The Summons



The Summons
Chapter 3

Time carries on,
I guess it always will.
But deep inside my heart,
Time stands still.
Stay for awhile.
Well, it's good to see your smile,
And I love your company.
Stay for awhile,
And remember the days gone by.
For a moment things can seem
Just the way they used to be.
Time takes its toll,
And time alters our view.
It would be nice to
Spend some time with you.

Filia returned from the bedroom, having taken a moment to changed out of her robe into something slightly more appropriate for entertaining a guest. Xellos looked up from his tea and abruptly burst out laughing, as she thought he might.

"Oh, Miss Filia, it would appear you've developed a sense of humor at last," he said as she sat down. "I do love your shirt."

She looked down at it, where two green-scaled Dragons, in typical, Medieval fantasy cartoon style, were featured. One was handing the other a heart-shaped box that resembled a stereotypical Valentine's chocolate box. The caption read: My favorite! The little scream-filled kind!

"I didn't buy it," she corrected him. "Val got it for me some years on back."

"Either way..." he chuckled. "You've changed."

"You haven't." Filia studied him, and raised an eyebrow. "Well...aside from your hair? When did you forgo the purple for black, and adopt a short style?"

"Short? This?" He raised a hand and raked his fingers through his hair, which, while shorter than it was so long ago, still had a bit of length to it, styled with a bit of a spiked, rakish appearance. "You should have seen me in the thirties."

"I'm almost afraid to ask."

"And I went with black a long time ago, it just drew less attention. I could go back to purple again, now that everybody and his dog seems to have unnaturally-colored hair, but..." He shrugged.

"It looks nice." She hesitated. "Different, but nice."

"And your hair..." He reached out, brushing his fingers through it. "It's the length your bangs used to be. At least you still have your bangs."

"That cowlick can never be tamed," she replied, crossing her eyes and looking up, reaching up to the center of her bangs where her hair twisted up and away to fall to the sides of her face. "It's just too much work to maintain long hair."

"It was almost as long as it used to be in the sixties, I recall," Xellos said, then cringed. "But you were ironing it!"

"It was in style at the time!" Filia protested.

"Filia, my dear, so were bellbottoms. That doesn't make them right."

"And here I thought that would be right up your alley as a Mazoku."

"Please! I like chaos as much as the next Mazoku, but at least I do it in style." He added something under his breath she didn't catch.

"What was that?"

"I simply said I would never have committed such a horrible fashion faux pas as wearing a bright orange trenchcoat if I had red hair."

Filia raised an eyebrow. "I beg your pardon?"

"Lord Gaav, you probably wouldn't remember him, since the two of you had never met. He was the Mazoku which Valgaav served."

"Ahh. Right." Filia blinked, considering the colors, and grimaced. "Ew."

"Exactly."

"I could make it worse..."

Xellos peered at her over the rim of his glasses. "Say what?"

"What if he had one of those Afro styles from the seventies?"

Xellos stared. "Miss Filia, are you quite certain you are not a Mazoku? That is a concept of truly nightmarish proportions." Filia laughed quietly, and he grinned. "Your ears are different too. Not that cute little Elven look."

"Yeah. I..." She frowned, thinking. "I don't remember when it was, but it was back in the days of magic. Val and I sought out a spell we could use to alter our appearance further. Mostly for his hair and eyes, and my ears."

"That would explain why his hair's auburn now."

Filia nodded. "His eyes were a bit unusual, still more Dragon than human, so they had to change. We decided to alter my ears while we were at it."

"Such a shame. The ears were charming," he said. Filia smiled and sipped her tea. "You're certainly becoming more at ease."

"I suppose."

"Perhaps you are finally getting it through your head that I wish no harm to befall you, Miss Filia?"

"But why? I mean, you're a Mazoku, I'm a Dragon, mortal enemies and all that."

"Sore wa himitsu--"

"Damnit, Xellos!" She grabbed a throw pillow off the sofa and hit him over the head with it. "Answer me!"

"Well, since you asked so nicely," he said, snickering. "And here I thought you were beginning to take things at face value."

"Where you're involved?" Filia gave an unladylike snort. "Hardly."

