The Aftermath of Duping Archer

[Arcadia Caughey]

[ This thread is essentially closed, though Sam or the Doctor can ask to post if they wish. ]

It was the first time Arcadia and Archer saw each other since before Beltane. When the fight began at his lab, it was just before midnight. It wasn't long before Archer turned his back on his sister and started to pace in his typical mounting frustration, and it wasn't long after that before he poured some scotch. Arcadia was counting on both of those inevitabilities in order for her risky, dubious plan to reconcile their differences to work. Thanks to her vampiric quickness Archer saw nothing at all by the time he turned back around. And once he started drinking Arcadia had watched him carefully, her retorts smooth and not in the least distracted as she waited to see just how much he'd have to drink for the liquor-diluted potion to take effect.

The answer came almost an hour later - nearly four glasses. After the second to last sip the glass was dropped, Archer was doubled over, and the playing field of the argument entirely changed. Naturally he was furious. There was no doubt that his anger unleashed in a manner in which Arcadia had never seen before simply because of what the potion she'd slipped into his drink had done to him - only temporarily, of course. But even within his fury that she'd duped and changed him into something he thought their blood should never be, he was trying to hold on, keep control and ignore it. Despite her playing dirty pool, he was determined to win.

The first hour he'd done admirably trying to fight the changes - to ignore the feeling of the two lengthened teeth in his mouth, the heightened senses, the hunter's instincts and the upsetting lack warmth and the beat of his heart. But it was the hunger that got him in the end. It overwhelmed him to the point that it clouded the logic of the genius making all his frustrations feral ones, and that was the last thing Arcadia was counting on in order for this night to succeed. In that moment of weakness, she persuaded him to go out with her and experience the life.

That was then - 2am. This was now - nearly 7am. Dawn had just started to shed its glow on the horizon, but there wasn't a whisper of proof of that in Archer's bedroom where the pair of them were draped sloppily over the bed fresh returned from the night's events. Shut off safely from the coming light of the sun, the siblings lay there in silence. It was a silence that beat in Archer's ears like a collection of loud drums. If there was one thing his preternatural hearing had taught him tonight, it was that even silence had sound. It was a lesson he'd learned once before in very different circumstances, somewhere a long way from where he was right now. He didn't want to be reminded of it.

Which is why he sighed. To keep the quiet from being so quiet. Even though he felt heavy and tired he was determined to stay awake until this damn potion wore off and he got his prized humanity back. It wouldn't be long now - thirty minutes or so. He knew because he was a genius. In fact the only reason she'd managed to pull the wool over his eyes in the first place was because of a sheer dumb luck technicality. He decided after a clear of his throat that he'd inform her of that fact. "Y' know if my taste buds weren't dead I'd have tasted my work in that drink in two seconds flat and this night wouldn't've happened."

She didn't move a muscle, she didn't open her eyes, the sleep-laden Arcadia simply replied in her crooning brogue, "Y' know if I didn't know your taste buds weren't dead I wouldn't o' used that particular method o' delivery."

Archer rolled his eyes. Hands rubbing at his face. He gave his head a jerk from side to side to try to try and shake the sleep off of him. Just thirty more minutes, he could last for thirty more minutes. "Fine. I'll just fix my tasters then. So next time when you have a hankering to play dirty - "

"There won't be a next time, Archer."

She interjected that so calmly, so certainly, it got under his skin. And came out as a disbelieving hoot. "Oh yeah? So you're telling me that tonight was just a one time thing, that now that you've gotten what you've obviously always secretly wanted you're not going to try to get me to give this a second go, a third go, however many go's it takes to make you a bit less lonely being the only vampire on your block when Adrian's on business?"

His words made her open her eyes. The deep, alluring violet pools reflected hurt and a spark of anger. It was the only hint of it, however, as Arcadia's tone remained as ever untouched by what was within. "This had nothin' t' do with m' feelings, whims or how I wish t' pass m' time with you or anyone else."

