Date:         Thu, 6 Apr 1995 10:25:23 -0300
From:         Pandora 
Subject:      Fluff:  Shades of Gray, Part 17

We're still plotting and writing folks, but Real Life (tm) has been
gaining on us, thus the growing delays between episodes.  Those of you
who are still reading, we'd love to hear from you!

The Merry Fluffsters
fraser@vax.library.utoronto.ca (Baron Gideon Redoak)
jgra@music.stlawu.edu (The Gray Adept)
wallacel@ac.dal.ca (Pandora)

* * *

Shades of Gray
Part 17

c.  1995, A. Fraser, J. Gray, L. M. Wallace
fraser@vax.library.utoronto.ca, jgra@music.stlawu.edu, wallacel@ac.dal.ca

* * *

Pandora found the men in the drawing room:  Gideon sitting in his favourite
chair, Evan standing by the fireplace, and Nicholas and the Gray Adept perched
on the sofa.  The tension in the air was palpable and Pandora winced slightly
as she entered the room.  Pumpkin, curled by the fire, thumped her tail
unenthusiastically as the healer entered.  The dog whined once and then fell
silent.

All three men stood as she came in, but it was Gideon who broke the
uncomfortable silence.  "Genevieve...?" he began, watching Pandora
expectantly.

She resisted the urge to look at the Adept, but she could see him
peripherally.  He looked ill at ease, and she could not blame him.  Gideon,
Evan and Nicholas had clearly not made any attempt at making him feel welcome.

"I have given her a special tea that I have used for many years to--to emulate
the blood," she explained.  "I have left the ingredients and instructions with
Evan on how to prepare it.  It will provide nourishment and has already had a
noticeable effect.  But she is sleeping now, Gideon," Pandora continued,
gently discouraging him from going to visit her.

"Will this tea...will it make her better, Pandora?" the Baron asked, a glimmer
of hope touching his face.

"Not by itself, no," Pandora responded honestly.  "But it will help keep her
strength up.  That is all I can tell you for now."

Gideon nodded and returned to his seat, resuming his inspection of the fire.

"Are you ready to go?" Nicholas asked, fingering his car keys impatiently.

"Yes, there's nothing more I can do tonight.  But if there is any change," she
looked at Evan and Gideon pointedly, "any change at all, call me.
Immediately."

Both men nodded.  Gideon made as if to rise but Pandora stopped him by placing
a hand on his arm.

"Try not to worry, Gideon.  Worry is a useless expenditure of energy, energy
that is required elsewhere."  Looking around the room she became aware of
Joshua's absence.  "Have you been tending your garden?" she asked him softly.

Gideon smiled slightly and fixed the healer with a questioning stare.  "Have
you?" he looked over her shoulder at Nicholas.

"With every tool I possess," she responded quietly.  She turned to
Nicholas.  "Okay, love, I'm ready."

The three left the mansion under Evan's watchful eye, and climbed into
Nicholas's car.  Pandora sank back in the passenger's seat and closed her
eyes, exhaustion beginning to creep into her very bones.

"Anywhere in particular, in the village?" the bard asked of his passenger
in the backseat, as they came to the bottom of the Cliff Road.

"Ah, at the outskirts would be fine, Nicholas.  I feel the need to walk,
get some fresh air," the Adept answered, his face in shadow.

"No problem."  Nicholas pulled over to the side of the road at the turnoff
to Meadowsweet Ridge, which ran adjacent to the village's main street.

"Thank you," the Adept said shortly as he clambered out of the car.

Pandora rolled down her window to speak with him.  "Tomorrow?  You will call?
We have much to discuss," her voice was slightly harsh, laden with weariness.

"Yes.  Yes, I will, Pandora.  Good night," he said, nodding his head, then
turned and walked away towards the village.

Pandora rolled up her window and turned to stare straight ahead as Nicholas
pulled out onto the highway.  They rode the rest of the way in silence.

At home, Pandora headed directly to the kitchen to prepare some tea for
herself--something to help her relax and maybe find some restful sleep.
Nicholas wandered into the Great Room to play with Bel, who was jumping around
ecstatically.  The Bard eyed the discarded tea things on the coffee table,
feeling a disjointed sense of jealousy at the fact that the Adept had been
here with Pandora, alone.  The image of he and Pandora in an embrace returned
and he clenched his hands unconsciously in remembrance of his anger.

No matter what Michael said and despite Pandora's reassurances, he still
felt supremely uncomfortable about their friendship.  The idea that there
could be a sexual element to it bothered him more than he cared to admit,
he knew.  He was becoming more aware of his feelings in this matter over
the last few days, and they had become painfully clear to him earlier this
evening.  But it wasn't even just that, he knew.  There was something
he couldn't quite grasp about their relationship, something that went
beyond the physical, something almost spiritual in its intensity.  If
it were truly only a physical attraction he believed it would not
bother him as much; he trusted Pandora, trusted her motives and her
instincts.  He did not honestly feel she would enter a physical
relationship with another man, not without love or...or...he shook
his head, not really willing to think about the alternate scenarios.

He contemplated all of this as he played with the pup and listened to
Pandora's clatterings in the kitchen.  But then another sound reached his
sensitive ears, although muffled, and he was struck with a sudden sense of
self-loathing and remorse for his thoughts.

In the kitchen, Pandora set about making her tea like an automaton.  When the
tears rose she struggled to repress them, but it was not to be.  She finally
relented, allowing the tide to rise within and, bracing herself against the
counter, gave into weeping.  Her shoulders shook with silent sobs as she tried
to control them, not wanting Nicholas to hear her, to see her like this.  She
was tired of trying to explain her feelings to him, her fears.  What she
needed was just this blessed release without having to answer any questions.
But when she felt his arms creep gently around her, she turned and buried her
face against his shoulder, clinging to him like a drowning woman.  She had
railed against him the other night for suggesting that he needed to protect
her, but at this moment she would gladly have stayed forever in the safety and
warmth of his arms, feeling his love and concern for her emanating from him
and into the very pores of her skin.

