Disclaimers:  Poltergeist the Legacy concept and characters belong to Trilogy et al.  Original characters and story belong to the author.  No copyright infringement is meant.
Spoilers:  Late Fourth Season.                                    Rating:  PG-14.

Mysterious Ways:
The Threefold Cord

© 2000, Deb Taylor

Chapter One

It was raining again . . . not that this was a bad thing.  Most of the United States, including Baltimore, had suffered through a devastating drought for most of the summer.  Then, in September, the heavens had opened up and it seemed to Andrew Ramirez that it hadn't stopped raining since the first of the hurricanes hit.

That had been the previous autumn, in September.  It was the end of July now.  And it was raining again.  Andy muttered under his breath about the soggy weather, and the Toronto-raised Renee said without looking up from her book, "Quit whining, Andy . . . we need the rain.  You're starting to sound like that idiot psychiatrist in San Francisco."  Andy glared at the young woman . . . there was absolutely no need for her to be insulting!

Danielle Grant, who was from Vancouver, chimed in, "Listen to the lady . . . and this gives me the perfect opportunity to check out the new equipment in the rain."  Andy rolled his eyes . . . and they talked about men and their toys?  Dani added, "You've been in Baltimore for four years, this shouldn't be a problem for you."

Andy growled under his breath, then added, "It wouldn't be such a problem for me if Val wasn't due back tonight.  Hell, you know this kinda weather isn't exactly desirable for flying!  And even if the plane landed on time, she still has to get home with everything."  He was disconcerted by the expression in both sets of eyes.  The sympathy . . . though, thank God, not pity.  He couldn't handle pity.

Renee said quietly, "We're all concerned, Andy.  I hope you realize that you're not the only member of this House who loves Val.  But until she's late getting in, or God forbid, we see something on the news about a plane crash, we can't worry about her.  It would be a waste of energy, and we can't do anything about it."

"That doesn't help much," Andy muttered.  She was right, of course.  But he couldn't help himself.  He  always worried, that was part of who he was.  And he did know that he wasn't the only member of the House who loved Val.  But he had lost too many other people, outside this House and his parents, whom he had loved.  Andy didn't know if he could handle losing anyone else.  Especially Val . . . or, God forbid, her young niece Jasmine.

As if summoned by his very thought, the thirteen year old sprite danced into the study where Renee, Dani, and Andy waited.  She was almost as tall as her aunt, with long dark hair and dark eyes.  She looked a great deal like her mother, who had died before Andy joined Baltimore House . . . hell, before he had even joined the Legacy.  His career in Flagstaff was over, and he needed a fresh start when he saw a piece on the national news about a mysterious blaze in Baltimore.  It had killed five people, but that wasn't the strange part.

The strange part had been the fact that none of the five had died of smoke inhalation or suffocation.  They hadn't even burned alive.  The cause of death was, at that time, unknown.  Andy's journalistic instincts had yelled at him to investigate.  That decision changed his life forever.

Melanie Barton, Jasmine's mother and Val's older sister, had been killed only two weeks before Andy followed the trail of the story to the Barton sisters.  She had been thirty-one years old and killed just as mysteriously as the other five.  But where those had been by fire, supposedly, hers was by water.  Her car had veered into the bay, and she had drowned.  But again, things weren't always what they seemed.

An anonymous tip had led him to Dr. Valerie Barton, a historian.  A quiet, even mysterious, young woman, Val had intrigued Andy's interest, along with the dark-haired psychologist who never seemed to leave her side.  In time, he found evidence shattering his suspicion of both women.  But if Valerie Barton had engaged his interest, her fourteen year old sister Kerry and small niece Jasmine had touched his heart.  And because of those two young girls, Andy was slowly drawn into the Legacy.

Jasmine's excitement shattered Andy's reverie as she exclaimed, "Aunt Val's home!"  Andy bounded to his feet and followed Jasmine into the foyer, trailed by Renee and Dani. Jasmine chattered as they gathered in the foyer, "Tatya says to take Aunt Val into the kitchen, so she can drip-dry."

