Chapter Fourteen:
Bewitched, Bothered And Bewildered

by Chris, dL and Rach

---

"Shoes!" she huffed, "Why must -one- girl seek to own -so- many pairs of -shoes-!?" The bemused silver fox shifted from within a large pink shopping bag.

"Well, I don't know. They're just... necessary. I mean -these- go with my short black skirt and red top," Rhiannon assured, slightly elevating a stack of boxes to prove her words, "And -these- go with my long denim skirt and white top."

Medea peered over the bag. "Can't you just wear tennis shoes?"

"Only when I play tennis!" Rhiannon grinned honestly.

"Of course. What else would I expect of you." Medea sank back into the bag, covering her nose with her paws.

"You couldn't possibly understand. You're a fox; you've never worn shoes."

"Yes, I have. And who are you to snag one at me, two-legger."

Rhiannon stuck her tongue out at Medea, then plopped down on a nearby bench. Faintly, from across the large corridor aisle of the mall, a male's voice shouted Rhia's name. She looked around, not seeing any familiar faces. "Rhia!" she heard again. The girl then noticed the face of the boy, farthest from whom she expected, as he approached her. "Chad?" Rhia questioned with utter bewilderment.

"Hey, Rhia! How ya holdin' up?" Chad asked with a casual friend tone. "I mean, you been playing nice and all?"

"Er..." She cocked an eyebrow. Rhiannon wasn't disappointed to see him, just... surprised. After all, they only met once before. "Oh, I'm doing great. How have you been? Since summer, that is?"

"Oh lord," Medea sighed, tired of her exploits in the mall... and in the bag.

Lifting his own set of boxes, Chad answered, "Doin' pretty good, myself. I've just been around, though. Not much to do in the fall 'cept shop."

"Yep." She nodded. "Uh, what have you bought so far?" Rhia asked, noticing a stack of boxes almost rivaling her own.

"Not much, just a few pairs of kicks."

Something was obviously lost in the translation. "Kicks?" Rhiannon shed a curious look on her face.

"Ya know. Shoes," he grinned.

Medea's ears perked up from the bag, as she mumbled the word again to herself. One might suppose shoes had now become the bane of her never-ending day.

Rhia smiled, raising her boxes to show a kindred passion. "Shoes."

He smiled, approvingly. "Well, it's gettin' kinda late and I've got class... but... It was great seeing you again!" Chad winked.

"Yeah, it was. It was really nice," she gave a shy half-smile and looked up at him, then to the glass roof above. "Full moon. You better be careful."

"Take care," he spoke, departing with his stack of boxes.

"You too!" Rhiannon shouted, in order to reach him at his distance. She looked down into the bag beside her. "Cute, isn't he?"

Medea tilted her head and stared at Rhiannon. "Shoes." After an odd look from Rhiannon, the fox continued. "He's right, you know. It's getting late. We better head back to school." The two made their way to the escalator and began their ascent.

---

Sometimes Clare had some pretty weird ideas. Like, today, for instance, when she cornered Ian after he got back from the gym. "A lot of people go to the mall, don't they? (Well, yes, they do.) Then I have the most wonderful idea! We haven't found a teammate in so long, I think we should try to find a new one, don't you think? (I guess so...) We're going to the mall, and we're going to sit above the main entrance on the roof (What?) , so that way I can still sense, but we won't be seen! Isn't that a wonderful idea? (...) Go off and get your motorcycle, we're leaving now. (... yes, Clare)."

Ian had learned by this point that it was just easiest to indulge Clare in her little ideas. Anyway, it'd only be for a few hours, he told himself. It's not that bad.

Three hours later, and wearing a fuku not really meant for just standing around in the cold November wind, Ian, or rather Gabriel, paced on the rooftop, trying to keep warm. "Can't we leave yet, Clare? I've got a paper I should be writing and..."

"No, we're staying here until the mall is closed, or I detect an Angelus," she answered.

Clare had shed most of her light, summer coat by this point, and was now a luxurious white, with a few brown patches still remaining here and there. She wasn't freezing cold, she was perfectly fine. "Well, can I at least wear some -pants- or something, because it's really cold up here and my legs are bare and they're freezing and..."