"Tha gaol agam ort, Nevyan," she whispered between sobs.

"I know, mo croidhe.  Cuisle mo croidhe, I love you, too," he whispered back,
holding her tightly.  As he did so he swore to himself that he would stand by
her, no matter what.  She would know through his actions how much she meant to
him, no matter how difficult the circumstances. But as he held her close,
comforting her, he found himself questioning his own strength and just
how far he could be tested before his resolve broke.

* * *

Date:         Sun, 9 Apr 1995 11:06:22 -0300
From:         Pandora 
Subject:      Fluff:  Shades of Gray, Part 18

Shades of Gray, Part 18

* * *
c.  A. Fraser, J. Gray, L.M. Wallace

{fraser@vax.library.utoronto.ca, jgra@music.stlawu.edu, wallacel@ac.dal.ca}
* * *

The call for an emergency meeting of the Brotherhood of Darkness
came just as Pandora was greeting the Gray Adept at Meadowsweet
Ridge.

"That was Michael," Nicholas informed Pandora, nodding briefly
at the Adept.  "We're meeting at 7:00."

Pandora's eyes widened but she nodded.  She had been expecting
this.  Turning to the Adept she said, "We have much to discuss
then.  This is an opportunity to present our plans."  She led
him to the dining table which was littered with herbals.

"I've been making notes," Pandora explained.  "This is such
a unique situation for me, I want to be thorough.  Please have
a seat, I'll make some tea."

The Adept sat, picking up a very old book, a rare 16th century herbal
which had been gifted to Nicholas and Pandora by Janine and Alexander
at their handfasting.  Nicholas hovered about the kitchen as
Pandora made tea, keeping an eye on the stranger over the open
counter.

"Nicholas, I think Bel needs his walk," Pandora observed quietly.

At his look of protest she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.  "It's
all right, love.  We need some time to discuss Genevieve's treatment."

Nicholas nodded, although he did not appear entirely happy to leave
them alone.  He grabbed his jacket and whistled to the pup, who
came bounding at breakneck speed, jumping and bouncing at the door.

"Be back soon," Nicholas said, looking pointedly at the Adept, before
leaving the house.

Pandora returned to the dining area with tea, and together she and
the Adept discussed the healing ritual.  They scarcely noticed when
Nicholas returned, and did not look up until he informed them it
was time to leave for the meeting.

They drove out to the Fairlawn's estate in silence, each lost in
their own thoughts about the upcoming meeting.  The tension in
the car was palpable, and it was with some considerable relief
that they finally arrived at their destination.

Pandora led the Gray Adept to the front door of the house, while
Nicholas headed directly for the meeting room, although he
hesitated at the door, watching the two disappear around the
corner, his jaw clenching with apprehension.

It was Bess who answered Pandora's ring, eyeing the Adept with
frank curiosity as she stood aside to let them in.

"Bess, this is the Gray Adept.  He'll be waiting here until he's
called into the meeting," Pandora explained.

"Hi," Bess said simply, nodding.  "Dad told me.  Come on in--
Mum's gone to Oakwoods to sit with Genevieve and Josh; Mrs. Jenkins is
here to look after the twins."

"Thank you, Bess," said Pandora, gesturing to the Adept to follow
her into the living room.

"Good evening, Mrs. Jenkins," the healer greeted Count Alexander
Goldanias's matronly protector, who was sitting in the corner
rocking chair, knitting.

"Pandora, how lovely to see you dear," Mrs. Jenkins smiled warmly.
"Good evening, sir," she nodded towards the Adept.

"Evening," the Adept responded cordially.

Pandora started to make the formal introductions when she was
enthusiastically interrupted by a bouncing Vivain.  "Pandora!  Pandora!"
the small girl cried, hugging the woman's legs tightly.

"Vivain!" Pandora cried, teasingly, and bent to give the lass a hug,
burying her face in the girl's hair for a brief moment, savouring
the smell of sunlight and soap.

"Who's that?" Galen asked, standing in front of the Adept and staring
with the unabashed abandon only a child could get away with.

"This is Mr. Adept, children," Pandora said.  "Adept, these are
Mary and Michael's twins, Vivain and Galen."

The Adept looked with puzzlement from one to the other.  "Now, how
do you tell them apart?" he asked.

"Umm, by voice at first," Pandora laughed.  She removed her cloak
and draped it over the back of a chair.  She smoothed the skirt of
her soft wool dress nervously, looking towards the back of the house.

"Will you tell us a story, Pandora?" Vivain asked excitedely.
"We haven't seen you in ever so long."

"Well, sweetheart, maybe later.  I have to go into a meeting with daddy
first."

"Oh, please?  I want to hear about Jordan and the faeries..."

"Maybe the Adept could tell you a story," Pandora said mischievously,
favouring him with a wink.

Vivain eyed him with suspicion.  "Do you know the one about
Jordan and the faeries?" she asked.

"Umm, well, no, I don't think..." he started, twisting the button
of his cuff nervously.  "But I do know some magic."

"Magic?" asked Galen, his green eyes lighting up with interest.

"Mary left some tea things for you in the kitchen, dear," Mrs. Jenkins
spoke up from the corner, still rocking and knitting.

"Thank you.  I thought she might have.  Make yourself comfortable, Adept,
I won't be long."

"Fine, thank you, Pandora," he responded, settling into an armchair.

Galen continued to stare at him in mute fascination while Vivain
sulked.

