Wednesday, August 19, 2009

"The Corellian Connection" [PG-13] - Prologue



Here is a sequel to my first SW story - "Altered Lives":


"THE CORELLIAN CONNECTION"

RATING: [PG-13]
SUMMARY: A message between Bail Organa and a fugitive senator sets in motion, changes for Anakin, Padme and another familiar character.
FEEDBACK: Be my guest - deerush76@yahoo.com. But please, be kind.
DISCLAIMER: All characters and things STAR WARS belong to Lucasfilm. All non-original dialogue in this story is credited to "Revenge of the Sith", which is based upon the story and screenplay by George Lucas. The characters, Romulus Wort aka Darth Rasche, Voranda Sen and Thalia Yeb are my creation.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is the second in a series of five stories set between ROTS and ANH. Also, this particular story is more or less an Alternate Universe story set nine months, following "Altered Lives"


--------

PROLOGUE

18 BBY - AMIR, ANDALIA

The Imperial shuttle entered Andalia's atmosphere, before it smoothly made its descent upon the planet's capital, Amir. The young Sith Lord, Darth Rasche, stared through the shuttle's cockpit window and saw a delegation of officials gathered on a nearby landing platform.

Rasche stood up and made his way to the other end of the shuttle, where four platoons of clonetroopers sat. "Men, we're now approaching Andalia. Get ready." The troopers nodded.

Minutes passed before the shuttle finally settled upon the landing platform. The shuttle doors opened, as the boarding ramp extended outward. Rasche took a deep breath and stiffly marched down the ramp. The four platoons marched close behind him. A light-brown skinned Andalian man, covered in a deep teal robe, stepped forward to greet the Imperial visitors. "Good day, um . . .?"

"Darth Rasche," the Sith Lord coolly finished. "I'm here as a liasion of the Imperial Senate."

The Andalian's eyes flew wide open. "Liaison? I . . . I don't understand. Why would the Senate . . .?"

Rasche regarded the other man with cool and impassive eyes. "You're harboring a Jedi on this planet," he accused. "In fact, I believe that the Knight in question is here in Amir." He took a step forward, forcing the Andalian to step back. "Where is she, Senator Yeb? Where is Anjuli Nab?"

The Andalian delegates regarded the Sith Lord with confusion. The one who had greeted Rasche replied, "I'm afraid that you have me confused with someone else, sir. I am not Solipo Yeb. My name is Junipero Khan, head of the Andalian State Council. Senator Yeb has left for his personal retreat, a few hours ago."

The Emperor's apprentice became still. He took a deep breath and used the Force to extend his senses. Then he felt it . . . another Force sensitive signature. One that could only come from a Jedi. The signature emitted from the capital's busy center. Rasche glared at the Andalian politician. "You lie! The Jedi is here in this city! I feel her presence." He summoned the clonetroopers' company commander. "Lieutenant Necros, have a squad set up a detention center, nearby, and place Representative Khan and the rest of these . . . prominent members of the Council there, where they can pass the time."

Outrage flared in Junipero Khan's dark eyes. "You cannot arrest us! We're members of the High Council! We haven't done anything!"

"You are harboring a Jedi fugitive! An enemy of the Empire!" Rasche barked, "Necros! Do as I ordered!"

The clone officer ordered a squad of troopers to arrest the High Council members. "Do you honestly expect to take over an entire planet's governing body, because of some fugitive?" Khan exclaimed in disbelief. "The citizens of Andalia will not allow it!"

Rasche glanced upward. Imperial Destoyers descended from the sky like locust. The Sith Lord then stared pointedly at the Council leader. "I'm afraid that your citizens no longer have any say in the matter."

-------------

A male Andalian stepped out of a landspeeder and covered his head with his cloak's hood. He glanced furtively about and rushed inside a two-story building made from pale-rose adobe mud. The building, called the Karidote Seminary, happened to be a chapel that served as a sanctuary for those citizens who wanted privacy for religious mediation. Senator Solipo Yeb strode past a series of doors, until he came upon the last one on the right. Once more, he glanced around to make sure that no one saw him. Then he knocked.

Over a minute passed before the door slid open. A tall, lithe female with similar light-brown skin, along with high cheekbones, wide brown eyes and long dark hair worn in a single braid, stood in the doorway. "Senator Yeb?" she said in a low, husky voice. "What is it?"

The senator threw back his hood. "Anjuli, you must leave at once. Imperial troops have arrived in the city. And I believe that the Senate has sent a liaison to arrest you."

The Jedi Knight's face became slightly pale. "The Senate's liaison?" She paused with a frown on her face. "I thought I had sensed a presence, but I wasn't sure. And this person is . . .?"

Sighing, Solipo added, "His name is Darth Rasche."

Fear crept into Anjuli's eyes. "Darth? A Sith Lord? The Emperor has a Sith Lord working for him?"

"Anjuili!" Solipo exclaimed sharply. "This is no time for questions! You must leave! The planet will soon be overrun by Imperial troops!"

The pair entered Anjuli's room. The sparse décor struck a deep contrast to the more lavish furnishings favored by many of the planet's citizens. The room consisted of a pallet, a low table, two large cushions next to the table, and a wardrobe filled with her personal belongings. Anjuli grabbed hold of a burlap sack and opened the wardrobe. Then she began dumping its contents into the sack. "If I were you, Senator, I would also leave. Get your family and get out. Hide out in the Outer Rim Territories."

Solipo sighed. "I've already made arrangements for my sister to leave, not long after your arrival."

The Jedi Knight finished packing. "I'm ready. Let's go." She led Solipo out into the corridor. Blaster fire whizzed past their heads. The pair glanced down the corridor and saw three clone troopers approaching them with blaster rifles. Anjuli barked at Solipo, "Get out of here! Now!" She nodded at the door situated at the other end of the corridor. "That way!"

Without hesitation, the senator sprinted down the corridor, toward the door indicated by Anjuli. Just as he reached it, Solipo glanced over his shoulder. He saw the Jedi Knight use her lightsaber to deflect the troopers' fire with great ease. He opened the door and found himself in a lush, formal garden with hedgerows, low trees and flowerbeds. A stonewall surrounded three-fourths of the garden. And a wooden gate divided the wall in the middle.

A minute later, a panting Anjuli emerged from the building. "They've been taken care of," she murmured. "Let's get out of here, before it's too . . ." She broke off, as a tall man dressed in a black tunic, black pants and a maroon cape leapt over the stonewall.

"Anjuli Nab!" the tall man growled. "I arrest you in the name of the Emperor! You are charged with treason!"

Anjuli stared at the man with disbelieving eyes. "Romulus Wort? You're . . . you're a Sith Lord?"

"The name is now Darth Rasche!" Wort shot back. He whipped out his lightsaber. Its red blade illuminated his handsome face.

Blue light lit up above the Jedi Knight's lightsaber. "Senator Yeb!" The mention of his name popping into his mind startled Solipo. "The minute we start fighting, I want you to leave. Head for your transport and get out."

