"THE TUDORS" Season Two - Photo Gallery
Below is a gallery featuring photographs from Season Two of the Showtime series, "THE TUDORS", starring Jonathan Rhys-Meyers:
Here is an Season 5 AU CHARMED story set at least a week-and-a-half after "Revelations". It's called "Auld Lang Syne" and yes . . . it is a New Year's Eve tale:
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"AULD LANG SYNE"
RATING: [PG-13]
SUMMARY: Cole and Olivia bring in the New Year at a swank party and discover more than they had bargained for. Set nine days after "Revelations" - alternate Season 5.
FEEDBACK: cancerjones1941@yahoo.com - Be my guest. But please, be kind.
DISCLAIMER: Cole Turner, the Charmed Ones and other characters related to Charmed to Spelling Productions, Brad Kern and Constance Burge. The McNeills are my creation.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Someone once suggested that I write an Xmas story featuring Cole and the McNeills. I couldn't think of one, and came up with a New Year story, instead. Two months late, I'm sorry to say. Hope you like it.
"AULD LANG SYNE"
"Good afternoon, Mr. Turner," the voice on the other end of the telephone greeted.
Turner. After nearly two months of acquaintance, Cole had learned that whenever his friend and neighbor, Olivia McNeill, felt nervous, she would call him by his surname. What she had to be nervous about on this gusty Monday, Cole had no idea.
He sighed. "Okay, Olivia, what do you want?"
"Who me?"
"Olivia!"
The other voice inhaled deeply. "All right," Olivia admitted. "I only wanted to know if you're free for tomorrow night. You know, New Year's Eve?"
Now it was Cole's turn to feel nervous. A date? Why would Olivia be interested in knowing whether he had a date or not? Was she interested in him? Or did she need a convenient companion for the New Year celebration, tomorrow? Cole suspected the latter. He did not mind. Somewhat. After all, the last thing he needed another romance so soon after his divorce. Rebound was not exactly his style. Yet, another part of him could not deny his attraction to the red-haired witch. Should he accept her offer? Or reject Olivia? Cole took a deep breath. "No, I don't have a date. Are you asking me out on one?"
Silence preceded Olivia's reply. "Well, I guess you can call it a date. I thought you wouldn't mind coming to a New Year's party with me. Warren Mitchell is the host. At the Mark Hopkins Hotel."
"Sounds like fun," Cole murmured. "What time should I pick you up?" The two friends proceeded to make arrangements for tomorrow night. Once they agreed upon their plans, the two friends hung up.
* * * *
A firm believer in being prompt, Cole appeared outside Olivia's apartment at exactly eight o'clock, the following evening. A large tan trenchcoat barely hid an immaculately well-tailored tuxedo. After he rang the doorbell, relief washed over him when Olivia answered the door.
The figure that stood in the doorway, took Cole's breath away. Literally. Beautiful seemed like an inadequate word to describe Olivia. She looked exquisite in a watered green silk gown with a halter top. A deep green Kashmir shawl barely covered her creamy shoulders. And tiny emerald earrings sparkled from her earlobes. Cole wanted to express how beautiful she looked. But fearful of seeming too appreciative or eager, he greeted his neighbor with, "Hey! You look very nice. But aren't you going to be a bit cold in that?"
Olivia sighed and rolled her eyes. "So much for making an appearance," she muttered. "Hold on." She disappeared for a few seconds and returned with an overcoat covering her gown. "Okay, let's go." She and Cole headed toward the elevator. As they reached their destination, Cole wondered if he had just made a big mistake.
* * * *
Twenty minutes later, Olivia and Cole entered the elegant ballroom, where the party was being held. They had just left a smaller room, where the guests left their coats and wraps. Balloons and streamers decorated the Peacock Court. A large silver and red banner that read "HAPPY NEW YEAR 2003" hung from the back wall, behind the bandstand. On the latter, a swing band performed one of many old tunes from the 1930s and 1940s. Olivia recognized "Night and Day" as she and Cole entered the room.
Elegantly dressed partygoers danced. Olivia spotted her parents in the middle of the dance floor, oblivious to the others around them. Her older brother, Bruce, and his fiancée, Barbara Bowen, were sampling food from one of the buffet tables. "Where's Harry?" Cole asked, referring to the McNeills' youngest family member.
Olivia replied, "He was invited to a party at P3, by Paige. I guess this might be a little too stodgy for him."
"Paige and Harry?" The idea seemed to be surprising to Cole. "You mean to say they're now dating? I had no idea."
"No, they're not involved. In fact, Harry took his own date to the club."
Cole nodded. "Oh."
Olivia continued, "Paige had also invited Bruce and me, but we had already received Warren Mitchell's invitation."
"Oh, I see. P3 isn't exactly your style," Cole murmured.
"I didn't say that."
Cole shot back, "You didn't have to. Besides, it was never really my style, either. Paige had also invited me, but I wasn't comfortable with the idea. I never liked the place and Phoebe might be there."
Naturally, Olivia thought sourly. She wondered if Cole would ever recover from his bitter divorce. Or his ex-wife. Instinct told her that idea seemed impossible.
Cole continued, "The only reason I had put up with P3 in the past was because of Phoebe and her sisters. I prefer jazz. Especially Latin jazz and swing."
"Really?" Olivia replied. "I might have preferred P3 some five to ten years ago. Personally, I think today's rock music is going down the drain."
A third voice added, "Typical Olivia. You always did have a dark view of the world. A true pessimist."
The two friends whirled around. Olivia nearly winced at the sight of the tuxedoed man who stood behind them. No one could deny that Cedric Lloyd was a handsome man. At slightly under six feet, he possessed thick chestnut hair styled in expensive haircut, deep gray eyes and chiseled features. Olivia had known him since her years at Stanford University, eleven years ago.
Fixing a too bright smile on her face, Olivia greeted her old classmate. "Cedric! How are you? It's been quite a while since we've seen each other."
"Ten months, to be exact," Cedric promptly replied.
A touch of spite crept into Olivia's smile. "Oh yes. The Stefan Kakov case. How is Mr. Kakov, by the way? Still enjoying prison?" Before Cedric could reply, Olivia continued, "Cedric was the defense attorney for Stefan Kakov. You know, the so-called 'businessman' from Prague. It turned out that Mr. Kakov was merely a front for local Russian gangsters."
Cedric's demeanor lost a bit of its friendliness. "You should be careful, Olivia. Or else you can end up being sued for slander."
"Slander?" Disbelief rang in Olivia's tone. "Cedric, your client was convicted on four counts of racketeering and one count of attempted murder."
The other man shot back, "It's only a temporary setback. I plan to file another appeal on his behalf. Just to let you know."
"I hope you don't plan to use the same argument you had used in your last appeal," Olivia retorted. She added to Cole, "I was one of the investigators in charge of the case. And a witness for the prosecution."
Cole added with a nod, "Oh yeah. I remember that case. Last February, right?"
Gray eyes turned to Cole. Cedric held out his hand. "I believe we haven't met. I'm Cedric Lloyd." To Olivia's surprise, Cole's brows shot upward. "And you are?"
"Cole Turner." He took Cedric's hand and shook it. "I'm with . . ."
Recognition lit up Cedric's eyes. "Oh yeah, with Jackman, Carter and Kline," he finished, to Olivia's surprise. "I've heard of you."
An ironic smile touched Cole's lips. "Not surprising, since we're on opposite sides of the Giovanni case. I'm representing Mark Giovanni. I guess we'll be seeing a lot of each other over the next few years."
Cedric responded with his own tight smile. "Well, that depends upon Mr. Giovanni. Hopefully, he'll be convinced to give up his claim on the property in question. Or perhaps his attorney will convince him." Calculation hardened his gray eyes. "I understand that you're divorced. And once married to Phoebe Halliwell. You know, from the 'Ask Phoebe' column for the BAY-MIRROR. What happened?"