"Children, it's rude to stare," admonished their babysitter quietly.

"Yeah," Vivain elbowed her brother.  "Don't stare!"

"Don't hit me!" he nudged her back.  "He's gonna do magic, like Daddy
does."

Vivain considered this.  "He doesn't look like Daddy."

"Children," said Mrs. Jenkins again, more firmly.  "Stop squabbling, or
Mr. Adept won't show you anything because you'll be going to your room."

This threat served to make the twins quiet down and sit staring up at
the Adept, their indentical curly red locks tumbling over their fox-like
faces, their disconcerting green eyes staring unblinkingly as they
demanded entertainment.

Pandora returned from the kitchen carrying a tray with three cups
of herbal tea and a plate of cookies.  She smiled in amusement
at the sight of the two children seated on the floor, raptly
watching the Adept playing with a black feather.

The Adept was looking uncertainly back and forth between the identical
twins. "Does either of you know what a cantrip is?" he asked, aware that
he should not seem too patronizing to these children.

The young voices competed to explain their limited knowledge of magic.
Pandora could tell by the Adept's soft laughter that he was nonetheless
impressed with their arcane education.

"Well, I don't know too much, either," the Adept said, invoking whines
of disappointment. "But an old Hopi medicine man did once teach me
how to catch the spirit of a bird in its feather and make it fly on
its own.  Would you like that?"

Vivain and Galen were very enthusiastic in their positive response.
Pandora lost what the Adept said to them as she returned to the kitchen
to help with preparations for the meeting.  She was just readying a
tray to take into the Brotherhood when Vivain and Galen appeared at her
skirts, pleading for cornmeal and salt.  She found them these components
and returned with them, marveling at the many hidden talents this
strange man possessed.

"Pandora?  We're ready," Michael's soft voice startled her and she
turned to find him standing behind her, watching the Adept.  His
attention seemed to be focused on the feather the Adept held and
he frowned deeply, his forehead lined with consternation.

"Okay," Pandora said, taking a deep breath.  "I'll come for
you shortly," she addressed the Adept, who looked up in surprise
then nodded to Michael in greeting.

"Good evening, sir," Michael responded evenly.  "We won't keep
you waiting long."  The Druid looked over at Bess who was chatting
away on the phone and he made a cutting motion with his hand.  Her
expression said "Awww, Dad..." but she complied and returned to the
living room.

"I want you to help put the children to bed, Bess.  Soon."

"Yes, Dad," she said, pouting.

He took another quick look around the room, studying the stranger
for an extra moment, then turned and led Pandora to the meeting room.

* * *

Date:         Thu, 13 Apr 1995 21:09:31 -0300
From:         "L.M. Wallace" 
Subject:      FLUFF:  Shades of Gray, Part 19

Shades of Gray, Part 19

* * *

c.  A. Fraser, J. Gray, L.M. Wallace, 1995

{fraser@vax.library.utoronto.ca, jgra@music.stlawu.edu, wallacel@ac.dal.ca}

* * *

Michael stood at the doorway of the meeting room until Pandora had
seated herself beside Nicholas.  He shut the door rather reluctantly,
obviously unhappy about leaving the Adept with his children.  To do the
Druid justice, he would have been equally unhappy had any other stranger
been in the same situation.

The Archdruid serveyed the assembled members of the Brotherhood as he
took his place at the front of the room, wondering what the mood of this
meeting was to be.  He did not need to guess at Nicholas's frame of mind,
as the bard draped his arm possessively across the back of Pandora's
chair as she took her seat.  The other principal player, Gideon, was tense,
his eyes unhappy, and Michael knew he'd rather be home keeping an eye on Gen
and Joshua.  The ancient healer made a mental note to check up on Joshua.

"Friends," said Michael softly, and all eyes turned to him.  "I think
you all know why we're here.  Our good friend Genevieve is seriously
ill.  It would seem that the person known to us as the Gray Adept is
somehow involved in this illness.  We are not entirely certain of just
what his connection is; however, if he has placed Gen in danger, which
it appears he has, it of concern to the Brotherhood.  Nicholas and
Gideon have approached me privately to express their concerns over this
individual and his purposes.  It would appear that the Adept is a
scholar studying _us_, and that alone is enough to give us pause for
thought.  What could he have done to Genevieve to make her so gravely ill?
What are his intentions towards Pandora?"

Several pairs of eyes flickered to Pandora at this statement.  Alex
closed one grey eye in a wink, smiling seductively, as if to suggest
what his own intentions towards her were.  Nicholas glared at the
dashing Count and Alex laughed softly.

"The concerns expressed to me seemed legitimate, for the most part.  I
used the international contacts in the Brotherhood to try to gain more
information on the Adept.  They found very little, only that, if he is
not immortal, he is certainly very long-lived.  He is associated with
Miss Preston's School for young female vampires, an establishment that
so far appears to be above any suspicion.  The reports were inconclusive
and unsatisfactory.  In order to find out more, and try to answer the
questions, I did a scrying."

_That_ provoked a reaction.  Maggie sat forward, eyes slightly narrowed.
Ray Griffin tried not to look interested, but his usual sardonic smile
was missing.  Both Nicholas and Gideon stirred, wanting to hear the
results.  Pandora gaped in astonishment, looking questioningly from
the Druid to Gideon, who avoided her gaze, finally resting her eyes
on her husband.  Nicholas shifted uneasily under her cold glare.

"Just listen, mo croidhe, please," he whispered pleadingly.  He covered
her hand that rested on the table with his own but she pulled it away
angrily.  Several pairs of eyebrows lifted at this display.

"What did you see?" Maggie demanded.