Solipo opened his mouth to speak, but the two Force users began to ignore him. He watched anxiously, as the pair circled each other, cautiously. The moment their blades connected, the senator sprinted toward the wooden gate. Upon reaching it, he glanced over his shoulder. Both Anjuli and Wort . . . or Rasche . . . or whatever his name was, swung their lightsabers at each other with the ease of master swordsmen. Solipo almost felt inclined to remain behind and watch. But his sister and freedom waited. The senator inhaled sharply. Then he passed through the gate and into the streets of Amir.

-----------

Red and blue blades clashed in the gardens of the Karidote Seminary. Utilizing the Sorensu form, Anjuli Nab coolly parried Rasche's aggressive attacks against her. The Sith apprentice could not help but admire the Jedi Knight's lightsaber skills. As he recalled, Nab possessed a talent for luring her opponents with minimal physical moments. Rasche decided that he would not fall for such strategy.

The moment he took another step toward her, Nab made her move. The Jedi Knight swiftly executed a 360-degree spin, otherwise known as the Jung Ma move. She would have sliced Rasche's midsection in half, if he had not parried the blow. But he did . . . by dropping to one knee and swinging his weapon in front of his face.

Nab gasped in surprise and Rasche sprung to his feet, forcing her weapon away with another swing. Then he finally went on the attack. Rasche delivered a series of fast swings that kept his opponent off guard. The attacks continued, until Rasche forced Nab against a stone bench, causing her to fall over backward. Then Rasche sliced off her sword hand. She cried out in pain.

"Why?" she whispered, clutching her burnt stump with her uninjured hand. "I don't understand."

Rasche coolly replied, "It's simple. You're Jedi. I had dedicated nearly all of my life to an order that proved to be nothing more than an archaic institution that ruined the lives of others. Why should I remain loyal to it?"

"Ruined . . . lives?" Nab exclaimed. "The Jedi served democracy! Brought light to the galaxy! How could you . . .?"

Harsh laughter escaped from Rasche's mouth. "I used to believe the same. Until I learned the truth about the Jedi. But do you want to know why I really hate them? Hate all of you? Because despite their power, they could not prevent the deaths of those I cared about. In fact, I believe that they are responsible for his . . . those deaths. And they allowed the so-called Chosen One in our midst. The Jedi weren't all wise and powerful. They were stupid! And blind."

Confusion whirled in Nab's dark eyes. "I don't understand."

Rasche stared down at her with contempt. "Pity. I guess you never will." With that remark, he plunged his lightsaber into the Jedi Knight's chest.

Seconds passed before he stared at his former colleague's dead body. Six or nine months ago, he would have felt a little remorse over her death. But Rasche had learned a lot about the institution he had served most of his life. Before the Jedi records had been destroyed, he learned about the Council's duplicity in keeping their diminished power to the Force a secret from the Senate. He learned of their plans to take control of the Senate during the Clone War's waning days. He also learned that the late Jedi Master Sifo-Dyas had been responsible for the creation of the clone troopers. These discoveries, along with knowledge of Master Windu and Master Yoda's illegal assassination attempts on Palpatine, led Rasche to realize that the order he had served had been nothing but a lie. His anger deepened and he developed hatred toward the Jedi Order. And a deep contempt for those who continued to serve it.

A clone trooper appeared in the seminary's garden. "Lord Rasche," he announced, "the Andalia High Council members have been incarcerated, as ordered. Three divisions have taken positions throughout the planet. So far, no resistance has been met."

"Good," Rasche replied with a nod. "Also send a squad to track down and arrest Senator Solipo Yeb. As soon as possible."

The trooper nodded. "Yes, my Lord." Clutching his blaster rifle, he rushed back inside the building. Rasche picked up the fallen Jedi Knight's lightsaber and followed closely behind.

END OF PROLOGUE

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

"JULIE AND JULIA" Photo Gallery



Below is a gallery of photos from the new comedy by Nora Ephron called "JULIE AND JULIA". Based on the lives of television chef Julia Child and blogger Julie Powell, the movie stars Meryl Streep and Amy Adams:


"JULIE AND JULIA" Photo Gallery































Sunday, August 16, 2009

"The Rain Chronicles" [PG] - Book V




"The Rain Chronicles" [PG] - Book V

Rain Robinson of ”Future’s End” ends up on Voyager, following her adventures with Tom Paris and Tuvok in late 20th century Earth. Here is Book V.

-------------

RAIN ROBINSON - JUNE 9, 2373:

Voyager arrived at some space station near the edge of an area called the Nekrit Expanse. There, Neelix had a reunion with an old friend named Wixiban. I'm glad. Ever since he and Kes broke up, he has been in the dumps. He also confessed a fear that Captain Janeway might toss him off the ship, now that Voyager will be traveling through an area unfamiliar to him. I think the poor man is suffering from a major identity crisis. But then, aren't we all?

I also encountered one of B'Elanna Torres' engineers. He's a Vulcan named Vorik. Unlike Tuvok, his skin is pale and he's also a lot younger. Don't get me wrong. I like Tuvok, but he does remind me of some elder statesman, sometimes. Vorik seems friendlier. Warmer. He even volunteered to fix the replicator in my quarters. Maybe I'll get a chance to know him, better.


LIEUTENANT B'ELANNA TORRES - STARDATE 50442.37:

Poor Neelix! He has certainly endured a lot over the past month or so. First, Kes breaks up their relationship for good. And now, he has to spend the next two months, scrubbing dilithium chambers. Punishment from Janeway for getting involved in an illegal drug deal. Neelix, a drug dealer. I just can't imagine!

Neelix and his friend's little drug trade also resulted in a murder on the station. Which led to Chakotay and Tom being arrested for the crime. I was nearly beside myself when I heard the news. Rain Robinson didn't seem concerned. Which struck me as very odd. But then, her attitude toward Tom has been odd ever since she boarded this ship. Perhaps she doesn't love him, after all.


RAIN ROBINSON - JUNE 10, 2373:

When I heard that Tom had been arrested for murder, I nearly had a fit! It was all I could do from storming Captain Janeway's office and demand that she do something about Tom. Until I remembered that Tom has no feelings toward me, other than as a friend. Since he's so interested in B'Elanna Torres, I decided that she should be the one to storm the Captain's office.

Ensign Vorik finally came by to fix my replicator. Like I said before, he's a nice guy. We even have something in common - we both enjoy mountain climbing and are very good at it. He told me a lot about Vulcan - the people, the language, and its history. According to him, Vulcans and Humans first met some 210 years ago, when a Vulcan scout ship had detected a warp signature in Earth space. I recall reading about the Federation's "First Contact" from the ship's database. And about Ephram Cochrane.

For some reason, Tom and Lieutenant Torres popped into my mind. I began wondering about the Vulcans' first contact with the Klingons. Or Earth's. When I brought up the subject of Klingons with Ensign Vorik, two odd things happened. One, a strange light appeared in his eyes. And two, he began praising B'Elanna's name to the skies. If I didn't know any better, I'd swear that Vorik had a crush on her.

"Excuse me, Ensign," I began, curious over Vorik's behavior, "do you have feelings for . . . uh, Lieutenant Torres?"