For a moment, Olivia thought Cole would strike the other man dead. Or transform the latter into a ball of fire. The rage disappeared from Cole's eyes, only to be replaced by spite. "It's simple," he replied in his usual snarky tone, "we got divorced. Irreconcilable differences."
A snide Cedric shot back, "So did any of these irreconcilable differences have anything to do with your disappearance, last summer?"
A pause that seemed to last forever followed. Cole's eyes bored into Cedric. Long and hard. And the latter had the good sense to look uncomfortable. Then Cole responded with a chilly smile. "The answer to your question is no. My so-called . . . disappearance had nothing to do with my divorce. Anymore than your quiet little weekly 'lunches' with a certain Miss Kaye Ling, at the Carnahan Hotel in Room 1005, have anything to do with our case."
Cedric's face turned deathly pale behind the tan. An amused smile curved Olivia's lips. Apparently, Cole had learned a lot about Cedric's marriage to a certain San Francisco socialite. And his infidelities. "Is there something wrong, Cedric?" she asked. "You look a little . . . well, ill. Where's your wife, Marta? Is she around?" Olivia glanced around the ballroom.
"I think I . . . uh," Cedric glanced around nervously, "I better get going." He flashed the couple an insincere smile. "See you . . . later." Then he walked away. Quickly.
Both Olivia and Cole immediately broke into gales of laughter. Once it died down, Olivia said, "I'm sorry about what Cedric said to you. About Phoebe and last summer. You have to watch out for him. Cedric loves exploiting other people's weaknesses to get his way. Even when we knew each other in college. Mind you, I'm not above doing the same, myself."
Cole smiled and raised his hand. "Guilty as charged."
Olivia continued, "It's just that Cedric is one of those slimy little shits that really annoys me. You know what I mean, right?"
"Oh yeah." Cole's smile twisted into a grimace. "Troxa. Thankfully, he's been dead for the past two years."
Before Olivia could ask for details, the band commenced upon a rendition of an old disco tune called, "Ring My Bell". Olivia winced. She had never been a fan of the post-1977 Disco era. "Listen, are you hungry? It's either eat or dance to that piece of crap."
Cole nodded. "Let's eat." The pair headed toward the nearest buffet table. They observed the couples in the middle of the ballroom, dancing . . . or trying to dance to the disco tune. Cole shuddered. "Maybe we should skip the food for now. I don't know if my food will stay down after watching all that," he commented. Then he linked his arm with Olivia's and they continued toward the buffet table. "But I'll try."
* * * *
Despite the occasional bad tune, Cole managed to enjoy himself. The food, he had to admit, was superb. Thankfully, the band failed to follow up with another disco tune and returned to their old repertoire. Which gave Cole the opportunity to enjoy several dances with Olivia. As he danced with Olivia's mother, over an hour-and-a-half later, Cole was unaware that another unpleasant moment loomed ahead.
"Gwen darling! Gwen McNeill!" The screech came from an elegantly-dressed woman in her fifties, who seemed as if she had went on one crash diet too many. The newcomer interrupted the dancing couple, as she threw herself into Gwenneth McNeill's arms. "Darling! How are you?"
The Welsh-born woman responded to the other woman's greeting with a polite smile. "Vanessa, darling. How lovely to see you. May I introduce you to a friend of the family? He's an attorney for Jackman, Carter and Kline. Cole, this is Vanessa Probst. Her husband, Albert, owns, or should I say . . . 'is' Sewell Industries. Vanessa dear, this is Cole Turner."
Bright pale eyes appraised Cole with interest. "Oh my dear, I've already met Mr. Turner."
"You have?" Cole frowned. He did not recall meeting this dark-haired, anorexic-looking woman before.
Mrs. Probst continued, "Oh yes. At Adam Flannery's ball in late September. He had hired Mr. Turner's firm to look into purchasing the BAY-MIRROR. However, I hear that Jason Dean is now considering it."
Adam Flannery's ball. Cole recalled the handsome millionaire, whom an evil witch had cast a spell over, last fall. Flannery had also been genuinely attracted to Phoebe. In an effort to win his ex-wife's trust, Cole had encouraged her to date the millionaire. Needless to say, his efforts and Phoebe's interest in Adam had met a dead end.
Giving Mrs. Probst a polite smile, Cole replied, "Ah yes, now I remember you, Mrs. Probst. You wearing this stunning . . ."
"Silver gown with the halter top," the socialite finished.
Cole's smile widened. "Yes." His eyes swept appreciatively over her figure, causing the older woman to blush. "And you look even lovelier, tonight."
Mrs. Probst turned to the other woman. "So, Mr. Turner is a friend of the family?" She hungrily eyed Cole, making him feel uncomfortable. "Or Olivia's friend? I saw them dancing together. Several times." A knowing smile stretched her thin lips even further.
Cole quietly . . . and politely replied, "We're just friends. Olivia and I. Neighbors."
The socialite glanced at Mrs. McNeill. Who confirmed Cole's words with a nod. "Oh. Well, my mistake. I had thought that Olivia had finally put Richard behind her, after a year." Mrs. Probst failed to noticed the wince on the other woman's face. "Mind you, I don't blame dear Olivia. She and Richard were . . . well, you remember how they were like, together. Right, Gwen darling?"
Looking as if she wanted to sink in the nearest hole and die, Olivia's mother murmured, "Oh yes."
"So perfect," Mrs. Probst continued. "Richard was perfect for Olivia. Rather like some golden couple. I understand he was a reporter for the BAY-MIRROR or some other paper. I don't know much about his father's family, but his mother was one of the Marshalls. I even remember the night they had first met . . ."
Mrs. McNeill interrupted in a sharp, yet sweet tone, "Vanessa dear, we'd love to continue this conversation, but Cole and I have a dance to finish. If you please."
A red flush crept across the socialite's thin emaciated countenance. "Oh. Yes, of course. I'm so sorry." Mrs. Probst smiled. "Perhaps I'll see you later, Mr. Turner?"
Cole opened his mouth, unable to answer. He turned to Mrs. McNeill for help, who promptly replied, "Perhaps dear. Cole still has a few more partners on his dance card, this evening. Including two with me. Excuse us." To Cole's relief, Mrs. McNeill steered him away from the socialite, who merely gaped at the departing couple.
"Sorry about that," Mrs. McNeill quietly continued, "but that's Vanessa Probst for you. She does tend to ramble on. And sometimes I swear that she considers herself to be San Francisco's unofficial gossip."
Cole smiled. "Don't worry. She didn't bother me at all." It was a lie, of course. Although Vanessa Probst had struck him as an irritating woman, her recollections of Olivia and Richard Bannen had ignited a jealousy he had considered non-existent.
Come to think of it, the last time Olivia had mentioned her former fiancé/warlock-lover, Cole felt a jolt of envy. Much to his surprise. It seemed ridiculous, of course. Why should he feel jealous over a man he had never met? Well, that was incorrect. Cole had met Richard Bannen, twice. The first time had happened around the time he was assigned to kill the Charmed Ones. And during the second time, he had been on the run from demonic bounty hunters. And Richard was fleeing vengeful members of the Bannen warlock coven. Both demon and warlock had betrayed their alliances for the love of a witch. The pair met for a brief period to help each other elude their pursuers in another dimension.
Cole had long accepted that he would always love Phoebe, despite their divorce. And that Olivia will never stop mourning Richard, who had been killed by her emotionally disturbed aunt. Yet, Cole found himself experiencing waves of jealousy when Vanessa Probst rambled on about Olivia and Richard. Nor did he understand why. Actually, a small part of his mind knew why, but Cole refused to confront his feelings.