"Does your Gabriel outfit come with pants?"

"...No."

"There's your answer."

"But, if I just detransformed, I'd be wearing pants and a jacket and..."

"And do you want to jump all the way down there without any of your powers?"

"...No."

"And if I sensed a Grigori and you had to attack them, would you want to waste time in transforming?"

"...No."

"See, doesn't everything work out nicely the way I planned it?"

"...N...yes."

And so, Clare and Gabriel sat on the top of the mall, waiting for an Angelus senshi to walk beneath them, either for welcoming, or for fighting. Sadly, Clare had forgotten one tiny little thing about her plan -- Ian was transformed, and as Gabriel, he was casting a steady signal to any -other- guardians who happened to be lounging about, Angelus, or no.

---

"Rhiannon. Stop right there," Medea insisted.

"But we're still on the esca--" the girl capsized over the bag, as she halted movement from off the escalator. "See, -this- is what happens when I listen to you..."

The fox commanded, "Just pick up your things, I sense a presence again... and not a friendly one at that."

"Romanus? Astronomia?" Rhiannon questioned, picking up her boxes and wondering where to hide them.

Medea became uneasy, "This is not an enemy we've faced before and I'm not quite certain as to whom they belong just yet..." She noticed Rhia scrambling for a nook of some kind to stash her newfound treasures and cleverly suggested, "Just take them with you. There's no time!"

"BUT!"

"Just transform, child!"

"All right!" Rhiannon hastened to the ladies' room and tossed the boxes into the air. Th flustered girl softly cradled her fingers around her forehead. The glistening coronet elevating, then casting down its triple rays of divine bliss. Hecate then stood, in a scrounging pose, attempting to collect her many boxes. The boxes, of course, had long since hit the tile flooring. After a brief restacking, she hid the boxes in a very inconspicuous place... a rent-a-locker...

Not paying -too- much attention to anything at the moment, Medea came upon a reality, "Rhiannon!"

"What!?"

"You've transformed!" the fox snapped.

"Yeah. So?"

"We're in a crowded mall."

"Oh dear... Uhm... What do I do?"

"All right. Act calm and walk out the door."

"WHAT!? Like -this-!?"

"Pretend you're a gimmick for some store," Medea gave Hecate the once over, "Say it's Victoria's Secret."

The senshi glared, then took in a deep breath. She exited the ladies' room and started walking down the hall. After a few keen stares from passers-by, Rhiannon was taking too much time. She and her trusty steed... I mean, -companion-, darted down the aisle, trying to reach the service elevator as quickly as possible. But... it wouldn't open!

"Hecate, now!" Medea shouted.

Hecate stabbed the door to the service lift and pried it open. She grabbed Medea and hasted to the top of the ladder there.

"You -do- know that an -elevator- comes and -takes- you to this level... right???" the fox sarcastically babied.

"I thought we were in a hurry."

"Well, not -that- big of a rush. I mean, you slew the bloody steel panel, dear. We're going to have to repair that... or at least prop it up when we leave."

"Uhm... -suuuure-," Hecate raised her eyebrows. "We'll -prop- it back up." She shook her head with noticeably cheeky smile and continued walking around the maze of large air ducts.

"Hush, child!" Medea ironically shouted. "They are indeed on this very roof."

"They!? Now there's a -THEY-!?" Hecate whispered, presented with another obstacle.

"Relax. One's a guardian. A -strange- one at that."

A blank expression overcame the senshi, "-There's- something I'd never expect... a -strange- guardian."

Medea ignored the comment and continued with a sense of mystery, "She's not like the others. She's more... like me." As these cryptic lines were spoken, the two ladies approached their enemies at hand.

Hecate stepped forward, facing a gentleman's back. She whistled loudly to attract his attention. "Yoo-hoo!"

"Behind you,!" yelled Clare, as she saw the girl and her fox coming out of the elevator shaft. The tiny weasel scurried in front of her boy and glared at her new roof-mates.

Gabriel turned around, sword drawn, and faced Hecate. "This is not what I came here to do..." he said more to himself than to anyone else. "Why am I always fighting girls?" he continued. Speaking up, he finally said, "Yay, another senshi that I don't know, and most likely isn't on my team." He looked, in addition to cold and dirty from sitting on a roof for several hours, a little bit angry that Clare's idea had worked so well.