He scoffed. Propping himself up on his elbows so that he could look down at her, to see the full picture maybe. Or maybe it was just typical him, wanting to stand taller when it was possible an argument was coming. "Oh it didn't? Then tell me Caddy, what DID inspire this bright idea?"

Her gaze was steady, steely, upon him. In such moments, Arcadia gave off the sense that she was sturdier than the oldest of rock or the most solid of ground. There was a purse to her lips as she replied with her eternally zen tones, "M' Da did. On Beltane Conaire said that I must."

[. . .to be continued. . .]

[Arcadia Caughey]

Her answer caught Archer by surprise. He recovered quickly though, his tone indicating his disbelief. "What? I'm going to have to call shenanigans on that one. Your Da and I aren't close, but," Archer shrugged as he gave his sister his best Captain of Logic look, "I know him well enough to know that's not his style. Why would it be? I've told you a thousand times that vampiric blood a contaminant, a poison - "

"Enough." Arcadia said it sharply, the snap to the single word telling him he should really think twice about continuing. The ice in her glare warned him of the very same thing as she rolled over with preternatural quick and had his neck and the underside of his chin gripped tightly in her hand within an instant. While Archer tried to pull away, the strength of her fingers proved too great and the resulting squeeze caused him a great deal of discomfort so he stilled. They were nose to nose now, making it difficult for him to set his eyes anywhere else but on her own. And that is exactly what she wanted. "Y' insufferable bastard," she spat at him with a growl rumbling underneath each word. "For a few moments longer ye are ruled by a potion which used m' blood t' temporarily change you into what I am. Do y' realize what that makes me t' you?"

His set his jaw tightly within her grip. Archer was a genius. He knew the answer to her question, even if he hadn't thought about it until now. And even though he didn't want to speak the answer, it came from him nonetheless because every fiber of him could feel it was what she demanded. "My sire."

"Aye." The word was hissed at him, her upper lip drawing back enough that Archer could see the tips of her sharpened teeth in her sneer. "The genius didn't think o' that trick up m' sleeve, did he? So y' get t' shut your damnable smug mouth and listen like your life depended on it, clear?" She could feel, and see, the other parts of his body tensing, but she didn't need such signals to know that Archer was less than pleased at this latest turn of events. It didn't matter. She had just spoken a command, and it was one he would find impossible to ignore. As evidenced by barely spoken reply:

"Yes."

"Glad I've finally won after all these years." Arcadia said it calmly, but with the sort of calm that sounded upon the air cold as ice. She released her hand to clench it down on his one shoulder, shifting her arm in a diagonal so he'd feel the uncomfortable press of her elbow underneath his chin, pushing down on his windpipe. He didn't need to breathe at the moment, and Arcadia was taking advantage of that to put him in a hold that gave him a taste of humble pie. She'd reached at her limit with him, to be sure.

And now it was time to set it all straight. "Da came t' me on Beltane, called by me as always, t' perform the holy acts. But this time he came with a message from the Powers that Be. The rituals are t' be performed only by the livin' Legacies, he said. Y' know better Arcadia, he said. And do y' know what he said when I told him your pompous ass won't do magical works?" She lifted her elbow just enough that his windpipe was freed of the former pressure, cocking her brow at him as a release of her power silently commanded him to answer the prompt.

Archer did. With a growled distempered single word reply, but he obeyed the command as he was forced lay still and endure this lecture. "What."

"M' so glad y' asked." she replied snarkily as she pressed her weight down on him again. "He said it was my job t' find a way that I could flip us over so that we can each see what the other sees, he said the Powers required us t' perform the rituals o' the Solstice together, he said it was my duty t' get y' trained up for that, and that once again I had to be a better person and suffer through ye treatin' me like 'm a fool or a child or both t' try and reconcile, and t' top it all off he said it was because th' greater good now requires greater sacrifice but let me tell you somethin' Archer, m' done sacrificin'!" She bellowed those words right in his face with little care about anyone outdoors overhearing, and then lowered her voice to hiss right into his dumbfounded face, "because me Da also said that I won't see him again until y' stop bein' a child and do the part o' your duty that requires performin' rites o' magic. I lost m' father when I was six-years-old, y' stupid high-and-mighty git, so don't mistake me when I say I'll force m' blood down your throat right now against your will t' make your change permanent before I let your stubbornness take him from me again!!"