Green eyes that strongly reminded Cole of Olivia, bored into his. "Are you sure?" she asked in response to his comment about Mrs. Probst. "You seemed a little . . . I mean, when Vanessa began talking about Olivia and Richard, you seemed . . . upset."
Cole gave the red-haired woman a reassuring smile. "Of course. Why would I be upset?"
Gwen McNeill continued to stare at him. "Only you can answer that question, Cole," she answered cryptically.
Not saying a word, Cole found himself wishing he had never met Vanessa Probst. Or that she had never opened her big, fat mouth.
* * * *
The clock on the east wall read ten twenty-five. Another ninety-five minutes would usher in the New Year - 2003. And Olivia had no one to celebrate with . . . in the traditional fashion.
There was Cole, her escort for tonight. But one did not kiss one's neighbor and close friend. Especially if one wanted to preserve that friendship. Olivia could only think of one other person with whom she could exchange a New Year's kiss. If only Cedric Lloyd was not married . . . and repulsive. Otherwise . . .
"Well, well! Look who's alone at last!" Olivia winced, as none other than Cedric sidled up to her side, near one of the buffet tables. "So, where's your boon companion, Turner?"
Olivia coolly nodded toward the dance floor. "Over there, with Carol Bessin. Why do you ask?"
"I wanted to make sure that you were alone," Cedric replied in a voice that seemed to ooze honey. "So that no one would interrupt us."
Shooting her former classmate a dark look, Olivia added, "When you meant by 'no one', did you mean your wife?" She reached for a sliver of quiche.
A too hearty bout of laughter escaped Cedric's mouth. "You . . . you haven't changed much, you know that, McNeill?"
"Unfortunately, I can say the same about you."
Cedric stepped closer, invading Olivia's personal space. She could feel his hot breath on the back of her neck. "Look, why don't we take a break from all of this," he nodded at the partygoers, "and share a private drink, together. Alone."
Goddess! Olivia heaved a sigh. She dropped a cherry tomato on her plate. "Cedric, please don't. Just don't. I wasn't interested in you, twelve years ago. Nor was I interested in you, ten months ago, and I'm certainly not interested in you, now. One, you're married. Two, I don't like you, and three . . ."
A sneer marred Cedric's handsome face as he finished, "Three, you're holding out for Cole Turner. Am I right? Unless, you've allowed him to sample a bit, already."
Olivia glared at him. "No, I haven't," she shot back, pointedly. "Nor do I intend to. Cole and I are friends and nothing more."
"Friends, huh?" Cedric's sneer grew wider. "It's just as well. I've met the former Mrs. Turner at a party, recently. Let's just say that she would be a hard act to follow."
The other man's words proved to be the last straw for Olivia. She fixed Cedric with a glare that would have eviscerated the Source. It certainly convinced the attorney to take a few backward steps. "You know something, Cedric? Your chances of getting into my pants just went from impossible to ground zero," she said in a deadly voice. "Now, I suggest that you leave me the hell alone."
Cedric's face turned dead white. "Hey, Olivia! C'mon! I didn't mean . . . uh, what I meant to say was . . ."
"I know exactly what you were trying to say." Olivia's death glare remained. "And I suggest that you keep your mouth shut before you say anything further."
"I didn't mean to upset you. It's just that a friend of mine from the BAY-MIRROR had heard about . . ."
Olivia interrupted, "If you're trying to warn me about Cole, don't bother. In fact, you're the one who needs a little warning."
Cedric's fearful expression disappeared, only to be replaced by one of wariness. "Meaning?" he demanded.
"Meaning, when you and Cole fight it out over this Giovanni case, I would suggest that for once in your life, try to fight fair. If you don't you'll only end up burned."
A derisive snort escaped Cedric's mouth. "Look who's talking!" he shot back, his sneer firmly back in place. "If I remembered correctly, you were quite the little manipulator back in college. And now look at you! Little Miss Do Gooder! It's not your style, McNeill, so why don't you give it a break!"
"So I'm a hypocrite! So sue me!" Olivia snapped back. "I know I'm not above manipulating someone, but at least I try to realize when the moment calls for a little manipulation. You seemed so determined to get the best of Cole before the case can get into full swing."
A belligerent Cedric retorted, "I'm merely trying to stay ahead of the game, sweetheart. Something you would have understood if you had decided to become an attorney, instead of a cop. I want to win this case. And as for your precious Mr. Turner, I think I can handle him."
Olivia rolled her eyes in disgust. She had forgotten how an intelligent man like Cedric could be so damn stupid. "Oh you can? All you've done is questioned Cole's whereabouts from last summer. It's only been over a week since he was given this case, and already he knows that you're cheating on Marta with a Miss Kaye Ling, at the Carnahan Hotel. In Room 1005, I may add." Amazing how she remembered all that. "You do know what Cole was doing, right? He was giving you a fair warning to play it straight. And when it comes to manipulation, Cedric, we're rank amateurs compare to him. I suggest that you take my advice."
The stubborn gleam in Cedric's eyes told Olivia that he had no intention of following her advice. Figures! She heaved another sigh and placed two canapés on her plate. "I've had enough of this. See you later, Cedric," she drawled. "Hopefully we won't set eyes upon each other for quite a while." Olivia started to walk away.
"Hey! Where are you going?" Cedric demanded.
Olivia paused. "To find a place to sit and eat." She turned around to give him one last pointed look. "Alone." Then she finally walked away, ignoring her companion's abashed expression.
* * * *
Eleven fifty-four. At least that was the time shown on the ballroom's clock. Cole's eyes scanned the room. There seemed to be no sign of Olivia anywhere. He had spotted other members of the McNeill family . . . but no Olivia.
'Why is it so important to you that you find her?' The question reverberated inside Cole's mind, over and over again. He saw other couples forming, staring at the clock and waiting for the moment when they could celebrate the New Year in traditional fashion. Was that the reason why he seemed so determined to find . . .?
"Hey! Ready for the New Year?" A female's voice filled Cole's ears. He spun around and found Olivia standing behind him.
Cole managed to keep the relief out of his smile. "Hey, yourself. Enjoying the party?"
One of Olivia's red brows quirked upward. "Well, other than an unpleasant encounter with Cedric Lloyd and dances with both Connor Maxwell and David Levin - both lousy dancers, by the way - it's been great. What about you?"
"Great." Cole paused momentarily. "So, you had an unpleasant encounter with Lloyd?"
Olivia shook her head. "It's nothing I couldn't handle. Just another one of Cedric's dumb come-ons. I've been getting them since college."
Cole's mouth twisted into a wry smile. "At least you didn't have an encounter with one Mrs. Vanessa Probst, this evening. Or did you?"
"Oh dear God!" Green eyes widened in mock horror. "You poor man! Vanessa Probst? And you still have your sanity intact?"
"It was pretty damn close. But I managed." Cole glanced at the clock. "Huh, it's almost midnight. In less than two minutes."
Cobalt blue eyes met green ones. The unmistakable air of heat seemed to sizzle between the pair. The feeling took Cole by surprise. Never had he imagined that he would experience such feelings with a woman other than . . . well, Phoebe. It was impossible. After all, he felt no love toward Olivia, other than as a friend . . .
"Ladies and gentlemen!" a voice boomed across the ballroom. It belonged to the party's host, Warren Mitchell. Cole and Olivia tore their eyes away from each other and stared at Mitchell, who stood on the bandstand. "In less than . . . twenty-five seconds, 2003 will arrive. Time for the countdown!"