Andy stifled his laughter . . . yes, he was sure Tatiana Elliot, Baltimore House's resident psychologist, had said just that!  The woman in question joined them, observing, "Actually, what I said was, her clothes could drip-dry in the kitchen, and Val can take a nice hot bath . . . or shower."  She paused, fixed Andy with a steady look, and said, "And you, Andrew, will not watch!  You will avert your eyes, like a gentleman, even if Val is wearing nothing more than the clothes she was given at birth."

Andy raised his hands in mock surrender.  He was just glad to have Val home.  She had been in England during the last few weeks . . . as had been the case since William Sloan's disappearance nearly three years earlier, the Ruling House was a mess.  Their interim precept had died the previous year in San Francisco.  One damn thing after another.

Besides, the email which they had received from Val's godfather that morning had worried him.  Nathaniel Hughes had been in San Francisco and Boston recently, and said that his 'mission was accomplished.'   That had worried Andy, as did the priest's assertion that Val would understand.  What the hell did that mean?  And why had Bishop Hughes been in San Francisco?  Andy knew about the slaughter in Boston . . . an entire Legacy House had been wiped out within the last year.  But San Francisco?   San Francisco meant Derek Rayne, and Derek Rayne meant trouble.

"Hey, dreamer . . . wake up and get your butt up off that sofa!  The car is almost to the door!" Tatya said, rudely interrupting his memories.  Andy blinked, then realized what she had said.  They would need help unloading the car, which carried Val's luggage and bags of souvenirs.

"It's a davenport, Tatya, not a sofa.  We're the Legacy, we must use proper titles," Renee jibed.  Andy rolled his eyes, but did as he was told.  For added emphasis, Jasmine grabbed his hand and pulled with all of her strength.  Tatya had already headed for the door, opening it before the bell was rung.  She immediately drew a small, bedraggled figure into the foyer.  Val was completely drenched.

She flashed them a wan smile and said, "Hi, gang.  I'm home.  Miss me?"  She was immediately surrounded by the female members of her House, who clucked and fussed over her.  Andy stayed back, but his eyes met Val's.  She smiled wearily and added, "I only have two bags in addition to my luggage . . . no peeking."

"Right," said Dani, ever the pragmatist, "then you'll come with us to get these wet clothes off you, and we'll let everyone else unload the car.  No, no arguments . . . those were the doctor's orders, were they not, Tatya?"  The psychologist nodded and Val shrugged, evidently too tired to argue with both women.  Andy couldn't blame her . . . even when he was feeling totally awake, he had no desire to argue with these two Furies.  Val was younger than he was, but she was definitely smarter at times.

  Jasmine followed Tatya from the House, while Dani and Renee ushered Val into the kitchen . . . evidently to strip.  Andy looked after them, wondering what she should do. That decision was made for him just a moment later.  Tatya bellowed, "ANDREW!  Get your ass out here!  Are you gonna let a little girl half your size carry this stuff in by herself?  A big, tough guy like you?  You should be ashamed of yourself!"

Jasmine wasn't carrying the entire inventory of the car in by herself, but Andy took her meaning.  One of these days, he thought,  I would really, really like to strangle Tatya.  Sighing, he left the warmth and dryness of the House to unload the car.

*    *    *

God, it was good to be home.  England was lovely, despite the rain, but the last day had been pure insanity.  After dealing with smarmy creeps in London, who had tried to tell Val that she couldn't do something, (not a bright idea even for someone who knew her well), the bickering of her people sounded heavenly right now.

She had missed them all.  She had missed Tatya's bossiness, Andy's wry humor, Dani's practicality, Renee's sass.  And Jasmine.  God, how she had missed Jasmine.  Dani asked as she began drying Val's hair, "So what happened?"    In other words, what had happened on the last day of her trip?  Val tried to think of how she wanted to explain her run-in with Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum without getting angry all over again.  Was that even possible?  Was it possible to even think Edmund Tremain's name without wanting to scream?