"Several images, hard to interpret," Michael replied.  "My first meeting
with Genevieve.  The handfasting, with the Adept and Pandora dancing.
An Asian man studying a scroll."  He wondered how to proceed, how to
tell the rest of his visions.  He looked at Gideon.  The dapper Baron
was close to breaking point already, how would he take the news about
the Adept's association with Ravensbrook?  "I saw the Adept coming out
of a tree at Meadowsweet Ridge," Michael went on, passing a hand in
front of his eyes as if he could make the pictures from the scrying bowl
go away.  "He seemed to have been watching Pandora perform a ritual
there."

Pandora gasped softly, unable to control the blush that rose into
her cheeks.  She remembered her vague uneasiness at the meadow when
she had retrieved the pup from the woods, the sense of being watched.

"Pandora?" Nicholas asked, his jaw clenched.  "On the night of the
full moon, did you perform your ritual outdoors?"

"Yes," she said softly, eliciting murmurs from around the table.  "It
was so mild," she continued, as if that could help explain Michael's
vision.

The bard studied her, his eyes trailing over her figure.  He knew
the sensualness of her full moon ritual that involved a dedication to the
Goddess in her mother aspect.  The anger he had been struggling to
contain threatened to rise again.

"So what do you think of your friend, now, Pandora, who would watch
a private ritual?  Is that not without conscience?" Nicholas demanded.

Pandora felt flustered.  The mere suggestion that the Adept could
have spied on her at such a time made her feel violated.  She knew
he had a scholarly interest in such things, but that went beyond the
tenuous bounds of the respect and friendship she thought they had formed.
On the other hand, she knew the questionable nature of scrying, knew
well that the Sight was highly interpretive.

"Michael, scrying is highly subjective," she said quickly.  "You know
that the images cannot necessarily be taken literally.  The Adept and
I have been discussing a healing ritual for Genevieve, perhaps that
is what you picked up on," she continued, trying to convince herself
as much as the others.

"Perhaps," Michael agreed.  "Although I am inclined to suspect that it
is suggestive of his methods of obtaining information."  He raised
his hand as Pandora opened her mouth to protest.  "There is more.  Before
we discuss this at any length, you need to hear the rest."

She nodded and sat back in her chair, folding her arms across her chest.

"Then I saw him interviewing someone," Michael concluded, shoulders
slumping.  "There is likely an explanation, but I don't know what it is.
He was talking to Ravensbrook."

Gideon sat so completely still and unmoved that Michael wondered if he'd
heard.  He didn't even look around as pandemonium erupted amongst the
rest of the Brotherhood.  Even Francis, who'd been fairly distant the
whole time, was staring at Michael in dismay.  Evan turned to his
employer, concern furrowing his forehead.

"Gideon?" he asked, nudging that frozen lump.

The Baron's hands trembled.  He was gripping the arms of his chair so
tightly that the wood creaked and threatened to splinter.  His eyes were
cold, bleakly staring at something he had thought safely in the past.

"Bring him in here," Gideon said, forcing the words from his frozen
tongue, past his clenched teeth.  "I want to hear this from him."  Those
eyes, bled of all life and colour, flickered to Michael.  "You say
there's an explanation, I want it from him."

Michael felt a rush of concern for Gideon.  He left his own chair and
walked slowly to the Baron's side.  Tentatively, he put a hand on that
stiff, unwielding shoulder.  "If that's what you want, Gideon," he said.

"It is."

The Archdruid turned to Pandora, looking torn and tired.  "Niamh,
perhaps you had best go ask the Adept to come in," he said.

Pandora nodded mutely.  She felt numb, unable to comprehend the
magnitude of what Michael's visions suggested.  And this did not
bode well for the healing ritual she and the Adept were planning,
leaving Genevieve in an even more precarious position.  They would
have to listen to them, however, have to be reminded that Genevieve's
life was at stake.  The Adept was essential for affecting a full
healing as was the full cooperation of all members of the Brotherhood.

She glanced around the room, scanning for any sign of support.  Maggie
caught her eyes and gave her the thumbs-up sign, although the Druid's
expression was taut and strained.  Pandora forced a small smile
of gratitude in response.  And Gideon...Pandora's heart went out to him,
knowing the effects this shock must be having on him.  He was already
so emotionally strained by Genevieve's illness.  She wanted to reach
out to him, comfort him, but as his eyes met hers, laden with pain
and accusation, she knew that he would not let her.  Not now.  She
shivered, feeling as if she were drowning while spectators lined the
shore to watch.

"Niamh?" Michael repeated, breaking through her reverie.

She nodded again and rose from her chair.

"I'm coming with you," Nicholas said quietly, taking her elbow.

"Yes, Nicholas," she said tiredly.  He gripped her arm tightly, but
she did not flinch.  His touch was comforting, even if that was not
his intent.

The sight which greeted them in the living room was not what either
of them would have expected, and Pandora heard Nicholas utter a small
grunt of surprise.

Vivain was shrieking with laughter as the Adept spun her around on
his back, while Galen tugged frantically at his pant's leg,
begging for his turn.  Mrs. Jenkins still sat, interminably rocking
and knitting, seemingly oblivious to the antics taking place before
her.  Bess was again on the phone, looking up guiltily as Pandora
and Nicholas came through the door, expecting her father.

"Adept," Pandora said softly, smiling in spite of herself at the sight of
him playing with the children.

The Gray Adept stopped abruptly at the sound of her voice, turning
towards her.  His face was slighly flushed from his boisterous activity,
his hair rumpled from Vivain's clutching hands.  He dropped the little
girl gently to the ground, despite her protests.

"Nicky!" Vivain cried, as she spotted the bard, running over to hug him.
Galen quickly followed suit, not wanting to be left out.