Needless to say, Arcadia had decided it was high time that Archer was introduced to a side of her that he'd never before seen - one that was not about to put up with any more of his condescending shit.

[. . .to be continued. . .]

[Archer Caughey]

"Arcadia." To find that he had ownership over his tongue was only a small relief right now. To Archer this didn't seem like his sister anymore. She was reminding him of one of her splits right now. Lita. He'd yet to do well with Lita. He had to be calm. He had to be logical about this. He had to say the right thing. So he could make a decision about how to maneuver this situation. Time was on his side, only a few short minutes left. It was just a choice about whether to make a move believing this was Lita talking, or believing this was just a very enraged Arcadia. "Revenge isn't - ."

"This isn't revenge. This is logic." The hiss on her tongue was feral as she spun his precious word against him. The pressure of her elbow on his throat increased. If he wanted to speak now he'd have to croak. When she let him speak, that is. "If being your Sire is the only way I can make ye t' see my side o' things and make y' do what the Powers that Be demand needs t' be done? I'll do it. The Powers already made me spit in the face o' everythin' I believed in when they demanded I bring y' back from death. Maybe it's high time for you were forced t' sacrifice all you believe in t' serve the cause. Hm?"

Her reply proved Archer's instincts wrong - even if it was hard to believe, this ill-tempered banshee threatening him was still Arcadia. He winced as she chose that moment to grind her elbow deeper into his throat. Telling himself to relax, that he could do this, he looked her dead in the eyes and pulled out his own ace in the hole. Speaking mind to mind. A door she'd forgotten to shut. You'll sacrifice the legacy with it. Remember Samantha miscarried? I don't have an heir. Where's the logic in that? By his estimation he just had to stall her for ten more minutes before he could really fight back.

Don't speak unless asked. And so she shut that door as well. Giving her glaring brother a rather triumphant grin. Look at the clock. Her command was his wish. And as she watched him obey she leaned down to speak into the ear his head turn had presented to her. "How much time do we have left? Ten minutes, nine at best? Do y' really think I haven't also been keepin' track? Despite your belief all these years, Archer, genius runs in the family. Until now we've been equals, and it isn't I today that has met her match."

"Besides," Arcadia released him and sat up rather suddenly, her voice shifting to one of great merriment as she patted him encouragingly on the chest. "Y' can do what I did. A blood exchange t' choose t' make your heir in the very unlikely case o' your death. Because y' do realize that, aye? That you'll be the legacy for a long, long, long time."

Archer listened to what she had to say. He breathed in. He breathed out. He stared at the clock on his nightstand, one he'd built himself. He found it ironic she made him stare at it of all things when she didn't know what the clock signified to him. Twelve years ago he built it in preparation for leaving Conaill for the first time to start the search the Elders had told him he had to go on. To find the Legacy of Donagal - Arcadia. An impossible task, they told him, as she had been missing for nearly fifty years. A possible task, he'd replied, because he was a genius. And he'd proved it. It took him two years, but he proved it.

That clock on his nightstand was a testament to what he gained the night he'd found Arcadia. Because it gave the time for multiple things. Not just the time of day.

And because he went so willingly quiet, because he went so willingly still, Arcadia found her gaze fixed on the instrument too. For the first time since she'd taken control of this situation she was at loss, and it showed in a frown. What was he thinking? It irritated her that she was forced to wager a guess. Or...she could let him tell her. Yes, why not. Seven whole minutes left, it couldn't hurt to let him speak.

