Subject: Chance Encounter 1/1 Date: Wed, 13 Apr 2005 13:03:03 -0700 From: Kristen Fife To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU I wrote this for the slinky contest a few months back. Flashback of Nick's based on some research I did into the lives of the founders (link at the end of the story.) General disclaimers I don't own Nick, just borrowing him. ================================ As Nick was walking through the park, a strange sound caught his attention. A metallic sounding "swoosh" was souding over to the right. His curiosity aroused, and needing a distraction from his latest argument with LaCroix, he headed toward the strange sound. The late autumn leaves skittered across the pavement, the dry rasping of their passage adding to the strangeness of the night. The gibbous moon had retreated behind a cloud, and the sound of an owl startled him, so close to the city. But even thriving Philadelphia was quiet at four in the morning the weekend before Halloween. The sounds of traffic sounded in the background. He was still getting used to the sights and sounds of this century, so different from previous times. In the post-war era of the 1950's, the States were an interesting place. There was an undercurrent of rebellion and unrest among the youth of the generations, and social changes were almost cataclysmic. It was a vibrant place and time, and he was enjoying it. He was taking a break from Chicago and his teaching duties to visit an old friend newly come to the Philadelphia. Not sure how LaCroix had traced his movements, he had stormed out of the building. He had just left Victor's home and had decided to walk across the park to his hotel in an effort to cool down from the anger of his confrontation with LaCroix. Veering silently toward the strange sound, he heard the heartbeat of a mortal over the strange repeating "swoosh", which was oddly relaxing. He made small sounds as he approached so as not to startle the woman he could discern sitting alone on a park bench ahead of him. Her back was to him, and he could smell her blood scent, redolent of apples, nutmeg and a hint of smokiness, all scents he associated with autumn and harvest throughout the centuries. Her brown hair was pulled back in an elaborate twist. As he walked around the front of the park bench, he could finally see what was making the sound. It was an object that spilled between her hands, glinting in the pale light from the stars and the distant park lights. It was a fluid and moving river of metal, reminding him of something he couldn't quite place. Finally he placed it. It looked like a fluid and compact spring. He looked into her face, a long oval with deepset eyes, sadness etched upon it. It was not a lovely face, but there was a strength of character and a determined set of the chin to it. She appeared to be in her forties or so. She was wearing a pink wool tweed coat, which his sensitive eyes could make out. The pain radiating from her called to him on a deep level. He approached, trying to alert her to his presence without coming across as threatening. Finally she looked up at him, although her hands never ceased moving, the rhythmic sound of the object sofly swooshing between them. He cleared his throat. "I hope I'm not intruding. I heard a strange sound and followed it here. May I sit?" She studied him and sighed. "If you want to. I'm not very good company." She looked back down at the object in her hand. Puzzled and a bit intrigued, Nick sat down, his eyes riveted to the spring in her hand. "May I ask what that is? I've never seen or heard anything quite like it." She stopped her hands' movement, the silence sudden and loud . She stared off into the distance toward a stand of trees for several seconds before she spoke. "It's a children's toy. My husband invented it after the war. We called it a 'Slinky.' " She was silent for a moment, then continued. "This piece of twisted metal changed our lives. We had been struggling financially. Richard had been working on this idea he had for two years, and we borrowed money from my parents to produce a bunch of them to sell. Richard convinced the manager at Gimbel's to let him demonstrate it. We sold out of the entire stock we had in a short time." She turned to look at him. "By the way, my name is Betty, Betty James." "Nick Forrester. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. James." "Mr. Forrester, have you ever wished you could go back in time and undo a decision you've made?" He nodded. "Yes, I made a mistake a very long time ago and it haunts me and shapes my life every day." She studied his face and nodded to herself in satisfaction. "Yes, I believe you do know what I mean. My husband and I built a secure financial future based on this toy, this "slinky". And it doesn't mean anything to me. My husband has just announced to me and our oldest children that he is leaving the country, that he has seen the error of his ways, his love of money. He has been bleeding our company dry, donating money to this religious group he got messed up with. And now I'm going to have to figure out how to provide for my six children. I have nothing, Mr. Forrester. Can you understand?" Nick looked at her. "I find that hard to believe. You say you and your husband worked on this fifteen years ago together, that you were with him. I get the impression that you can handle this, Mrs. James. You are a strong woman, and you CAN figure a solution out." She stared at him. "Mr. Forrester, I don't know why God put you on my path tonight, but I think you may have just given me the answer that I need. Thank you." She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, then got up. She turned to him and handed him the Slinky. "I'll always remember you, Mr. Forrester. Think of me every now and then." She walked away as Nick caught her singing under her breath "What walks down stairs alone or in pairs..." ================ Picture of Betty James: http://www.8sharp.com/www/inspired/insp_slinky.htm Additional information: http://www.theplaymakers.com/welcome/archives/000028.html Kristen Fife http://www.fkvoyage.com/fkfanfic/fife_kristen/ "I have a vampire by my side and I'm not afraid to use him!" -Tanya Huff