The apartment was nice. Warded against demons and hauntings, as it seemed both had happened to the building on more than one occasion, or that's what rumors had reached my ears. I didn't know where Rhys had been going, but there were things he was fighting when I showed up, that I knew I really didn't know how to deal with, and I wished like hell that I could help, but I knew I'd be more of a hindrance.

The old book that he'd talked about, the one that he'd used to summon the first, he called her, kept catching my eye. It was old, leather bound and the parchment used for pages seemed like touching them would make them crumble to dust.

I knew I didn't belong here, and even had the feeling that Rhys in more ways than one, wasn't wanting me here. Like I am some fragile f*ckin' flower that can't handle myself, and that pisses me off. I've been shootin' since I was seven, fightin' when most girls were playin' with dolls, and huntin' since about the same time. I know how to handle myself, I just don't know how to handle this place. I scrawled a note on a piece of paper, and stuck it on the fridge door, took the book with me, and kept his Metallica shirt.

Rhys~ Going home. This isn't my kinda place, and if you get your sh!t done, you know where I am. Otherwise, I wish you the best with everything.

Kel

It wasn't the best note, but I'm not Oscar Wilde. I felt like a burden, and there was stuff waiting on me back home. I knew I'd miss him, but I knew it wasn't meant to be here, in this place.

I sat in a local coffee shop, sipping on a regular black much to the barista's disbelief. The book was open in front of me, and I was trying to make sense of the words and incantations, hoping beyond hope that I could find a way home. I wasn't wanted here, and I didn't know why, or how I was. I knew that some spells worked on different phases of the moon, and tonight's was a Waxing Crescent. Maybe I should have waited until one of them was full. I frowned then, remembering that there were two moons.

"Damn it," I muttered. "Tepez, Eragul..." I was writing the words that I seemed to remember from somewhere, when the chimes above the door sounded.

He was cute enough. By that I mean I wouldn't kick him outta my bed for eatin" crackers. Hair was a little on the shaggy side, from what I could see stickin from under the beanie on his head. Jeans over Converse Hi Tops, Black coat over a "Tool" shirt. I was hoping that was the name of the band, and not a personal advertisement. He turned his head as if he was going to look at the others in the room, and as I didn't want to be lookin" like a slack jawed idiot, I stuck my nose back in the old book, while clicking the pen on my teeth.

Being a hunter, you learn a few things to help your survivability, several even on the illegal side, so I'd picked up enough cash to have a coffee, a sandwich, and a room at the local inn, but that was about it. I jotted a few notes, some of the symbols there, and was surprised when he sat at the small, round table, close to where I was. I don't know what sort of cologne he wore, but it was a nice addition to the smells of coffee that filled the place. I was watching him as the phone rang, he answered in a surprisingly low voice, and was mentioning digs, and not wanting to show up until sometime around eleven.

"That's not mornin" Kel, that's damn near noon!" I could hear Daddy's words echoing through my mind. I knew he was talking to another guy, I could tell by his body language, and even part of the conversation was heard, a slightly stuffy English accent. Digs, English, I wondered if he knew Indiana, or Dr. Alan Grant, and Yes, I really crack myself up at times. My thoughts moved back to Rhys, and I wondered if he even knew I was gone yet, or if he even cared. He'd tried to push me back, and I finally backed off...and out. It didn't mean I liked it, but what is a girl to do' I was trying not to crack up and turned the page, only to have a piece of one of the old pages rip.

"Sh!t!" I said, pressing the page together like it would magically reconnect.

"Problem?" I realized then he was talking to me, and looked at him with doe like eyes. I couldn't speak, stunned and pissed seems to make one stupid at times, so I just pointed at the page.

"Ouch," he said, probably thinking he was dealing with a deaf mute. "Looks like an old book."

"It's pretty old," I said, finally finding my voice. "I am trying to find a way home." I muttered a few words from the torn page, as I made a few more notes, and I glanced at him to see he'd taken a notice in what I was saying. "What?" I asked.

"Can I see the book?" he asked, watching me with it, and I didn't see the harm, so I stood up and passed it to him. He flipped through some pages looking impressed. "I don't think this is Native."