All eyes focused upon the clock on the wall. When the second hand struck ten, the countdown began. "TEN . . . NINE . . . EIGHT . . ." Again, Cole began to contemplate his actions once 2003 arrives. Should he kiss Olivia? Shake her hand? ". . . FOUR . . . THREE . . . TWO . . . ONE!" Then everyone shouted, "HAPPY NEW YEAR!"
As the band commenced on "Auld Lang Syne", couples began to kiss. Both Cole and Olivia faced each other awkwardly. For a moment. Then they stepped forward. Again, doubt overwhelmed Cole. Should he kiss her? Would a peck on the cheek hurt? After a moment's contemplation, Cole decided that it would not. He leaned forward to kiss Olivia's cheek.
". . . never brought to mind. Should auld acquaintance be forgot? And days of Auld Lang Syne!"
A slight moan escaped from Olivia's mouth, as Cole's lips left her cheek. He stared at her expression - blissful with eyes closed shut - and his heart turned a somersault. "Oh hell!" he murmured. Olivia's eyes flew opened in surprise. Before she could say or do anything, Cole gathered her into his arms and kissed her. Long and hard.
". . . days of Auld Lang Syne. Should auld acquaintance be forgot . . ."
Her lips felt warm, soft and welcoming. It seemed to Cole as if the world around him and Olivia had ceased to exist. He gave her lower lip a slight nip before slipping his tongue into her mouth.
"For Auld Lang Syne, my dear. For Auld Lang Syne!"
While their tongues explored each other's mouths, every nerve in Cole's body tingled with passion and delight. 'This is wrong, Turner. Wrong! She's your neighbor, for God's sake! You're not in love with her.' Slender fingers slid through Cole's hair, causing the temperature in his body to rise. Olivia's soft body pressed against his. That, along with the wet warmth of her mouth, left his body feeling so hard that it ached.
'End it now, Turner! Now! Remember Phoebe! The love of your life!' Images of his ex-wife popped into Cole's head. But it did not help. Olivia's kiss grew harder and more insistent and Phoebe's image immediately disappeared.
"Should auld acquaintance be forgot and the days of Auld Lang Syne! HAPPY NEW YEAR!" Cheers and whistles filled the ballroom. Cole realized that he should end the kiss now, but he found himself longing for a private hotel room, where he could enjoy a few private hours with Olivia. Enjoy more kisses, strip the gown from her body; explore the latter with his mouth and hands; lower her onto a bed and . . .
'Goddamit Turner! Stop! Release her, now!' Aware that the moment for kisses had finally passed, Cole immediately broke the kiss and cried out, "No!" He jerked away from Olivia's embrace. The two neighbors stared at each other with stunned eyes. At least Cole felt stunned. Horrified, actually. Did he just . . . ? As much as his mind tried to reject it, he knew what he had done. Kissed his neighbor with the full-blown passion of an ardent lover. Christ! What the hell had he been thinking?
"Uh . . . Shit! I didn't mean . . . uh . . ." In one of those rare moments, Cole found himself speechless. "Olivia, I didn't mean . . ."
An icy mist glazed over Olivia's green eyes. "Yeah, I'm sure that you didn't." She looked disappointed. Almost angry. "Looks like the bar's open, again," she said with a sigh. "Thank God, because I really need a drink." She started to turn away.
Cole called after her. "Olivia! Maybe we should . . . should talk about what just happened."
"What is there to talk about?" Olivia retorted. Anger radiated from her eyes. Real, genuine anger. "It's the New Year and we kissed like everyone else. End of story. Nothing to get excited over." Another sigh left her mouth. "Now, I really need that drink." Before she walked away, Olivia added, "By the way, you don't have to take me home, tonight. I'll just leave with my family."
Cole replied, "I don't mind taking you home."
A cool smile touched Olivia's lips. "But I do. I'll see you later." She walked away, leaving behind a confused and devastated half-daemon in her wake.
THE END
"I, STEATH"
CODE: Steth, Paris, Crew, & a little P/T
RATING: PG
E-MAIL: cancerjones1941@yahoo.com
FEEDBACK: It would be nice to receive some. Please, no flames.
SUMMARY: Steth finally talks back about which alien was really responsible for the events in "Vis-à-Vis".
DISCLAIMER: Sigh! All characters and etc. pertaining to Star Trek Voyager belongs to Paramount, Viacom and . . . well, you know who.
NOTE: After reading tons of stories and codas, blaming Steth for the havoc caused in "Vis-à-Vis", I had to write this story. Just to get the facts straight. By the way, Steth's observations of B'Elanna are my observations of her at the end of the episode. For a woman who may have realized she slept with an alien impersonating her boyfriend, she seemed very unconcerned about it.
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"I, STETH"
". . . taken over by Steth, that DNA snatching alien . . ."
". . . that creep Steth take over Tom's body . . ."
"Steth took over Tom's body sometime after he left the messhall. . ."
* * * *
Enough! That is it! I have had enough of these scurrilous attacks upon my character! It is time to tell the truth!
At this moment, I am sure many of you are wondering who I am and what I am talking about. Well, I'll tell you. My name is Steth. Now wait a minute! Back down! There's no need to send a lynch mob after me! I'm not who you think I am. I mean . . . my name is Steth, but . . . Sigh! Let me start again.
My name is Steth. I am a pilot from the Benthan system, somewhere in the Delta Quadrant. I have been receiving some interesting subspace transmissions from another star system. These transmissions came in the form of literature or what is called fan fiction stories. Anyway, these stories have accused me of creating havoc aboard a starship from the Alpha Quadrant I had encountered several years ago, called the U.S.S. Voyager. I am here to correct these misconceptions of my character and reveal the truths behind that event.
Apparently, many believe I am the alien who had encountered VOYAGER, requesting help to repair my ship. It seems after becoming acquainted with VOYAGER's crew and its Chief Pilot; I allegedly traded my DNA with this Tom Paris, before rendering him unconscious. I supposedly then sent Lieutenant Paris away on my ship and proceeded to take his place on VOYAGER - including his positions and his woman, a Human/Klingon hybrid named B'Elanna Torres. I have even been accused of tricking this B'Elanna into having sex with her, consuming non-regulation alcohol, threatening VOYAGER's Borg crewman and stealing the body of the ship's captain, Kathryn Janeway.
All of these accusations are false! I didn't do a damn thing! Pardon my language. I meant that I am completely innocent of these charges. And quite frankly, I am sick and tired of these fan fiction stories that blame me for what happened on VOYAGER. The following is a TRUE account of what really happened.
Several days before my encounter with Lieutenant Paris and VOYAGER, I was testing a new, state-of-the-art shuttle I had designed. I came across a beautiful female alien named Daelen. She claimed that her ship needed repairs and requested my assistance. Since I am fully trained not only as a pilot, but also in starship design, I offered my help. Before I knew what happened, Daelen . . . that creature . . . sigh! Anyway, in a blink of an eye, she managed to assume my form and steal my ship, leaving me with her body and a trash heap badly in need of repair. This is what I get for being a gentleman.
Daelen, now disguised as me, must have encountered VOYAGER at least a few days later. She . . . uh, he . . . Sigh! Since the alien was now in my body, I'll refer to it as he/she. Anyway, the scoundrel introduced him/herself as Steth. Me. From what I had later discovered, he/she proceeded to befriend this Lieutenant Tom Paris of the Federation, before committing another act of theft. Daelen/Steth was now Daelen/Steth/Paris. And the poor lieutenant found himself stuck with my body.
After Daelen sent the real Paris away from VOYAGER in my ship, he/she proceeded to take over the pilot's life. He became VOYAGER's chief pilot and medical assistant. He/she also assumed Tom Paris' love life. Whether he/she and the ship's chief engineer actually had sex is mere conjecture. When I finally met Chief Torres, she seemed unconcerned with the possibility of a romantic liaison with the imposter. She seemed more concerned with Tom Paris' health and mental state. No one really knows, aside from Daelen and Chief Torres. Yet, these fan fiction writers have assumed the worst.