"I can solve that," Hecate reassured, extending her left hand. "I am Sailor Hecate, Graikos Deus Senshi of Sorcery. Lovely moon, isn't it?"

The fox was baffled at the introductory act of civility. Medea is apparently uber-baffled 24/7.

The weasel stiffened when she heard who Ian's new sparring partner was. "She's a... a... a practitioner of the Dark Arts!" Clare gasped.

"Yes, thank you for pointing that out, Clare," Gabriel said bluntly.

Hecate twirled her fingers above her head, "Yeah. Whoopdee-doo, Clare." After a serious glare from Medea, Hecate lowered her hands and resumed a professional tone and stance. "So you're what they call an Angelus, eh?" she noted, remembering a conversation several months ago with Jace. "From what I hear, you just stand there and look pretty... This'll be interesting." She raised her right arm in a defensive mode.

-Take the initiative, take the initiative, take the initiative, she's calling you out.- "Torrent of Lilies, BLADE!" shouted Gabriel, jabbing his sword out at Hecate as a strong jet of lily-crested water surged out of it towards her.

Hecate braced herself, as the harsh pummeling of petals slid across her face and thighs. "Waa! My skirt! It's practically gone!" she cried. "You punk!"

"Hecate, dear. It was hardly ever there," snapped Medea, hoping to cash in on a little insult to repay for the long day of shoe-shopping.

The female senshi stood, panting. Her body was drenched and barely clothen... and the battle has just begun! "Done, now? I should hope so." Hecate crossed her arms, right over left, as she had done several times before. "Cruentos Ictos!" She lunged at Gabriel with immense speed, until contact. She thrusted her upper arm back into his chest, delivering a strict blow unto his stomach. Then, as if a natural act of function, her gauntlet raised, succeeding the previous with a stab of the fifth and longest blade into his left side. The gauntlet retracted, then proceeded to manufacture a clean final slice across his chest against the grain of the blades, but Hecate drew back gently, only allowing the slice to shred across his garment, now draping lowly to his waist. Hecate seethed in a deep breath through her teeth.

"Finish!" Medea shouted from the sidelines.

"I can't. It's not right. I mean... he fights with flowers and water. I could easily kill him," Hecate pitied, underestimating Gabriel, but not wanting to slay another human just yet.

The fox widened her eyes, "Mercy is for the weak in this war, Hecate... Mercy is -not- your nature... my Goddess."

Hecate stared again at Gabriel, with a fierce tension in her eyes, "Show me more and I'll finish, Angelus."

Gabriel felt his side. It hurt -- a lot. This one was dangerous. He was suddenly really missing those female senshi of love and wine and speed at the moment. He liked them. The gold outer layer of his over-shirt was torn across his chest, revealing the red layer beneath, closer to his skin. That wasn't the only extra red showing, as a small crimson stain appeared on his left side.

"YOU LITTLE TROLLUP!" shrieked Clare, who launched herself at Medea, claws bared, her sharp teeth digging into the back of the fox's neck.

That wasn't what Gabriel had wanted to happen. It really wasn't. But, go with what you're given, he only had a moment left to act. He never knew how this was going to work, but it was worth a try. He pressed a finger to his eye, and cast a single, solitary tear, glinting in the moonlight, at the smirking Hecate across from him.

Medea drop-rolled forward, freeing herself from the weasel and clawing her tail back a bit. "Hecate! Once more!"

The girl raised her arm again, with a furious gleam in her eyes, a gleam never seen before. Perhaps she wanted to finally win one of these battles... or maybe it was just the light reflecting off the cold steel blades. Whatever the case, Hecate had every intention to fight him now... But... she couldn't. "Medea! I can't!"

"Oh, come now! Tough it up! You can beat him!" chanted the silver fox.

Hecate looked around, searching for something... maybe an answer. "No... I -really- can't!"

Medea immediately snarled at Gabriel. "-He's- doing this to you. The bastard!" She lept up from the ground below and started to claw at his pretty, fru-fru skirt... or is that considered a dress? "Let her go! She stopped for you!"

