Zecret Santa 2017 gift fic for nursedianaklim

To: @nursedianaklim

From: @interabangs

Happy Holidays, nursedianaklim! I’m thrilled to be your Zecret Santa, especially since I love Sigma/Diana, so I went with a family-themed fic for them. Hope you like it!


Recursion

“Are you two married?”

Thunk.

Diana hadn’t meant to drop her fork, really. It just happened to slip from her hand, landing on the finely crafted plate her mother only used for special occasions. Diana’s face grew hot, and it took all of her willpower not to look at Sigma.

“Okay, bud,” Liz said, dragging out her son’s chair and turning it at an angle so it faced the kitchen. “You asked for it.”

“Mom, no!”

“We talked about this,” she said as Diana wished her own face would stop looking like a tomato. “Back to the kids’ table for you.”

Looking dour, Taylor took his regular dinner plate and stomped all the way to the kitchen, angrily swatting aside the curtain that separated it from the dining room.

“Sorry, sis,” Liz said with an apologetic shrug as she scooted the empty chair back into its spot.

Diana exchanged a quick glance with Sigma before picking up her fork and saying, in as casual a voice as she could manage, “Oh, um, it’s all right.”

She supposed she was telling the truth. Things at least had been ‘all right’ up until Taylor looked right at Sigma and asked him one of the Forbidden Questions – probably because it might have been true.

Diana couldn’t exactly blame her family for wondering. There she was, back in her hometown, in her parents’ nice three-story in the cul-de-sac at the end of Bishop Street. Just two weeks ago, she’d cut contact with her entire family, and two weeks before that, she was crying her eyes out to Liz about another – well, Diana hated using the word, but it definitely had been an Incident.

Not long after that, and she was sitting next to a man her family never met, after having begged everyone over the phone not to ask him about their relationship status.

To her immense relief, said man reached under the table, where her free hand was trembling on her lap, and he enveloped her hand with his.  Not pushing down on hers, not gripping it. Just keeping his there, for her to feel him.

Her hand stopped shaking, and she smiled down at her plate.

She hadn’t even planned on asking Sigma to come home with her. It had simply slipped out, like the fork from her hand.

He’d been folding laundry while she was peeling carrots for dinner, and it was one of those things she didn’t realize she said, until right after she heard it come out her mouth:

“I’m going to visit my parents and sister next weekend, since I missed Christmas dinner with them. Do you want to come?”

She peeled off a particularly large piece of carrot, watched it hit the sink, then said, her face flushing, “Oh, I mean, I know it’s really soon. You don’t have to come with me if you don’t want

Sigma had crossed the room within a few of those giant strides of his, and put his arms around her, gently. “Yes, Diana. I’d love to.”

So, yes, Sigma had been great about it – like he was about pretty much everything, except grocery shopping – but it wasn’t him she worried about.

Before she’d called Liz and broke down crying, Diana hadn’t spoken to her in months. She hadn’t spoken to anyone in her family for longer – not even Great Nana, whom Liz was always quick to point out favored Diana.

And she was back home, sitting in her favorite dining room chair, like she hadn’t snapped at Mom to stop badgering her about the bruises on her arms, and why she couldn’t come to Taylor’s birthday party.

To everyone’s credit, they were warm and welcoming ever since greeting Diana and Sigma at the door. Patrick – Liz’s husband – and Dad might have shaken Sigma’s hand a little too long, and Mom may have squeezed Diana a little too tight when they hugged. But Diana could tell they were all on their best behavior.

As if to prove her point, Dad broke the incredibly long, awkward bout of silence – save for forks clinking against plates – which hung in the air after Taylor’s departure. “So, Sigma, how’s UC?”

“It’s great,” he said, without missing a beat. “I enjoyed my break, but I’m glad to get back to work.”

Patrick asked, “And you’re going for a, what, Master’s degree?”

“Actually, since I managed to get all my paperwork in before the deadline, I’m pursuing my doctorate.”

Liz nearly choked on her steak. “Your… I’m sorry, but how old are you, again?”

Sigma took his hand off Diana’s, but, after she glanced down, she saw that he only did it to wipe his sweaty palm on his black pants. “I’ll be 23 this year.”

“Holy shi – I mean, good for you,” Liz said, coughing as Patrick patted her back.

