ForevaXena's FanFic . . .

I've Seen The Light And It's Dark

by J Falconer

Disclaimer: Xena, Gabrielle etc belong to MCA/Universal and Ren Pics, and anyone else who has an interest in Xena Warrior Princess, not me.

Copyright© 2001: The characters in here belong to me. All rights reserved. No part or whole of this work may be copied or used in any shape, form, or manner whatsoever without the author's express written consent. If you want to use them, all you have to do is ask … nicely.

Violence disclaimer: Yes, there is violence, so if you’re sensitive to that sort of thing, perhaps you’d like to move on.

Love/Sex warning: This story depicts a love/sexual relationship between two consenting adult women. If you are under 18 years of age or if this type of story is illegal in the state or country in which you live - move along, move along, nothing for you here ...

Part 1

Her name was Jacqueline, Jackie she preferred to be called. I lay stretched out on her bed next to her, watching her sleep.

Darkness was no barrier to my keen eyesight, and with my head propped comfortably on my hand I watched the soft rise and fall of her chest.

The curtains stirred gently in the soft, night wind, and she snorted and rolled over as I reached out and ran my finger down her straight nose.

She’d been living in my house for six months now, and it had been nothing but a game of cat and mouse for us both.

I’d done the usual poltergeist type things of moving her personal possessions around, rearranged her wardrobe and generally made her life miserable. She screamed at me, using language that would have left a sailor cringing, often leaving me honestly wondering if half her suggestions were physically possible. I had only ever heard the equivalent when my young teenage friend Matthew had been living here almost twenty years ago.

Matthew. The memory of him brought a soft smile to my face. His entire family had moved in about twenty five years ago, and I had started off by making their lives a true misery on earth, but that had not lasted long. Matthew had thought I was the finest thing ever to come with a human dwelling, and had proceeded to make friends with me about three months after they’d moved in.

The day they left there were tears on both sides, and Matthew made good on his promise to visit me for as long as he lived. That had only been about ten years after I’d first met him – he’d been the victim of a drunk driver.

I had not seen him at all after his untimely demise, but then I had not really expected to. I had come to think that one truly had to have been a foul being to remain behind on this earth, locked in supernatural misery.

I withdrew from the mists of memory, and the soft smile that had graced my face at my thoughts of Matthew slowly vanished as I again quietly studied my new prey.

Jackie.

I must say it’s amazing how normal mortals love their warm showers on cold winter’s mornings – we had no such coddling in my day!

Jackie was learning to live without the creature comforts.

Next to me she stirred again, and I leant over curiously as her head began to move on the pillow.

“No.” Her voice was soft and pleading, miserable. “Please don’t. I promise I won’t do it again.”

Struck, I leant over and studied her more closely.

Her brow was furrowed as she frowned deeply, her face a mask of dismay. There was no childishness in her voice as there would have been if she were back in her early years. A beautiful woman still held residence in her body, and now she began to twist that body, pleading and moaning for her invisible assailant to leave her in peace.

I had seen that look before.

I did not like it.

To be brutally honest, I’d learned to hate it.

I gently leaned over and willed my hand not to fade into her brow as I smoothed back her hair.

“Quiet now, Sweetling. You are unharmed. You are safe.” My gentle pleas began to have the desired effect and slowly she quietened under my soft touch.

I loathed hearing a woman beg. I did not want to see my young playmate harmed by any hand other than mine, and mine I knew could and would be gentle with her.

Slowly her chest moved back into the rhythms of deep sleep and I stayed with her until dawn lit up the sky in a soft, pink glow. It was time for her to start the day.

I faded into invisibility again as she began to stir. I remained behind watching her.

It had become a morning ritual for me, to see her slowly stir and sit up, stretching and yawning mightily, staring with eyes slightly unfocussed before her, trying to encourage her sluggish mind into action.

She always looked around the room, eyebrow slightly raised, and if she’d had nightmares such as the one that had just graced her, a haunted look soon followed, quickly to be replaced by a grim determination that was almost frightening in it’s depth.

I wondered if I was doing any good at chasing the shadows away from her.

“I know you’re here.” The voice was soft, free of its normal anger.

My eyebrows shot skyward with shock. How could she know that? She could not see or hear me, I’d made certain of it.

“Really, now, Sweetling?” I could not keep the smug superiority from my tone. “Really? You can’t see or hear me, I’ve made sure of that.”

Still her eyes searched the room, seeking me out as I teased her with my lack of solidity. She need not have searched the far corners of the room; I was right by her side, only a hair’s breadth from her luscious form.

“I know you’re here. I can feel it. Why don’t you at least show yourself, ever?” Her eyes lost some of their sharpness as her shoulders sagged. “That was an absolute whopper of a nightmare and you chased it away for me.” A soft inhalation, and her small hands covered her face, then slowly came away as tears glistened in her eyes. “You chased away the shadows just like you always do. I’m not stupid, I know what you’re doing for me. But why? And why are you so fucking obnoxious the rest of the time?”