"LET GO OF MY BOY, YOU HARLOT!" shrieked Clare, once again diving at Medea, and latching onto the fox's back.

-Every battle just keeps on getting weirder-, surmised Gabriel to himself. He has his weasel fighting a fox, a fox scratching at his legs, he had taken a blade-wound to his side, and the girl in front of him wasn't able to attack him again, but for how much longer? He was feeling really grumpy by this point, too. "Alright!" he yelled. "Fox! Off of my leg... thing!" Even Gabriel didn't really know what to call it. "Clare! Off of the fox, or you don't get to watch the Catholic Channel for a week!"

Clare leapt up off of the fox, latched herself onto Gabriel's skirt- thing, and crawled her way up to sit around his neck, still glaring at the fox below her. She nursed her tail, it was bleeding slightly.

Gabriel turned his attention back at the fox at his feet. "She just ran me through with that bladed glove thing, what do you expect me to do? Now if you'll excuse me, I'm bleeding and rather upset." With that, he reached down, picked up Medea by the scruff of her neck, got his arms fairly scratched up, and walked the squirming and complaining guardian back over to Hecate. "I believe this is yours?"

"Yeah. Sure," the girl mumbled in a morose tone, glaring at the ground below her. "I'm really very sorry about hurting you like that. It's just... what I do." Hecate raised her head upward, and with a gentle gaze into his eyes, she shed two strands of tears; tears of blood. In a calmer than natural tone, the girl asked, "You -did- do this to me, right? I mean... -You- brought forth my pain and suffering as my punishment?"

Gabriel stared at her eyes and -his- eyes did a flip-flop, colorwise. "Wow... delayed reaction..." he mumbled. "Errr... yes."

Hecate, smearing the flaking crimson tear away from her cheek, looked to him with a sense of utter loss. "In that case," she stepped back. "I'm -so- over you." Hecate raised her bloody palm to the sky and called out, "Twilight ECLIPSE!!" The large, round moon above cast an ethereal light down upon her body, materializing the athame, her sacred dagger. She grabbed the weapon and immediately shot it down to the gravel upon the rooftop, not wasting time blasting him with mere streams of energy. The light then extinguished both around her and and in the moon. Amidst a pitch black sky, nothing could be seen other than a few stray lights from the city. A surge of electrical glow came from the athame, impacting Gabriel as his feet.

As a calm light enveloped his body, no pain was felt, for this was merely a light show to him at this point. The light quickly dimmed, leaving everything in total darkness around them.

"About time that wore off," Medea sighed, relieved that her friend was now cast from under his spell and able to fight again.

Gabriel couldn't see. Everything was a deep, dark black before him. -Yes, perfect- he thought. -Just what I needed. I'm blind. Wonderful.- "Clare," he said, "I'm blind."

"Clare, keep her busy," he whispered. So far, she'd made him bleed from his side, and his eyes tonight. He'd only thrown a bit of water at her. He was now feeling a little bit vengeful, and a lot desperate. Something inside him seemed to cheer him on. "Herald Trumpet of Justice," he whispered. A flash of water appeared in his hand, and stretched itself into the shape of a long trumpet. It became what it looked like, and Gabriel raised it to his lips, still keeping a tight grip on his sword in his other hand. "The Wrath of God upon ye, Hecate." he said softly.

He blew the trumpet, and it sounded clearly throughout the night. Now if he could just keep it up...

The single note tempted Hecate's ears, then maliciously impaired them with a gentle noise turned sonic boom. Her hearing soon became affected, as she clenched her hands tightly to her heads. Hecate screeched at the top of her -lungs-. "What the HELL do you think you're doing!?" She walked straight for him. "I repeat. What the HELL do you think you are doing!? Are you trying to KILL me!?" The girl looked around, remembering where she was and who she was. "Oh." The noise still continuing around her.

"Hecate! Run! The noise is unbearable!" Medea shouted, galloping her tiny (shoeless) feet at full pace.

"But!" Hecate started to run, only to follow her guardian, "I don't -flee-. No one -flees-! That's... -stupid-!" The girl, consumed with self-confidence, stopped a mere eighty feet from him, half the distance needed to escape his timely wrath. "Gabriel! Fight like a senshi!"