It was Mom’s turn to grill Sigma, and when she opened her mouth, Diana suddenly wished Sigma hadn’t taken his hand away from hers. “And your field is… engineering, right? I wasn’t quite sure how that got you into the same fundraising event as Diana.” Mom laughed in that slightly disconcerting way where you knew you did something wrong and she was pretending it was fine, but it wasn’t.

“Well,” Sigma said, after taking a few moments to chew his food, but Diana knew he was remembering what they’d prepared for the past few nights, “my passion is engineering, yes, but I’d like to study diseases – and their cures, as well. There was a seminar about a particularly disturbing disease at the event, and I happened to sit next to Diana.” He paused to exchange a brief, but knowing smile with her. “She’s heard all about the details, but I’ll give you the short version: when I was in high school, there was a deadly outbreak in my hometown, and if I could help prevent something like that from happening again, then I’d do whatever I could.”

Diana exhaled a long, slow sigh of relief as Mom, Liz and Patrick nodded in polite sympathy.

Dad took a sip of wine, peering over the rim of the glass at Sigma. “You’re from Michigan, you said?”

“That’s correct, sir.” Diana had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing at the irony of Sigma saying ‘sir.’  He’d told Diana beforehand that he would be as honest with her family as possible, without explaining all the time-travel stuff that she knew they’d never believe. She and Sigma had to make up an entirely new story about how they met – in actuality, it could very well be true in one universe – but Sigma didn’t mind being open about his past. And, in this case, alternate future.

Dad put down his empty wine glass. “How come I’ve never heard about this disease outbreak?”

“Well, it will happen – it happened a long time ago, and the government made sure it didn’t spread in the news, so it wouldn’t cause any panic.”

“Really?” Patrick said, starting to become skeptical – he was so much like Dad it wasn’t even funny; no matter how much Liz protested – and Diana glanced at Sigma, unable to hide the worry from her face.

Sigma kept his gaze on her father and brother-in-law, and, as he launched into a far more detailed and boring explanation, his hand slipped back over hers.

Diana picked up her fork, smiling again.

—————————————–

“How long you known him, sweetheart?” Dad asked her not two minutes after Taylor and his three brothers yanked Sigma and Patrick out on the front lawn, turning them into human jungle gyms.

Diana stirred her hot cocoa, remember what she and Sigma had practiced in the car ride. She couldn’t have said three years, or even a year, when she felt like she’d known him much, much longer. She hadn’t mentioned anything remotely related to Sigma when she called Liz.

“I told you, it’s been a couple weeks,” she said, watching the dark liquid swirl in her cup after she lifted her spoon.

“Diana,” her mother said, gently.

“Okay – a few months.” It wasn’t a lie if both answers could be true at the same time.

“You really think it’s the best time for you to, y’know, be shacking up with someone new?” Liz asked.

“I’m not ” Diana protested, but the flush in her cheeks that she knew was visible, was about as obvious as if her nose began growing.

“Darling,” Mom said, the worry lines creasing between her eyebrows as she scooted her chair closer to Diana’s and brushed her hair back behind her ear. “I understand why you want to be with him. Really, I do. I mean, he’s polite, he’s intelligent, and good Lord, if Adonis was made flesh

Okay, let’s not get too carried away here,” Dad said gruffly, and everyone else laughed, even Diana.

“And the way he acts around you,” Mom went on, continuing to stroke Diana’s hair, like she did when there was a thunderstorm. “I can tell he’s taking this, taking you, very seriously. But what if he turns out to be like… well…”

“He won’t,” Diana said firmly. “I know he won’t. And I know you want what’s best for me, but please don’t worry about us. We’re taking things slow.”

“Hmm,” Liz said, chin resting on her hand as she watched Diana take a long sip of cocoa. “If ‘slow’ means making out in his car for five minutes down the street, I’d hate to know what ‘fast’ means.”

Diana’s cheeks burned even more at that. She set down her mug. At least she didn’t spit out anything.

Liz lowered her hand from her chin and reached it out toward Diana, across the dining room table. “Hey. I’m kidding. Look, you’ve been to therapy

And I’m still going,” Diana said, a bit hastily, but she was glad she sounded firm. It was one of the truths she and Sigma went over, like him being able to pursue a doctoral degree.

“We’re all incredibly glad to hear that,” Liz said, her hand still outstretched on the table. “If you know, for sure, that you really wanna be with this guy… If you feel safe with him and can trust him after such a short time, then…” Liz felt silent and looked to Mom for help.