He looked startled for a moment. Like a kid whose hand had been caught inside the cookie jar. "I, uh . . ." He blinked. Then, "Why yes. As a Vulcan, I have the greatest respect for Lieutenant Torres. She is a competent chief engineer and commanding officer." His voice seemed calm and full of respect. But his eyes told another story. They practically brimmed with deep emotion. Strange, considering what I've heard about Vulcans. Looks like B'Elanna has two men mooning over her. Figures.


RAIN ROBINSON - JUNE 18, 2373:

Busy day for me, today. I got to experience my first inversion nebula. I must admit that I found it just as thrilling, viewing it from the Bridge. Especially since I never saw those super novas, from last month. I may not be that crazy about Janeway, but I am grateful that she allowed me on the Bridge to view the nebula. I must thank Jenny, Megan and Tuvok for asking her permission.

Later this evening, Neelix hosted a luau in Holodeck Two. It was great! Well, at first. Polynesian music, exotic drinks (I asked for a Mai Tai, of course), and great food. I managed to replicate this deep blue dress with white orchid prints and a halter top. Ensign Pat Mulcahey seemed particularly enamored of the dress. He even asked if I would like to share a private table. But I said no. He's a nice looking guy, but a little too shallow for my tastes.

Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay arrived at the holodeck, arm-in-arm. They looked like the happy couple - she, smiling at the partygoers and he, shooting love-sick glances her way, when she wasn't looking. Poor sap. He must really be infatuated with her.

The Doctor was also there, with a girl on each arm, looking like the star of "Bond Goes Hawaiian". And then there was Tuvok, the last person I had expected to appear at this bash. Strange, he's a bigger loner than I am. I wonder what drew him to the luau? Seconds after his arrival, Tuvok's eyes focused upon some blond holocharacter, playing a game. Ah hah! So, that's why he decided to break his "fortress of solitude" and join the party.

Not long after Tuvok appeared, new arrivals joined the luau. It was Tom and B'Elanna. She wore a nice, white dress with thin straps and maroon flower prints. It went well with her skin tone. Tom wore this cool Hawaiian shirt that reminded me of the ones my dad used to wear. Of course, that pleasant memory faded, once I realized how perfect they looked together.

Then I saw the most amazing thing. Vorik appeared at B'Elanna's side and said something to her, causing her eyes to grow wide. And Tom's. Like a zombie in a horror film. Still in a state of shock, B'Elanna allowed Vorik to lead her to a private table. And there stood Tom, looking like a big chump. Interesting.


LIEUTENANT B'ELANNA TORRES - STARDATE 50462.21:

What in the hell was I thinking? Why did I allow Vorik to lead me away from Tom, like that? It was not what I had expected. Or wanted.

I had expected an evening with Tom, Harry and Vorik. I wanted an evening with Tom. Alone. Harry didn't bother to show up. Vorik suddenly remembered a conversation about my favorite view and took advantage of the situation. I felt so surprised that I didn't bother to put up any resistance.

Then something worse happened. Tom's gaze shifted from Vorik and myself to Rain Robinson. And although she was surrounded by the Delaneys, Pat Mulcahey, Ken Dalby and Chell, her eyes managed to return Tom's gaze. And for a brief moment, I had the feeling of watching electricity sizzle between two entities. Thank Kahless, Rain finally looked away and remained with her friends. Despite her eventual rejection, that exchange of looks told me one thing - Tom has not lost interest in the woman from the past. And I suspect that she feels the same.


RAIN ROBINSON - JULY 16, 2373:

Voyager has come upon a planet rich with gallicite. According to Jenny, gallicite is a mineral substance used for the construction of warp field coils. I'm not going to get into what the hell all of this means, other than it has something to do with the ship's ability to travel at a fast speed. The name of the planet is called Sakaris IV and the ship is now orbiting around it. Jenny also told me that B'Elanna Torres will be leading a team to collect the gallicite.

Where do I fit in all this? Well, the original team was supposed to consist of B'Elanna, Neelix, Vorik and Tom, who is also a climbing expert. Apparently, Vorik went berserk in Engineering and tried to attack B'Elanna. I knew he was crazy about her, but this is ridiculous. I wonder what made him, of all people, go off the deep end like that? Anyway, to make a long story short, guess who has been chosen to replace Vorik on the mission? That's right! Me. Someone - either Vorik, Tom, Neelix, or one of the Delaneys - must have informed the Captain about my particular skill. I don't know who, but I am grateful. After spending over two months in space, I'll finally have the opportunity to get off this damn ship. Hell, I've been going stir crazy!


LIEUTENANT B'ELANNA TORRES - STARDATE 50541.36:

Everything has gone to hell, thanks to that p'taq, Vorik! Him and his damn pon far! I should have known something was amiss when he proposed marriage to me! Naturally, I said no. What made that idiot think I would ever be interested in him? After I rejected him, that . . . that bastard attacked me, by trying to establish a mind meld. I paid him back by breaking his jaw. Too bad the Doctor healed it immediately. I would have liked to see him suffer.

After Vorik's attack, everything seemed like a haze. Neelix mentioned to the Captain, a possible candidate to replace Vorik. I didn't think we need one. Neelix and Tom would have suited me just fine. To my surprise, it turned out to be Rain Robinson. Great! Now, I'll have deal with the Blast From the Past, cozying up to Tom during the entire mission. Huh! Not if I can help it! I became determined to make sure that she would not occupy much of Tom's attention. Damn pon far playing upon my aggressiveness, I guess.

As we climbed down into one of the underground caves on Sakaris IV, Neelix's climbing piston malfunctioned. He dropped to the bottom, taking me along for the ride. Neelix broke his leg. I bruised my shoulder, sprained my ankle and lost my temper. Even worse, I bit Tom's chin in a fit of anger and desire, declaring him as my mate in the worst Klingon manner. Kahless! I never thought Human blood could taste so . . . intoxicating! But I didn't hang around to deal with my actions. Especially with Miss "Know-It-All" Robinson witnessing the entire scene.

Someone must have informed Voyager on what happened. Probably Tom. Not long after I had found a supply of gallicite, Tom and Rain arrived, with Chakotay and Tuvok in tow. I really didn't notice the others. Only Tom. Everyone tried to explain that I had been afflicted with the pon far and need to return to the ship. I didn't know what the hell they were talking about. I was too dizzy and simply longed to be with Tom. Alone.

It never happened. Several Sakarians decided to make their presence know. There was this avalanche and the next thing I knew, I was alone with Tom. And Rain Robinson. As if matters couldn't get any worse. I tried to ignore her, pretend that she didn't exist. Unfortunately, it didn't help. Especially after I . . . oh God! What the hell was I thinking? I guess I simply couldn't keep my hands off Tom any longer. There seemed to be this fever within me, urging me to mate with him. So, I tried to seduce him. Right in front of Rain. When he rejected me, it simply became too much. I attacked him. Tackled him to the ground, determined to . . . I guess I wanted to have sex with him. The idea of his body pressing against mine, and the touch of those hands just overwhelmed me.

Two things happened. Rain tried to intervene and I tossed her aside like a rag doll. Then Tom scrambled away from my grip and out of harm's way. Even worse, he began paying attention to Rain, who seemed to be hurt. I thought she was faking, until Tom declared that I had sprained her shoulder. Oddly enough, I felt frustrated, instead of embarrassed.