Gabriel Knight lowered his silver trumpet, he has stopped blowing the deafening note, yet the note still played in the air. Clare whispered into his ear, "She started to leave, but she's stopped."

Gabriel dropped the trumpet, it disappeared before it hit the ground, and he swung his sword through the air before him once. "If you do not leave," he shouted, "I shall continue this!" Gabriel waited for some sort of response from either Clare or Hecate. He was desperate, certainly, or he wouldn't have tried this trick, the last thing he wanted to do was to really hurt someone.

"Hey, dude! I'm, like, a hundred feet away... do you -really- think your sword can hit me from this far away?" Hecate shouted back, the effects of the attack not yet noticeable to her.

Gabriel couldn't believe his ears. He -heard- the trumpet ringing in the air, so he knew that it must have been working. Was she out of range? "Clare, is she just standing there?"

Clare looked at her, her sharp weasel eyes perfect for peeing into the darkness. "Yes, she's on the other edge of the roof."

"Is she still within range?"

"She -should- be."

Gabriel angrily swung his sword once, twice, three, four, five times in the air. It felt good. He held it poised for a sixth. "What's she doing now?"

From across the roof, Hecate questioned to Medea, "What the hell is he doing now?" Hecate looked around for the effects of his attack. Nothing could be identified, thus something big was -really- going on, seeding deep from patience itself. She began to get nervous, awaiting the purpose to his piercing bellow and bladed strikes into the air. The girl started breathing heavily, then apprehensively in wait, when she noticed her breaths were decreasing in volume. She started to choke. Hecate pressed her hands against her chest in severe pain, trying to murmur words to Medea.

The fox stared at Hecate, now to her knees, then to him, the sword-wielding Gabriel. Medea rushed over to her friend and attempted to drag her away from the battle, but Hecate was far too weak and heavy to aid the small beast. Medea positioned Hecate's body, as best as she could, to be flat on her back. As the senshi's head lay horizontal to the ground, a bit of watery liquid rushed slowly from her mouth. Medea now realized what Gabriel had done. His silent strikes from the distance filled her lungs with water, carefully and patiently drowning her.

Medea started to weep. She was far too small to do anything to save the girl. And she could not merely pick up a phone and dial for help. Hecate was slowly dying, and there was nothing -she- could do.

"She's passed out on the ground," said Clare, whispering in Gabriel's ear.

"Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap, oh crap, oh crap, oh crap, oh crap," Gabriel said. He -really- wished that he could see, at this point. Why had he taken so many strokes? He quickly sheathed his sword, and stood there like the idiot that he was. What was he going to do now? -Canada, I'll run away to Canada, they'll never look for me there. I'll just have to stay away from those Mounties and I'll be in the clear... They've got trees and mooses and sled-dogs, lots of lumber and lumberjacks and logs. We all think that it's kind of a drag that you have to go there to get milk in a bag- "They say 'eh?' instead of 'what?' or 'duh?' That's the mighty power of Canada," sadly Ian said the last two lines, clearly delusional from blood loss and the shock of the situation.

Not paying the slightest attention to her enemies, Medea pounced onto Hecate's chest. She tried to give her some form of CPR or the Heimlich or -something- to drain this poison liquid from her body. The poor fox might've tried mouth-to-mouth, but didn't see the point... given the fact that one needs lips or at least a larger lung system to perform the maneuver. As Medea plunged repeatedly on top of Hecate, small amounts of water spurted from her mouth, not enough to mean something positive yet but definitely meaning -something- was going on in her favor.

"If only someone else were here!" Medea huffed, as she continued her steady jumps. The idea of resuscitation was fading. Perhaps Hecate's lungs were too full to fix without magical means... or at least, a hospital. But on this rooftop, -no one- had the magic to stop it and -no one- was getting near any phone.

They were stuck there. Four magical beings, in a stalemate of sorts, with favor to the Angelus.

