might have been her family at one time, assuming they really were dead, but what about all that stuff with the demon and everything?
"And I would really not have to release you without knowing there was someone to take care of you."
Dominique, since that was her name, glared at the doctor. "I'm perfectly capable at looking after myself doctor!"
Doctor Goldblum blinked at her words. "Oh I'm sure you are, but even so I would much prefer it if you… "
"Am I physically all right?" She suddenly interrupted him.
"Am...I…all right?" She repeated.
"Well… Yes, aside from the amnesia, you're in perfect health. I just want… "
"What you want is no concern of mine," she snapped. "Now, unless you intend to keep me here against my will then I'll be leaving. Have some of your nurses bring me some clothes would you." She pushed away the sheets and got up to leave. Another thing that convinced she had been going out to a Masquerade party was the less than conspicuous outfit she had been wearing, talk about revealing.
"Miss," the doctor pleaded with her, "I really must advise against this. You're in no condition to make… "
"And you're in no position to tell me what to do! Now get me some clothes and a cab to take me home!"
Doctor Goldblum stood there and stuttered for a while, before sighing, "Very well. However, I insist of referring you to a colleague of mine, Dr. Henry Jameson who's a doctor in psychology here and might be able to help you with your problem."
Dominique grumbled, but nodded her head in slow resignation.
"And I trust that I have no need to tell you to contact me at once if you should experience any problems such as headaches, dizzy spell and nausea?"
Dominique nodded again.
"Very well, I'll go and speak to Dr. Jameson and arrange a schedule for you to meet with him regularly," he said and going off to see if they had any clothes in the locker room that she could wear.
Once he was gone, Dominique gasped at herself. What was she thinking? How was she able to go home when she couldn't even remember where home was?
"I'm nuts," she whispered and wondered if perhaps that was very true. She buried her face in her hands and wept.
"Well you look pretty good for a nutty lady then."
Dominique looked up in surprise and saw a male doctor of about 30 standing in the doorway. He was dark tanned with blonde hair and brown eyes. He was not exactly muscular, but he did have a good and lean body that gave the impression that he knew how to take care of himself.
He smiled at her and walked up to her bed. "Terribly sorry to barge in like that," he spoke in a British accent, "but I couldn't help overhearing. I have just completed my rounds you see."
Dominique could only nod. "Umm… My name is Dominique, Dominique Destine."
The doctor smiled and held out his hand. "Doctor Edward Kilby at your assistance milady," he said charmingly.
Dominique smiled back and shook his hand.
"May I ask what it was that got you so upset and think you were… less than sane?" Doctor Kilby questioned.
Dominique crossed her arms. "No, you may not."
Edward Kilby blinked a bit, but accepted her privacy. 'She must not like to talk to strangers,' he thought. "Will you be staying long?"
"No," she replied, loosing some of the harshness in her voice. "I'm going home now actually, just as soon as Doctor Goldblum or whoever brings me some clothes to wear."
"Oh, were you mugged?"
Edward blinked at her a few times. "Whoa, I'm amazed you're still standing."
"So is everyone else apparently," Dominique muttered.
"Miss Destine," said a nurse as she came inside with a pile of clothes under her arm. "We found some garments for you to wear. Now keep in mind that they're nothing fancy, but at least they're clean and dry."
"Thank you," Dominique responded and took the clothes from her. "If you will excuse me doctor," she said, looking at Edward.
Edward bowed. "A pleasure to meet you Miss Destine, maybe we can meet up again some time?"
Dominique cocked an eye-ridge at him. "Perhaps," she finally answered though she didn't really have any intention of doing so.
Edward smiled one more time before leaving the room.
The nurse who had brought her clothes, with the nametag Betty Sears, grinned. "That there is young Doctor Edward Kilby, handsomest doctor in the hospital. He recently emigrated here from England, doesn't know a lot of people, but he's easy to get along with… "
"I neither know nor care who he is or where he's from," Dominique interrupted her, "I just want to get dressed and leave this place!"
The nurse gasped a little, not used to being spoken to in such a way, but nodded and pulled the blinds back to give her some privacy to change.
Dominique didn't know why she had snapped at the nurse like that, but at the moment she didn't care. There was just something about her being around all these people, she couldn't stand it.
The clothes she had been given were a simple green sweatshirt, blue jeans and some white sneakers
She hastily dressed herself and stepped out from behind the blinds. "Where are the police officers who brought me in here?"
