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Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or its characters.
Summary: There is a bittersweet stillness that settles over Beacon Hills after Derek slays the Alpha and Scott now has a silent treaty with the Argents. It's a week after that stressful night and no one has seen heads or tails of Derek since. Stiles can't help but fidget when his thoughts come across the new Alpha. He knows it's dangerous but something inside is pulling Stiles towards the tragic Hale property. He blames it on reckless curiosity now that things are "boring" again.
Pairings: Derek/Stiles, Scott/Allison, Jackson/Lydia, FRIENDSHIP! Danny/Stiles
AN: I thank all of you for reviews, I survive off of them. Okay so hopefully I'm back on track now and I hope you enjoy!
The Demon I Cling To
A cigarette glowed amber in the dark desolate countryside near the county line of Beacon Hills as the man inhaled its deadly toxin; steady fingers dropped the cancer stick back to his side. He leaned against the grill of his pickup truck, the tires resembled those of a miniature monster truck; ready to crush anything less superior than itself. And the man was a reflection of his vehicle. Enlarged with muscle mass and already standing at an impressive height, he towered over most and always walked with a sense of purpose which made everyone part like a sea before Moses. There was a darkness to his eyes that was pure emotion rather than the shade of his irises for they were a blue that almost shone clear in the right light.
His Marlboro cigarette had burned to its orange stub with his final inhale and the man flicked it onto the road and watched as small sparks ignited with each abrupt contact with the asphalt.
Looking down the black length of the two lane road, he hissed a curse before reaching into his back pocket for another cancer stick. He was able to place the cigarette between his dry lips and ignite the lighter when a shock of LED lighting washed his presence in its glow.
He shielded his eyes and wished he could do the same with his ears as the significant roar and wail of a motorcycle accosted his eardrums.
Letting out a slew of curses that only he could comprehend (the cigarette falling forgotten to the ground), the man raised his burly arms and waved them back and forth before the noisy machine. He placed himself in the middle of the road just to make sure.
The motorcycle kept racing towards him, until the last possible moment before hitting the breaks. A loud skidding cry leapt through the cold night air and only a meter of empty road distanced the two as the bike and its rider stopped sideways. The black helmet was immediately removed to reveal the largest grin and wild vibrant eyes.
The man fully standing gave a grunt of displeasure and greeted his younger counterpart curtly, "Andy."
The gleeful look on Andy's face didn't fall and the grin just grew wider, "Paul."
Paul wasn't amused or affected by the airy jubilant aura that fell off this motorcyclist and growled out, "Could you have picked noisier transportation? We need to keep a low profile, we're hunters for god's sake!"
Andy rolled his eyes and glanced behind the mountain of a man, "Says the guy in the sweet sooped up pickup truck. Bet it growls just as much as you and spits out black smoke to boot."
Paul ignored this quip at him and continued, "And you're late. As usual."
Scoffing, the motorcyclist slowly led his puffing bike to the emergency lane behind Paul's monstrosity and shut the engine off. The night was almost deafening in its wake.
"Well it looks like I'm earlier than most. I don't see Jole gracing us with his presence as of yet." Andy swung a leg off his bike and stood a head shorter than Paul.
Paul grunted before whisking out his third cigarette and just holding it between thick fingers as he replied, "Jole is bringing us something that is quite difficult to transport."
He noticed the look of suspicion crossing Andy's face.
"You two have been like little school girls with your secrets. When are you going to invite me in your circle?"
Paul smirked, "I figured unpredictable men such as yourself enjoy surprises."
Andy threw him a glare, "I'm sure when you say 'unpredictable' you really mean 'unreliable'. I'm so sorry I don't meet your criteria as a hunter. But for some reason you still require my assistance…" Andy tilted his head then smirked as a thought occurred to him, "Oh yeah, maybe it's because I'm the only one 'unpredictable' enough to take on such a vapid and inane mission."
Paul tensed at the slight and began to stalk the short distance between the two men but stopped when lights flashed with much of the same fashion Andy's had, except there were two headlights now. Both men watched as the wide truck slowed down heavily and Paul knew it had to be Jole. The taller man's shoulders lost altitude with the new distraction in place and Paul quickly turned his interest from beating Andy's face in. The hefty black truck pulled over on their side of the road behind Andy's bike and cut the soft purring engine.