More water drizzled from Hecate's mouth, as Medea attempted another lunge at the girl's chest. Upon the third pounce, Hecate's body began to convulse. Her lungs were draining more and more. Though she was thankful, Medea did not halt her pouncing, not wanting to cause her friend to drift back into remission. Hecate quickly regained consciousness and started to choke on the water, her throat asphyxiating with every attempt to furiously purge the liquid from her system. She successfully began to rid the water, making sure as not to ruin her fuku further. Hecate raised up, coughing the remaining portion as best she could. Leaning on an metal post, she attempted to stand, still very dizzy from the incident.

"Thank you, Medea," the girl spoke, to her loyal guardian and friend.

The fox beamed with modesty, "You're my child, Hecate. No harm will come to you."

Hecate leaned down and ran her fingers across Medea's head. She then stood fully upright and ventured back to the playing field, back to Gabriel. Every seed of desire she had ever possessed was now compromised with thoughts of revenge. For, she had almost died, and now... it was -his- turn.

"Hecate. Stop!" reasoned the fox. "It is not your place to continue this fight now."

"What do you suggest I do? Leave?" Hecate scoffed. "I -never- leave first. It's not in my nature."

"Well, it is this time." The final answer was cast. Medea had spoken.

"For you," the girl rationalized. "But I get to rip him a new one next time."

"As you wish."

And with this, the two Graikos slowly fled the scene. "It's not over yet, Angelus! It's not over yet!" The girl's voice could be heard echoing about the rooftop, but they were nowhere to be seen.

"Did we say that William Shatner is a native citizen and slurpees made from venison, that's deer? Let's go to Canada, let's leave today, Canada, oh, Canada, I Si Vous Plait," Gabriel rambled on.

Clare batted Gabriel's face with her paw. "She's gone, come back to your senses!"

Gabriel turned a blank face to Clare, his eyes and face covered in blood, his hands stained as crimson as his robes. "Oh, really? How nice. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to pass out." He slumped to his knees, feeling the full effects of his trumpet attack. He felt like he hadn't breathed as long as the attack went on, and with his side bleeding, that felt pretty gosh-darn awful. "Never... looking... for... Angelus... by... myself... ever... again..." he wheezed out.

Clare tried to lick the blood from Ian's face, sadly all that she got was a mouth full of copper-taste, and a muzzle covered in red. The tears of blood kept flowing. Clare kept a careful watch out, to see if Hecate would return, but she didn't. From the looks of things, they really had left. "Oh, my dear precious boy, I'll never make you do this ever again by yourself, you'll get someone else to do it, I'm so sorry and I'm praying for you even as we speak." Clare then went into a round of Hail Mary's and followed up by a couple of Our Father's.

After a few minutes of Gabriel Knight panting on the ground, bleeding from his side, and bleeding from his eyes, with a weasel saying "Our Father who art in Heaven, hallowed by Thy Name", he managed to stumble back onto his feet. He needed medical help, and fast. He also needed to get off of the roof, and fast. "Clare, I need you to lead me to the edge of the roof, then I'll jump down, okay?" Clare climbed onto his shoulder, and led him to the edge of the roof, Gabriel only tripping over piping twice in his way to get there, and falling down only one of those times.

"You're at the edge, now," she told him. "There's some bushes, I think. You might try jumping into them."

Gabriel nodded, and slid over the edge, landing with a thump in some very dry, very prickly, very scratchy bushes. His butt hurt from the landing, though he managed to struggle out of the bushes and back onto his feet. "Dear Father, please, just let this night end..." Gabriel said. He then detransformed, and felt a -lot- worse. The pain seemed to double in his side. "Clare... I need you to find me a phone, now. I can't see to get home. I've got money and I keep a list of phone numbers in my wallet. You'll have to read it off for me."

Thankfully, by this point, the mall was almost deserted, so no-one saw the boy covered in blood at the telephone, dialing a number that a weasel was reading off of a little card. "Come -on- Felice, pick - up-," Ian gasped into the phone. Felice had an awful lot of very appealing qualities at the moment. Number one, he was a doctor. Number two, he was an Angelus. Number three, he was an Angelus with healing powers. Number four, unlike Amir, who also had healing powers, he didn't live out of town. There was a click on the other end of the line. -Please, God, don't let it be an answering machine- Ian prayed.