Things got hazy again, when we finally reconciled with Tuvok and Chakotay. Tuvok, bless him, insisted that Tom mate with me in order to quench my plak-tow - my blood fever. And this time, Rain would not be able to stop us. She didn't, but that p'taq, Vorik, did. He had escaped Voyager and interrupted what could have been some great sex. Goddamn Vulcan! Vorik challenged Tom for my hand! I didn't need Tom or anyone else to kick that bastard's ass! I did it myself. Thoroughly.

But it's over now. My fever is gone, and so is my opportunity with Tom. He has seen my . . . well, my Klingon side at its worse. Kahless! I must have really scared him off. Looks like Rain will have him all to herself. Damn!


END OF BOOK V

Friday, August 14, 2009

"THE UGLY TRUTH" (2009) Review




”THE UGLY TRUTH” (2009) Review

Romantic comedies – at least those I have personally found entertaining – have become increasingly difficult to come across in the past decade or two. In fact, I can honestly say that I can count at least five or six romantic comedies that I have truly liked during this period. And recently, ”THE UGLY TRUTH” became one of them.

Directed by Robert Luketic, ”THE UGLY TRUTH’ told the story of Abby Ritcher, a romantically challenged producer of a television morning show with slowly declining rating. In an effort to boost ratings, her manager hires a cynical and slightly crass television personality named Mike Chadway, who gives seemingly chauvinist comments about love and marriage to boost ratings. The two commence upon a rocky relationship. But when Abby falls for her next door neighbor, a handsome doctor named Colin, Mike persuades her to follow his lead. She agrees to his helpful advice and if he can get her the man she wants, proving his theories on relationships she will work happily with him. But if Mike fails, he agrees to quit.

I might as well put my cards on the table. I really did not expect ”THE UGLY TRUTH” to be entertaining. But much to my surprise, it was. And most of the entertainment came from the screen chemistry that generated between Katherine Heigl and Gerard Butler. On screen, the pair was a basket of firecrackers, as they traded barbs, looks and kisses between each other. Heigl gave a deliciously funny performance as the uptight Abby, who stubbornly refuses to give up her ideal views on romance and especially in what she construed as the perfect man. And Butler was a hoot as the cynical, crass and yet witty Mike, whose views on romance and both genders came off as refreshingly honest.

Both Heigl and Butler were ably supported by a solid cast. Cheryl Hines and John Michael Higgins were hilarious as Georgia and Larry, the married co-anchors of Abby’s morning show, whose marriage was saved by some blunt advice given by Mike. Bree Turner gave a sly performance a Abby’s assistant, Joy, who lived vicariously through Abby and immediately sensed the chemistry between the latter and Mike. Nick Searcy provided stability to the cast as Abby’s no-nonsense manager, Stuart, whose decision to hire Mike would change Abby’s life. The only bad apple in the bunch came from Eric Winter’s performance as Colin, the object of Abby’s desire. Let me be clear . . . Winter did not give a bad performance. He simply had the bad luck to be saddled with a dull and one-dimensional role created by the screenwriters.

Robert Luketic did an excellent job of not only generating hilarious and first-rate performances from his cast. He also did justice to the screenplay written by Karen McCullah Lutz, Kirsten Smith and Nicole Eastman. And I must commend the screenwriters for creating a hilarious and entertaining romance. But I am also amazed that three female writers managed to avoid indulging in constant male bashing jokes (I said constant, for there were a few) and reveal that both men and women are guilty of bringing their own particular baggage to relationships. As I had stated earlier, their only misstep was the creation of the Colin character. Surely they could have created a more interesting rival for Abby’s heart.

Most critics gave ”THE UGLY TRUTH” mixed reviews. Some claimed that Heigl and Butler had no chemistry. Others claimed that Lutz, Smith and Eastman’s screenplay did not live up to the leads’ talent. They are entitled to their opinions. But I prefer to form opinions of movies on my own. And as far as I am concerned, I found ”THE UGLY TRUTH” - especially Heigl and Butler’s performances – to be very entertaining.

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

"G.I. JOE: THE RISE OF COBRA" (2009) Photo Gallery



Below are photos from the new action film, "G.I. JOE: THE RISE OF COBRA". Directed by Stephen Sommers, the cast includes Channing Tatum, Marlon Wayans, Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje, Rachel Nichols, Christopher Eccleston, Sienna Miller, Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Dennis Quaid:


"G.I. JOE: THE RISE OF COBRA" (2009) Photo Gallery




















































Monday, August 10, 2009

"Charles Gunn and His Role in Angel Investigations"




"CHARLES GUNN AND HIS ROLE IN ANGEL INVESTIGATIONS"

There is something about one of the episodes of ”ANGEL” that has always bothered me. My unease centered around an incident between two of the series’ major characters that occurred in the early Season 3 episode, ”That Old Gang of Mine”. But to understand the nature of my unease, one has to return to two episodes from Season 2 - ”Reunion” and ”Blood Money”.

As many fans of ”ANGEL” are aware, Angel had decided to fire his three companions – Cordelia Chase, Wesley Wyndham-Price and Charles Gunn – as a despondent reaction over his failure to save a human Darla from the manipulations of Wolfram and Hart and the vampire he had sired, Drusilla; in the episode ”Reunion”. Although upset over Angel’s actions, Cordelia, Wesley and Charles had decided to revive Angel Investigations in the following episode, ”Blood Money”:

Gunn takes the card and looks at it.
Gunn: "That's a Angel? Looks like a - a lobster with a - growth or... We'll make our own logo."
Wesley: "Yes. Something sleek, but edgy."
Gunn: "Something that says: you need help, we're there."
Wesley: "Exactly. Danger is our business. (Cordy put a hand to her forehead and begins to stagger) We'll catch you when you fall."


While celebrating the successful conclusion of a case that involved a demon, the trio had a discussion on their agency’s new name:

Gunn: "Our new agency."
Wesley: "Wyndham-Price Agency."
Cordy and Gunn: "The what?"
Wesley: "You don't like it? - It's classy."
Cordy: "It's stuffy. - The Chase Agency! *That* has the right ring."
Wesley: "Why?"
Cordy: "Because it's my name."
Gunn: "Uh, Wes, Ms. Chase, alright, there is only one player here with a name that strikes dread in the demon heart."
Points at himself.
Cordy: "Gunn?"
Gunn: "Uh-huh."


Mind you, the above conversation that took place was nothing more than a spot of fun for the trio. They eventually decided to maintain the agency’s former name – Angel Investigations.

Now, according to many fans of the series, Cordy, Charles and Wesley had all decided that despite being equal partners in the updated version of the firm, Wesley would act as case leader. In other words, due to his past as a Watcher and extensive knowledge of the supernatural world, he would lead the other two when they were actually on a case. This did not make Wesley head of the firm altogether or the official boss of Angel Investigations. He would simply act as leader during a case. But after an early episode in the following season, a good number of people – including Joss Whedon and Tim Minear – had forgotten.

Then came the early Season Three episode, ”That Old Gang of Mine”. In this particular episode, Charles discovers his former comrades are murdering harmless demons for fun. When he tries to convince them to stop, he learns that - due to his association with Angel - he has lost their trust. One of his former associates gives Charles the opportunity to win their trust by killing Angel, who is unable to defend himself due to a spell. Near the end of the episode, Wesley had threatened to fire Charles if the latter ever goes against Angel Investigations again.

