Okay, I know I'm a few weeks late on my chapter for WMB and should be focusing on that, but I'm posting this anyway, for several reasons. One, because the next chapter of WMB is going to take at least four more days and I want reviews now; two, because I was accepted into UC Davis for the fall and feel like celebrating with a story; three, because, well, I just felt like it.

Reviewers will be rewarded with good thoughts.


Slowly, Silently (Now the Moon)

By Eileen Blazer

April 2005

In the center of a room lay the body, curled like a babe, knees pulled up and pale limbs overlapping. Firelight painted curved patterns across the surface of its skin.

Remy LeBeau stood in the dimly lit room, his long trench coat draped over a shoulder. His throat felt clogged; breathing was difficult.

"Are you really gon' stare at her all night?"

He frowned, casting an angry glance at the figure lingering at the windowsill. "Dis wasn't necessary. We planned-"

"No. You planned an' ended up takin' too long."

His fists clenched over the edge of his shirt. "I tol' you t'night."

The companion shrugged. "Well, now we don't have t' wait."

"Damn it, I-"

The figure stepped into the semi-light. Bright gold hair stood out in stark contrast to her black apparel, and her eyes flashed with amusement. "Don't pout. Come on, darlin'. What's one lost notch on that belt o' yours? It's got enough studs." She approached him, playfully poking at his waist.

"She's dead, Bella. How can you be like dis?"

Bella rolled her eyes and stepped away. "How can I not? I'm an assassin, Remy. I kill people on a regular basis. Can you imagine what would happen if I allowed myself t' humanize m' targets? I'd have t' put a bullet in m' own head." She folded her arms and inclined her head to the moonlight. "Candra called, all right? She wanted Genevieve out o' her hair for good. Wasn't nothin' I could do."

Remy looked back to the body and sighed. "Da necklace?"

Something hit his chest. He caught it in his hand as it slid towards the ground. The glowing silver chain wrapped around his fingers. Remarkably plain, the item, not worth a girl's life. "What's so special 'bout dis, anyway?"

Bella shrugged. "Maybe Candra just liked da look of it."


In the comfort of his hotel room, Remy LeBeau collapsed onto silky sheets, burying his face into the plush warmth of a pillow. His body ached like he'd just run a marathon and he wanted nothing more than to sleep for years, undisturbed.

Unfortunately, sleep would not come.

Instead, he found himself haunted by memories. He'd known Genevieve only…what, two weeks? Three, if he counted the first week he'd spent observing. That wasn't enough to time to develop any serious lasting attachments, but enough to make those attachments a possibility for the future. She was a quiet girl, melancholy face, with wide blue eyes that sought him out like he was the answer to the universe.

Thin lips, always painted light, like pastel pink, or lavender. And such a naiveté. Whoever pulled her into the underworld had made a mistake –Genevieve had no chance of survival, really.

Now she was dead, a thing of the past, another chapter he'd have to close and not look back to. Not for the first time, Remy wondered why he was still in the business. All the easy answers came first: family obligation, fear for his safety, etc. But the other answers, the sneaky, dark, mean ones were bobbing just beneath those. He liked it. The thrill was exhilarating, stronger than his anger at Bella and Candra, stronger than his concern for Genevieve, strong enough to keep his hand always outstretched for that next mission.

He was such a bastard. Remy turned over in the bed and found something digging into his side. He reached into his pocket and retrieved the necklace. Let it snake around his hand as he held it up for viewing. His eyes searched for –whatever it was that Candra had seen, to make it worth so much. But all he saw was a glimmering chain that could've been bought anywhere; it seemed so common. Remy pursed his lips and dropped the chain to the side of the bed.

Sleep. He needed to get some rest. There'd be plenty of time to brood and think ill of his Benefactress –who always seemed to be the one benefiting- on the ride back home. Those more self-defacing thoughts, well, they could wait until the end of never before he analyzed them in greater detail. Genevieve… she was dead. Over. An unfortunate casualty he couldn't waste any more time moping over.

Remy was so persuasive, he almost believed himself.


"You're not really sleeping, are ya?"

Remy groaned and wondered who the hell had let someone into his room. "Go'way," he murmured sleepily, even though she was right; he'd been in bed for hours with his eyes closed, pretending that his consciousness was somewhere else.

"You're charmin', really."

He snorted. Nosy and snide. "Go'way," he repeated.

"An' so eloquent in speech."

"Damn it." Remy sat up in bed, intent on throwing out the invader of his privacy. He flung the thin sheets aside and- froze. Curled up on a chair was a thin, pale girl with short hair and deep burgundy lips. Striking in a good way. 'Sort of' green eyes peered at him doubtfully.

"How the likes o' you get the necklace?" She wondered with the shake of her head. "Ah thought Gen was better n' that."

"Genevieve died," he said, carefully.

Slight shock slipped onto her face. "Oh."

"Yeah."

"So now, Ah've got you."

"Pardon?"

The girl sighed and rolled her eyes. "You are the new owner o' the necklace, right?"

"M' just da delivery boy." He said.

"But for the moment, it's in your custody?"

"For da moment," Remy acknowledged. A part of him screamed for rational thought; why hadn't he followed through with his plan and tossed her out? How had she gotten inside? Why did she know about the necklace and Genevieve? Could she tell him why it was so important?

"Well, congrats. For da moment," she mimicked, "you got your own bona fide ghost. Ghost o' the necklace an' all." And then she stood up, so that the fabric of her rather Gothic gown tumbled down around her bare feet, and held out a hand for shaking.

He reached to touch her, but his hand passed through hers like she was nothing but mist.

"Oh, did Ah forget ta mention Ah can't make physical contact?" Sharp smile.

Remy had no words.


Ta da! Okay, probably the shortest chapter of anything I've posted in like, five years –that's almost not even an exaggeration. But I don't want this to become a long and drawn out story. I plan to update it fast and never put more thought into it than I put into this first chapter. I hope you don't mind, and if you do, hey, tell me in a review or else I'll never learn the error of my ways.

Check out my new journal. The link is up under homepage with my bio.

Questions? Comments? Coconuts? I'm Eileenblzr at Yahoo.