"Are you here to play, too?  We're having such fun!" Vivain asked, bouncing
on her heels.

"No, sweetie, I can't play now," Nicholas said apologetically.

"You never have time to play anymore," she pouted, her lower lip
trembling.  She rubbed her eyes with her fists.

"Bedtime, children," Mrs. Jenkins informed them from the corner.  "Say
goodnight, now."

"Nooo!" both twins cried in unison, tears rising in their eyes.  "We're
not tired!" they protested, although both were clearly very sleepy.

"I want a story.  From Pandora.  She promised," Vivain whined.

"I can't right now, love," Pandora said soothingly, kneeling to
hug the little girl.  "But you and Galen come over some night soon
for a sleepover, okay?"

"Really?" Vivain asked, her eyes shining.  "Tomorrow?"

"Soon," Pandora said.  "Now go on with Mrs. Jenkins to bed, there's a good
girl."

"'Night, Pandora," the little girl said, kissing Pandora on the cheek.
"'Night, Nicky," she waved at the bard.  "Good night, Mr. Adept.  Thanks
for the piggy-back ride," she finished shyly, before running to hide her
face in Mrs. Jenkins' skirts.  Galen was sitting on the floor, looking
as if he would burst into tears at any moment.

"Come Galen," Mrs. Jenkins said firmly.  The little boy got up unsteadily,
then turned and ran from the room.

"We are ready for you," Pandora addressed the Adept, her smile of
amusement fading.

He nodded gravely, seeing her distressed expression, noting the barely
contained anger on Nicholas's face.  He followed them from the living
room, straightening his rumpled jacket and tucking his shirt back
into the waist of his pants.

* * *

Date:         Thu, 20 Apr 1995 09:51:21 -0300
From:         Pandora 
Subject:      FLUFF:  Shades of Gray, Part 20

Shades of Gray, Part 20

* * *

c.  1995, A. Fraser, J. Gray, L.M. Wallace

{fraser@vax.library.utoronto.ca, jgra@music.stlawu.edu, wallacel@ac.dal.ca}

* * *

The Adept ran long fingers through his ruffled hair, attempting to
make himself presentable to the Brotherhood.  Neither Pandora nor
Nicholas had said a word to him since they had left the children.  He
knew that something was wrong and that new trials lay ahead in the
meeting room.  He had hoped for a few quick words with Pandora to assess
the general mood, but the presence of Nicholas, as well as a strange
distance in the healer, dismissed discussion as an option.  Tentatively,
he raised the odor of inquiry between them, but she turned away
from him, resisting his probing, sadness lining her face.  He
remembered all too well the icy non-talk with some of these men the day
before, waiting for Pandora to return from treating Genevieve.  What had
made her seem to suddenly turn as cold?

The Brotherhood was ominously silent, waiting for him to enter the room
and eyeing his every movement.  Many of these people he knew from
other occasions and, especially, the Handfasting of the summer before.
He smiled weakly at them in turn, but this was not a social occasion.
Some returned his smile with polite curiosity, others greeted him
with open distrust.

"Gray Adept?" Michael began, clearing his throat.  "On behalf of the
entire Brotherhood, I would like to welcome you to this emergency
meeting in these difficult times."

The Adept nodded his head vigorously.  "However I may be of assistance,
you can depend on me."

Nicholas snorted incredulously in the corner, but kept his gaze fixed on the
the Adept.  Michael shot him a warning glance, but not before the Baron
could ask, "Can we?"

Taking in their responses, the Adept shifted uncomfortably in his
chair.  He looked to Pandora for support, who met his eyes briefly
but then looked down at her hands, shaking her head slightly.  Her
expression was troubled, and he read confusion in those blue-gray
orbs, so like his own.  Turning back to Michael, he said "Yes" with a
simple bow of his head.

Michael crossed his arms and sighed heavily.  "As you can tell, Adept,
you are not much trusted here.  We know very little about you, and
for some people..." Michael looked pointedly at Nicholas "...that is
reason enough to doubt your intentions."

The Adept nodded again.  "There is very little I can tell you.  I
can only give you my word that I mean you no harm, and I would point out
that I have never before given offense or harm to any of your members."

"Except Genevieve," Nicholas muttered, but Pandora shushed him.

"Except, perhaps, Genevieve," Michael agreed.

"That was an unfortunate and unintended accident!"  The Adept almost let
the words carry him out of his seat.  "I meant Genevieve no harm and I
am here to do everything in my power to see that she recovers fully."


"But recovers from what?" the Baron huffed.  "That's what I'd like to
know."  His eyes never left the Adept, and there was a coldness in them
that was most unlike Gideon.

The Adept looked again to Pandora, who was watching him as expectantly
as the others.  He weighed his options carefully, nodding to himself as
he reached a decision.  "There are limits to what I can say, even in an
attempt to win your trust.  I am constrained, and the nature of that
constraint cannot easily be revealed.  But I will tell you this:
Genevieve is sick because she drank some of my blood before I could stop
her.  My blood is poison to your kind."  He winced at what he perceived
to be a betrayal.  Had he not just confessed to Genevieve that the fault
was his for not stopping her?

Alex wrinkled his slender nose and buried it in a monogrammed
handkerchief.  Gideon seemed similarly disturbed by this admission.
From her corner Pandora nodded, and her desire that he tell them more
hung palpably between them.  Many other eyebrows raised, some in shock,
some curious, some adding this new revelation to their reasons to
distrust him.

Michael, taken aback somewhat by this new information, asked,
"How...?" but could not finish the question.

"That is not important, for now."  The Adept was clearly agitated by
having to reveal even this much about himself.  He wanted to move on to
a new topic -- any topic -- as soon as possible.

