Postby PNWgal » Sun Jun 06, 2010 11:33 pm
"Over the years I tried to stay close...just out of sight...in case she needed me..."
We all know the story - vampire saves little girl, vampire burns up ex-wife who stole little girl in a fire, vampire meets up with the grown woman the little girl becomes 22 years down the road at a crime scene...and the rest is history.

The question is...what happened in those 22 years between the fire and the fountain? Did Mick REALLY stay just out of sight? Beth said she always felt safe in spite of never knowing who kidnapped her as a child - could she have possibly caught a glimpse of her guardian angel? Did Josef ever know about the child Mick saved and kept tabs on? What REALLY happened to Coraline between being "burned" and turning up as Morgan?
Curious minds want to know!
The challenge is to write a fic - any length, rating or characters - about what YOU think happened Between the Fire and the Fountain. This challenge runs until the end of June.
Gentle Readers.......here is my PG 13 rated response to the Challenge:
Missed Me, Missed Me. After This, You’ll Never Kiss Me………
Tonight, this moonless, ungrateful night, I ask, for the essence of whatever we had Mick, WHY?
In one of your righteous blind rages you staked me, or thought you did.
How did you raise your hand against me? Your sire, your wife, the woman you said you’d love “forever”. Generally it’s said talk is cheap, now your words aren’t worth the paper our marriage license was typed on.
What were our yesterdays worth, that you shatter my heart like this?
Was all your chatter about a family just idle drivel, something to fill my head while you were off dawdling with Josef?
When we fought and clawed at each other, all I wanted was to hold you, feel your arms around my shoulders, and feel you call me “yours”. I so deeply desired to hear you say that you’d “love me forever”, as I’ve loved you for decades.
You threw that lantern in my specific direction, igniting the space between us……burning up any whimsy I had of us being together, being a family. Who are you, judge and jury to send me to an ashy grave? Who are you to suppose in your scant undead time YOU could judge ME?
Then you scuttled out, carrying that little whelp like she was a prize. Didn’t you notice me in the window? Smacking the wired pane like a barmy woman… …
I lugged myself away from the window, knowing full well you were miles down the road. You never saw the soot smudged tears in my eyes or offer to sooth my heart rending ache. You left me to pick splinters out of my knees, my hands, alone.
I knew that little Turner girl would be in her own bed before I could draw my next meal. I knew you’d be in that loft, alone. My burns have already healed; chalk it up to my lineage, being a Duvall. Yet as any woman in an unreturned love, I suffer the stabbing pangs in my vacant heart where I held your ardor.
Mick, in all our romance, you’ve driven me mad. At first it was your uncommonly godlike human body, your lust that knew no bounds for a mortal. I’d look into those hazel eyes of yours and see the two of us prowling the ends of the earth together in perpetuity. It was always my nature to crave you, as it was your nature to press on and retreat and advance once more. Mick, you drive me in into frenzies only in dark, ludicrous ways I cannot begin to count.
Will you go to your rest a million mornings hearing my cry? I can only hope............