She was as quick on the draw as Sigma had been earlier. “Then I suppose we can trust him, too.”

Diana looked out the window, toward the front yard where her nephews were hanging from Sigma’s arms and laughing as he flexed. Then she looked at her family’s faces, at the mingled concern and hope in their eyes.

Then, slowly, she reached her hand across the table, and pressed her palm against her sister’s.

—————————————–

“He doesn’t know about your family, does he?”

Diana studied Sigma’s expression, one of her favorite past times. He was starting to be more animated – not as much as she was, or most people, really. But she was fascinated with noticing each miniscule change in his face.

Liz, Patrick, and their kids had left ten minutes ago. Diana planned on heading out with Sigma soon, too, but not before giving him a more detailed tour of the house. Her room, which somehow still looked like it had years ago, was the last stop.

“He’s a good guy,” Liz had whispered in Diana’s ear as they hugged goodbye. “Tense, but I think it’s because he’s one of those old souls, y’know?”

Diana laughed, squeezing her sister tighter. “Thank you, Liz. I’m glad you like him.”

“He’ll take care of you. At least, he better. And if you ever stop banging him, I know at least twenty single moms who’d give an arm to be with him.”

“Liz, come on!” Diana said, but it took her a while to stop laughing.

As she looked up at Sigma while they stood in her old bedroom, he was gazing intently at the objects on top of her dresser drawer.

“No,” he finally replied, “I don’t think he knows. I’ve tried not to think about them lately, just in case. But I think if he meant them any harm, he would’ve gone through with it now.”

Diana nodded.  Neither she nor Sigma had uttered the name of their son, not since escaping the shelter. She wondered if they ever would.

Sigma’s breath hitched before he spoke again. “I’ll make sure he won’t touch anyone in your family.”

“He won’t.” Somehow, Diana was certain of that.

“Have you always had these?” Sigma asked, his gaze fixated on the row of dolls arranged neatly in a row – probably by Mom – and facing him with an identical expression.

“Since I was little, yes.” Diana had to stand on her toes to reach out and run her fingertips over the dolls, from the largest to the smallest. Most Matryoshka figures, Diana thought, were old women, but this set featured a wide-eyed, innocent looking red-headed boy.

“Do you know where you come from?” she whispered to the smallest one. “Do you care?”

She remembered holding the newborn boy, during the long hours it took for them to die.

Diana blinked, and when her vision cleared, there was a teardrop next to the smallest rd-haired doll.

“Hey, Diana,” Sigma said, bending his head so he could murmur in her ear, “let’s lie down for a little while, okay?”

She was about to protest before an uncontrollable yawn cut her off. “Oh, okay.” She turned off the light and guided Sigma to her bed. They settled down on the covers, facing each other – it was a bit cramped, but Diana didn’t care one bit.

Sigma wrapped his arms around her back, tracing slow, small circles on her sweater with his thumbs. “Thanks for asking me to come. I had a great time.”

“You were wonderful,” she told him with a wide smile. “I’m really glad you came with me.”

“We should bring Phi next time, if that’s all right with you,” Sigma said, closing his eyes. “I’m sure we could come up with a story for her.”

“Yes,” Diana said, stifling a yawn, “and then we can visit your family.”

“That sounds nice,” Sigma said, though his words were beginning to run together. “I’d like that.”

“Ten minutes,” Diana told him, “then we’re leaving.”

“Of course,” he said, leaning forward to kiss the top of her head before settling his back down on their shared pillow. “Whatever you say.”

“I mean it, Sigma,” Diana whispered as her eyelids fluttered close. “Ten minutes… and then… we’re heading home.”

sudden loss of air, impressions in despair

To:  @chainek (galagaleeny)

From: @nursedianaklim  

Tried to fulfill all the prompts… might have gotten a bit too ambitious, but I wanted to fulfill your whole list.

Ao3

“Junpei!”

“How was I supposed to know it was on?  Why would a store have a blender plugged in?  It’s not like people come in here to try them out.”