Meanwhile, imagine my surprise in encountering my body again! It happened two days after being abandoned by Daelen. I was quite prepared to demand my body back, until I discovered that the Human, Tom Paris now possessed it. After he convinced me of his real identity, I introduced myself as the real Steth, former victim of that body thief, Daelen. Both Tom Paris and I decided that the only way to recover our rightful bodies was to confront Daelen. It was not long before we plotted a course for VOYAGER.
True to character, Daelen became bored with Tom Paris' life and placed his/her sights upon another body - namely the one that belonged to Captain Janeway, VOYAGER's commander. He/she succeeded on the second attempt, stole a shuttle and proceeded to make his/her escape. Fortunately, Tom and I arrived in time to stop him/her.
All of us - myself, Tom Paris and Captain Janeway recovered our real bodies, thanks to the ship's holographic medical officer. Daelen was also returned to his/her body. However, I did inform Captain Janeway that the body of Daelen might be another stolen identity. And that the real Daelen might be stuck in either the thief's real body or one belonging to another victim. The best I could do is return Daelen's body back to the Benthan system. I decided to return this body to the authorities and let them deal with the confusion.
Well, that's it. That is my full and accurate account of my encounters with the DNA thief, Tom Paris and the VOYAGER crew. Hopefully everyone, especially these fan fiction writers, will finally realize that I, Steth, was not the DNA thief. Instead, I was another victim, just like Tom Paris, Captain Janeway and possibly even the real Daelen. I only hope that there will be no future accounts, accusing me of being that . . . that vile creature. If I do receive any in the future, I promise that I will sue. With extreme prejudice. Good day to you all.
THE END
”LOST” - Kate Austen and Character Development
In a review of the ”LOST” Season Four episode, "Eggtown" (4.04), someone named Entil made a curious comment about Kate Austen's character development. Entil said the following:
"Unfortunately, the focus on Kate and her supposed "mysterious" personality is a letdown. As luminous as the actress can be, the writers have spent more than three seasons on the character with little or no progress. Considering how many of the other prominent characters have been given substantial growth, Kate seemed stunted in comparison.I am aware of the numerous complaints about Kate Austen's lack of growth and how her personality seemed to be wrapped around her choice between Jack Shephard and James "Sawyer" Ford as possible love interests. In fact, I have complained about it during the past two years. Aside from acting as occasional action girl in episodes like Season 2’s ”Maternity Leave”, Kate’s character seemed to revolved around Jack or Sawyer. Skate vs. Jate. And the sad thing is that the producers of ”LOST” seemed to have no intention of ending ”the love triangle from hell”. The reviewer, Entil, also discussed the questionable circumstances surrounding her guardianship of Aaron in the future:
"Whatever the case, Aaron is meant to be a part of Kate's overall redemption, or at least the most glaring opportunity. That plays into her agreement not to leave the state during her ten years of probation. She doesn't take full responsibility for her actions, but she does take a step in the right direction. It's unfortunate that this step is connected to decisions on the island that directly contradict any semblance of growth."
Frankly, I am a little confused on whether Kate's guardianship if Aaron is any proof of her growth as a character or merely an opportunity to avoid incarceration in prison. But overall, I cannot help but wonder if Kate is meant to represent something else. Considering that she is the only character that has remained completely stagnated after four seasons of ”LOST”, I cannot help but wonder if this is her fate. Is Kate being deliberately set up to be the only character that will face a dark future, due to an inability to grow as a character?
Here are some icons centered around fan support for a Season Three for CBS's "JERICHO":
"REVELATIONS"
PART 4
Cole stared at the thick file sitting on the glass table, in front of the sofa. And cringed out of sheer dismay.
What the hell had he been thinking? Why had he insisted upon accepting that ridiculously complicated case? Cole's employers had given him the perfect opportunity to avoid the case. Yet, he accepted it anyway. A land dispute between a wealthy winegrower and a corporation. Cole's firm represented the former.
The case promised to last several years in a series of lawsuits; counter-lawsuits and God only knew what other kinds of litigation. Cole sighed. He should have accepted Jackman's offer to hand the case to someone else. Grateful for Cole's successful handling of a pro bono case that involved the preservation of a community-based housing project. Since the successful verdict had reflected a positive light upon the firm's reputation, the senior partners decided to give Cole the chance to avoid the Giovanni case. And rather stupidly, he accepted the case anyway. All because he wanted to remain on the partners' good side. Damn idiot!
Angry with himself, Cole plopped down on the sofa and sighed. Hard. He needed a drink. A good martini with an onion. Only one person he knew made a first-rate Gibson. Cole glanced at the clock on the wall. Six-fifteen. Both Olivia and Cecile should be home, by now. The file caught his attention, again. At the moment, Cole felt more interested in a pre-dinner drink with Olivia . . . and Cecile, than a case doomed to last for . . .
The doorbell rang. Cole's mood brightened. He strode toward the door and glanced through the peephole. A surprise greeted his eyes. It was Paige. Now what in the hell did she want? Cole reluctantly opened the door. "Paige. What . . . what are you doing here? Is there something wrong?"
A nervous smile stretched Paige's mouth. "No. Well, in a way. May I come in?"
"Sure," Cole mumbled. He opened the door wide, allowing the young witch to enter.
Paige glanced around the penthouse. "So, long time, no see."
"Twelve days is your idea of a long time?" Cole shot back in his usual sardonic manner. "I mean I realize that we barely exchanged a word the last time we saw each other . . ."
Guilt flashed across Paige's face. Guilt? From Paige? What had happened to her? "What's wrong?" Cole asked for the second time. "Is . . . is Phoebe okay?"
"Phoebe?" Paige hesitated. "Well physically, yeah. But I think she's mad . . . Actually, I don't know if she's mad or not. Piper definitely is."
Cole frowned. "Piper mad at you? Why? What's this all about?"
Instead of answering Cole's questions, Paige asked if she could sit down. Cole led her to the sofa. He sat down in the opposite chair. "Okay," she continued, "how do I begin?" Paige paused dramatically. She took a deep breath and then, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for what I did to you. For what all of us did to you. And I hope that you can forgive me."
Cole stared at his former sister-in-law, wondering if she had lost her mind. "Uh, what exactly are you apologizing for?"
Paige closed her eyes and sighed. "God, this is hard! I want to apologize for a lot of things, I guess. For believing that you had deliberately chosen to become the Source, when you were really possessed. For kil . . . uh, vanquishing you, when we should have tried to save you. And for . . . well, for encouraging Phoebe to stay away from you, when both of you really needed to talk." Her dark eyes pleaded with Cole. "What I'm trying to say is that I'm sorry for treating you like dirt, when you really needed a friend."
Cole remained silent. His emotions now in turmoil, he merely continued to stare at Paige. He did not know whether to feel relieved that a Charmed One had finally believed what really happened to him. Or angry, because of what he had endured for nearly a year before hearing so much as a kind word from a Halliwell.
The long pause continued. Paige's face now expressed concern. Uneasiness. "Uh, Cole? Did you hear what I just said? I had apologized for treating you so . . ."
"Yeah, I heard!" Cole growled. Anger had won. The half-daemon struggled to keep his emotions in check. He added in a tight voice. "And I forgive you."
Another pause. "Oh. Well, uh are you sure? You seem a little . . . I don't know. Pissed?"
It seemed a miracle to Cole that he did not incinerate his former sister-in-law at that moment with an energy or fireball. She was criticizing him for being pissed? Especially when he had every right to be? Instead of resorting to violence, Cole curled his lips into a sneer and retorted, "How perceptive of you! I forgot about those extra sensory powers of yours! Can you sense what I'm thinking right now?" He gave her a hard stare.