She didn't think so.  Val had to content herself with, "Something needs to be done in London.  With Sloan gone, things have really spun out of control.  If the idiots would stay out of San Francisco, let Alex Moreau and Nick Boyle handle things for the moment, the Ruling House would be in better shape.  And don't even get me started on Edmund Tremain.  Renee, that computer program you ran across on the 'Net . . . did anything come of it?  Or was it a red herring?"

"Red herring . . . sorry, Val.  Oh, and speaking of San Francisco, your godfather emailed the House today.  In the excitement over what happened in England, with the Ruling House, we didn't get a chance to tell you," Renee answered.  Val frowned, and Renee added, "His message was a bit on the cryptic side."

"Uncle Nathaniel has been in the Legacy for too long.  He's starting to sound like a precept," Val answered dryly. That evidently struck both women as hysterically funny, for they began laughing helplessly.  Val just sighed, then forced herself to concentrate on her godfather's message, asking, "So, what exactly was this cryptic message that Uncle Nathaniel left in our email box?"

"He said to tell you, 'mission accomplished.'  He said that you would know what he meant," Dani explained as she helped Val put on her bathrobe.  The young woman frowned, trying to remember what exactly her godfather meant.  He had been trying to do something other than recruit for Boston House, but what else had he been trying to do?

And then she remembered.  With her godfather's promotion to bishop, that left a vacancy in Baltimore House.  While Uncle Nathaniel would remain in the Legacy, he had other responsibilities now.  And he wanted to make sure Baltimore House was well-protected.  Recalling her early years, Val had asked why he couldn't get a rabbi . . .  they were holy men, too.  Uncle Nathaniel had said no . . . it had to be another priest.  He was very insistent, and said he knew just the man for the job.

Unfortunately, he hadn't seen fit to tell Val whom he had chosen as his successor.  Nor had he trusted her judgment . . . Val was a pagan, but she knew plenty of priests whom she could trust.  Some of whom even let her believe as she pleased.  She told her friends now, "Uncle Nathaniel decided that since he had other responsibilities now that he's a bishop, we needed another priest.  He's been trying to find a successor."

"So, he's been trying to find a successor for Baltimore House, and re-populate Boston House.  He said something to me about fresh talent home-grown in Boston.  Whatever that means.  That's a tall order . . . still doesn't explain what he was doing in San Francisco," Renee mused, shaking her long blonde hair out of her eyes.  Then she smiled impishly, adding, "I would have used the 'Net."

"I don't know what was going on with San Francisco.  And when I don't know, I probably don't want to know, either.  Especially when it involves San Francisco.  As for the 'Net . . . we're supposed to be a secret society, 'Nee. That wouldn't work too well," Val reminded her friend, and Renee's impish grin widened.   The precept tried not to respond, since she knew she would end up laughing.  And if she laughed . . . as tired as she was, she knew she would end up getting giddy.

Val lost the battle, but won the war . . . she was too tired even to be giddy.  She laughed a little helplessly, but without much real energy.  Dani said firmly, "Okay, to the shower and then to bed.  No, don't give me any lip, Valerie . . . the presents and the news can wait until tomorrow.  You're a zombie, and you need your rest."

"No argument from me, dear.  Renee, if you wouldn't mind helping me?" Val requested.  It was embarrassing, having to ask for help to walk up the stairs, but Val's exhaustion was bordering on physical collapse.  Besides, the news from Uncle Nathaniel had reminded her that she wanted to talk to Renee.  She had nothing against her godfather's probable choice of successors, but she hoped she was wrong.

Dani grinned and went out to help the others carry Val's bags into the House.  Once more, the young precept smiled. It was good to be home.  Even with the bickering and sniping, it was still good to be home.  Because it was the bickering and sniping of her people.