He took her hand and it sent shivers up her spine, for the umpteenth time.  The other customers were still staring at them, some chuckling with amusement, others frowning in disapproval at the ruckus they had created.  But Junpei was right – it didn’t make sense for Williams Sonoma to have blenders plugged in right on the display so people could turn them on.  He had been so startled by the noise that he fumbled in trying to press the off button and knocked it to the floor.  Luckily it didn’t seem broken, and nobody was demanding they cough up the $899.99 for the Vitamix Professional Series 1020 Blender.

“Do we really need any of this stuff, though?” he asked as they moved into specialty electronics.  Akane ran her fingers over the cool metal of a Zojirushi Rice Cooker – on sale for $449.99 – and it brought up a brief flash of memory.  Aoi said their mother never used rice cookers; always on the stove.  She thought she could recall watching her stir it, wooden spoon in a big red pot.

They had only ever used rice cookers in the institution they had lived in, after.  Good people, but too many abandoned and orphaned and lost children and not enough adults to provide for all their needs.  Even before Aoi had officially become her legal guardian, he had watched over her and kept her safe.  Made sure she got up for school, did her homework, ate healthily, and slept peacefully.

“You okay?”

She met his concerned eyes and nodded.  Junpei didn’t look convinced, but eventually shifted his gaze to the appliances just ahead.  “Four hundred dollars for a toaster?”

“Probably for people with big families or who entertain.”  She could imagine the two of them having friends over.  Their wedding rings clinking against the plates as they brought tempura out for dinner.  Sneaking secret smiles at each other as Light or Aoi or Sigma or Phi chattered on about their new lives, before they moved into the living room.  The house she and Aoi had rented when they were doing research in Washington had a fireplace, and she loved the idea of sitting with Junpei around the hearth.

There were times back in the institution when the space heaters would run out of kerosene, so Aoi would take her and their blankets down to the laundry room.  They would bundle up with the warm sheets until they went cool, then swap them out with hot ones fresh from the industrial-sized dryer, so they could get through the cold nights.

“I could buy four toasters for sixty bucks at the Family Dollar and I bet they work just as well,” he scoffed.  “I can’t ask our friends to buy something like that.  Besides, you and Aoi have a ton of money.”

Akane could feel her face morphing into a mirror of Junpei’s frown.  “We won’t list only expensive items.  But … this is about creating our own home.”

“They have a wine club?”

Although she had seen signs for it before, but couldn’t remember sommeliers ever being present in the store for wine tastings.  He sauntered over to where a smiling blonde was offering him some merlot.

“Should you really be drinking?”

He knocked back the wine and tossed the glass behind him.  “Of course I should be.  I need something to forget everything you’ve done to me.”

“J-J-Junpei?”

More wine, another glass.  This time, he glared at her as he threw it to the ground.  “You ruined my life, Kanny.  Why would I ever want to marry you?”

“This is a dream, isn’t it?”  

The lights dimmed until she could barely see his face.  He took her hand again, but without the gentleness of before.  “We’re both in the field.  I’ll remember this, too.  Another disapp-”

She woke, but kept her eyes closed; as she wasn’t entirely disengaged, she could still feel his phantom touch on her skin.  She could smell him, although his usual comforting scent was tinged with the stench of beer.

Aoi’s frustrated grunts and rapid key-tapping told her he was still awake and something was happening with the market.  The TSE, probably, at this time of night.  Unless she had slept for longer than she thought.

When she had shaken off the last bit of Junpei’s mind, Akane opened her eyes, letting them adjust to the darkness.  The only source of light was his laptop, which he had dimmed and angled away.  

That’s not our future, she assured herself.  That’s not his future.  I’m going to make sure of it.   

* * *

She might have been dislocating Clover’s shoulder, but better that than her being dead.  Alice yanked, roughly, ignoring the other woman’s screaming.  She would break her arm, rip it off, do whatever she had to do to get Clover back on this side of the cliff.  She knew her pants were ruined, that her knees would be bruised and bloody.

“I’m going to kill him,” Clover roared as she finally made it back up onto firm ground.

“Not if I get to him first.”  

Even once they were both safely away from the edge, Alice held on tight to Clover, ignoring the wind and the rain.  When they both started to shiver, she got them to their feet and headed north, keeping a firm grip on Clover’s hand.  They were easily a good mile from their car.  Clover’s gun was somewhere at the bottom of that ravine; Alice was out of bullets and had lost her spare clip.

“Don’t you ever run off like that again.”  Because of the weather, she had to yell back at Clover to make sure she was heard.

“He was getting away.”