The driver's door swung open. A man almost as meaty as Paul himself got out and walked purposefully over to him, clapping the man heartily on the back of his shoulder in greeting. Paul returned the physical sentiment with equal amount of force and smiled wide.
"You made it in one piece." He started.
"Of course. After I heard you lost your sweet heart, had to come no matter what." Jole mostly growled out in a voice so dirty and deep, only continuous smoking could claim its distortion.
Paul nodded once, "And I'm grateful." He took a glance behind the large man to look at his truck with question evident in his eyes, "Did he cooperate or did you have to kill him?" He asked right out and noticed Andy's ears perked up at the odd question.
Jole looked over his shoulder as well.
"Fortunately for him and his lot, he folded quite nicely. Have you not been keeping up with the headlines?"
Paul chuckled, "You know me—always a current events man. And can I say, I've always been a fan of your work."
Jole looked pleased with himself to say the least as his chest got bigger and stance straighter, "You're not as creative as I am, my friend."
"No I am not," Paul agreed, "I was afraid the boy would crumble under the pressure."
"Well you know what it's like. These beasts will turn on each other in a heartbeat if it meant they'd live to pollute the Earth another day. They may look human on occasion but they're just slightly more evolved animals that need to be hunted and put down." Jole spat on the asphalt with disgust coloring his face.
Andy regarded Jole with uncertainty before the younger man introduced himself into the conversation, "Some say the same about us humans. That pesky little fact that we descend from apes…which happens to be an animal."
A long stiff silence fell between the small group of hunters as Jole sized up his comrade, the younger man didn't wither under the hard stare. Jole cleared his throat to end the stalemate, "Let's just keep our species at the top of the food chain, shall we? We've got work to do." Jole ended whatever disagreement that was being born and looked back to Paul with a silent inquiry of their next move.
Andy looked to Paul as well with raised eyebrows.
Paul nodded and took the lead.
"Beacon Hills inhabits a lot of forest area as you can see. So we'll have to start combing through them; that means looking for residences on the edge of town. And as taxing as it sounds I've come across real hunters that have seen carcasses of large animals ripped to shreds with no leads as to what did it. Now that we have our main weapon thanks to Jole here, we can cover more ground and get results." Paul grinned triumphantly.
Stiles had somehow managed to fall asleep during the night hours but that didn't mean his slumber was restful. On the contrary, the teen woke up with no blood in his left arm and right leg. His arm was trapped beneath his chest and was now just resurfacing; the limb felt like a dead fish. His right leg was lifted and resting on the wall that his mattress was pressed against. He actually slept like this…
Groaning, Stiles jiggled his hand and leg until the sensation of pins jabbing him relentlessly overcame the numbness. When his extremities were saved from death, the teen got up and painfully walked around his bedroom with a limp. He didn't know what to do next. The events of last night assaulted his brain like a tidal wave and he couldn't come up for air. He could feel the stinging from his eyeballs as his eyes got wider and wider in disbelief. Looking to the still pried open window as evidence, Stiles couldn't write it off as one very strange dream.
He walked over to the window as if he were impersonating a cyborg with very stiff joints and pulled down the pane of glass until it was securely closed. Automatically, his hand touched the lock with every intention of dragging the lever but fell short when Derek's hot breath ghosted across Stiles' brain.
He knew he enjoyed every second of last night's encounter with the werewolf. Even though there was fear and anxiety, Stiles was more inclined to embrace the excitement and arousal he had experienced instead. Before Derek had turned everything upside down with his visit, Stiles had convinced himself that he wasn't attracted to the man. But now, obviously he had been proven wrong—very wrong.
Stiles didn't allow himself to lock the window and walked in his cyborg fashion back to the bed. The bed where it happened. Letting out a shaky breath, Stiles needed to plan his next move. So…he what? …Liked Derek? Loved? Stiles shook his head fiercely at the embarrassing thought. No love, can't be love. But what was for certain was that he was attracted to Derek the way he was supposed to be attracted to girls. He wanted to feel Derek pulling his body close to the older man's again, feel that unbelievable warmth the man possessed and experience last night's encounter a million times over and possibly more. Stiles' groin gave an honest and agreeable twitch at that. So he was the girl instead.