Now, Val thought as she and Renee headed upstairs to the warmth and solitude of Val's bedroom,  after I get some rest, I need to talk to Uncle Nathaniel.  Based on what he told me before he left, I think I know whom he's chosen as his successor.  And if I'm right, that will open up a whole 'nother can of worms, especially when Andy finds out.  I'm not as worried about the other ladies. But, she could only concentrate on one thing at a time.  And right now, getting some rest was at the top of her priority list.  Along with one warning.

Renee had known something was up when Val asked her to help her upstairs.  So, as soon as Dani left, Renee put her arm around Val's waist and asked softly, "What did you want to talk to me about?"  Val blinked in surprise.  It must be the exhaustion, Renee decided,  that's the best explanation for her being so surprised that I asked.

However, instead of calling her precept on it, Renee smiled at her friend, adding, "Don't look so surprised, Val. You usually have a reason for asking someone to help you. Actually, when you come right down to it, half the time, we have to force you to accept help, for anything.  What's on your mind?"   A rueful smile flashed across her friend's face, rueful and exhausted. Renee's concern was intensifying.

"I don't know if you have to force me to accept help, but . . .  And it's Uncle Nathaniel which is causing me the most concern at the moment.  He didn't tell me whom he had chosen as his successor, but I have a feeling I know.  Renee, I didn't tell you this earlier, because I didn't want to spook you, but Uncle Nathaniel showed me pictures before he left on his own journey," Val replied.

She paused, then continued, "They were pictures of the late Boston House.  They numbered three at the end, Jane Witherspoon was searching for more members before her death.  Jane was the precept . . . another member was Chris Newman.  And the final member was a young woman, named 'Kristen Adams.'   She could have been your twin."

Renee stopped in her tracks and looked at Val, barely able to breathe.  She resembled the late Kristen Adams that closely?  Val nodded, adding, "When I found the picture of Kristen, I asked Uncle Nathaniel why a picture of you was in the pictures of Boston House.  The likeness is incredible.  That was when he told me that was a picture of the late Kristen Adams . . . not you.  Even the expressions were similar."

That was mind-boggling by itself.  But Val wasn't finished.  She continued in a low voice, "And Renee, Kristen wasn't alone when she died.  Derek Rayne and Nick Boyle from San Francisco were both there.  There was one other person.  A priest, named Philip Callaghan.  And, I believe, Uncle Nathaniel's chosen successor."

Renee could see where her friend was going with this.  She said softly, "So, if you're right, when Father Callaghan sees me . . ."  Val bobbed her head.  At best, she would give the new priest a few bad moments.  At worst . . . Renee knew very little about the details of Kristen's death.  And in that moment, Renee realized she had to learn everything.  The why, the how . . .   everything.  That was the only way she could make her appearance a little less traumatic for the man who would, in all likelihood, be their new priest.

Continued

Email the author!
[email protected]

Back to Main 'PTL' Fanfic Index

Back to Main Library Index         Back to Main Fanfiction Index

Adventures of Sinbad   ~~~     Andromeda   ~~~     Angel   ~~~     Babylon5   ~~~     BeastMaster: The Series   ~~~     Beauty & the Beast
Buffy the Vampire Slayer   ~~~     Charmed  ~~~     The Crow: Stairway to Heaven   ~~~     Crusade   ~~~     due South   ~~~     Farscape
Gundam Wing   ~~~     Highlander: The Series   ~~~     Miscellaneous Fiction   ~~~     Mortal Kombat   ~~~     Mortal Kombat: Conquest
Poltergeist the Legacy   ~~~     Raven   ~~~     (TSAo) Jules Verne  ~~~     The Sentinel   ~~~     Stargate SG1   ~~~     Star Trek: Voyager

I can't fix it if I don't know it's broken, so if you see anything wrong,  please let me know.  Thank you and enjoy your stay!