Date:         Mon, 15 Aug 1994 18:11:05 EST
Subject:      Fluff: The Joshua Chronicles, part 2

At long last, part two appears.  My apologies for the delay, and I ask
you to remember that this is shared fluff.  This is actually the first
half of part two, part 2B (or not...) will follow by the end of the week
(I hope).  This is a joint effort between myself and Evighet, who you
may recall as the one who forcibly met Gideon at the Equinox party.
*grin*
Enjoy!
Sincerely, Joshua
___________________________________________________________________

 Evighet wandered slowly through the outer gallery of Christie's
 New York auction house, only glancing at the art works installed
 there.  They were meant as a lure, to bring in more buyers and
 higher prices, but she didn't care.  She already knew the pieces
 she was going to acquire for the Museum, and she knew she'd have
 no real problem getting them.  Besides, the people were far more
 interesting at the moment.

 A short distance away a plump woman wrapped in skin tight black
 silk stood trying to get her lover to buy her the "cute little
 picture" on the wall.  Evighet wondered if she'd ever heard of
 the name Waterhouse.  Probably not.  She probably thought Pre-
 Raphaelite was a time before the Teenage Mutant Ninja turtles.

 To her left a man, decked out in a Santini original, held a heated
 argument with a cellular phone over the best profit to be made
 purchasing one ancient vase over another.

 And beyond him...Evighet stopped.  The man in the corner stood
 quietly studying the merits of a piece of Elizabethan furniture.
 Tall and lean, with sandy hair and an air of gentle self-assurance,
 he stood out in the crowd.  At least to her he did.  Curious, she
 quickly crossed the room and quietly came up behind him.

 "Joshua?"

 Joshua turned from his contemplation of the bulbous-legged table and
 smiled down at the 5'4" woman in the emerald green business suit.  He'd
 last seen this same woman slam-dunked into the back of Gideon's head,
 but tonight she had her feet on the ground.

 "Evi--" he began, but she quickly put a finger to her lips.

 "Just Ev," she smiled.  "Here, I'm just Ev.  How are you?  More
 importantly, how's the Baron?"

 "He's just fine," Joshua laughed softly.  "He hasn't had anyone thrown
 at him lately.  Prudence," he teased her.

 She winced.  "Of all the unlikely names..."  She shook her dark blond
 hair.  "So, what are you doing at Christie's?"

 "I'm looking for antiques for a client," Josh replied.  "I'm on
 commission to buy furnishings for her new condo."

 Evighet raised her eyebrows as she looked around at the well-heeled
 crowd.  Bidding would go high for good items tonight, she could feel it.
 "There are cheaper places to look," she pointed out.

 "Mrs. Sims-Jones doesn't care about price tags," Joshua replied.
 "Besides, I really don't know where to look for the items she wants.  I
 think I'm on a wild goose chase, and I'm the goose."

 "What does she want?" Evighet wanted to know.

 He told her.

 "Haunted?!", she mimicked in disbelief, "You're kidding.  What would
 anyone short of a mage or occultist possibly want with something like
 that?"

"Mrs. Sims-Jones likes the unusual," Josha replied.  "I think she wants
to have her Society friends over and point out a walnut what-not,
telling them that it's possessed by the spirit of George Washington."
He sighed.  "I don't know whether I'm more worried that I won't get her
what she wants, or that I will.  She doesn't have any occult powers that
 I'm aware of."

"She ought to be careful about what she requests, then," said Evighet
thoughtfully.  "Will _you_ be able to recognize what you're looking for?"

"There's an off-hand chance..." Joshua began, noticing the look of
concern in her eyes.  He didn't get a chance to ask her about it, as
they were interrupted by a gentleman in black announcing the start of
the auction.

As they entered the auditorium Evighet thought of how much Joshua
reminded her of Erik. She could feel herself warming to him in a
way she had never expected.  She also found herself worrying about
him.

"What did you mean about an off-hand chance?" She whispered as she
and Joshua took their seats with the other would-be purchasers.

"I'm slightly psychic," Josh admitted, grinning at her widened eyes.
"Nothing major, I can't see the future or anything like that, but I can
sense the occult sometimes.  I can see ghosts, for example, which comes
in handy when Cecily drops by."