Felice, who had been happily asleep in his bed - his daughter asleep in the room next to his - was startled awake by the sudden jarring of his phone. "Mmf?" he muttered sleepily, pulling his face up from his pillow. Numbly, he reached for his glasses, but succeeded in

finding the phone instead - even better. With a yawn, he picked up the phone and whispered thickly into the receiver, "'Lo?"

"Oh, thank God, you're there," Ian said quickly. "Felice, it's Ian, I got into a battle when I wasn't ready for it and now I'm bleeding from my eyes and my side and," Ian paused and quickly breathed in, a sharp pain in his side, "it hurts and I need help."

There was silence on the other end for a moment. Suddenly, Felice spoke up, fully awake, "Ian, tell me where you are. I'll be there quick as possible. In the mean time, try not to move so much, get some bandages on those wounds to stop the bleeding. Rip your clothes if you have to. We need that blood to clot, understand?" Felice instructed. While speaking, he searched the night table for his glasses, discovered them quickly enough, and put them on.

"I'm at the mall, the big one, Valley View, next to the movie theater. Clare's here with me and I'm blind, Felice..." Ian said.

"Just relax, okay? You should still be able to rip material and tie it around, your hands aren't damaged." Felice ordered, rolling out of bed. "Tell me exactly where you are."

"I'm in a phone-booth, bleeding all over it."

He slipped his feet into his slippers and, switching the phone to the next ear, said, "Stay there. I'm going to hang up now. I'll be there soon." With that he replaced the phone into its base, and stepped into the living room, where his daughter - much to his disappointment - was sitting playing video games with the sound off.

"Dad?" she asked, turning to face him. Awkwardly, she laughed and blushed, "I had trouble sleeping, s'all," she explained.

"Explain later, hon, I've gotta make a house call," Felice said hurriedly, grabbed his jacket and left the house in nothing but his pajama's, slippers, and jacket. Outside of his car, Felice called his henshin and was soon dressed as the flashy Ardousius. Ian was in need of fast healing at this point, not the care a doctor could provide. Hopping into his car, Ardousius started the engine and literally zoomed his way over to Ian's location.

Upon arrival, Ardousius stumbled out of his car and towards Ian's phone-booth, where he laid a reassuring hand on the young man's shoulder. "Show me your eyes first," he said calmly, giving Clare a nod of greetings.

Ian, who by this point had ripped his shirt into shreds ,-I liked that shirt,- and had it wrapped around his side, looked up blankly at Felice, and gave him a pained grin. "Thank God, Felice, I was starting to think I was just going to sit here until someone else

needed to make a phone call."

"Well, I'm here, so don't worry about a thing, okay? After this you can help me yell at my daughter for playing too many video games," Ardousius carefully lifted his hand from Ian's shoulder and rested it just above his eyes, slowly exhaling as he prepared for the healing spell. This was going to be a toughie.

"Okay, Ian? I need you to keep your eyes open. It may get a little uncomfortable, but this shouldn't hurt." the older senshi said and then laughed. "Wow, usually when a doctor says that you know it's gonna hurt. I still don't think it will, though," Ardousius added cheerily, then closed his eyes and focused. "Mother Medicine," he muttered. A teal light gathered at the tips of his fingers, then slowly spread over the rest of his hand and, eventually, over Ian's eyes. "Keep 'em open," Ardousius warned, his own eyes still closed. Slowly Ian's eyes ceased their bleeding, the flesh healing quickly under Ardousius's hand.

Ian's eyes filled with, instead of tears of blood, real tears, washing away the blood from his eyes. He finally couldn't stand it anymore, and he blinked rapidly, and as he did so, he slowly regained his sight. The first thing that he saw was Ardousius's hand, slightly out-of-focus. The second thing that he saw was Clare, her front covered in Ian's blood. He groaned, and looked up into Ardousius's goggled face. "Thanks, Felice," Ian said. "I can see now, but everything's still a little blurry."

He tried to move, and the sudden pain in his side reminded Ian that he still had some damage he needed taken care of. He looked down at his side, the bandages looking totally haphazard, and saw the blood crusted on the wrappings. "One other thing, Ardy... my side. You got any better bandages than my shirt lying around?"