"Very well, then. The reason why..." He trailed off and looked away, removing the glasses.

Filia watched him, frowning a little as the humor in his expression faded rapidly. "Yes?" she prodded.

He looked at her, eyes open, still the cat-like, slitted amethyst as always. "We're all we have left."

Filia shivered, feeling suddenly chilled. "What do you mean..?"

Xellos closed his eyes and gave a facial shrug, sighing slightly. "I'm the last of my kind, Filia," he said quietly. "I have been for a very long time now." His eyes returned to hers. "You and Val, you're the last of the true Dragons. There are others, I'll admit, but only in spirit. They do not have the lifespan nor the memories as the two of you do."

Filia swallowed hard, feeling slightly queasy from unease.

"And none of them..." He shook his head. "We're the only ones who remember how it was, the old days, when the science of magic, not science alone, ruled the earth. We remember Dark Star, and Lina Inverse, and everything else."

Filia looked down into her mug, and closed her eyes.

"What is it, Miss Filia?"

"I don't..."

"You...you do not remember Lina?"

Filia shook her head. "The name is familiar, vaguely..."

"Little red-headed sorceress with a temper and appetite far bigger than her chest?"

"I... vaguely. Yes, it's... there, but I don't really remember the details."

"Princess Amelia? Mister Gourry?"

Filia shook her head, swallowing hard, wracking her brain. "I recall Jillas and... Gary? Grady? No, neither of those--"

"Gravos."

"Grav...? Oh! Yes, thank you, Gravos. I recall them. There..." She hesitated. "Wasn't there someone with blue skin and hair? Something was the matter, he was sick or something? I remember a cure..."

"Mister Zelgadis. He was a chimera. His skin was stone, and his hair was wire."

Filia blinked. "How terribly uncomfortable that must have been."

"The cure he sought was--"

"For his chimera-ness!" Filia chimed in. "I do remember." She frowned. "There's not much else, though?"

Xellos sighed.

"I'm sorry," Filia said weakly, feeling suddenly guilty. "It's just been so very long..."

"I suppose it has..."

"I never forgot you, though."

He looked at her and smirked, but Filia thought it seemed just a bit bitter. "As if I would have let you do so."

"I never will."

"Indeed." He seemed distant for a moment, then put his glasses back on, standing. "Thank you for the tea, Miss Filia."

"Xellos?" She got to her feet. "Is something wrong?"

He looked at her and smiled slightly. "You should rest. You've had a long day."

"Is this because I can't remember...?"

Xellos shook his head. "No."

"Please don't go..." She looked at him, reaching out, imploring. "Stay."

"Miss Filia..."

"Maybe I don't remember..." The way her voice suddenly cracked at the words, and the way her heart wrenched painfully in a renewed sense of homesickness surprised her. She tried to continue, but her words dissolved into a sob. "But I'm trying..."

He took her hand, pulling her closer, brushing his hand over her hair. "Shh. I'm sorry for bringing it up. Don't cry. I never did like it when you cried."

"I'm trying," she whispered. "But so many faces and places, and I had to watch what was said, I had to watch the references more and more and... I just quit talking and thinking, and everything faded. I can see impressions in the mind's eyes, dimly, but the details and names..."

"I'm sorry for bringing it up."

"No. I feel like I've lost a part of me I didn't realize was missing." She looked up at him. "Stay. Please."

He brushed the tears off her cheek with the pad of his thumb. "I'll stay." Xellos sighed, and brushed her hair out of her eyes. "But, I do need to leave shortly to see to some things." His fingertip pressed over her lips as she started to whimper a protest. "But for now, I will stay until you fall asleep, and I will be back."

"You promise?"

"Lying has never been an option in my eyes, Miss Filia. That has never changed."

"Help me remember, please?"

He nodded slightly. "But not right now. You're quite tired and overly-emotional. Come. Lay down, Miss Filia, and rest."

Filia let him lead her into the bedroom. He held out the box of tissue from her bedside table, and she plucked out several, wiping her eyes and nose. After she lay snuggled back on the bed under the pillows, he rested his hand on her forehead, lightly stroking her hair.