Power pulsed from her, commanding that should he choose to move he could do no more than sit up. As she moved back from him entirely, she folded her arms across her chest and said curtly. "If y' have somethin' t' say, Archer, say it."

She doubted that he'd say anything that could save him. In the ten years of knowing him he hadn't managed a single intelligent word when it came to her yet.

[. . .to be continued. . .]

[Archer Caughey]

He chose not to sit up, or to make any other kind of move. He'd rather be looking at the clock when he said this. "Do you see that second set of numbers in the upper left hand corner, Arcadia? Four million, eight hundred and eighty-eight thousand and eighty?" Just after he drew her attention to it, the number clicked to eighty-one. "Those minutes are calculating something different than the time between midnight to midnight. I built this clock when the Elders told me to go looking for you. And I set that function into motion that first night I found you, right after I saw you fall asleep next to me. At long last, I thought to myself, the other half of me is right beside me. I thought, now my life had really started. And I wanted to know, for the rest of my life, how many minutes ago it was since my life had really begun. So I flipped the switch and then I went to sleep. Four million, eight hundred and eighty-eight thousand and eighty-two minutes ago."

Archer turned his head. So his flat grey eyes could look dead into her own. "You know what happened the next morning. But just in case you need the refresher, I woke up and you were gone. No trace of you, to the point where if there hadn't been..." He shook his head, looking back at the clock. "You were real. You weren't a ghost. That's what made it even worse. There was no ethereal force pulling you away from me. You chose to ditch me, and run from me, and hide, and if you hadn't stayed put at the Society I probably never would have caught up with you." The counter clicked to four million, eight hundred and eighty-eight thousand and eighty-three minutes. Enough minutes left for him to finish saying his piece and give her time to make her choice. He couldn't tell how any of this was affecting her. It was like staring into the face of a statue. Blank. Stone.

That was fine. It didn't change the fact that he wasn't done with what he had to say. "So. If you're telling me that the only way for you to have whatever victory or peace of mind that you need to finally be happy to live as the other half of me for every minute after this one is to make me what you are so that you can make me agree with you like a Stepford brother for the rest of our lives, then please do it. Four million, eight hundred and eighty-eight thousand and eighty-four minutes of spinning in this hamster wheel is enough." His piece spoken, Archer let his head fall back against the bed, and stared up at the ceiling. "You have plenty of time."

As if the business about the night they met, the morning after, and the reality of the clock didn't pang enough. He had to say that last bit, about the hamster wheel. It reminded her of something her Da had said - Y' and Archer have fallen into a cycle, one that unlike th' seasons is neither healthy nor helpful. It must come to an end, Arcadia. Before harm comes t' pass as a result o' your feudin'. If she turned him now, it would just be continuing the cycle. Her controlling him in the manner which she felt he was always trying to control her. Arcadia's gaze dropped, her ire dwindling before sputtering out entirely.

The clocked ticked to four million, eight hundred and eighty-eight thousand and eighty-five, and then to eighty-six before Arcadia spoke any sort of answer. "Will..." Her voice failed her. That didn't happen often, and it was a sure sign of something. As was the slight clear of her throat, and the lump she felt in the throat when she swallowed. "will ye do the rituals, Archer, please?"

Archer sat up. There was only one minute to go, maybe two. But that wasn't a worry anymore. "Aye, Caddy. I will."

What the Powers that Be had charged her to do was now done...but Arcadia felt far from settled. Still she nodded, folding her hands in her lap. "Alright."

When the clock ticked to four million, eight hundred and eighty eight thousand and eighty-seven Archer was restored to normal. He looked at Arcadia. Arcadia looked back at him. Then Archer reached around the back of the clock, pressing in a button he never pushed before. It made another number appear, this one in the upper right hand corner. That number was one. Clearly it signified a new start for them...but there was a rather large can of worms that had been opened this morning which dictated they had a lot to talk about.

......perhaps after the pair of them got some sleep.

-fin-

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