With an sigh of relief, Ardousius removed his hand and wiped some sweat from his brow. "Nope. But I can do one more healing."

"You sure, `cause if you faint on me, I don't think I can drive your car and... I'm gonna have to leave my motorcycle here, that sucks...," rambled Ian, not totally with it.

Clare spoke up from beside Ian and said, "Go ahead with the healing, Ardousius, and God bless you for doing this."

"Anything for you, Clare!" Ardousius said cheerily. "Lemme move these bandages real quick," he muttered, and carefully ripped the material apart, leaving the wound exposed. Quietly, he rested his hands over the wound and closed his eyes, muttering "Mother Medicine" and having the teal light surround his finger once more. It seeped into the injury and, slowly, closed it.

"There!" he yelled suddenly, beaming. "Good as new, eh?"

Ian grunted again. He was healed, but still weak from blood loss. "Thanks a million, Ardy," said Ian. He tried to stand up, but fell back, knocking his head on the phonebook. "Oww..." he rubbed the back of his head. "Well, you once asked me if anyone ever got hurt doing this stuff, right? Here's your answer. Some help getting up?" he asked.

Ardousius offered him a hand and carefully pulled Ian to his feet, supporting the wobbling man's weight on himself. "Right. I'm giving -you- a lift home," he laughed, shaking his head. "Although let me detransform first, all right? Marisse would have a fit if she saw me come home like this. Just lean against that wall there and soon we'll be on our way." Ardousius added, smiling a little.

"Detransform in the car, I don't care," Ian said, leaning on said wall. He looked into the phone booth, there was blood smeared on the floor, and some on one of the sides. Someone was going to have a fun little surprise in the morning. "Should we clean up that phone?" he asked, as soon as Ardousius had turned back into Felice.

Felice sighed and stared at the walls. He was feeling a bit too cramped in the airless phonebooth, and was eager to get out. "I don't know about you, Ian, but I left my Windex and rag at home." Felice replied, with a shrug and a wan smile. The effects of the quick double healing were beginning to kick in, and the phonebooth was spinning and colors were shifting in patterns that one normally needed a good shot of heroin to experience. "Ian," said the doctor, grinning from ear to ear. "Anyone ever tell you that you'd look -great- with blue skin?"

Ian stared at Felice for a few seconds, then turned to the weasel on his shoulder. He whispered, "I don't think he can drive, he's on acid."

"It's not that," Clare whispered back, "do you have any idea how much energy he must have put out to heal both your eyes and your side? He's only Angelus tier, I think it was too much for him."

Ian winced, and tried to figure out if he could manage to drive the car. The lightheadedness and sinking feeling in his stomach he got from just thinking about something as complex as driving gave him his answer. "I think I'd look like a big smurf, Felice," he finally answered.

"Being a smurf has its advantages," Felice countered. "For instance, there is Smurfette. Grrr-owl." he added, then laughed heartily.

"Dude, there's one girl and about a hundred guys. You'd have to wait like a month for your turn," Ian said, and then started hacking up his lungs.

The phonebooth slowly stopped spinning and the colors ceased their psychedelic melding, and Felice, rubbing his temples slightly, gave Ian a wan smile. "Give me a few minutes, kid," he explained, shaking his head. "I'll be right in a moment."

Ian nodded and managed to stop coughing. He'd most likely caught a cold from standing out on a rooftop for hours in the fall. "Stupid rooftop, stupid girl, stupid blood everywhere," he mumbled.

"You can explain to me in the car," Felice sighed, and grinned fully. "I'm all right now. Let's go, okay? Oh, and get that cough checked out, I don't like it."

"Yes, doctor," Ian mumbled as he lurched over to Felice's car. Clare scampered by his side as he slid into the backseat of the car, and sprawled out on it, the weasel slipping up to Ian's shoulder and nuzzling his face. -Why do I do this to myself?- Ian didn't think that he'd make it to class tomorrow, but at this point he really didn't care too much. He answered Felice's questions as they drove off out of the parking lot, and went home. -At least I`m still alive. Not going to class, nope.- "Stupid malls," Ian mumbled as Clare fell asleep on his shoulder; he wasn't going to do that again.

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