Here is the rub. Why in the hell would Wesley threaten to fire Charles? HE HAD NO RIGHT TO DO THIS. Charles was no longer an employee of Angel Investigations. He was one of three partners. I realize that he and Cordelia had voted to allow Wesley act as leader in their cases. But this gave Wesley NO RIGHT to treat Charles as an employee, instead of a partner. He should have told Charles that he and Cordelia would break their partnership with Charles if the latter ever pulled again what he did in "That Gang of Mine". Instead, Wesley treated Charles like a minion. Even worse, no one has protested against Wesley’s behavior this to this day:

Gunn: "Don't guess Rondell and his crew are gonna be crossing Venice boulevard again any time soon."
Wesley: "It's never easy - the pull of divided loyalties. - Whatever choice we do end up making we feel as though we've betrayed someone."
Gunn: "Yeah."
Wesley: "If you ever withhold information or attempt to subvert me again, I will fire you. - I can't have any one member of the team compromising the safety of the group, no matter who it is. If you do it again you will be dismissed, bag and baggage, out of a job onto the streets."


Just reading the above passage pisses me off. Did Wesley actually believe he had a right to treat Charles like an employee? Like some damn minion? Tim Minear – who wrote the transcript – and Joss Whedon obviously allowed Charles to accept the threat as genuine. And I do not understand this. What in the hell were they thinking? Both seemed to have forgotten that Angel Investigation 2.0 had been co-founded by Wesley, Cordelia and Charles. Because of this, Wesley had no right to treat Charles like some employee, instead of a colleague and co-owner of the agency. But since Minear and Whedon seemed to be stuck in some vision of Charles as a muscle-bound employee, they made a major blooper in regard to Charles' character. And worst of all, the majority of the Jossverse fans see nothing wrong in Wesley’s treatment of Charles or the idea that the Englishman was the African-American’s employer and not fellow colleague.

I am sick to my stomach.

Sunday, August 9, 2009

"Auld Lang Syne" [PG-13] - 1/1



Here is a New Years tale set at least a week-and-a-half after "Revelations". It's called "Auld Lang Syne":

--------------------------------

"AULD LANG SYNE"

RATING: [PG-13]
SUMMARY: Cole and Olivia bring in the New Year at a swank party and discover more than they had bargained for. Set nine days after "Revelations" - alternate Season 5.
FEEDBACK: deerush76@yahoo.com - Be my guest. But please, be kind.
DISCLAIMER: Cole Turner, the Charmed Ones and other characters related to Charmed to Spelling Productions, Brad Kern and Constance Burge. The McNeills are my creation.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Someone once suggested that I write an Xmas story featuring Cole and the McNeills. I couldn't think of one, and came up with a New Year story, instead. Two months late, I'm sorry to say. Hope you like it.



"AULD LANG SYNE"


"Good afternoon, Mr. Turner," the voice on the other end of the telephone greeted.

Turner. After nearly two months of acquaintance, Cole had learned that whenever his friend and neighbor, Olivia McNeill, felt nervous, she would call him by his surname. What she had to be nervous about on this gusty Monday, Cole had no idea.

He sighed. "Okay, Olivia, what do you want?"

"Who me?"

"Olivia!"

The other voice inhaled deeply. "All right," Olivia admitted. "I only wanted to know if you're free for tomorrow night. You know, New Year's Eve?"

Now it was Cole's turn to feel nervous. A date? Why would Olivia be interested in knowing whether he had a date or not? Was she interested in him? Or did she need a convenient companion for the New Year celebration, tomorrow? Cole suspected the latter. He did not mind. Somewhat. After all, the last thing he needed another romance so soon after his divorce. Rebound was not exactly his style. Yet, another part of him could not deny his attraction to the red-haired witch. Should he accept her offer? Or reject Olivia? Cole took a deep breath. "No, I don't have a date. Are you asking me out on one?"

Silence preceded Olivia's reply. "Well, I guess you can call it a date. I thought you wouldn't mind coming to a New Year's party with me. Warren Mitchell is the host. At the Mark Hopkins Hotel."

"Sounds like fun," Cole murmured. "What time should I pick you up?" The two friends proceeded to make arrangements for tomorrow night. Once they agreed upon their plans, the two friends hung up.

* * * *

A firm believer in being prompt, Cole appeared outside Olivia's apartment at exactly eight o'clock, the following evening. A large tan trenchcoat barely hid an immaculately well-tailored tuxedo. After he rang the doorbell, relief washed over him when Olivia answered the door.

The figure that stood in the doorway, took Cole's breath away. Literally. Beautiful seemed like an inadequate word to describe Olivia. She looked exquisite in a watered green silk gown with a halter top. A deep green Kashmir shawl barely covered her creamy shoulders. And tiny emerald earrings sparkled from her earlobes. Cole wanted to express how beautiful she looked. But fearful of seeming too appreciative or eager, he greeted his neighbor with, "Hey! You look very nice. But aren't you going to be a bit cold in that?"

Olivia sighed and rolled her eyes. "So much for making an appearance," she muttered. "Hold on." She disappeared for a few seconds and returned with an overcoat covering her gown. "Okay, let's go." She and Cole headed toward the elevator. As they reached their destination, Cole wondered if he had just made a big mistake.

* * * *

Twenty minutes later, Olivia and Cole entered the elegant ballroom, where the party was being held. They had just left a smaller room, where the guests left their coats and wraps. Balloons and streamers decorated the Peacock Court. A large silver and red banner that read "HAPPY NEW YEAR 2003" hung from the back wall, behind the bandstand. On the latter, a swing band performed one of many old tunes from the 1930s and 1940s. Olivia recognized "Night and Day" as she and Cole entered the room.

Elegantly dressed partygoers danced. Olivia spotted her parents in the middle of the dance floor, oblivious to the others around them. Her older brother, Bruce, and his fiancée, Barbara Bowen, were sampling food from one of the buffet tables. "Where's Harry?" Cole asked, referring to the McNeills' youngest family member.

Olivia replied, "He was invited to a party at P3, by Paige. I guess this might be a little too stodgy for him."

"Paige and Harry?" The idea seemed to be surprising to Cole. "You mean to say they're now dating? I had no idea."

"No, they're not involved. In fact, Harry took his own date to the club."

Cole nodded. "Oh."

Olivia continued, "Paige had also invited Bruce and me, but we had already received Warren Mitchell's invitation."

"Oh, I see. P3 isn't exactly your style," Cole murmured.

"I didn't say that."

Cole shot back, "You didn't have to. Besides, it was never really my style, either. Paige had also invited me, but I wasn't comfortable with the idea. I never liked the place and Phoebe might be there."

Naturally, Olivia thought sourly. She wondered if Cole would ever recover from his bitter divorce. Or his ex-wife. Instinct told her that idea seemed impossible.

Cole continued, "The only reason I had put up with P3 in the past was because of Phoebe and her sisters. I prefer jazz. Especially Latin jazz and swing."

"Really?" Olivia replied. "I might have preferred P3 some five to ten years ago. Personally, I think today's rock music is going down the drain."