I grinned. “I’m a ghost and obnoxiousness goes with the territory. As for the other … well, let us just say that we hunt one another and I’ll not take kindly to anyone trying to rob me of that small joy.” I leant over and blew a cold breath across her partially covered cleavage, followed by an extra cold finger dipping between her beautiful breasts.

She had still been searching me out, unable to find a glimmer of me, but when the wind and finger touched her, she yelped and pulled her nightgown shut, scowling fiercely at thin air.

“You’re a fucking rat, you know that, Captain?”

She always called me Captain, lacking any other information on me. I had been such a scourge to these parts that the inhabitants had been careful to erase all traces of me from public record and later generations had not known to question what had become of the monster.

I laughed. How could I have not known of my rodent ancestry?

Suddenly her eyes narrowed to a gleam I didn’t like one bit.

“Captain, I will find you. I’ll make you show yourself.” With a purposeful nod of her head, still clutching her gown closed in front of her, she climbed out of bed with renewed vigour, and strode out of the room with uncharacteristic energy to her kitchen.

I lay back on her bed with my hands clasped behind my head.

Was it to be an excorcism?

Was it to be a séance?

What would she do to flush me from my hiding place?

Ah, the games were afoot again!

~~~

After the summary aggravation of a cold shower (thoughtfully begun much earlier than normal by me), and heavily salted black coffee (again, a small courtesy provided by me), she left the house for several hours.

I sat by myself in the silence, looking at my telescope.

I often used it to track her progress down the hill to the village and beyond. Sometimes I could not look out the bay window as the pain of my confinement was too much to bear. I was restless, seeking relief. I had not felt this way since my time with Matthew. When he had died I had been seized by the strongest desire I had ever had to escape my shackles, and that experiment had lead me to try and walk out the front door.

That was not something I had done since I had first learnt the limits of my supernatural existence.

The very first time was an experience in pure agony and such a drain of energy it took me months to recover.

The first step out the door was greeted with a soft, summer wind that gradually and exponentially gained in strength and ferocity so that I could feel the molecules of my new existence tearing apart.

Almost flayed alive, I stumbled backwards and collapsed in the foyer, causing a cold spot that had lasted for almost fifty years until I’d been able to gather the strength to pull myself into the parlour to try and regroup. I’d sat there for a further ten until I was able to walk, then lay down for twenty years in the attic, trying to recover.

I looked out at the calm blue sea for several hours, waiting for her return.

I was not idle during that time – I took extra special care to substitute the contents of her refrigerator with the contents of her wardrobe.

I watched her car make its slow way up the road towards the house, and I could just make out two figures.

Eyes narrowing in suspicion, I watched her pull into the driveway, triumphantly open her door, and a large brown figure leapt out of the car to scent the air with grave intent.

I scowled.

Jackie smirked.

She strode up to the door and flung it open with a quick command for her canine companion to join her.

Madame did so, and immediately zeroed in on me, and began a bout of vicious, ear piercing barking.

I glared and crouched so we were face to face, and growled back as fiercely at her as she snarled at me.

This only appeared to provoke Her Highness into something approaching murderous intent, and she lunged for me. I took an involuntary step back and sighed in defeat. Crossing my arms, I stared at her and wondered what to do with the nice doggy.

Jackie leant in the doorway, arms crossed, smug smile seemingly glued to her features. She followed the direction the dog was barking in and cleared her throat.

“Good girl, Helga!” The Doberman took a step back toward her new mistress. “So.” Jackie smirked and studied her fingernails. “You going to show yourself, or is Helga going to chase your invisible arse all over this house until you’re bloody sick of both of us?”

I laughed. She’d finally caught me – and in a way not one of the other people who’d ever owned this house had been able to. I slowly willed myself into existence, making sure I was several inches shorter than I’d been in real life, so I was only half a head taller than her. I leaned comfortably in the doorway, matching her confident arrogance.

“Sweetling, my name is not Captain, it’s Creed and you may address me as such. Call your hound off.”

Her eyes widened at the sight of me, and her jaw dropped. “You’re the ghost who haunts this house?”

I bowed low, smiling, eyes flashing. “None other.” I took a step towards Helga who resumed her low challenge. “Down girl.” There was no change in tempo. “I said, ‘down girl’.” There was a whimper as I have her a small sample of what I was capable of. “Now, Sweetling, you have met me. Is it enough for you?”

“No, Creed, it’s not enough.”

There was silence for a moment. “And?”

“Why the hell don’t you leave for God’s sake? Go to the hereafter or something will you? Leave me alone.”

“To coin a phrase of yours, ‘not bloody likely’.”

She sighed and shook her head. “I’m not afraid of you. You’re not the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.” She threw up her hands. “Why not just talk to me and stop being so darned nasty? It won’t kill you you know.”

I laughed. “Why should I be nice to you? Curiosity is killing me my dear.”

“Careful, you’re going to kill yourself if you keep laughing like that.” She stared at me, seemingly unable to draw her eyes from my still form. “Can’t we at least call a truce?”

“No, Sweetling, that we cannot.” With my most theatrical flourish, I waved an arm and vanished, making certain I reappeared in my attic.

Downstairs I heard silence for a time, then a cry of anger as she opened her fridge.

Part 2

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