"How did I end up like this?" Stiles groaned out loud but then another thought surfaced from his memory of last night had ended with his father interrupting the heated moment. Derek's facial expression had been branded into the teen's mind when the man broke from his haze. Horrified, guilt ridden and confused all at once, Derek had fled and left many things unsaid. Not like there had been time but Stiles had waited for Derek to return after the Sherriff departed but all that came was sleep from focusing too long on the lone window.
Stiles wanted desperately to know now how Derek felt about him. Was this just the side effect of the alpha being in control or was there actual meaningful intention behind Derek's ministrations? All the occurrences that took place between the two allowed Stiles to unwillingly hope that Derek wanted Stiles the way Stiles wanted him in return. From saving his life from the fall to checking his wellbeing, surely Derek held affection of some kind…
"I'm such a girl." He muttered out with mortified undertones. He began to realize that every time he encountered this situation every revelation and thought was a novelty to him and ripped at his pride and gut like it set out to devour him whole. Infatuation wasn't supposed to be this humiliating was it?
"I like Derek Hale." Stiles said it out loud for the first time. And there was that gut wrenching feeling again and the skipping of his brutalized heart. Would he ever get used to having these feelings for another male?
Stiles' eyes landed on his cell and a hand was already picking up on it and fingers deftly sifting through his contacts. His finger paused over the call option but resumed and pressed it. Lifting the phone to his ear, Stiles eyes looked back to his unkempt bedding.
The ringing went on for longer than what should be possible and at some point Stiles had drowned it out as he was flooded with the pleasant sensations of last night's tryst.
"Damn it, whoever this is better start talking or I give this number to the police and say it's a sex offender trying to meet up with me." Danny grumbled very groggy and raspy, the sleep evident in his voice.
Stiles had only caught half of the threat, eyes lighting with awareness and heavy confusion, "What?"
"Wait is this…STILES? The hell man. It's eight in the morning. My brain shouldn't even exist at this hour."
Rubbing his buzz cut, Stiles chuckled nervously and took another cautionary glance at his bed before he sat at the edge of it most uncomfortably as if it weren't his own.
"Sorry man, I just really need to talk to the only guy that knows I might be…gay." The word still struggled its way out.
Stiles heard a sigh that should only pass the lips of a man that carried the entire weight of the world on his shoulders before Danny spoke again, "Didn't we already settle this? Admiration right? You're his little fan boy."
Stiles looked up to the ceiling and nodded, "Right and all was great and dandy for an hour or so. But you see the problem is, he came over in the middle of the night and... things happened."
Silence. "Things." Danny reiterate d as if trying to understand.
"Things." Stiles confirmed and added emphasis to the very obscure word.
"You two played Monopoly? What things are we talking about here, you have to be specific." Stiles groaned in frustration, did he really have to say it out loud?
Going to the window, Stiles checked the driveway and found it absent of a Sherriff's vehicle and commenced with his story without the fear of being overheard. Stiles relived every detail of his and Derek's encounter and gave an edited version to Danny who he wasn't sure was conscious anymore by the end of his story. Blushing and feel uncomfortable, he explained to his gay acquaintance that it's not admiration at all, that what he feels for Derek is attraction and he wanted to find out Derek's feelings. Should he try to pursue an actual relationship or should he act like last night never happened? The teen was at a crossroads of indecision and each course of action was terrifying to consider. But Stiles could already guess what Derek would do when the two were in each other's presence again. Derek would try to push him away, distance himself if his regretful and pained face from last night was anything to go off of. He didn't want to lose Derek's companionship completely to this, but Stiles knew there was something more than the friendship that covered the surface. This was a chance to delve into that unknown and see where it led to. So Stiles now fully expected Danny to know exactly what to do.
"You…still there?" Stiles questioned the silence on the other end and wondered if he should feel stupid for talking to himself that entire time.
"He obviously is attracted to you," Danny's voice reenters the conversation and sounding as if he was a doctor diagnosing a worried patient's symptoms. "Though I can't imagine why. You look like you dreamed of being a G.I. Joe who got rejected and you're still one funny looking dude even if you had hair."
"Thanks." Stiles deadpanned.
