Rappaccini's Daughter: What are you afraid of...?

[x-scorpion.livejournal.com]

On the way back to the mansion from New York City, Cammie has an encounter that makes no sense to her.

It was one of those days. One of the days that made her want to break things. After work she didn't take off home, she changed in the bathroom of a fast food joint near Adrienne's store, slung her bag over her shoulder and went to the back streets of New York.

She found the type of places where when you walked in and what you smelled was the fact that no one washed the floors and no one cared about anything except the beer (which was cheep) and the fights that got started. And, she started one. Afterwards, she decided she'd walk for awhile and worry about a cab later. Maybe, she'd find another bar. The itch wasn't quite gone.

Nor was the soft smile that lit her face as she made her way down the sidewalks of New York, taking in the smell of a city. For a girl who had grown up this side of nowhere, she loved Big Cities, more than she could say. New York may not have been Chicago or Houston, but she was getting used to it. Too used to it, really. But the itch to leave didn't outweigh the fear that she might fuck up again.

Cammie stopped at a corner. Left or right? Choices.

"You fought quite impressively, Carmilla," the man behind her said. "I knew you had a lot of spunk, but I hadn't expected you to be quite so...skilled."

Cammie stopped and whirled around, "Who the fuck are you?" was her only answer to that. The guy didn't look like he was packing, but you could never tell.

He held up a hand, patiently. "I only want to talk."

"You got five seconds," Cammie said, "So you'd better start talking."

The man gave her a small, if satisfied, smile. "Your mother sent me--not your adopted mother," he said, holding up a hand to forestall her protest, "your biological one. She'd like to see you."

Cammie stared for a moment and then just started to laugh, "Nice. Whatever you're smoking you can go right back to it now."

The smile became more bemused. "This is not a joke, Carmilla." His expression didn't change, but something in his eyes grew more vicious. "How is your arm?"

She looked around quickly. A public street was NOT the place to punch him out and run. Too many people to look. Too many people to ask questions. And too many witnesses if he didn't make it back to his feet.

So, option number two came to front. She smiled, "I don't know who you are, but you're fucking crazy. I'm going to miss my bus, I suggest you try some other line when you go looking for change."

The man laughed softly. "What are you afraid of, Carmilla? Your real mother wants to meet you. I thought this was something every adopted child dreams of."

"Stop calling me that," she returned, "If my 'real' mother wanted to meet me, she shouldn't have put me up for adoption in the first place. And if you really want to keep pushing this issue with me I don't care how many people are around, you're going to eat fist."

He held his hands up again. "I'm not here to fight you." He regarded her for a moment. "Did it not occur to you that perhaps she gave you to friends to raise because she thought they could offer you a better upbringing?"

The light changed, and Cammie started walking, "Just stop it. And back off."

"Your mother will be so disappointed," he called after her, not bothering to follow. She would, too--disappointed that he hadn't managed to bring her with him. Her orders were clear, however; the girl was not to be harmed. He watched her disappear into the crowd, not moving from his spot on the corner until she was well and truly gone.