Paige's dark eyes grew wide. She literally wilted before him. "Get out?" she murmured.
Cole walked over to the door and opened it. "Good guess!"
"Cole, let me explain," Paige began. "I didn't mean . . ."
"Look, you've already apologized. I've accepted it. And I don't think we have anything further to say. Good-bye, Paige."
Paige shot him one last pleading glance. Her shoulders slumped with defeat, as she strode out of the penthouse. Cole slammed the door behind her, leaned against it, closed his eyes and heaved a large sigh.
* * * *
A half hour later, Paige returned to the manor on Prescott Street, where she found the living room empty. Sounds from a television seemed to drift from the kitchen. When Paige entered, she found Leo sitting by the table - watching TV and eating dinner. "Where's Piper and Paige?" she asked her brother-in-law.
Leo glanced up. "At P3. Someone had hired Piper to hold a private party there. Remember? Phoebe went to help."
"Oh God! I forgot. The Garner Christmas party." Paige sighed. "I was supposed to help Piper, but I guess I got side-tracked."
Something close to a smirk twisted Leo's lips. "I'm not surprised. Cole does have a talent for distracting others."
Paige stared at the whitelighter. Hard. "Why do we always do that?"
"Do what?" he asked.
A sigh left Paige's mouth. "Use Cole as a scapegoat for our troubles. I mean we had blamed him for Phoebe's problems with her powers. We blamed him for our troubles with the Source. Well, in a way, he was partly to blame, since he let the Seer trick him into using the Hol . . ."
Frowning, Leo interrupted. "Are we going to go through that, again?"
"Leo! We can't deny what Cecile and I saw. I don't know about you, but I'm tired of sticking my head in the ground like some ostrich." An odd expression appeared on Leo's face. It seemed to Paige that he could not make up his mind on whether to accept the truth, or not. "C'mon Leo! Don't tell me that you're changing your mind. Not after you had admitted that we might have been wrong about Cole."
Leo sighed. "No, I'm not. In fact, I'm beginning to suspect that you and Olivia are right about Cole being possessed by the Source. But that doesn't mean that Cole isn't dangerous. He is, you know. Especially with those new powers of his."
Paige hung her head low. Despite her new knowledge of what happened last year, not even she could deny the truth about Cole's new powers. They were dangerous. "I know," she murmured. "But like Piper said, he's the only one who can control them." Her voice grew louder. "But if that's true, why did you and Piper decided to help Tyler, last year? And just two months ago, Piper told me that the only difference between us and those we fight were our compassion, not our powers."
Leo's mouth hung open, but not a sound came out. Paige peered closely at him. "Leo? Are you okay?"
The whitelighter sighed. "Yeah. I . . . Look, I don't know what to think about Cole, Paige. I just . . . I don't know. I guess I just don't trust him. People change, yes. But that much and not as fast as you might think."
"You know, it's funny. When I first met Cole, I liked him a lot." Paige eased into one of the kitchen chairs. Recalling her early weeks as a Charmed One, she continued, "He seemed to be the only one who understood my twisted sense of humor. But when I found out that he was the same Belthazor who tried to kill Phoebe and Piper a year earlier," she frowned, "I guess I let my fears and prejudice change my opinion." Paige paused. "Maybe I shouldn't have let that happened. I don't know. I guess it's too late, because Cole doesn't want to talk to me, now."
Silence enveloped the kitchen. His face turning red, Leo glanced away. Paige sensed that he was becoming uncomfortable in her presence. "Well," she stood up, "I guess I better get to my room. It's been a long day."
Leo glanced at her and asked, "What about dinner? Piper left something in the oven for you."
Paige shrugged. "Maybe later. I'm too tired, right now." She started toward the doorway, when Leo called out her name. "What?" she asked.
"What about P3? Are you going to join Piper and Phoebe, to help?"
A smirk lifted the corners of Paige's mouth. "Somehow, I don't think either of them will feel comfortable with me hanging around, tonight. Do you?" When Leo failed to answer, Paige let out a sigh. It looked as if she was about to resume her position as the family's black sheep, again. Oh well. She had survived it once. She could do it again.
* * * *
"Are you sure you don't want to stay a little longer?" Olivia directed her question to her best friend.
Two large travel bags, along with a large shopping bag, stood in the middle of Olivia's living room. Today marked Cecile Dubois' last morning in San Francisco. She was due to board an eastbound plane for New Orleans in less than an hour. Cecile gave the red-haired woman a pitying look. "Oh honey! I'd love to stay, but it's time for me to go. I've already got a chance to celebrate the beginning of Winter Solace with the rest of you. Plus, it's three days until Christmas. I have a family and boyfriend to celebrate with." She glanced down at her belongings. "If only I didn't have to lug all this damn stuff around."
Cole stepped forward. "I'd be happy to give you and your stuff a lift," he suggested. "Right to your living room in New Orleans."
Cecile sighed. "You know, that would be just lovely. But I have a return ticket and it's gonna look real odd cashing it in New Orleans."
Olivia said, "Why don't you . . .?" A knock at the door interrupted her question. She walked over and peered through the peephole. "Oh! Paige."
Cole stiffened at the mention of his former sister-in-law's name. He had not spoken to her since her little revelation, three days ago. They had spotted each other at Sunday's Winter Solstice celebration. Only Cole went out of his way to avoid her.
What could he say? That he found it difficult to forgive Paige for his miseries of the past year? Hell, what had she expected? That he would be so grateful that one Halliwell seemed willing to acknowledge the misunderstandings that led to his vanquish, four months in the Wasteland and the end of his relationship with Phoebe? Did she really believe that one little apology would make him forget all that he had endured? Cole wrestled with the resentment that boiled within him. As Olivia opened the door, his face assumed a cool mask.
The youngest Halliwell stepped inside the apartment, wearing a nervous smile. "Hi!" she greeted. Her eyes glanced at Cole, who looked away. "I . . . uh, I thought I come by to say good-bye. To Cecile."
"Well thank you, cherie!" the New Orleans woman replied brightly. "I'm glad you came. Cole was about to take me home."
Olivia added, "But you need to cash in your ticket, first."
"Isn't it too late for that?" Paige asked. "I mean after all, today is your actual flight day."
Paige's words were met with defeated sighs. "So much for a quick trip home," Cecile bemoaned. She glanced at her watch. "And I now have less than forty-five minutes until my plane leaves."
"I can still give you a lift to the airport," Cole insisted.
Cecile nodded. "Okay. At least I can avoid a cab." The Vodoun priestess faced the two witches. She grabbed hold of Paige's hand and shook it. "You know, I've never met anyone who has been so interested in Vodoun as you, these past few days." Paige smiled. "Well, except for Livy, over here."
"Yeah, I'm gonna miss you too," Paige responded.
After Cecile released the Charmed One's hand, she turned to the other witch. The long-time friends enveloped each other with a bear hug. "I'll get in touch with you soon, cherie," Cecile said. "As soon as I get home. And thanks for the last three weeks. It's been . . ." she released Olivia and smiled, "very interesting, to say the least."
Olivia threw back her head and laughed. "You always say that whenever you visit. But then life with us McNeills can be very interesting."
"A little too interesting," Cole murmured. Fortunately, the others did not hear.
Olivia gave her friend one last hug. "You take care of yourself, Cecile. And tell Andre and your family, Merry Christmas for me."
Cole picked up Cecile's luggage. "Ready?" he asked.
Cecile nodded and picked up her shopping bag. "Yeah, let's go." She grabbed hold of his arm with her free hand and pair disappeared.
Seconds later, they reappeared in a deserted hallway, inside the airport terminal. "Here we are," Cole announced. "Delta Airlines, right?"