The Baron took advantage of the confused silence to ask the questions
that had been burning in him for the past several minutes.  "Perhaps
Genevieve was an honest mistake.  Perhaps.  But what is this spying that
you do? And who do you spy for?"

The Adept turned slowly to the Baron, hoping that Michael would
interject and redirect the discussion.  When he did not, he answered
the Baron with a question of his own.  "Whom do you think I work for?
I mean, you sound as if you already have some idea."

"Very perceptive."  Gideon arched one eyebrow and put up a few more
guards against displaying his emotions so easily to this stranger.  "I
will cut to the heart of the matter, then.  What is your association
with Kent Ravensbrook?"  The tension in the room snapped with an almost
audible twang and all eyes focused on the Adept for every detail
of his tiniest reaction.

For one brief instant, The Adept seemed to shrink into himself,
revealing a much smaller, frailer being.  "Corbeau," he breathed, the
alias barely audible to the rest of the Brotherhood although they all
listened intently.

Recovering his composure, The Adept spoke to the assembly, avoiding the
man who had asked the question.  "I do not work for Ravensbrook.  I
have not seen him in many years...and I was under the impression that
he no longer walked the night."  Now he looked at Gideon.  "I am not
at liberty to share the details of my knowledge of him.  He was a
past informant for my work.  Nothing more."

The Baron did not seem entirely pleased with the answer.  One of the
Brotherhood, dressed entirely in black, seemed to recognize something
like integrity in the Adept's answer and nodded in response, smiling.
The Adept might have taken comfort in his supportive smile, but he was
too shaken by this turn of events.  His few meetings with Ravensbrook
had nearly cost him his life.  The wily vampire had tricked him into
indiscretions and almost trapped him.  The memories were painful and
long buried.  He hoped that no one, but especially those to whom he
occasionally made his reports, should ever learn that he had known
this particular villain.

Nicholas, who had been monitoring the entire exchange, took the
opportunity of the halt in conversation to ask a few questions of his
own.  "Yes?  Well maybe you can tell us a little more what your
interest is in us.  What do you want with Genevieve?  *And* my wife?
Why are you spying on *us*, Adept?"

"Nicholas!" Pandora said sternly, attempting to curtail what was
dangerously close to becoming a rant.

The Adept took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  "You seem to know
a lot about me.  Perhaps you have been doing some spying of your own."
On a guess, he affixed Michael with a glance brimming with significance.
"I study kindred and the people of the night.  I have done so for many
years, by *normal* standards.  In the beginning, I collected almost all
of my observations from the safety of anonymity.  Spying, as you call
it.  But there are limits to what one can discover that way.  I have
been...'participating' as well as observing, of late.  I find that I
learn much more that way.  Exponentially much more.  But there are
costs to this method, as well.  I find I come to...to care about the
people that I study."

As the Adept drifted into silent meditation, Pandora at last addressed
him.  "Have you been spying, uh, watching us without our knowledge,
Adept?"  Her eyes beseeched him, letting him know that she still wanted
to trust him, but also betraying her sense of hurt.

He looked up, grateful to meet her warm and familiar eyes.  "Yes,
Pandora.  I'd been in Fletcherville a few days before I finally sent
you that card.  Ever since I first called and talked to Nicholas.
Given his reaction to me, it seemed the right thing to do...at the
time."

Pandora's mask was replaced by one even more complex in its play of
forces and emotions.  She looked at Nicholas, and the Adept realized
he had come, again, between them.  Why did he tingle so at the idea?
Nicholas looked away, half in anger and half in embarrassment.

Michael recognized the need to get the meeting back on track.  "The point
is, Adept, no one likes to have people watching them without their
knowledge."

"The point is, Michael" The Adept answered, trying not to sound ominous
and failing in the effort, "whether you like it or not, you are being
watched.  By many more eyes than my own.  Constantly and always.  We
are all being watched.  Even I, and my past, seem to have been viewed
or otherwise delved into."

"Be that as it may--" Gideon began, but the Gray Adept was not
finished.

"It is as it is, Baron!" he stared every pair of eyes down, sitting
rigidly on the edge of his seat.  "Someone we all care about very much
is dying while we speak of trust and mistrust.  You will not trust me
until you know that you can.  But that doesn't stop that woman, that
truly magnificent creation of stars and cosmos, from burning out
before our eyes.  I cannot let that happen.  Can any of you?"

At last their faces showed consensus, although the Adept despaired that
the cause of their agreement was the suffering of a friend.  The
tensions still lurked, providing a rough substance to the gathering
like batting in a quilt.  So many mismatched pieces brought together in
Brotherhood, now finding unity again as they fought for their sister.
And perhaps, if the Adept's patterns seemed out of place, he yet still
might find harmony in the patchwork.

He took a deep breath and started again, this time without quite as much
snap.  He spoke each of their names, the ones he knew, in turn, looking
deep into their hearts so that they would know that he could.  "You are
all brave and strong people.  I envy you your Brotherhood.  Please,
if you cannot yet trust me, suspend your judgements, at least.  Watch
me carefully, if you must.  But let us turn to the most important
matter before us...and know that we *all* want the same thing."  He
looked at his hands in his lap and waited.

* * *

Date:         Sat, 22 Apr 1995 10:20:16 -0300
From:         Pandora 
Subject:      FLUFF:  Shades of Gray, Part 21

Shades of Gray, Part 21

c.  1995, A. Fraser, J. Gray, L. M. Wallace

* * *

Pandora cleared her throat and was the first to break the silence.
"I have been consulting with the Adept about Genevieve's case and
my difficulties in finding a successful treatment.  He has shared with
me his notes of similar past experiences.  Unfortunately, the chances
of success if we follow traditional means of healing are not good."