"Anyway, I can understand your concerns. But you have to decide if whatever you choose to do is worth the consequences. If you love him," Stiles cringed at the word, "and don't tell him, you'll be repressed and stuck in the friend zone. Tell him and he feels the same—which makes since giving the fact he actually touched you—" Stiles rolled his eyes, "then its happily ever after in a way I never want to imagine."
"Yes, but you're leaving out the possibility that he doesn't feel the same way I do and it destroys our shaky friendship to the point of it being finished for good." Stiles mentioned and tried not to pay attention to how his heart clinched at the thought.
"Well there is that possibility. But all the odds are in your favor and everything will most likely work out for the best. I thought you were braver than this Stilinski." Danny was trying to goad Stiles into action but the teen still felt uncertain. He wished he could tell Danny everything about their circumstances then maybe the guy wouldn't be so adamant on the outcome. But he knew it was inadvisable. Stiles let out a loud resigning breath, one that stated he made a decision.
"I want to talk to him about last night. I want to tell him that I'm okay with what happened. More than just okay. That I l-like him."
"Good now let me sleep. Oh and Stiles? Good luck." There was a hint of a smile detected in Danny's voice before the first string lacrosse player hung up his end of the line. It made Stiles smile despite his predicament. He didn't want to dwell on the fact that there was a "but" coming up in his earlier declaration and instead felt gratitude towards Danny for listening to his problems for the second time.
"Thanks." Stiles said quietly even though Danny was long gone and back in Danny land doing whatever Dannys do in their dreams.
Stiles flung his head back onto the mattress, now feeling as if the bed was a sanctuary instead of a bed of nails and looked to the ceiling. It felt amazing to be curled up on a bed that Derek had touched him on the previous night. It felt warm.
He had to talk to Derek. Today.
That evening when Stiles drove up to the Hale residence a stone sank in his gut at the sight of two familiar vehicles stationary on the front lawn. One he recognized with a hint of resentment from watching Scott getting in on the passenger's side of it each day after school. The other, a large black SUV that sat next to Allison's car was the one that Chris Argent drove the last time Stiles had encountered the man in front of Derek's home. Why were the Argents there together? Was this father-daughter bonding time, killing the alpha werewolf? No…they wouldn't. They're honorable people and big on morality. Stiles had to remind himself that there was an enemy coming much more formidable than the just Chris Argent and his werewolf dating daughter.
After common sense washed away his paranoia, Stiles walked towards the house with a curiosity that overrode his reason for dropping by in the first place. The teen whisked through the door without bothering to knock and immediately set eyes upon all of them. None looked surprised by his sudden appearance (though Scott was holding back a fierce scowl) and immediately his eyes landed on Derek Hale. All curiosity as to why the extra company flew out the window when Derek's own eyes connected with his.
The alpha was actually fully clothed for once in a buttoned down shirt that didn't look like it had faced Armageddon and some casual jeans of matching quality. Looking down—and yes, he even put on shoes. His face was freshly shaved (by what means it was a mystery) and eyes absent of their violent red tinge. Derek looked like a shade of his old self again, but Stiles knew the man before him now a lot better than he had a few months ago. And in knowing him, Stiles grew to…like him. In a betrayal, his heart fluttered and Derek's eyebrows dipped lower in reaction.
"Stiles. Hey." Scott spoke up first, moving forward from their small gathering by the side of the stairs. Stiles ripped his eyes from Derek to land on his best friend and his train of thought refocused on the very obvious slight that was directed at him.
"How come you didn't call me?" He felt hurt really. He didn't let it show on his face or through his voice however. At first he wanted to direct the question to Derek but thought better of it and kept his eyes on his foot shuffling friend.
Even though he could tell Scott felt uneasy, the younger werewolf hardened his facial features, "Look, I meant what I said the other day in class. I don't want you to be a part of this. This isn't your life. It doesn't ever have to be."
Stiles felt as if someone had just slapped him in the face. And one quick glance at Derek told the teen right away Derek wholeheartedly agreed with Scott. A stinging in the undistinguishable back part of his nose told Stiles that he felt close to crying. There was no way he'd do that. Even if the werewolves insisted that assistance from a human like Stiles was unnecessary, that didn't mean Stiles would be okay without them. What about his needs?