"Yeah." Cecile and Cole walked along the hallway, until they merged with the heavy crowd that filled the main terminal. The pair made their way to the Delta Airlines desk, where Cecile retrieved her boarding pass and checked her luggage. "Okay," she said, facing Cole. "That's it."
"You want me to hang around until you board?"
Cecile shook her head. "It's not necessary. I should be boarding in fifteen minutes or so. After that, I've got another twenty minutes until the plane takes off."
Smiling, Cole offered his hand. "Well, I guess this is it."
"Yeah." Cecile hesitated, arousing Cole's curiosity. "Listen Cole, before you leave, can I ask you something?"
"What?"
Dark eyes bored into his. "Have you spoken with Paige since Friday?"
"How did you . . .?"
Cecile spoke up. "She came to me, Friday morning. Asking me to help her find out what really happened to you, nearly a year ago."
Wariness crept into Cole's composure. "And why did she need your help?"
"She had figured that I'd be able to summon a vision from your past." Cecile paused, and glanced away. "And I did. From your . . . penthouse. I'm sorry."
Outrage and anger replaced Cole's wariness. "You . . . you were inside . . ." Realizing that he could be heard, Cole lowered his voice. "You and Paige were inside my apartment?" he hissed in a deadly whisper.
Cecile shrugged helplessly. "I'm sorry, but Paige beamed or transported me over there before I could say anything."
"Orbed," Cole muttered darkly.
"Look, I realize that you're already pissed at her . . ." Cole's eyes narrowed as Cecile continued, "but Paige thought we needed something of yours so I could get a vision. Actually, your . . . um, spirit or essence inside the penthouse was just fine. Especially from the spot where . . . you know, they killed you." While Cole's gaze remained unrelenting, Cecile added, "Look, I'm sorry for breaking into your place like that. I didn't mean to. Honestly."
Realizing that no harm had come from Cecile's actions, the anger passed and Cole accepted her apology. "It's okay," he said with a reassuring smile. "I guess you meant well."
"Thanks," Cecile replied. "But why are you so willing to forgive me? And not Paige?"
Oh God! Cole rolled his eyes. The last thing he wanted was to talk about Paige or any other Halliwell. Her confession had only ignited anger long suppressed for the past three months. "What the hell are you talking about?" he demanded. "I forgave her."
Cecile sighed. "Yeah. That was pretty obvious, yesterday. Especially since you spent most of the day trying to ignore her," she said sarcastically.
"Look . . ."
"No, you look," Cecile snapped back. "I can't order you to forgive Paige for what she and her sisters did to you. But do you really want to be like them? So unforgiving? Is it really worth it, especially since Paige is genuinely sorry for what she had done?"
Cecile's words hit Cole with the force of an energy ball. He imagined himself becoming like the Halliwells - unforgiving, quick to judge and self-righteous. And the image repelled him. Cole stared directly into Cecile's eyes . . . and his lips curved into a disarming smile. "I guess not," he finally said.
"No, it's not," Cecile replied softly, her own lips smiling. Then she glanced toward the direction of the boarding lounge. So did Cole. "I guess it's time for me to leave." She took the half-daemon by surprise and gave him a tight hug. "You probably don't believe this, but Olivia is pretty lucky to have you as a friend."
Cole replied, "She's lucky to have you. Andre's pretty lucky, too."
"I'll remind him."
The pair broke into soft laughter, as they disengaged. Cole quickly sobered and asked, "Why did you accept me so quickly after we first met?"
Again, Cecile shrugged. "I don't know. I guess because Olivia told me about you. And I liked your vibes. I have good instincts, you know."
"You'd be thinking differently if we had met three years ago."
Cecile replied, "Hey, we all have our pasts to deal with. Including me. Remember? Besides, look who's my boyfriend."
A sly smile quirked Cole's lips. "You've got a point." Cecile playfully slapped his arm. "Speaking of Andre, tell him I'll be seeing him in a few days. Both of you. Probably on Christmas."
"I'll be sure to tell him." Cecile gave Cole one last hug. "See you soon." Then she picked up her shopping bag, waved one last time and headed for the lounge.
* * * *
Inside Olivia's apartment, Paige sat on the sofa while she flipped through a fashion magazine. Her hostess was busy searching for a missing bottle of garlic inside the kitchen. As she continued to peruse the magazine, Paige came upon an advertisement that featured a blond woman modeling expensive lingerie. The model strongly reminded her of Cole's former secretary from his days as the Source. What was her name? Oh yeah, Julie.
A shadow cast over the magazine in Paige's lap. She glanced up and found Olivia standing over her. "Pretty woman," the older woman commented. "Is there a reason why you've been staring at that photo for the past several minutes?"
"I wasn't staring!" Paige protested.
A red eyebrow quirked upward. "So, exactly what were you staring at, while I called your name . . . three times?"
Paige felt her face grow hot. "Okay! So, I was staring at her. I'm not coming out of the closet, if that's what you think. I . . . she reminded me of someone I once met. Cole's assistant."
"She doesn't look anything like Ms. Read."
A sigh left Paige's mouth. "I'm talking about his former assistant, Julie. When Cole was the Source."
"Oh."
Paige continued, "She was also a demon. Phoebe ended up killing her by using a demonic power from Source Junior."
Olivia frowned. "Demonic power?"
"You know, evil power."
Green eyes regarded Paige with slight amusement. "Oh yes. I forgot that you and your sisters believe the whole 'good and evil powers' scenario. A good number of witches do."
Now, it was Paige's turn to frown. "You mean, you don't?"
"Not really. I think it's a lot of crap," Olivia replied. She sat down next to Paige. "To me, magical powers are simply powers and nothing else. Not good or evil, but neutral. It's not what they are that counts, but how you use them."
Paige's frown deepened. "But, how many witches do you know have pyrokinesis?"
"You'd be surprised." Olivia added, "I have a distant cousin in Scotland, who has the power of pyrokinesis. He's from my grandfather's generation. And his power is very strong. He's certainly not a warlock or daemon."
"Huh." A wry smile curved Paige's lips. "You know that reminds me of Tyler, that fire starter we had helped last year. And what Piper once said to me, two months ago. Only . . ." Her smile disappeared.
Olivia asked, "Only what?"
Paige continued, "Only when it came to Cole's powers, she had definitely believed they were evil. Like the rest of us. I guess it's because he got them while he was in the Wasteland." She glanced at Olivia. "That doesn't really count, does it?"
"No, not really. Aside from Ed Miller, has Cole ever used his new powers to deliberately harm someone?"
Paige shook her head. "Well, there was Barbas. But he had used them to save us from that bastard. And he has used his powers to help us on other occasions." Shame washed over her. She sighed. "I guess I forgot that."
At that moment, Cole appeared before the two women. "Well, Cecile's on her way home." He glanced at his watch. "Or should be in another ten minutes."
Silence fell between the trio. Paige glanced at the magazine, fearful of meeting the half-demon's eyes. Olivia stood up. "I think I better pay Mrs. DiCicco a visit and see if she has any garlic. Thank God I had decided to take the day off." She strode toward the door and disappeared into the hall, leaving the two former in-laws alone.
Mustering all of her courage, Paige glanced up. "Cole," she began, "I know you're still pissed at me . . ."
"No, not any longer," he said, surprising Paige. "In fact, I want to apologize, myself. For being so . . . unforgiving. You only meant well, and I let my anger get the best of me."
Paige glanced away. "I guess I'm no different," she said in a shy voice. "Of course, in my case, I let fear and prejudice get in the way."
A smile lit up Cole's face. "Look, I forgive you. Really. Hell, everyone deserves forgiveness. Don't you think?"