"How would I know?" I asked, almost slipping that it was a stolen book. "And how would you know?" He looked like a lay about, rocker sort, like he would know nothing of ancient texts or even books.

"I am an anthropologist, I'm here studying." He said, still looking at the book.

"You think it can get me home?"

"Where's home?" He asked me, and I just studied him a long while.

"How do I know you aren't some weirdo stalker type, huh?" I asked.

"How do I know *you* aren't?" He asked as he sipped from that cup then, and I just glared. "Ain't right to turn a lady's words around on her, Bub," I said, studying him and could see the glint of humor in his grayish eyes. The scruff of his beard added to his features, instead of taking away. A build like Rhys, like he could hold his own. He laughed then, placing the coffee back on his table.

"I'm Noah Bennett," he said, offering his hand, which I took in a firm shake, glad to see he didn't shake hands like most men who shook a woman's hand. Most guys that shake a woman's hand think they are going to crush the smaller hand, and wind up feeling like they just slid a dead fish covered in wet noodles into your hand.

"Kellie,? I said, leaving the last name for now.

Something told me that things weren't right. I woke up and looked at the empty place in the bed beside me, where once a warm, good lookin" body laid. I reached out with my hand, already knowing what I'd find, and damned if I wasn't right.

Cold sheets.

This wasn't a gone to raid the fridge. This wasn't a gone to take a leak.

This was a gone.

Again.

I rolled over, muttering to myself, and as I reached for the lamp, that's when I saw the envelope.

Again.

"Really?" I opened the drawer instead, to hell with quitting for now, and pulled the pack of Reds from within, put one to my lips and flicked the small, pink lighter to light it. "Son of a bitch needs to work on his goodbyes." I said in a smokey exhale of breath, as I slid the drawer closed and took the paper into my hands. "Dear Kel, I am gone again, to do some kind of crap I can't trust you in helping me do. No matter that you've been doing this shit for years yourself, but you know....I'm a man." I said as I worked at the glue, already knowing it was just a letter telling me goodbye.

My eyes darted over the words and I shook my head before using that same lighter to catch the edge of the envelope on fire and let it burn nearly to my fingers before I dropped it into the metal trashcan.

"I ain't gonna be your messenger, Bristol. You want Adam to know something, take care of it yerself," I said as if he could even hear me.

I tossed the covers back and swung my legs around to let my feet touch the floor, and reached for the same old Van Halen shirt that was now, definitely mine. He left it, after saying I stole it, well, guess what? It's mine now, tough luck, boyo. I smiled smugly and made my way toward the kitchenette, it was time for coffee, then a way back home. Hell with Rhydin, Hell with Rhys.

I was thinking about what I was going to do when I got back home, not Chicago, but home, and it was then that the words came to me, and as the coffee brewed I sang loudly, changing a few for my own benefit.

"Says he's had enough of me. I've had enough of him too. I might as well go on and set him free, he's already turned me loose. No fault, no blame, nobody done no wrong. That's just the way it sometimes goes. Sometimes two people just don't get along, and it's time to hit the road."

I lit the stove, in the mood for breakfast suddenly, still I sang, even though the neighbors were yellin" for me to stop.

"Goodbye. Farewell. So long. Vaya Con Dios. Good Luck. Wish you well. Take it slow. Easy come girl, easy go."

I fell into laughter, when the banging began to alternate from the ceiling to the floor, and the cries of "Keep it down!" were nearly in unison.

"We tried to work it out a hundred times. Ninety-nine it didn't work. I think it's best we put it all behind, before we wind up gettin" hurt. No hard feelin's, darlin. No regrets. No tears and no broken hearts. Call it quits, callin" off all bets. It just wasn't in the cards."

Finally there was a knock at my door, and a loud, annoyed male's voice. "Once more and I'm comin" in there."

I narrowed my eyes, and my lips curled upward. Some people just don't appreciate what a Texas Treasure that George Strait is.

"How big a boy are ya?? I asked as I pulled my hair back into a loose pony tail.





(Easy Come, Easy Go By George Strait.)