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She’s Got a Ticket to Ride

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Nina hadn’t seen Angel for months and then he unexpectedly sought her out to urgently convince her to take her family and leave L.A. by dawn, because something was brewing between the forces of good and evil; something that might have dangerous consequences to all of the demon life in L.A. He unceremoniously thrust an envelope filled with cash and airline tickets into a stunned Nina’s out stretched hands. Then she didn’t think it could happen twice in a row, but he stunned her again by explaining why he stopped seeing her, telling her that even though he couldn’t be with her, he still cared about her and then he got up and walked out of her life for the last time.

Her emotions were roiling inside as she walked away from the bench in the dimly lit quad at her art school where she’d sat listening to Angel earnestly talk about not wanting to hurt her and in the same breath, his face lit up when he talked about her rival. She’d had occasion to study his face well and she knew that he’d never had that shyly tender expression when referring to her.

When he left, she spitefully thought that if something were to happen to the demons in this town, it’d serve Angel and his lover right if it happened to them too. Hurling herself from the bench, she stomped her way to the bus stop; of all the inconvenient times for her car to be in the shop.

It just seemed that nothing had gone right for her this year; first being turned into a werewolf and then finding the man of her dreams and having him stolen away by the vampire of his dreams, and a male vampire at that! The more she thought of it, the more it enraged her, as she angrily paced up and down the street while waiting for her bus. A few minutes later, a patrol car with its red and blue lights flashing, pulled up beside her.

The uniformed officer got out and stalked around the car to the sidewalk. When he reached the beautiful blonde, he grabbed her by the left arm, twisting it up behind her shapely back and grabbing her other wrist, he snapped on a pair of handcuffs, saying with a smirk, “You picked the wrong cops beat to ply your trade on, Trixie!”

He grudgingly read her rights to her and each time she tried to interrupt and explain, he told her to save it for her lawyer and the judge. Shoving her into the back of the car, they took off for the station where she was finger printed, her mug shots taken, and then she was given a very thin dime to make her single phone call. Still stunned, she must not have moved fast enough to make the call when a large, round-faced female officer with red hair pushed her along the corridor toward the cells.

Angry beyond words, she again tried to explain, but after having to listen to how stupid the entire L.A. police force was for arresting her in the first place, much less for prostitution and that she was a friend of the CEO of Wolfram and Hart with a battery of lawyers at her beck-and-call; the officer understandably got a little over zealous and gave her a stiff forearm to the lower back, sending Nina sprawling along the hard, cement flooring to the accompaniment of jeers and catcalls by the other prisoners in the occupied cells.

Apparently, the holding tank was overcrowded so she was placed in an empty cell at the end of the block. Seeing that belligerence didn’t work, Nina decided to be uncharacteristically patient and wait for the idiotic authorities to realize their mistake or for someone to at least recognize Angel’s title and call him - he’d straighten everything out. Her nose wrinkling in distaste, she gingerly brushed at the obviously rumpled and used linens on the cot and sat down in confident anticipation of her rescue.

Time ticked by as the hours passed in a surreal blur like in a Twilight Zone episode and before she knew it, the velvety darkness outside her barred window turned to the harsh reality of day. That reminded her of Angel’s anxious instruction to leave before dawn and she began to nervously worry at what would have the powerful vampire so alarmed for her safety. As if in answer to her unvoiced question, she suddenly began to feel her insides heat up until she was screaming and writhing in agony; the burning increasing until she felt that her very bones would incinerate.

The officer on duty hearing the screaming ran in to see what the commotion was about; when she saw the detainee in cell 1313 disintegrate and go poof into a pile of ash. Looking at the mess, she thought to herself, ‘Damn demons!’ Then she calmly walked over to the phone on the wall and brushing her red curls out of the way to place the receiver against her ear and dialing the operator, said genially, “Hey, Flo, it’s Lynn down in holding. We need the janitor over here ASAP . . . yeah; we had another one of those spontaneous combustible thingys!

Moral of the story: Harm none in word, thought or deed lest its evil turn back on you.

 

~The End ~