A third voice added, "Typical Olivia. You always did have a dark view of the world. A true pessimist."

The two friends whirled around. Olivia nearly winced at the sight of the tuxedoed man who stood behind them. No one could deny that Cedric Lloyd was a handsome man. At slightly under six feet, he possessed thick chestnut hair styled in expensive haircut, deep gray eyes and chiseled features. Olivia had known him since her years at Stanford University, eleven years ago.

Fixing a too bright smile on her face, Olivia greeted her old classmate. "Cedric! How are you? It's been quite a while since we've seen each other."

"Ten months, to be exact," Cedric promptly replied.

A touch of spite crept into Olivia's smile. "Oh yes. The Stefan Kakov case. How is Mr. Kakov, by the way? Still enjoying prison?" Before Cedric could reply, Olivia continued, "Cedric was the defense attorney for Stefan Kakov. You know, the so-called 'businessman' from Prague. It turned out that Mr. Kakov was merely a front for local Russian gangsters."

Cedric's demeanor lost a bit of its friendliness. "You should be careful, Olivia. Or else you can end up being sued for slander."

"Slander?" Disbelief rang in Olivia's tone. "Cedric, your client was convicted on four counts of racketeering and one count of attempted murder."

The other man shot back, "It's only a temporary setback. I plan to file another appeal on his behalf. Just to let you know."

"I hope you don't plan to use the same argument you had used in your last appeal," Olivia retorted. She added to Cole, "I was one of the investigators in charge of the case. And a witness for the prosecution."

Cole added with a nod, "Oh yeah. I remember that case. Last February, right?"

Gray eyes turned to Cole. Cedric held out his hand. "I believe we haven't met. I'm Cedric Lloyd." To Olivia's surprise, Cole's brows shot upward. "And you are?"

"Cole Turner." He took Cedric's hand and shook it. "I'm with . . ."

Recognition lit up Cedric's eyes. "Oh yeah, with Jackman, Carter and Kline," he finished, to Olivia's surprise. "I've heard of you."

An ironic smile touched Cole's lips. "Not surprising, since we're on opposite sides of the Giovanni case. I'm representing Mark Giovanni. I guess we'll be seeing a lot of each other over the next few years."

Cedric responded with his own tight smile. "Well, that depends upon Mr. Giovanni. Hopefully, he'll be convinced to give up his claim on the property in question. Or perhaps his attorney will convince him." Calculation hardened his gray eyes. "I understand that you're divorced. And once married to Phoebe Halliwell. You know, from the 'Ask Phoebe' column for the BAY-MIRROR. What happened?"

For a moment, Olivia thought Cole would strike the other man dead. Or transform the latter into a ball of fire. The rage disappeared from Cole's eyes, only to be replaced by spite. "It's simple," he replied in his usual snarky tone, "we got divorced. Irreconcilable differences."

A snide Cedric shot back, "So did any of these irreconcilable differences have anything to do with your disappearance, last summer?"

A pause that seemed to last forever followed. Cole's eyes bored into Cedric. Long and hard. And the latter had the good sense to look uncomfortable. Then Cole responded with a chilly smile. "The answer to your question is no. My so-called . . . disappearance had nothing to do with my divorce. Anymore than your quiet little weekly 'lunches' with a certain Miss Kaye Ling, at the Carnahan Hotel in Room 1005, have anything to do with our case."

Cedric's face turned deathly pale behind the tan. An amused smile curved Olivia's lips. Apparently, Cole had learned a lot about Cedric's marriage to a certain San Francisco socialite. And his infidelities. "Is there something wrong, Cedric?" she asked. "You look a little . . . well, ill. Where's your wife, Marta? Is she around?" Olivia glanced around the ballroom.

"I think I . . . uh," Cedric glanced around nervously, "I better get going." He flashed the couple an insincere smile. "See you . . . later." Then he walked away. Quickly.

Both Olivia and Cole immediately broke into gales of laughter. Once it died down, Olivia said, "I'm sorry about what Cedric said to you. About Phoebe and last summer. You have to watch out for him. Cedric loves exploiting other people's weaknesses to get his way. Even when we knew each other in college. Mind you, I'm not above doing the same, myself."

Cole smiled and raised his hand. "Guilty as charged."

Olivia continued, "It's just that Cedric is one of those slimy little shits that really annoys me. You know what I mean, right?"

"Oh yeah." Cole's smile twisted into a grimace. "Troxa. Thankfully, he's been dead for the past two years."

Before Olivia could ask for details, the band commenced upon a rendition of an old disco tune called, "Ring My Bell". Olivia winced. She had never been a fan of the post-1977 Disco era. "Listen, are you hungry? It's either eat or dance to that piece of crap."

Cole nodded. "Let's eat." The pair headed toward the nearest buffet table. They observed the couples in the middle of the ballroom, dancing . . . or trying to dance to the disco tune. Cole shuddered. "Maybe we should skip the food for now. I don't know if my food will stay down after watching all that," he commented. Then he linked his arm with Olivia's and they continued toward the buffet table. "But I'll try."

* * * *

Despite the occasional bad tune, Cole managed to enjoy himself. The food, he had to admit, was superb. Thankfully, the band failed to follow up with another disco tune and returned to their old repertoire. Which gave Cole the opportunity to enjoy several dances with Olivia. As he danced with Olivia's mother, over an hour-and-a-half later, Cole was unaware that another unpleasant moment loomed ahead.

"Gwen darling! Gwen McNeill!" The screech came from an elegantly-dressed woman in her fifties, who seemed as if she had went on one crash diet too many. The newcomer interrupted the dancing couple, as she threw herself into Gwenneth McNeill's arms. "Darling! How are you?"

The Welsh-born woman responded to the other woman's greeting with a polite smile. "Vanessa, darling. How lovely to see you. May I introduce you to a friend of the family? He's an attorney for Jackman, Carter and Kline. Cole, this is Vanessa Probst. Her husband, Albert, owns, or should I say . . . 'is' Sewell Industries. Vanessa dear, this is Cole Turner."

Bright pale eyes appraised Cole with interest. "Oh my dear, I've already met Mr. Turner."

"You have?" Cole frowned. He did not recall meeting this dark-haired, anorexic-looking woman before.

Mrs. Probst continued, "Oh yes. At Adam Flannery's ball in late September. He had hired Mr. Turner's firm to look into purchasing the BAY-MIRROR. However, I hear that Jason Dean is now considering it."

Adam Flannery's ball. Cole recalled the handsome millionaire, whom an evil witch had cast a spell over, last fall. Flannery had also been genuinely attracted to Phoebe. In an effort to win his ex-wife's trust, Cole had encouraged her to date the millionaire. Needless to say, his efforts and Phoebe's interest in Adam had met a dead end.

Giving Mrs. Probst a polite smile, Cole replied, "Ah yes, now I remember you, Mrs. Probst. You wearing this stunning . . ."

"Silver gown with the halter top," the socialite finished.

Cole's smile widened. "Yes." His eyes swept appreciatively over her figure, causing the older woman to blush. "And you look even lovelier, tonight."