"Especially if there's blood-tainted booze nearby," Evighet laughed as she
remembered back to certain tipsy ghost a recent party and her
sword-brandishing adventures.


The auction began.  Joshua carefully scrutinized each piece up for bids,
both waiting for his unreliable sensitivity to tell him something and
keeping a couple of other clients in mind.  Evighet was waiting for two
of the Greek vases and an early Papal manuscript to come on the block.
As they came up, she bid fiercely on them, enjoying the challenge of the
bidding much more than actually acquiring them.  As money was really no
object, both vases, the first depicting heracles at his labors and the
second showing a battle at the gates of Troy, were soon hers.  A
librarian with shaggy grey hair, a beard and a reddened nose from too
many two-hour lunches in a student pub gave her a hard fight over the
manuscript, but Evighet eventually won out.  Bored now, she only half
listened as the auction continued.

"And the next item here today is this exquisite 18th century corner
cupboard......"

The piece was auite astonishing, with inlaid strips of wood, standing on
enameled bronze legs.  It stood over nine feet tall, including the
exquisite clock that topped it.  Cherubs played across the lower shelf,
and the upper one bore two candle sconces in the shape of flowers.

To Evighet, the smell of blood and power was mesmerising.  It was ancient,
but still potent, and it was coming from the cupboard.

"Joshua".  Laying her hand on his arm she never took her eyes off
the cupboard.  "Bid on it."

He blinked in surprise, for he sensed nothing from the cupboard, but he
placed a bid on it.  It was raised, and Joshua felt the keen enjoyment
of competition.  He topped the second bid by an amount meant to be
enticing rather than crushing, and wasn't surprised when his own bid was
bettered.  There seemed to be only one other person in the running for
the cupboard, which was a little surprising, but the reserve was out of
most peoples' range.  Hoping that Mrs. Sims-Jones wasn't kidding when
she promised more funds, Joshua bid higher.  And was immediately
outbidden.  He turned his head slightly to see a man several rows back
just sitting down.  He looked like a fairly ordinary man in his late
thirties, blond and bearded, dressed in a good business suit that fit
well.  Lots of money, obviously.

"Sir?" the auctioneer was looking pointedly at Joshua.

He topped the last bid by a thousand.  The bearded man bid another two.
In the selling room, the crowd sensed a good fight and sat hushed, more
reverant than they would be in church.  Evighet was looking at Joshua
with real concern now, but he gave her a reassuring wink and bid again.
The blond bearded one shook his head violently when the auctioneer
looked at him.

"No other bids?" asked the auctioneer.  "Yours, then, sir."  He nodded
to Joshua as the audience applauded politely.

When the sale was finally over, Evighet accompanied Joshua back into the
bowels of Christie's to see their purchases safely packaged for
delivery.  The cupboard was just being carefully crated, and Joshua gave
them the address and phone number of where to send it.

"Wonder what it was you felt," he murmured to Evighet.

"Power," she said.  "That cupboard's been used for blood magic.  It
leaves a taint that never comes out."  She touched his arm again.
"Isn't that the man that was bidding against you?"

The blond man with the Jack Cassidy beard was arguing with one of the
shippers on the dock at Christie's.  Arguing and pointing at the crated
corner cupboard.  Joshua walked over to find out what was going on.

"What seems to be--"

The bearded man turned on him, swinging a fist so quickly that Joshua
didn't see it coming.

The crack! sounded across the loading dock as he was thrown to the
ground.

"Joshua!"

Moving with unnatural speed Evighet was at his side in a moment,
taking in the bloodied lip and the slightly dazed expression.  Relief
washed over her.  He would be alright.  As her hand moved down his
check her anger grew. His attacker wouldn't be so lucky.

She didn't give him time to react.  She didn't care if he knew what
she was, so much the better.  Let him know what was going to take
his little life.  Spinning around she rose, her hand flashing out
to wrap around the bearded man's throat.  In the next instant she
found a blackness wrapped around her, causing pain and draining her
strength.
_________

Any complaints, comments or e-brownies may be sent to the Fluffmaster at:
fraser@vax.library.utoronto.ca, who will pass them on to the fluffsters
involved.
It's never too late to join the story!

