ratcatchers | Postlude 1: Matthieu

Angel homeworld: The Outlands (Angel equivalent of Deadtown)

Matthieu leaned his head against the door as he fumbled with the lock.

"Sixteen hours on my feet," he thought to himself wearily. "I hope Brodie has better luck on his end. God, I feel like death warmed over..."

"How many lives y'got left Cat," came the voice in street-slang Angel. Matthieu raised his head, only to feel a gun barrel press into the base of his skull.

"One more than you do unless you put that thing away."

"Not a chance," came the guttural reply. "I'm collecting a little debt for someone you screwed over a few weeks ago. Does the name Sidas Morin mean anything to you?"

"He sent you to soliloquy me to death? Y'know, most people would have just sent flowers." Matthieu opened his senses, tensing himself to move the instant an opening appeared.

He felt the barrel jerk slightly in time to the faint whine of a laser pistol powering up.

"Leave him...a-lone." came the electronic voice from behind him.

The instant he felt the barrel leave his head he kicked his feet out to the side, allowing himself to fall to his hands. A brilliant flash struck the wall by his door. As the ground met his hands, he used the momentum of his fall to swing his right foot around, striking the would-be assassin behind the legs. His left leg swung up, then down onto the assassin's thighs as Matthieu shifted his weight from his right hand to his left. The body struck the ground hard, and Matthieu swung his left leg back under himself, ready to finish the fight.

It was then that he noticed the smoking mass of tissue that once was the left side of the assassin's face. So, that explained the laser fire. He looked up quickly to see whom had just saved his life.

The tall figure was obviously female, wearing what vaguely appeared to be a flight suit in the dim light. She stepped forward to where a beam of moonlight illuminated her face and part of the box around her neck.

"Wrenn! What... what are you doing here?" He staggered to his feet and looked around quickly before closing the distance somewhat.

"I came for you," she replied in his head, using the personal channel he had given her.

"Oh, uh, thanks, that's great,... only...", he turned slightly away from her and scratched his head, his feet shuffling as he carefully considered his words. He looked up at her sheepishly, "I can't leave."

"I know. The Gate is closed." She looked at him with a puzzled expression.

Matthieu stared at her for a few seconds. "But,... that means you're trapped here. What about the Bottle of Rum?"

"They will survive without me." She quirked a half smile at him. "Although, you apparently can't."

Matthieu followed her gaze to the body lying in front of his door, then turned back to her.

"So, you, uh, looking for a job?"

"Seems to me, keeping you alive might be a full-time position in itself. But I'm open to suggestions."

Matthieu put his arm on her shoulder, directing her away from the smoking corpse. "Well, see, as luck would have it, I've been thinking of taking this show on the road, and we could use another pilot. Let's discuss this over a drink. I know this wonderful place known for it's ambiance. Of course, that ambiance occasionally involves gunfire, but that just lends the place character. And they let me run a tab. Although, Akon may still be pissed about my smashing a couple of his tables last week..."

The pair made their way into the dilapidated city.