Mrs. Probst turned to the other woman. "So, Mr. Turner is a friend of the family?" She hungrily eyed Cole, making him feel uncomfortable. "Or Olivia's friend? I saw them dancing together. Several times." A knowing smile stretched her thin lips even further.

Cole quietly . . . and politely replied, "We're just friends. Olivia and I. Neighbors."

The socialite glanced at Mrs. McNeill. Who confirmed Cole's words with a nod. "Oh. Well, my mistake. I had thought that Olivia had finally put Richard behind her, after a year." Mrs. Probst failed to noticed the wince on the other woman's face. "Mind you, I don't blame dear Olivia. She and Richard were . . . well, you remember how they were like, together. Right, Gwen darling?"

Looking as if she wanted to sink in the nearest hole and die, Olivia's mother murmured, "Oh yes."

"So perfect," Mrs. Probst continued. "Richard was perfect for Olivia. Rather like some golden couple. I understand he was a reporter for the BAY-MIRROR or some other paper. I don't know much about his father's family, but his mother was one of the Marshalls. I even remember the night they had first met . . ."

Mrs. McNeill interrupted in a sharp, yet sweet tone, "Vanessa dear, we'd love to continue this conversation, but Cole and I have a dance to finish. If you please."

A red flush crept across the socialite's thin emaciated countenance. "Oh. Yes, of course. I'm so sorry." Mrs. Probst smiled. "Perhaps I'll see you later, Mr. Turner?"

Cole opened his mouth, unable to answer. He turned to Mrs. McNeill for help, who promptly replied, "Perhaps dear. Cole still has a few more partners on his dance card, this evening. Including two with me. Excuse us." To Cole's relief, Mrs. McNeill steered him away from the socialite, who merely gaped at the departing couple.

"Sorry about that," Mrs. McNeill quietly continued, "but that's Vanessa Probst for you. She does tend to ramble on. And sometimes I swear that she considers herself to be San Francisco's unofficial gossip."

Cole smiled. "Don't worry. She didn't bother me at all." It was a lie, of course. Although Vanessa Probst had struck him as an irritating woman, her recollections of Olivia and Richard Bannen had ignited a jealousy he had considered non-existent.

Come to think of it, the last time Olivia had mentioned her former fiancé/warlock-lover, Cole felt a jolt of envy. Much to his surprise. It seemed ridiculous, of course. Why should he feel jealous over a man he had never met? Well, that was incorrect. Cole had met Richard Bannen, twice. The first time had happened around the time he was assigned to kill the Charmed Ones. And during the second time, he had been on the run from demonic bounty hunters. And Richard was fleeing vengeful members of the Bannen warlock coven. Both demon and warlock had betrayed their alliances for the love of a witch. The pair met for a brief period to help each other elude their pursuers in another dimension.

Cole had long accepted that he would always love Phoebe, despite their divorce. And that Olivia will never stop mourning Richard, who had been killed by her emotionally disturbed aunt. Yet, Cole found himself experiencing waves of jealousy when Vanessa Probst rambled on about Olivia and Richard. Nor did he understand why. Actually, a small part of his mind knew why, but Cole refused to confront his feelings.

Green eyes that strongly reminded Cole of Olivia, bored into his. "Are you sure?" she asked in response to his comment about Mrs. Probst. "You seemed a little . . . I mean, when Vanessa began talking about Olivia and Richard, you seemed . . . upset."

Cole gave the red-haired woman a reassuring smile. "Of course. Why would I be upset?"

Gwen McNeill continued to stare at him. "Only you can answer that question, Cole," she answered cryptically.

Not saying a word, Cole found himself wishing he had never met Vanessa Probst. Or that she had never opened her big, fat mouth.

* * * *

The clock on the east wall read ten twenty-five. Another ninety-five minutes would usher in the New Year - 2003. And Olivia had no one to celebrate with . . . in the traditional fashion.

There was Cole, her escort for tonight. But one did not kiss one's neighbor and close friend. Especially if one wanted to preserve that friendship. Olivia could only think of one other person with whom she could exchange a New Year's kiss. If only Cedric Lloyd was not married . . . and repulsive. Otherwise . . .

"Well, well! Look who's alone at last!" Olivia winced, as none other than Cedric sidled up to her side, near one of the buffet tables. "So, where's your boon companion, Turner?"

Olivia coolly nodded toward the dance floor. "Over there, with Carol Bessin. Why do you ask?"

"I wanted to make sure that you were alone," Cedric replied in a voice that seemed to ooze honey. "So that no one would interrupt us."

Shooting her former classmate a dark look, Olivia added, "When you meant by 'no one', did you mean your wife?" She reached for a sliver of quiche.

A too hearty bout of laughter escaped Cedric's mouth. "You . . . you haven't changed much, you know that, McNeill?"

"Unfortunately, I can say the same about you."

Cedric stepped closer, invading Olivia's personal space. She could feel his hot breath on the back of her neck. "Look, why don't we take a break from all of this," he nodded at the partygoers, "and share a private drink, together. Alone."

Goddess! Olivia heaved a sigh. She dropped a cherry tomato on her plate. "Cedric, please don't. Just don't. I wasn't interested in you, twelve years ago. Nor was I interested in you, ten months ago, and I'm certainly not interested in you, now. One, you're married. Two, I don't like you, and three . . ."

A sneer marred Cedric's handsome face as he finished, "Three, you're holding out for Cole Turner. Am I right? Unless, you've allowed him to sample a bit, already."

Olivia glared at him. "No, I haven't," she shot back, pointedly. "Nor do I intend to. Cole and I are friends and nothing more."

"Friends, huh?" Cedric's sneer grew wider. "It's just as well. I've met the former Mrs. Turner at a party, recently. Let's just say that she would be a hard act to follow."

The other man's words proved to be the last straw for Olivia. She fixed Cedric with a glare that would have eviscerated the Source. It certainly convinced the attorney to take a few backward steps. "You know something, Cedric? Your chances of getting into my pants just went from impossible to ground zero," she said in a deadly voice. "Now, I suggest that you leave me the hell alone."

Cedric's face turned dead white. "Hey, Olivia! C'mon! I didn't mean . . . uh, what I meant to say was . . ."

"I know exactly what you were trying to say." Olivia's death glare remained. "And I suggest that you keep your mouth shut before you say anything further."

"I didn't mean to upset you. It's just that a friend of mine from the BAY-MIRROR had heard about . . ."

Olivia interrupted, "If you're trying to warn me about Cole, don't bother. In fact, you're the one who needs a little warning."

Cedric's fearful expression disappeared, only to be replaced by one of wariness. "Meaning?" he demanded.

"Meaning, when you and Cole fight it out over this Giovanni case, I would suggest that for once in your life, try to fight fair. If you don't you'll only end up burned."

A derisive snort escaped Cedric's mouth. "Look who's talking!" he shot back, his sneer firmly back in place. "If I remembered correctly, you were quite the little manipulator back in college. And now look at you! Little Miss Do Gooder! It's not your style, McNeill, so why don't you give it a break!"

"So I'm a hypocrite! So sue me!" Olivia snapped back. "I know I'm not above manipulating someone, but at least I try to realize when the moment calls for a little manipulation. You seemed so determined to get the best of Cole before the case can get into full swing."