"Sleep, Miss Filia. There is nothing here that will harm you. You're safe."

She watched him for a moment, then rubbed her eyes. "I was remembering earlier..."

"Yes?"

"Was it you, in Whitechapel?"

He chuckled softly. "You still haven't figured it out?"

"Figured out what?"

"You were out of your element, as I said. You were also far too close at that moment. It could have been you that was found that morning, not Annie Chapman."

"You knew who it was."

"Yes."

"Was it Sickert?"

"Perhaps." He shrugged. "Perhaps not."

She studied him. "Well? Which is it?"

Xellos grinned slightly. "That, my dear Filia, is a secret for the ages. The mystique of the Ripper is the allure. History becomes legend, and legend becomes myth, all the better to fuel the imagination. In this day and age, imagination begins to suffer as magic did long ago."

"In other words, you're not going to tell me."

"You or anyone."

"Why did you kiss me?"

"You remember that, eh?"

"Yes."

"Hmm."

"Well?"

He grinned again. "What's life without a little mystery?"

"Xellos!"

"Maybe I'll tell you, one of these days. But for now..." He brushed his hand over her face, forcing her to shut her eyes on reflex. "Get some rest."

"Oh, all right," she grumbled, rolling onto her side, facing him. Filia closed her eyes and sensed the sudden darkness as Xellos switched off the bedside light. His hand was gentle against her hair, stroking, soothing, lulling her into relaxation, and finally...

Xellos carefully withdrew his hand, once he was certain she was asleep. He silently stood from her bed and went through her house, turning off lights and the stereo, and tidied up the tea set which was left out.

Val would be a bit of a trick, he knew. But then, he was Xellos. Nothing was beyond him once he set his mind to it. A plan had already formed, and there was hardly a moment left to waste.

But first, there was one more thing he wanted to do.

Xellos took a piece of stationary and a pen from Filia's desk, and wrote out a note. Then, he sat down, resting a moment before pressing his hands together and concentrating.

When he moved them apart, a perfect, violet sphere rested on his palm, hardly larger than a golf ball. Xellos loathed the sense of fatigue that crept up on him at the exertion of power. Things had been so much easier, back before magic died.

After a few more moments of rest, he placed the sphere and note by Filia on the bedside table where she would be sure to see it, and vanished.

"Morning, Doctor Copton."

Val gave the receptionist a nod as he signed in, writing out Calvin Copton in a lazy scrawl. "Morning, Rosie."

"This was delivered by special courier this morning," Rosie said, handing out a large, flat, manilla envelope. "Were you expecting something?"

"Not to my recollection, but with as hectic as everything's been..." He took it from her, tucking it under his arm. "Thanks."

His secretary had a cup of coffee waiting on his desk when he reached his office. "The notes from the meeting yesterday are on your desk, as well as the test results from the computer simulation. You have twelve messages, three of them are from Mary Sue Smith, and you've got one from Major Ryers up in Fort Detrick; she wants you to give her a call when you know the vaccination results."

"Thanks, Kay." He set his briefcase and the envelope down, and pulled on his lab coat.

"Didn't have time to dry your hair this morning?" she asked in amusement as he sipped his coffee, picking up the test results.

Val set his coffee mug down, and raked a hand through his still-damp locks. "I usually don't bother, but it's so humid out this morning, it didn't make a dent."

"I know. Just walking to my car, I felt like I was taking a bath. This summer's supposed to be a scorcher."

"In other words, there's liable to be plenty of work for us."

"Let's hope not."

"Your lips, God's ear, as the saying goes," he replied, sitting down and flipping a page on the report. "Damn."

"What?"

"The results aren't matching up." He sighed. "Looks like it's back to the drawing board."

"Was that the vaccine project?"

"Yeah."

"We'll get it right one of these days."

Val nodded. "Is Tony in yet?"

"Yeah, but he's in a conference call with some doctors in Denver at the moment."

"All right, I had a new idea for something to try on this, in case the experiment didn't fly."

"I'll send word to his office."

"Thanks."

