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Date: Sun, 12 May 1996 16:24:52 -0400
From: Apache 
Subject: Ashes to... *Something*

SPOILER for Ashes to Ashes

S
P
O
I
L
E
R

S
P
A
C
E







I wrote this in February
when I first found out
Vachon's life was going
to be cut short just
shy of his 500th birthday.
It turns out to be
impossible, but what the hey.
This was Denial, Phase One.




                Ashes to... *Something*



        "Wake up!"  The command was loud enough to accomplish itself.

        Tracy Vetter rolled over in bed.  "Whaa?" she murmured. She wasn't
a jumpy enough cop to keep her gun under the pillow, but it was close, and
she decided to fake drowsiness as long as she could.

        "I said, wake up."

        Tracy changed her mind.  She knew this voice.  In fact, of all the
possible voices in the universe to find in her bedroom at this hour, this
one might top the list.  Definitely right up there with Daniel Day-Lewis,
anyway.

        "Hi," she said, sitting up and smiling.  "What brings you here?"

        Javier Vachon was standing in her bedroom, dressed in black, and
looking very murky in the dim light.

        "I have a news flash for you," he said.  Hostility soaked through
his tone.

        "What's the matter?  And why are you mad at me?  I haven't done
anything... have I?"  //Who knows what bothers vampires... maybe I ate some
food he doesn't like the smell of?  Was there garlic in that pizza?//

        "No.  Somebody else did."  His tone moderated.  "Remember the time
you asked me if I was a ghost?"  Tracy nodded, "sure." Vachon crossed his
arms.  "The answer to that question is now 'yes.'"

        "What!"  Now Tracy was beyond awake.  "This isn't funny."

        "No shit, Goldilocks," said Vachon, angry again.

        Tracy closed her eyes.  //This is a really bad dream.//

        "No it's not," the vampire snapped.  "Pay attention."

        "Drop dead," she snapped back.  //Oh god, the Unconscious strikes
again...// "I mean... chill."  //And again...// She closed her eyes again,
concentrating on getting to a neutral vocabulary.  "Please tell me what
happened."

        "I'm dead, Jim," said the vampire mockingly.  "Deader than before."
Tracy opened her eyes.  "You don't look..."

        "Dead?"  the voice was bitter.  "Well, I never really did."

        "Why are you here?"  Tracy got out of bed and walked over to
Vachon.  "This is a severely sick joke, by the way.  Even for you."  She
stuck a hand out.

        It went right through him.

        Tracy's gasp lasted a good several seconds, a long, shocked intake
of breath.

        "Told you."  Now, at last, Vachon's voice took on the ironic humor
she was used to hearing from him.

        Tracy's legs folded under her and she fell backward onto the edge
of the bed.  "What.... what?"  She couldn't get any more words out.  She
would have sworn she was used to this supernatural stuff after six months
of seeing Vachon fly, grow fangs, bite a man to death (not to mention
nearly bite her), drink blood, let his rat-faced buddy drink blood from
him... but apparently not.

        "I'm your guardian angel now, blondie," said Vachon.  The
bitterness was back.

        Skipping the other information in this sentence, Tracy blurted,
"you're an ANGEL?"

        Vachon grinned.  "OK, ya got me.  I'm your guardian demon."




********
Apache