Date:         Wed, 7 Sep 1994 19:53:20 EST
Subject:      Fluff: The Joshua Chronicles, part 2B

Ahem.  One red-faced breather here, apologizing for the long delay in
bringing you episodes of my foray out into the world of antiques and the
occult.  I hope you enjoy it, however late it is!
Joshua
__________________________________________________________

Steph wandered the back streets of one of the wealthier financial
districts of New York City, contemplating her current hunger and
just what she was going to do about it.  She wished that she hadn't
been chased out of her domain in Boston, but what was she to do
when faced with two magic-backed street gangs on bloodhunts for her?

She made a dive for the nearest shadows as she heard the arguing
begin and felt an immediate 'power' build-up somewhere in her vicinity.
At first she thought that the hunters had found her again, but then she
noticed the difference--even the most powerful of her adversaries didn't
have the 'control' or sheer 'age' she felt in this field.

After a few moments of contemplation, she allowed her youthful
curiosity to override even her hunger and the terror that remembering
her last night in Boston had revived.  She crept forward between
the narrow walled alleyways towards the dimly lit loading dock
at the back of Christie's.  From a well hidden nich in a nearby
wall she observed the progression of an argument between an
overly dressed man and one of the dockworkers.  From what she could
understand of their conversation, she realized that the 'suit' was
trying to pay off the worker to 'lose' the crate he was trying too
load.

*Just another case of urban corruption*, she thought with the
feline equivalent of a shrug.

But then another 'suit' appeared to question the first and Steph
settled in expecting a 'street comedy' as the two suits debated money
and lies -- but what she saw was something utterly different.  Without so
much as a word of introduction the first 'suit' struck the second.
Steph growled under her breath at the audacity of his uncultured,
cowardly attack.

*After all*, she thought, *from what I've seen, even the least of
feline combat is an structured and honorable duel, not this
unhonorable brawl*.

Her anger continued to grow as she saw a woman appear by the
fallen one's side, attempting to aid him only to be blasted by
some sort of magical attack.

Howling her rage Steph leapt at the antagonist, unconsiously
shapeshifting to crinos (wereform) in mid flight. The 'suit' saw
her out of the corner of his eye but misjudged her true nature and
merely tried to bat her away with one hand.  This was his undoing for
the impact of theyoung werecat sent him flying against the wall with
his suit shredded and bloody from her claws.  Staggering backwards
and seeing that his other two opponents were recovering, he dodged
into the shadows to be quickly swallowed up by the night.

Now that the excitement was over, however, Steph felt her                      `
vulnerability out in the open.  Unconcously shape-shifting to her
human form she turned towards the remaining two occupants of the alley
and slowly backed away with her hands held ready to defend herself from
any attacks.

**************************************************************************

Joshua sat up, gingerly touching his bleeding lip with his fignertips.

"Ow," he said.  "He hit me."  Concious of uttering the same thing that
was said by everyone clobbered unexpectedly, he looked around for
Evighet.

She was slowly sinking to the floor, her expression blank, while the
bearded man glared at her.

Magic.  Joshua could dimly feel the power.  The man with the beard was a
mage or a sorcerer, and not one of the CotN.  Joshua looked around
frantically for some means to distract this new enemy in order to save
Evighet.  The shipping clerks had all fled for cover.  There'd be time
later to worry about his reputation at Christie's, Josh reflected.  Even
as his hand closed around a hammer used to nail crates shut, a demented
alley cat sprang at the bearded stranger.  In a display of frantic
feline frenzy, the cat tore at the stunned mage until he turned and ran,
dripping blood in his wake.

Dropping the hammer, Joshua ran to Evighet's side.  She was just opening
her eyes and trying to sit up.

"Who _was_ that guy?" she asked.  "And what chased him off?"

"The alley cat from Hell," Joshua replied, pointing in the direction of
the puglistic pussycat.

He found himself pointing at wild-eyed young woman in torn jeans and an
equally disshelved T-shirt, who was crouching on her haunches like a
frightened cat.

"A werecat!" Evighet exclaimed. "We do seem to attract an unusual
type of people..."

The woman shrank further back, looking for an escape route.

"It's okay," Joshua called out to her.  "We won't hurt you.  You helped
us against ... whoever that was."  He felt his lip again.