“He got away regardless!”

“But you said he might have information on your father.  I couldn’t let him get away!”

That got Alice to stop in her march back to the car.  She thought Clover had gone after Bozeman to get revenge for him kicking her in the face.  A raindrop splashed into her eye and when she wiped it away, she felt the false lashes come off.

“You don’t do something like that again, you understand?!”  There was a volume and an edge to her voice that had nothing to do with being heard over the pounding rain.  Clover didn’t respond, or more accurately, probably grumbled something under her breath that Alice couldn’t make out.  

After what felt like a million years, they made it back to the car.  She had to dry off both the sensor and her thumb twice before the door would unlock.  The leather seats felt horrible against her soaked clothing and skin.  As soon as Alice hit the ignition, Clover pressed the radio presets in the order that would turn off the internal camera – activated automatically by weight in the seats – and surprised her by grabbing her head and kissing her, hard.  Their cold and trembling lips slid against each other for only a moment before Alice pulled away.

“What did I say?  Not in the field.”

“Nobody can see us.”  How Clover could manage to look like she was pouting and glaring at the same time, she’d never know.  She gestured angrily at the rain slanting heavily against the windshield, obscuring the outside world.  “And you saw me shut down the camera.”

Not at work.  We agreed.”  

Alice’s hands shook as she set the heat as high as it would go.  Clover grabbed the first aid kit from under her seat and then slumped back against the lumbar support.  She treated her scrapes as Alice drove as quickly as she dared.

“We have to be careful,” Alice said finally, when she felt her voice wouldn’t waver.

“I know.”

“They would split us up if they knew.  We could even get fired.  Fraternization is forbidden.”

“I know.”

“I can’t lose … my chance to find who killed my father.”

Although she could feel Clover staring at her, she stayed focused on the road.  The rhythmic swishing of the wipers was the only sound for the longest time.

“I know.”  Softer, this time.  “I understand.”

Not everything had to be spelled out explicitly.

* * *

“It’s just me!” she called out as she stepped inside, swiftly moving to the alarm keypad.  Diana’s car had been in the garage, so Rebecca knew she was here, but when she didn’t get an immediate response, she started to worry.  Diana’s purse and keys were still on the table in the hall – right next to pepper spray and a panic button – and she could smell the chicken fettuccine in the slow cooker.

“Diana?”

No response from upstairs.  Down the hall, the back door was open, but she tried not to jump to conclusions.  And sure enough, Diana was safe and sound, kneeling in the dirt, tending to the poor, neglected flowers there.  Gardening was one of those skills that Rebecca wanted to have, but didn’t seem capable of learning.  Even talking to the plants – as Diana had suggested, as she was doing to them right now – only seemed to encourage them to commit suicide.

“You’re home early,” she said when she glanced up to see Rebecca.

“The meeting didn’t take quite as long as we thought.  Simmons didn’t try to fight it.  Turned in his keys and cleaned out his locker in silence.”

“Oh, good.”  Diana gave her an almost-smile.  She missed seeing the real ones, the bright, beautiful, beaming ones brought on by an adorable puppy or a happy child or a patient making it safely through their trip to the ER.  The ones that started to appear less frequently after their marriage and had mostly disappeared, nowadays.

“Are these new?”  There were bright purple flowers in her garden, leaning over as if they planned to eat her.  The bottom part of it even looked like a tongue on the inside.

“They’re called ‘fairy slippers’.  It’s uncommon that they’d be blooming this early.  Or at least, that’s what the woman at the nursery told me.”  Diana ran a finger over one of the one of the petals.

“You’ll have to stop by more often to make sure I don’t kill it.”

The almost-smile faded completely away and Rebecca felt like someone had injected ice water in her veins.  It was silly, stupid.  She was the one who saw the ad.  She was the one who brought it to Diana’s attention.  She was the one who kept asking her to consider it.  She wanted Diana to do it.

“You’ve decided, then?”

Diana nodded, stood up and dusted the dirt off her pants.  She tossed the gardening gloves in the bucket and headed towards the house, her hand brushing Rebecca’s as she passed by.

It was the best decision for Diana to make.  She knew that.  The money would give her the freedom to go anywhere.  Get away from him.  No more threats left on her voicemail, no more nasty messages keyed into her car.  No more making sure every new security guard they hired could recognize her ex-husband on sight.

