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Original
January 2008; last modified March 15, 2009. Please see the endnote
for disclaimers, credits and all that good stuff.
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Thirteen
Years Sideways
a Blood Ties (TV) fanfiction
G
by Amy
R.
|
"But why thirteen years?"
Vicki asked for the third time since Mike bought a newspaper three blocks
ago. She could hear him tapping it, rolled up, against his hand, over to
her left. Coreen, behind them, jingled whenever her dangling earrings hit
her necklace -- necklet -- neck brace -- whatever that molded metal thing
was. Vicki didn't hear Henry at all, but she knew he was there.
"And why am I the one leading this little parade, anyway? Coreen, get
up here and play scout."
"What am I looking
for?" Coreen stepped up obligingly.
"Good question," Mike
said. "I think we need to just stop and think for a minute
here."
"Detective Celluci isn't
wrong," Henry agreed as they all came to a halt on the deserted sidewalk.
"Thanks so much for your
support, Fitzroy." Mike snorted. "Look, we can't just walk
around the city aimlessly all night, hoping to bump into a clue and not bump
into someone we know -- knew -- will know -- whatever. It's a safe bet
that our credit cards don't work any better than our cell phones here in the
past. So we should start by taking stock of our resources. How much
cash do we have, and do we have any sort of contacts we can use?
Anything? Anyone?"
Vicki and Mike produced seventy-five
dollars between them. Coreen had three loonies and a bus pass that might
look enough like its predecessors to get by.
Henry had nothing.
"Believe me, if I had known I would be traveling back in time, I would have
come better equipped."
Vicki sighed. Mike was
right. They needed a place to spend the night -- and maybe more to the
point, Henry needed a place to spend the day. A little food wouldn't be
off the mark, either. She was tempted to say that this was the weirdest
thing that had happened to her yet, but, really, it wasn't. Being tossed
back in time thirteen years? Hah! Child's play. As long as
there was a way to get back...