"Don't keep touching it!" Evighet chided him.  Her own recouperating
powers had already let her recover from the sorcerous attack on her.
She'd love to go after the magic user and try for a rematch, but
she wasn't about to leave Joshua. "We are glad you're here," she
said, looking over at the werecat.  "Don't be afraid of us.  What's
your name? (Friendliness was something she'd definately have to work
on)

"Steph," the woman replied, uncrouching ever so slightly in a movement
that was uncertain and sinuous at the same time.

"Hi, Steph," Josh smiled, then winced.  "I'm Joshua, and this is Ev.
Perhaps we should go somewhere that we can talk."

The Christie's staff were beginning to return to the shipping room,
looking around to see what damage had been done in the fight.  Other
than a misplaced hammer, Josh's lip, and a few specks of blood the
fleeing mage had shed, there was no physical evidence of the encounter.

Evighet turned toward the staff, a slight suggestion took care of what
they did and did not notice.  They still saw the blood, they simply
didn't care.  Not a hard thing to do in New York.

 "Anything else you need to take care of Joshua?"  Joshua shook his
head slowly, "Then let's get out of here."

Taking his hand she led him and Steph to a rented limo around the
corner...

They adjourned to an all-night restaurant, where they quietly talked
over the auction and the subsequent events.  Steph, reassured that these
two people meant her no harm, began to relax and told the them how she
had seen the brief struggle in the loading dock.  Unsure how far to
trust them, she told them nothing of her own background.  Joshua was a
very open person in some regards, but understood his new friend's
reticence.  Neither he nor Evighet volunteered much about themselves,
either.

Since she seemed so alone, however, Evighet did tell Steph a little
about the CotN, dropping hints that she should seek out the help of
those who understood her special talents and could help her develop
them, as well as offering some protection from enemies.

When Steph had absorbed this information and nodded her comprehension,
Evighet glanced at the clock on the far wall of the restaurant.

"It's getting late, and I have to get back to West Coast before the
sun comes up.  Where are you off to Joshua?"  she smiled at him.

"Funnily enough, the West Coast," he grinned back.  "I wanted to go
surprise Azh and see if she's got anything unusual in her shop."

"Then come with me," Evighet urged him.  "We'll take the red-eye, and
we can talk.  Did you ever hear about Daes's first party?."  As he
shook his head she mumbled softly, "you will...", and turned to their
rescuer. "Is there anywhere we can drop you Steph?"

She looked uncertain.  "I don't really know..." she said.  "Do you think
there's anyone who can help me?"

Joshua looked at Evighet, then back at Steph.  "Maybe I could call
Samantha," he suggested, retreiving his cellular phone from his
briefcase.  "Too Yuppy," he grinned at Evighet, "but indispensible, in
my line."

He dialled a number in Atlantic Canada.  "Sammie?  It's Joshua.  No, I'm
fine.  Everyone's fine, as far as I know.  I'm in New York, and I think
there's soembody here you should meet, and speak to."  He quickly filled
in the vampiric cat on the situation with Steph, and Samantha agreed to
arrive ASAP in New York.

Five minutes later, she walked through the door of the restaurant.

"I thought you said she lived in Canada," Steph said, turning wide eyes
on Joshua.

"She does," he grinned.  "Over here, Samantha."

She arrived at the table, and sat down for a serious talk with Steph.

"We have to go, or we'll miss our plane," Evighet said to Joshua.
"Steph, I think we're leaving you in good hands?"

"Yes, thank you," the little were-cat replied.  "I hope I will see you
again soon."

"I hope so, too," Joshua smiled.  "Sammie, you take good care of her,
you hear?"

"I won't feed her to the Wulf Pack, Uncle Josh," Samantha replied with a
grin.

Evighet and Joshua said goodbye, then were whisked away in the limo.
They stopped briefly to pick up Joshua's things and let him check out of
his hotel, then rushed to the airport on time to make the red-eye
connection to Los Angeles and San Franscisco.
________
This is shared fluff, brought to you by the co-operative efforts of
Evighet, Nightshine/Steph, and Samantha, the Vampiric Cat.  And, of
course...

The Fluffmaster
fraser@vax.library.utoronto.ca


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