"What can we do?" the Baron asked, his reserve now replaced with blatant
concern.

Pandora looked uncertainly towards the Adept.  "Well," she began, "the
Gray Adept has a few ideas about that.  I think he can explain them
better."

The Adept rubbed his temples and sighed.  "Genevieve was poisoned by
me, it is true.  But her cure does not lie in removing the poison.
That has already been done, and expertly, I might add.  However, the
effect of the experience has put her between states of being and
non-being.  She must be reintegrated, so to speak.  And for that, she
will depend on us all."

Michael seemed to have caught the drift of the Adept's assessment.
"How do you mean?"

"Ritual, Michael," Pandora said softly.  The Adept nodded.

"What sort of ritual?" the Archdruid asked, his mind running through
a ready catalogue in his head.

"You are wise and experienced," the Adept answered.  "We will need that
wisdom.  But this can be no simple or singular ritual.  It must involve
us all and be from us all.  The elements of this ritual must come from
many sources, a combination of sorts.  It must be balanced between
our various traditions and the necessity of innovation that...new
meetings require."

"But Genevieve is neither Celtic nor...whatever you are." The man in
black stated, the first time the Adept had heard his voice. "How
can this ritual affect her if its parts are alien to her?"

"Alien parts can have great effects, uh--?" The Adept paused for the
man's name.

"Griffin.  Ray Griffin."  The man in black nodded in greeting.

"Well, Ray Griffin, you must take Genevieve back into your community.
And I must help you do that because, in a sense, I am the 'breach' that
caused this crisis.  The monster to be exorcized, I guess.  Physically,
she is still with you.  But on another plane she suffers, and we all
suffer with her.  What affects the part affects the whole.  Much as I
feel I should leave you to your opinions of me, to do so would be her
death I fear."  He paused before continuing, "And that I cannot allow."

"But what are we to *do*?" this concerned voice from Maggie.

"I imagine the bulk of this ritual will fall to Pandora and Michael...
and me," the Adept answered.  "The rest of you will find your places,
rest assured.  Attire yourself ceremonially, for a healing.  You will
know what that means.  And Nicholas?  We will need some help from
you, too.  How do you feel about the drums?"

"What?" Nicholas was startled out of a reverie by this request.
"Okay, I guess.  What are you getting at?"  He still eyed the Adept
with suspicion, but his posture reflected a slight relaxing of his earlier
distrust.

"The ritual traditions I know use music extensively, usually the beat
of drums.  Can you handle that?"  The Adept was beginning to realize
that he could use Nicholas's disfavor of him as much as any friendship.

"Certainly, Adept.  For Genevieve and...for Pandora, of course."  The
tension in his voice was back, but not as strong.

The Baron shifted uncomfortably, images of aborigines dancing
disturbingly in his head.  "Just what sort of ritual are we talking
about here?"

"A ritual of passage, Gideon."  The Adept leaned forward.  "Not unlike
the rites of passage so many cultures perform for their adolescents
coming of age.  But in this case we are not ushering Genevieve into
adulthood, but back into health.  The details are still to be agreed
upon, but this is the sum of it.  Or, at least, it is the best course
of action I can offer."

"It is the best way," Pandora agreed.

"You're sure it will work?" the Baron asked.

Pandora and the Adept locked eyes.  Without breaking the contact,
The Adept said, "We're not sure what will happen..."

"...but it's the best chance Genevieve's got." Pandora finished,
turning to look around the room.

The Baron's eyes widened slightly.  "If you really feel that Genevieve
will benefit...."  He rubbed his eyelids, thinking of his mentor, his
"mother."  She had saved his life.  Twice.  The least he could do was
cooperate to save hers--if it worked.  "Yes, all right," he murmured.

Michael cleared his throat.  "Well.  You've certainly given us a lot
to think about.  I guess we need to talk a bit more about everything
you've told us.  If you will excuse us.  Pandora, will you show the
Adept back to the livingroom?"

"Thank you, Michael," the Adept nodded weakly.  He looked around the
room and saw that there was a change in the faces that met his, but he
wasn't clear that the change was positive.  Pandora rose and gestured
for him to follow her out of the room.

"I'll come with--" Nicholas began, only to be stopped by Pandora's
outstretched hand.

"No, Nicholas.  That won't be necessary.  You stay here and speak with
the rest of the Brotherhood.  I will be right back, love."  She smiled
warmly at him and this time he yielded willingly to her desire.

In the hall, the Adept did not wait long to speak with Pandora.  "That
went well, I guess."  He winced at his own irony.

"Mmmm," she answered, absently.

"I'm sorry, Pandora.  About the spying."  He wondered if that were
truly the reason for her change in attitude towards him.

Pandora gave him a weak smile.  "I think I understand," she said
slowly, "although I wished you had felt you could have come forward.
Especially..." she trailed off, hugging her arms to her chest and
shuddering slightly.  She met his eyes, her gaze searching, as if she
could find the  answers she needed there.  But what she saw were yet
more questions. "You must understand, Adept," she began quietly, "These
are my friends...my family.  I have loyalties here as well.  It doesn't
mean I...I, well, I still believe in you.  Still believe in what
we must do to help Genevieve."

"We must speak further, Pandora."

"Yes.  I know," she said simply, "but I can't right now. I need to be back
with the Brotherhood.  Make yourself comfortable."  She turned to leave
him with the books and the fireplace in the livingroom.

"Later, then.  Tonight.  The beach?"  Between them hung the soft murmur
of sea pebbles and moonlight.