Betty Sears pointed out the room, "They were in the waiting room, last I heard, talking to Doctor Goldblum."
Dominique didn't bother to say thank you or goodbye and just left.
Betty Sears grumbled and muttered, "Bitch," under her breath.
Morgan was about to call it quits and leave when the last person he expected to see came striding down the hallway towards him.
She stopped in front of him and abruptly asked, "Are you the officer who brought me in tonight?"
Morgan blinked a couple of times. "Umm, yes that's right."
"Good, then you can take me home."
"Are you sure that's all right? I mean, shouldn't you stay here for at least a couple of days?"
She glared at him and snapped, "I don't need doctors or nurses telling me what I should do, so I'll be damned if I'll take them from a police officer as well!"
Morgan actually stepped back a bit at her outburst. 'Girl's definitely got some spunk in her,' he thought. 'Yup, Elisa definitely should have handled this one.'
"Sorry ma'am, but if you're feeling any better then… By any chance, do you remember anything of what just happened tonight?"
Dominique Destine frowned and after a few moments, she finally sighed and said, "No, I don't recall anything before I woke up and found you guys staring down at me."
Morgan sighed also, knowing that without a statement from her this case was more or less closed.
"I see. Well, thank you anyway Miss Destine. Is there anything else we can do for you?"
"You can tell me what I do and where my place is for starters."
Morgan's eyes widened. "What… you do?"
"Yeah, what's my job? Where do I work, that sort of thing."
"Oh," Morgan understood. "Well, I know you're a CEO for some big company called Nightstone. It's not far from here actually, and you live in a private mansion called Destine Manor."
"Good, would you mind taking me there," it was more like a command than it was a request, but Morgan chose to ignore it and escort the young lady home.
"Sure ma'am, though I warn you that the forensic boys have just finished going through your place looking for evidence. They're not exactly the tidiest of people."
Dominique shrugged. She couldn't even remember her home looked like so she didn't care if it was messy.
"If you would just mind waiting a few moments for my partner to get back," Morgan asked her politely. "He's just gone for some coffee."
Dominique moaned a bit, but stayed standing where she was, impatiently tapping her foot until the other officer finally arrived with a cup of coffee and a jelly doughnut in his hand.
'So what they say about cops is true then,' she thought, looking amusedly at the sweet. "May we go now?"
"Yes ma'am," Morgan quickly explained the situation to Jamie who nodded and smiled pleasantly at her. Dominique barely gave him a glance and just followed them out of the hospital to their waiting car.
Dominique didn't mind driving in the backseat of a police car, considering that she didn't have any other choice since she had no money for a cab. She just found the obnoxious voices of Morgan and Jamie O'Brian so damn annoying. They constantly chatted about how they hoped she would be feeling well soon and answer their questions.
Dominique still didn't know why she was so uneasy around other people. Maybe she had had a bad experience as a child that her body subconsciously remembered? Either way, she didn't like to be around anyone it appeared. So she kept her distance.
The only one she hadn't had a bad experience with was that doctor Kilby. He seemed rather nice, but even with him, she still felt an odd feeling of revolution whenever she was near him or anyone.
"There you go ma'am," Morgan said as he stopped the car and got out, "Home sweet home."
Dominique gaped a little at the huge building. Well, it was no wonder she kept having funny dreams about living in a castle, this place was big enough to be considered a castle.
"Umm, thank you," she said and got up out of the car. "Thank you for the ride and I assume you'll want me to stay in touch for when and if I should my memories ever return."
"Yes ma'am," Morgan coolly responded.
"Then I bid you goodnight," Dominique said finally and walked up the steps to the front door.
"Err ma'am," Morgan called her.
"What?" Dominique was frustrated and wanted them to leave.
"I think you'll be needing this," he said as he fished a key out of his pocket, "the key to the front door."
"Oh," she said, blushing slightly, "thank you." she snatched them out of his hand, strode back up to the door and entered the mansion, slamming the door behind her.
"Geez," Jamie said, "what crawled up her knickers?"
Morgan shrugged. "Well she has lost her memory Jamie; you can't blame her for being a little cranky."
Jamie huffed. "Cranky yes, but that girl was downright bitchy!"
Morgan rolled his eyes.
"Nice tits though."
Morgan snorted. "Come on, let's go."
To Be Continued…