Date: 9/5/2000
From: SouthernSlider

Lol, DMD. You're right. If my team had lost two in a row to the schedule patsys, I'd really be crying in my beer - uh, wine, that is. I don't drink beer.
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United We Slide, Divided . . . We Disappear

Chapter One

Quinn stood at the window staring out at nothing in particular. Maggie and Remmy sat on the sofa behind him wondering if their lives would be in danger if they spoke to him. As Remmy opened his mouth and decided to chance it, Quinn suddenly slapped at the lamp on the table next to him and sent it flying across the room; Remmy closed his mouth immediately. Maggie jumped at the outburst, then sighed. Quinn turned toward the pair, glaring at them, daring them to utter a word, then stormed out of the suite.

"We've got to do something, Remmy," Maggie said as she rose to retrieve the broken lamp. "We can't let this go on much longer."

"I agree with you there, girl, but what? Attila the Hun is in no mood for suggestions on how to fix things with his brother."

Maggie thought for a minute and slapped the lamp on the table. "Well, he had better get in the mood. I am tired of walking on egg shells when he's around. Sliding is bad enough without having to put up with a brooding, pig-headed baby." She grabbed her jacket and headed for the door.

"Where are you going? And what are you going to do?" Remmy asked.

"Just sit tight and wait for Colin to return. When he does, keep him here." She slammed the door, making the glasses rattle. Remmy shook his head.

"I hope you know what you're doing, girl," he said aloud to himself. He produced a small, yet almost worried, laugh as a thought struck him. "Maggie in any mood and Q-ball in his present one. Mmm, mmm, mmm. I pity the poor fool that tries to get in their way."

***

Kelly had eyed the tall stranger from her position off-stage as he entered the bar . He had a somewhat familiar look about him, but she dismissed it as wishful thinking and years of searching. She thought him quite handsome except for the angry, yet sad, look in his eyes.

She decided right then to take it upon herself to brighten his mood. After all, isn't that why bars hired bands -- to lift the spirits of their patrons and put them in a booze-buying frame of mind? She thought through their repetoire of songs, and mentally readjusted the first set. A fast, catchy tune is what he needed to hear first.

"Guys, I need to change the opener, if you don't mind. Don't ask, just go along," she said as she stepped up to take the microphone. "Start with 'Take It Easy'."

Conie, the guitarist, eyed B.J., the drummer, and shrugged. He then began the tune, and Kelly started in, giving the stranger at the bar the eye.

Colin drew a large swallow from his mug and listened intently to the beauty on stage. As the words started to penetrate his mind, his mood dipped. How could he take it easy, when he and his brother were in the throes of such a conflict? At this point, he never even wanted to see him again.

The idea struck him that this world was as good as any, from what he had seen. No reason why he shouldn't just settle down right here and forget about the last couple of years. There was bound to be something he could do for a living. As the first song ended, his new idea seemed even better.

The band continued to entertain the small crowd as Colin endured the rest of the evening in unfamiliar territory; drinking was not something he did on a daily basis. When the band announced a break, he found himself watching the lovely lead singer walking his way as he drew the last swallow of his third beer.

"Miller Lite, Brad," Kelly said as she approached the bar. She flashed a shy smile towards Colin as Brad filled her order.

"My treat . . . Brad," said Colin as he pushed some money towards the burly bartender. "And another one for me." Brad eyed him warily.

"Thank you. The name’s Kelly," she said with her continued smile.

"Hi, Kelly. Colin. You sing very well."

"Thanks again. It certainly wasn't my plan for my life, but I've done pretty well with it. I have a great group of guys to help me out." She took a swallow of the golden liquid in front of her and swiped the tip of her tongue along her upper lip. The movement didn't go unnoticed by Colin. His face flushed.

"Any requests?" she asked.

"None that I can think of. Anything you do will be fine with me."

Kelly continued to lead the conversation for the duration of her break. He seemed to be a nice man, but she could tell there was something troubling him. He talked, but never initiated any of their little chat. She wondered about the story behind this man, and for the first time in a long time, wanted to find it out.

He didn't offer any information about himself, at least nothing very personal. He was pleasant though, even through the shyness . . . and the nagging sadness she could hear in his voice.

"Well, time to earn my living," she said as she saw Conie return to the stage. "Maybe we can continue this conversation later?"

"Maybe. I plan on being here a while," Colin said. She wasn't sure, but she thought she detected a slight slur in his speech. Maybe she should rethink her desire. She really didn't need another complication in her life.

The night moved on; Kelly belted out tune after tune, some pick-me-up fast and some melancholy and slow. She almost hated to use those numbers, wondering how it would affect the stranger, but she had to keep a variety going for the entire audience. She couldn't cater to just one customer, although he seemed to be first and foremost in her mind. She chided herself for letting him affect her so.

When he removed himself from the barstool about half-way through the evening, she feared he was leaving. The thought flitted through her mind that maybe it was for the best, but she saw him take a table in the back corner and found herself feeling relieved.

When the final note of the evening sounded, Colin was way beyond the point of enjoying it. The eight beers he had consumed had been a long way from his limit. Never before had there ever been more than two in a sitting. He sat slumped in the booth, not completely comatose, but not aware of his surroundings.

"Guys, I think I'll decline our late night ritual of beer and pizza tonight." Kelly said as she wound the cord aroung the mike.

"Man, you're not dumping us for sleeping beauty, are you?" Conie asked.

"Yeah. I don't think you're going to have a very productive evening with that guy, Kel." B.J. chimed in as he dumped a drum in its case.

Kelly took a peek at the slumped-over figure in the back with a feeling of regret. Maybe she was dead wrong about this one.

"You guys worry about yourselves. I'll be just fine with my plans."

She finished her part in loading equipment and saw the guys off before heading to the back booth. The man was dead to the world, but now there was no turning back. Brad was getting ready to close up and she couldn't leave him here. He would be fed to the authorities and spend his night in the clink. Brad had no sympathy for those that couldn't hold their alcohol. But she couldn't blame him. There was probably more of that type that even she realized, and she had seen plenty.

She solicited Brad's help in getting him to her car, and closed her ears to his chastising. When she arrived at her apartment, she was lucky enough to run into her neighbor, returning from a party, to help with getting him upstairs and inside. Colin was deposited on her sofa, never aware that he had been taken away from the bar.
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More later. Slowly but surely, you'll find out what's up.

SS

Friction between the bothers Mallory?

Date: 9/5/2000
From: DieselMickeyDolenz

I like it. It's different than the petty infighting Peckerhead subjected us to in S3, too. Now, what could be the cause of all this tension? And might this Kelly have a sister? I wonder.

Diesel
Mickey
Dolenz

Original URL http://www.scifi.com/bboard/browse.cgi/1/5/1095/2818
Nominated by DieselMickeyDolenz