Pandora turned towards him and it seemed as if she were about to say
something.  But she closed her mouth, as if thinking better of whatever
was was on her mind and, nodding curtly, turned back to the meeting.  As
the Adept watched her go he felt abandoned and alone.  And strangely,
when intimidation and frustration should have been at the forefront of
his experience, he felt overwhelming desire--desire for the wonderful
healing woman, Pandora.  Rather than question these odd, irrational
feelings, he let himself descend into their comforting depths, a warm
refuge from the pains and apprehensions that permeated the rest of the
house.

* * *

Pandora walked slowly back towards the meeting room, still holding
herself as if she could find comfort from her own arms.  She hesitated
at the door and looked back in the direction of the Fairlawn's livingroom,
feeling an empathic pull towards the man she had left there, similar to
that which she had experienced in the car with him the other night.  A
shiver ran up her spine, laced with desire, touched by fear.  She found
herself suddenly wishing she were far away, that she could run away from
the confusion and doubt, from the suspicion and accusation she saw lately
whenever she looked in Nicholas's eyes, from the probing glances of
the other members of the Brotherhood, from the demands on her energy
and her expertise.  And the Adept...from him she felt the strongest
and the strangest demand.  He had taken her into his confidence and
she must continue to prove to him that he had not made a mistake.  But
why her?

She leaned her forehead against the door and closed her eyes tightly,
flashes of memory lighting the inside of her eyelids.  Purple silhouettes
of that netherworld in which they had found themselves at the Winterfest
danced in her mind as the two figures danced in that landscape, drawn
together inexplicably and irrevocably through no designs of their own.
She saw him then as he had shown himself to her, his true self, the mask
peeled away.  What did this all mean?  If only...but she shook her head and
straightened her back.  The more she pondered it, the further the thoughts
and questions circled in her mind, drawn into an endless spiral with no
beginning or end.  Taking a deep breath she placed her hand on the doorknob
and re-entered the meeting room.

Inside, Michael, Nicholas and Maggie, the three Druids, were engaged
in a hushed conversation, while the other members of the Brotherhood
talked amongst themselves.  As Pandora made her way back to her place
at the table she was stopped by Ray Griffin's hand on her arm.

"Pandora?" he said, his deep voice subdued for only her ears.  "Just
let me know how I can help and I'll be there."

Startled, Pandora turned towards the voice, meeting his penetrating
gaze.  Her face softened as she smiled, laying a hand over his and
squeezing gently.  "Thank you, Ray.  That means a lot."

He nodded and returned the pressure of her hand before taking his own
away.  "He's okay.  He deserves a chance.  It's not always easy..."
he trailed off, but conveyed his meaning with a sweep of his eyes
around the room.

"I know," Pandora said softly, nodding.  She did know how protective
the Brotherhood was of its own and that protectiveness could easily
translate into distrust of strangers.  It was understandable, considering
what they had been through over the years, the number of times they had
been threatened both collectively and as individuals.  Pandora had
never felt anything but welcomed, but that sense of history and
companionship formed a bond which went very deep, indeed.  "I know,"
she repeated as she left him.

The room fell silent as Pandora took her seat and all eyes turned
expectantly to Michael.  The Archdruid looked tired, signs of weariness
and deep concern were etched into the lines of his face.

"It is my opinion," he began, looking slowly around the room, "that
the ritual of which the Gray Adept and Pandora speak is of the utmost
importance now.  Genevieve's life is at stake and that must be the only
thing on which we focus our energies at this time.  While there are
still many questions, bear in mind that answers may be found as we
work together for a common purpose.  I believe the Adept is sincere
in his concern for Genevieve and that he has displayed true compassion
here tonight."  He paused and turned towards Pandora who was watching
him with cautious hope.  "It is clear that Pandora trusts him in
this matter, despite all that she has heard here tonight.  It is
also clear that she feels a certain loyalty to this man and, while
we may wonder at the reasons, she is a trusted member whose opinion
I value."

Pandora said nothing, but her expression conveyed her gratitude.  The
other members remained quiet, silently appraising both her and
Michael.  Maggie and Ray nodded their heads in agreement.  Nicholas,
his head bowed, placed his hand on Pandora's thigh and squeezed gently.
She covered his hand with her own and held it tightly, blinking
back the sudden prick of tears.

"If no one has anything further to say, then I suggest we close the
meeting," Michael said.  "I'd like to meet with Pandora privately
to discuss the ritual and we will report back to you as soon as
possible. Are we agreed?"

All heads nodded. The Baron, Mitch and Evan were the first to rise,
anxious to return to Oakwoods. The others soon followed,
talking quietly amongst themselves, leaving by the outside exit.

"Tomorrow night, Niamh?" Michael said quietly.  "I need some time
to think."

"That would be fine, Tadg," Pandora smiled.  "Nevyan?" she turned
to her husband.

The bard nodded then looked at his watch.  "I'd better run you home
now, love.  But I'm going to be late for the club as it is," he
finished, rising.

The three made their way back to the living room, where the Gray
Adept sat anxiously waiting.  He rose as they entered, scanning
each of their faces for any indication of what was to come.

"I wish to speak with Pandora tomorrow night, about this ritual,"
Michael informed him.  "Then we will call upon your...expertise.
Will that be acceptable?"

"Yes.  Yes, that will be fine," the Adept responded, looking
somewhat relieved.  He glanced questioningly over at Pandora who was
putting on her cloak.  Their eyes met and she nodded slightly in
response.

"Goodnight, Tadg," she said, kissing the Druid on the cheek.  "I'll
see you tomorrow."

"Until tomorrow," he responded, following his guests to the door.

"Village?" Nicholas addressed the Adept as they walked to the car.

"Er, yes, that would be fine," he responded, stealing another glance
at Pandora.  Again, she nodded slightly as she met his eyes, only
to find Nicholas watching them when she looked away.  She quickly
got in the car, hiding the sudden flush that came into her face.

* * *


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