"And what I said in return bears no weight in the matter? I'm as much a part of this as you are, so stop treating me like I'm this fragile figurine that'll break if you squeeze too hard and let me help you!" Stiles brushed past Scott and felt as if he had brushed up against a brick wall and faltered but kept walking in defiance until he reached the others who were met up in what looked to have been a living room at one point.
"So what did I miss?" Stiles asked obstinately, eyes flickering from Derek to Chris Argent.
The elder Argent held a glint in his eyes that gave away his amusement on what just took place but spoke nothing of it.
"You, Mr. Stilinski were fortunate enough to walk in just after the "cordial" greetings where exchanged. You have missed nothing of importance. Now, if you three are quite finished, let me explain why I'm here."
Stiles felt flustered. He was the one holding everyone up by being there. Did he really not belong? The teen pushed those depressing thoughts back as he watched Chris Argent pull out a folded paper from his jacket pocket, undid the creases made and extended it to Scott who stood stiffly beside Stiles and Allison.
Scott took the page and glanced over its content. Stiles read over his shoulder out loud.
"Cabon County Family Massacred, Children Missing. What is this?" Stiles looked up from a graphic black and white photo of blood splatters on a mundane wall with a raised eyebrow.
"That," Argent began, pointing to the article, "is them. That is their work."
Stiles read on silently with a heavy block of dread on his chest. The adults in the home, a mother, and a father were shot in the head with bullets that happened to be pure silver as described in the article. Relatives close to the family state that the couple had adopted two kids of the age of ten and those kids were now missing. There was no trace of their blood in the carnage and no evidence pointing to a suspect. The attack was so unexpected that there were no leads; the case was already turning cold even though it occurred only a week prior.
"The children—" Scott starts off and Argent finishes his speculation.
"—were inherent werewolves, yes." The older man says gravely, eyes darkened with grave thoughts.
"They…killed children?" Allison spoke up in disbelief, her eyes widening at the prospect.
"And these people, they were humans. Why kill them?" Stiles asked through the sick feeling rising in his gut. These people were monsters.
Argent sighed, "Mercy is not an option for these men. You harbor their kind, you die. You're a werewolf, you suffer. And then you die. It's a clear message of intolerance. The silver bullet in a human being's skull is that message."
Stiles imagined being one of those humans staring deep into the barrel of a hunter's gun just for helping Derek. He couldn't fight off the chill that ran its course through his spine.
Scott spoke up again, "This happened in Montana almost a week ago. They should be here by now."
Nodding, Argent went on. "This was not the only case. I have picked up on several murders and disappearances similar to the one in Montana and every one of them leads a trail back to Michigan. This isn't a coincidence. And yes, the last article I found that resembled these attacks was situated in Nevada; these hunters should be in California by now." Chris Argent sneered as the word 'hunters' left his lips, his hatred of the men was undeniable.
"What do we do now? Obviously waving a white flag and explaining there is a huge misunderstanding is out of the question." Stiles felt quite certain that there was no way to escape this confrontation without bloodshed.
Argent looked at a silent as stone and just as stoic Derek Hale before addressing the small group.
"Well, before we all arrived I had a chat with Mr. Hale here and it's been decided that if we catch wind of these hunters at all, we shall discard of them as discreetly as possible. But for now I need all of you to just keep your heads down and to not draw attention to yourselves. Now being a hunter myself, I know these men will stay as long as needed to find where werewolves reside. Keeping track of the moon cycles, I know the full moon will shine in a week. The closer it gets, the more animalistic your kind becomes. This will make it easier for a hunter to find you if they're in the vicinity." Chris looked pointedly at the youngest werewolf in attendance and Scott looked back defiantly.
"If you get the urge to howl at the moon, I strongly suggest you take up residence in that cellar until the urge dies down. Other than that, I want all underage parties to go on living a normal life." Argent looked to his daughter who looked ready to disagree but nodded, then to Scott who definitely wanted to disagree but stopped when Allison's hand grabbed his, and lastly to Stiles who couldn't affirm or disaffirm his agreement. He looked away instead. Argent still didn't understand Derek's predicament and there was no way he was sharing that with a hunter, honorable or not.