He walked to the cabinet and filed the results away before skimming through the notes of the meeting. Those were tucked away into a file as well, then he turned his attention to the phone messages. Several of them didn't require a response, the ones from Mary Sue were crumpled into a ball and tossed aside, and then he called the Army base to break the bad news about the results.

Val picked up the crumpled messages, staring at them, growing angrier by the minute. She knew she wasn't supposed to call his office unless it was an emergency. he dialed another number, drumming his fingers on the desk while listening to it ring.

"Hello." As annoyed as he was, her voice grated over his nerves.

"How many times have I told you not to call my office?" he snapped.

"You weren't returning my calls last night," Mary Sue said, her tone petulant.

"I was busy!"

"Too busy for even little ol' me?" she pouted, and in his mind's eye, he could see her clearly. Toying childishly with a lock of her glossy black hair which she somehow managed to keep looking fresh even in the summer humidity, an action she somehow thought made herself look endearing. And of course, she would be sticking out her lower lip while batting her violet eyes -- eyes which he knew by now were colored by contacts, not real as she fervently insisted. Perhaps it had been cute when she was six, but not when she was twenty-six.

"Drop the act." He grabbed the messages and threw them into the trash. "How many times do I have to tell you, this is a medical facility, not your personal dating service or message board?"

"Well, you weren't answering," she complained. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Wait!" he retorted, then drew in a deep breath. "Actually, there's another idea."

"What's that, darlings?"

"You don't call. At all. At my house or here or my cell. You don't page me, you don't see me, and we have nothing more to do with each other. The more I think about that, the more I like it."

"Oh, but Calvin, darling, you surely don't mean that."

"You're a lovely woman, appearance-wise, and I'll admit not that bad in bed. But you are without a doubt a self-centered little whiny bitch who thinks the world revolves around her, and I'm sick of it."

"I am not a bitch! I'm merely assertive!" she protested, and he rolled his eyes.

"Either way, I'll be quite happy if we never spoke again, so this relation-- no, this mistake is over. Now, I have work to do, so good-bye." He could hear her protesting even as he drew the phone away from his ear and slammed it down. "Kay!" he shouted, getting to his feet even as the phone started ringing again. He lifted it off the cradle and hung up. "Don't take any more of Mary Sue's calls."

She stuck her head in his office and grinned, giving him a thumbs up. "Glad to see you came to your senses."

The phone rang yet again, and he jerked it up, getting pissed. "How many different times do I have to say leave me alone before you get it through your scatterbrained head it's over?"

"Um...I don't know. Maybe three more times?" a man said.

"Oh, shit." Val sat down heavily in his chair, covering his eyes with his hand. "Jeez, Tony, I'm sorry."

He could hear the other man laughing over the phone, and fought down a blush. "Lady troubles as usual, hmm?" Tony asked. "I was just calling to see if you were ready to head into the lab."

"Uh, just about," he said, looking around. "Give me about ten minutes."

"All right, but don't nurse that broken heart too long. Viruses are waiting."

"Oh, shut up," he retorted good-naturedly, and hung up the phone.

Val downed the rest of his coffee as he finished up a few more quick calls, and stood. The envelope caught his eye, and he checked the time before picking it up, opening it curiously.

"The hell?" he muttered, frowning in confusion as he looked over the documents. Then he caught the names involved. Growing frantic, he skimmed through a few more, walking to the door. "Kay?"

"Yes, doctor?"

"Call American," he said, still looking through the reports. "Give me two hours, but get me on the next flight after that up to New York. I'm taking emergency leave."

"What happened?"

"My sister was attacked last night. Someone sent me the police and medical reports." He stalked back into his office, swearing under his breath. "I've been telling her those subways were getting too dangerous!"

"Is she okay?"

"Well, she's alive and she was released that night, so physically..." He looked to his secretary. "I need to make sure, though."

"I'll sign you out and get the paperwork in order, and fax you the flight information at your house. Go home and pack," she told him as he shoved the documents back into their envelope and shrugged out of his lab coat.

"Thanks, Kay. I owe you." He grabbed his keys and kissed her cheek quickly before rushing out to the parking lot.

to be continued...
Chapter Four