But it meant once this Mars simulation was over, there was a chance the last time Rebecca would see Diana was when she came back to pack up her stuff and move far, far away.  And if that happened, all she would want to do is pack up her own life and follow her, even if that ended up being actually to Mars.

“It does something called ‘pollination by deception.’”  Diana was paused in the doorway and Rebecca realized she had been staring at the new flowers.

“Hmm?”

“It pretends it has nectar, to get bees to come in and pick up the pollen.  The bees visit but get nothing in return.  So they learn to stop visiting.  Or at least, the smart bees do.”

“Diana…”

A sad smile, this time.  “I know.  I’m not … I’m not.  I’m going to check on dinner.”

Rebecca tried to swallow the lump in her throat as she wiped away an escaped tear.  As much as she didn’t want to lose her best friend, Diana couldn’t go on living like this.  The money would give her freedom and security.

And no matter how much special fertilizer or garden tools she had to buy, no matter how many YouTube tutorials she had to watch or special classes she had to attend, she would make sure Diana’s fairy slippers thrived.

* * *

“Are you seriously saying you think Matiyasevich was wrong?”

Aureline paused, halfway through removing Phi’s shirt.  “Uh, you want to argue about this now?”

“The theorem has been around for fifty-eight years, and you’re saying there’s a flaw in the logic?”

“Right now, I’m saying fuck Diophantine equations.”  She resumed her task and chucked Phi’s tank top behind her before pushing her back on the couch.

Phi seemed to let herself get lost at first when Aureline kissed a path down from her nose to her collarbone.  This fantasy had played out in her mind more than once since she had noticed the cute girl with the platinum hair in the back row in Mathematical Methods in Nanophotonics.  Now they were here, after dinner and a Nonlinear Optics lecture, on Phi’s couch, half-naked and –

“But all Diophantine sets are effectively enumerable –”

– she couldn’t stop talking about an off-handed comment Aureline had made on the way back to the apartment.

“I’m not saying the conclusion is wrong,” she replied, sliding her hands up Phi’s legs, underneath the turquoise and black skirt.  “I’m saying the way he got there has errors.”

“So you think you’re smarter than … than …”  

Pushing aside her underwear and slipping a finger into Phi seemed to be pretty effective at derailing her train of thought.  Aureline planted sloppy kisses on her knees, her thighs, until the unmistakable sound of a crash outside startled her into raising her head.

“Oh god, that sounds bad,” she said as she hopped up and went to the window.  Not caring about her bare chest or who might see, she pushed aside the blackout curtains.  It looked like an SUV had plowed into three parked cars.

“What happened?” Phi asked.  She had put back on her tank tops before joining her to survey the scene.

“Shit.  I think someone hit my Mazda.”  Aureline bolted for the door, stopping only when she remembered she was naked from the waist up.  The first garment she snatched up was Phi’s sleeveless, pale blue jacket, and she tossed it aside in frustration, accidentally hitting the other woman in the face.

“Hey!”

“I’m sorry, I just … fuck!  I have to get down there before he drives off.”  Finally locating her shirt, she pulled it over her head, realizing that it was inside out and backwards but not having the patience to fix it.

“Even if he does, there are cameras covering the outside of the building and the parking lot,” Phi assured her as straightened her necklace and grabbed her boots.  “But go, I’ll be down as soon as I get these on.”

For some reason, Aureline glanced back into the apartment before she shut the door.  The black flower in Phi’s hair had come loose and she was pinning it back up.

It wasn’t until after she had exchanged insurance information with the driver – a Japanese exchange student who wasn’t drunk, but had apparently had a seizure – and surveyed the not-as-bad-as-she-thought damage to her car that Aureline realized Phi had never come down.  She should have been almost right behind her; all she had to do was throw on those ridiculously tall boots of hers.

Confused and a little angry, she skipped the elevator and dashed up three flights of stairs to apartment #306.  The door was cracked, even though she was sure she had pulled it closed.  When she pushed it open, white smoke escaped and she stepped back, expecting to see a fire.  But it didn’t smell like something was burning – more chemical, like a hospital.

She tugged her sleeve over her hand and covered her nose and mouth, but it was too late; she could feel herself start go get woozy.  Time felt like it slowed as she tipped forward and hit the floor.

A black figure moved past her and she tried to reach out and grab its leg before succumbing to darkness.

(fin.)