Paige responded with a wry grin. "Sure. Even half-demons." Her grin disappeared. "I only wish that Phoebe and Piper would apologize."
"How did they take . . .?"
"The news?" Paige slammed the magazine shut and tossed it on the table. "Piper refuses to believe that what we had done was wrong. And Phoebe . . . I don't know. It's like she can't even face what I've found out. Or don't want to talk about it, one way or the other. But she has been pretty quiet lately. I'm sorry."
Cole shrugged. "That's okay. Piper and . . . Phoebe will have to deal with what happened . . . eventually. Besides, I don't really expect them to apologize after I had killed Ed Miller."
Nodding, Paige said, "Maybe. I mean what you did was wrong. But Ed Miller was no innocent. And who are we to point fingers after what we had done to you?"
"Cecile told me that it was she who conjured up visions of my time as the Source. And projected them to you."
A burst of anxiety flared within Paige. "Don't blame Cecile! Please! It's not her fault! I had orbed her to your place, so she could pick up on your essence. And she did. We saw everything from when the Seer tricked you into using the Hollow, until when we . . . my sisters and I . . . well, van . . . killed you."
Cole inhaled deeply. Stared at his former sister-in-law, much to her discomfort. "It's okay," he said, to Paige's relief. Then he seared her with another hard stare. "Just don't do it again."
Paige raised her hand. "Never again. Unless it's an emergency." After a pause, she added soberly, "You ever wonder, Cole . . ."
"Wonder what?"
Taking a deep breath, Paige continued, "Wonder what would have happened if all of us had never met Olivia and her family? Do you think I would have found out what really happened to you, last spring?"
More than a minute passed before Cole finally answered. A shadow darkened his face momentarily. "That's a possibility I certainly don't want to consider." Paige realized with an inward shudder that she felt the same. Thank goodness her friendship with Cole would be given another chance.
THE END
”KING SOLOMON’S MINES” (1950) Review
To my knowledge, there have been at least four film adaptations of H. Rider Haggard’s adventure novel, ”King Solomon’s Mines”. One film had been released in 1937, featuring Sir Cedric Hardwicke and Paul Robeson. Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer released one in 1950, starring Deborah Kerr and Stewart Granger. Richard Chamberlain and Sharon Stone co-starred in one in 1985. And in 2004, Patrick Swayze and Alison Doody starred in a two-part miniseies, based on the novel. But the film I want to focus upon is the 1950 version. Quite frankly, it is my favorite one.
It took Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer nearly four years to get ”KING SOLOMON’S MINES” into production. They had originally planned to have Errol Flynn star as the Victorian hunter and guide living in Africa, Allan Quartermain. But Flynn dreaded the idea of spending time away from any form of luxury, while on location in Africa. He ended up taking the leading role in MGM’s other adventure, ”KIM”, in which he spent his off-camera hours at a resort in India. British actor, Stewart Granger, took the role of Quartermain . . . and became a major Hollywood star. The other cast members included Deborah Kerr as Elizabeth Curtis, the woman who hires Quartermain to lead a safari in search of her missing husband; Richard Carlson as John Goode, Elizabeth’s likeable older brother; Siriaque as the mysterious Umbopa, who is revealed to be King of the Watusi; and Hugo Haas as Van Brun, a former hunter who is wanted by British authorities for murder. Directed by Compton Bennett and Andrew Marton, ”KING SOLOMON’S MINES” was filmed on location in the Republic of Congo and Kenya, along with California.
Loosely based upon Haggard’s novel, ”KING SOLOMON’S MINES” tells the story of Allan Quatermain (Stewart Granger), an experienced hunter and guide in 1897 Kenya, who is reluctantly talked into helping Elizabeth Curtis (Deborah Kerr) and her brother John Goode (Richard Carlson) search for her husband, who had disappeared in the unexplored interior of Africa on a quest to find the legendary mines. They have a copy of the map that Henry Curtis had used in his journey. A tall, mysterious native, Umbopa (Siriaque), eventually joins the safari. And during the grueling journey, Elizabeth and Quatermain begin falling in love.
As I had stated, this version of ”KING SOLOMON’S MINES” is my favorite version. It is not a very close adaptation of the novel. For one, there was no literary version of the Elizabeth Curtis character. And her husband, Henry, was definitely one of the characters. It was he who hired Quartermain to lead a search party – for his missing brother. John Goode was a close friend, instead of a brother-in-law. The novel was basically set in Southern Africa, instead of Kenya and other parts of East Africa. I am quite certain there are other differences between Haggard’s novel and this movie adaptation. But if I must be frank, I really do not care. I love ”KING SOLOMON’S MINES”. Its screenplay written by Helen Deutsch, the movie possessed a heady combination of an adventure film, a travelogue and intelligent drama. Cinematographer Robert Surtees deservedly won an Academy Award for his color photography in the movie. East Africa never looked more beautiful and wild. Ralph E. Winters and Conrad A. Nervig won the Academy Award for Best Editing. Thanks to them, there were able to allow the audience to enjoy the African photography, while ensuring that it would not get in the way of the acting and the story.
Speaking of the movie’s acting, MGM was fortunate to get their hands on Stewart Granger in the role of Allan Quartermain. Granted, I am a major fan of Errol Flynn, but Granger was right for the role. He did an excellent job of projecting the heroic qualities of Quartermain, yet at the same time, delving into the character’s cynical, yet slightly melancholy personality. Deborah Kerr was a perfect match as the equally caustic Elizabeth Curtis, who sets the journey in motion to find her husband and alleviate her guilt for driving the latter from England. The on-screen match between Granger and Kerr was so strong that it was simply a joy to watch their verbal sparring and sexual chemistry. Richard Carlson as Elizabeth Curtis’ brother, John Goode, provided cool and intelligent stability amidst the sexual heat and hostility generated by Granger and Kerr. And the East African actor Siriaque’s (I have no idea from which country he came from) character added mystery as the native who joins the Curtis safari.
I am trying to think of something negative to say about ”KING SOLOMON’S MINES”. Okay, there were moments when it was in danger of becoming nothing more than a travelogue. And Deborah Kerr’s new hairdo after she had “cut” her hair, resembled a style that a mid 20th century woman would wear and not one in the late 19th century. No wonder many moviegoers had laughed. But the movie’s human portrayal of the African characters allowed it to avoid the tackiness of the 1985 Chamberlain-Stone version or the silly tactic that Paul Robeson was forced to use in order to reveal his character’s true identity. The movie also provided excellent acting by its cast, great cinematography, and excellent action sequences. Is it any wonder that it ended up receiving a Best Picture Academy Award nomination?
"THE CORELLIAN CONNECTION"
CHAPTER TEN
ANCHORHEAD, TATOOINE
The Lars' landspeeder sped toward the edge of one of Tatooine's oldest settlements, Anchorhead. It came to a halt near a square structure that served as the centerpiece of Tosche Station, the city's main power and distribution station. Owen climbed out of the landspeeder before he offered Padme a lending arm. "Thank you Owen," the former Nabooan senator said. "And thanks for bringing me here to Anchorhead. I realize that you had intended to come here on your own, but I needed to find another holoemitter. Or at least a new power source for my old one."
"It's no problem, Padme. Believe me." Owen gave his guest a reassuring smile. "Besides, I realize that you need a working holoemitter. And I did promise Beru that I would get a new moisture trap for the kitchen."
The pair slowly proceeded into Anchorhead's city limits. They entered one of the local pourstone stores, where Padme purchase a new power cell for her emitter. They found the equipment for Beru's moisture trap at a nearby junk dealer's shop. After leaving the second shop, Owen suggested they treat themselves to a light, midday meal at a local cantina. "I know the perfect place," he said. "The Weary Traveler. You'll find less of the local scum than you would at some