A belligerent Cedric retorted, "I'm merely trying to stay ahead of the game, sweetheart. Something you would have understood if you had decided to become an attorney, instead of a cop. I want to win this case. And as for your precious Mr. Turner, I think I can handle him."

Olivia rolled her eyes in disgust. She had forgotten how an intelligent man like Cedric could be so damn stupid. "Oh you can? All you've done is questioned Cole's whereabouts from last summer. It's only been over a week since he was given this case, and already he knows that you're cheating on Marta with a Miss Kaye Ling, at the Carnahan Hotel. In Room 1005, I may add." Amazing how she remembered all that. "You do know what Cole was doing, right? He was giving you a fair warning to play it straight. And when it comes to manipulation, Cedric, we're rank amateurs compare to him. I suggest that you take my advice."

The stubborn gleam in Cedric's eyes told Olivia that he had no intention of following her advice. Figures! She heaved another sigh and placed two canapés on her plate. "I've had enough of this. See you later, Cedric," she drawled. "Hopefully we won't set eyes upon each other for quite a while." Olivia started to walk away.

"Hey! Where are you going?" Cedric demanded.

Olivia paused. "To find a place to sit and eat." She turned around to give him one last pointed look. "Alone." Then she finally walked away, ignoring her companion's abashed expression.

* * * *

Eleven fifty-four. At least that was the time shown on the ballroom's clock. Cole's eyes scanned the room. There seemed to be no sign of Olivia anywhere. He had spotted other members of the McNeill family . . . but no Olivia.

'Why is it so important to you that you find her?' The question reverberated inside Cole's mind, over and over again. He saw other couples forming, staring at the clock and waiting for the moment when they could celebrate the New Year in traditional fashion. Was that the reason why he seemed so determined to find . . .?

"Hey! Ready for the New Year?" A female's voice filled Cole's ears. He spun around and found Olivia standing behind him.

Cole managed to keep the relief out of his smile. "Hey, yourself. Enjoying the party?"

One of Olivia's red brows quirked upward. "Well, other than an unpleasant encounter with Cedric Lloyd and dances with both Connor Maxwell and David Levin - both lousy dancers, by the way - it's been great. What about you?"

"Great." Cole paused momentarily. "So, you had an unpleasant encounter with Lloyd?"

Olivia shook her head. "It's nothing I couldn't handle. Just another one of Cedric's dumb come-ons. I've been getting them since college."

Cole's mouth twisted into a wry smile. "At least you didn't have an encounter with one Mrs. Vanessa Probst, this evening. Or did you?"

"Oh dear God!" Green eyes widened in mock horror. "You poor man! Vanessa Probst? And you still have your sanity intact?"

"It was pretty damn close. But I managed." Cole glanced at the clock. "Huh, it's almost midnight. In less than two minutes."

Cobalt blue eyes met green ones. The unmistakable air of heat seemed to sizzle between the pair. The feeling took Cole by surprise. Never had he imagined that he would experience such feelings with a woman other than . . . well, Phoebe. It was impossible. After all, he felt no love toward Olivia, other than as a friend . . .

"Ladies and gentlemen!" a voice boomed across the ballroom. It belonged to the party's host, Warren Mitchell. Cole and Olivia tore their eyes away from each other and stared at Mitchell, who stood on the bandstand. "In less than . . . twenty-five seconds, 2003 will arrive. Time for the countdown!"

All eyes focused upon the clock on the wall. When the second hand struck ten, the countdown began. "TEN . . . NINE . . . EIGHT . . ." Again, Cole began to contemplate his actions once 2003 arrives. Should he kiss Olivia? Shake her hand? ". . . FOUR . . . THREE . . . TWO . . . ONE!" Then everyone shouted, "HAPPY NEW YEAR!"

As the band commenced on "Auld Lang Syne", couples began to kiss. Both Cole and Olivia faced each other awkwardly. For a moment. Then they stepped forward. Again, doubt overwhelmed Cole. Should he kiss her? Would a peck on the cheek hurt? After a moment's contemplation, Cole decided that it would not. He leaned forward to kiss Olivia's cheek.

". . . never brought to mind. Should auld acquaintance be forgot? And days of Auld Lang Syne!"

A slight moan escaped from Olivia's mouth, as Cole's lips left her cheek. He stared at her expression - blissful with eyes closed shut - and his heart turned a somersault. "Oh hell!" he murmured. Olivia's eyes flew opened in surprise. Before she could say or do anything, Cole gathered her into his arms and kissed her. Long and hard.

". . . days of Auld Lang Syne. Should auld acquaintance be forgot . . ."

Her lips felt warm, soft and welcoming. It seemed to Cole as if the world around him and Olivia had ceased to exist. He gave her lower lip a slight nip before slipping his tongue into her mouth.

"For Auld Lang Syne, my dear. For Auld Lang Syne!"

While their tongues explored each other's mouths, every nerve in Cole's body tingled with passion and delight. 'This is wrong, Turner. Wrong! She's your neighbor, for God's sake! You're not in love with her.' Slender fingers slid through Cole's hair, causing the temperature in his body to rise. Olivia's soft body pressed against his. That, along with the wet warmth of her mouth, left his body feeling so hard that it ached.

'End it now, Turner! Now! Remember Phoebe! The love of your life!' Images of his ex-wife popped into Cole's head. But it did not help. Olivia's kiss grew harder and more insistent and Phoebe's image immediately disappeared.

"Should auld acquaintance be forgot and the days of Auld Lang Syne! HAPPY NEW YEAR!" Cheers and whistles filled the ballroom. Cole realized that he should end the kiss now, but he found himself longing for a private hotel room, where he could enjoy a few private hours with Olivia. Enjoy more kisses, strip the gown from her body; explore the latter with his mouth and hands; lower her onto a bed and . . .

'Goddamit Turner! Stop! Release her, now!' Aware that the moment for kisses had finally passed, Cole immediately broke the kiss and cried out, "No!" He jerked away from Olivia's embrace. The two neighbors stared at each other with stunned eyes. At least Cole felt stunned. Horrified, actually. Did he just . . . ? As much as his mind tried to reject it, he knew what he had done. Kissed his neighbor with the full-blown passion of an ardent lover. Christ! What the hell had he been thinking?

"Uh . . . Shit! I didn't mean . . . uh . . ." In one of those rare moments, Cole found himself speechless. "Olivia, I didn't mean . . ."

An icy mist glazed over Olivia's green eyes. "Yeah, I'm sure that you didn't." She looked disappointed. Almost angry. "Looks like the bar's open, again," she said with a sigh. "Thank God, because I really need a drink." She started to turn away.

Cole called after her. "Olivia! Maybe we should . . . should talk about what just happened."

"What is there to talk about?" Olivia retorted. Anger radiated from her eyes. Real, genuine anger. "It's the New Year and we kissed like everyone else. End of story. Nothing to get excited over." Another sigh left her mouth. "Now, I really need that drink." Before she walked away, Olivia added, "By the way, you don't have to take me home, tonight. I'll just leave with my family."

Cole replied, "I don't mind taking you home."

A cool smile touched Olivia's lips. "But I do. I'll see you later." She walked away, leaving behind a confused and devastated half-daemon in her wake.


THE END