"Now that I have effectively cautioned all involved, I expect everyone to heed my advice. These extremists are no joke. They will kill you for supporting or loving a werewolf. Keep your eyes open and report to me of any strange new faces in town. I'll take my leave now." Argent nodded his departure to Hale who returned the gesture and the older man took long strides to the door.
Allison smiled small at Stiles, "Be careful, Stiles." Her hand that held Scott's slipped from their connection as she started forward and Scott's feet didn't follow. She turned to give her boyfriend a questioning look and Scott answered.
"Just give me a moment, I'll be out in a sec."
Looking from Scott to Stiles then back to Scott, Allison nodded and drifted through the front door, leaving it open. Stiles should've known that not much stays secret between the hunter's daughter and Scott. She most likely knew everything that was going on between the three of them. He didn't know if he should feel angry about it or not. He was too preoccupied to care.
The tension built to the ceiling as the three were left alone in the slowly darkening home, Stiles had a hard time looking at either of the werewolves.
Scott cleared his throat in preparation to speak, "I just uh, wanted to say to you that I'm sorry I didn't call you when I found out about this. I just want what's best for you."
Stiles tried to lighten up as a mutual peace offering, "You know, for someone who is the same age, you shouldn't be spouting mommy phrases at me."
His best friend laughed slightly; it was more than Stiles had received in a couple of days from the younger werewolf.
"I know. I just want to do all that I can to keep someone I care about alive." Stiles knew he meant every word and smiled.
"I get that." Stiles gently patted Scott's deltoid and that was enough to appease the werewolf for now. Scott nodded and made his way to cross the threshold but turned back around when he didn't hear Stiles following behind.
Stiles smiled tightly, "I'm staying behind."
There was a hint of defiance in his tone that left no room for argument. Scott looked unsure what to do. Stiles made the decision for him.
"Go bring Allison home. I have to talk to Derek…alone."
Scott looked from his best friend to Derek and Stiles looked at Derek. The silent man was as unreadable as ever.
Scott held back the urge to share his objection to this and gave one last scathing look at the alpha before closing the door behind him. It didn't take long to hear car doors slam and an engine turn on before Allison's and Scott's departure from the Hale property. But during that time Stiles' body become so stiff from nerves, he could barely recall to breathe. The two were alone now.
Derek finally graced the walls with his breathy voice, "He thinks I'll attack you as soon as his back is turned."
Stiles snorted, his body slowly thawing from its rigidity, "But I know differently…"
The teen faced the alpha who already had his vintage green eyes upon him.
"So…I guess you know that Scott knows what's going on with you. Sorry about that." Stiles knew he was responsible for Derek's secret getting out.
Derek gave a resigned sigh, the most emotion Stiles had seen from the older man that night.
"He paid me a visit as soon as he found out what we've been up to, I believe. He saw that you got injured and was justifiably livid. But he told me everything I already knew. Things that my mind has been shouting at me from the night you fell asleep in the woods: this is reckless and dangerous. I could hurt you…" Derek's frown grew heavier, "…And I have."
The shame that graced Derek's face as his eyes were cast downward made Stiles feel the warmth of his own embarrassment creeping up on his cheeks.
"When have you ever hurt me?" Stiles asked incredibly and stepped closer to the larger man. Derek stepped back.
"Last night I—"
"I recall what happened last night with a clarity that has me almost back in the moment and nobody was crying out in pain." They were already breaching the topic of last night's occurrence. Here goes nothing…or everything.
"No. The moment you set eyes on me today, I heard your heart. You're afraid of me—as you should be!" Derek growled out loudly and a swift fist punched the fire licked railing of the stairs. A small beam on the railing snapped easily from the force and the jarring sound filled the foyer. Stiles jumped but didn't hesitate in his approach on the distraught man. Grabbing Derek's steel tight fist to stop the werewolf's attempt at ruining an already broken home, Stiles yelled, "Listen to me you self-conscious idiot! My heart didn't skip because I'm scared of you, it's because I love you god dammit!"
The yell had carried through the cavity of the house, echoing shortly the irritated and slightly anxious tone of his voice. Derek directed his gaze to Stiles who was sporting a shocked look on his face. Did he really just say the "L" word? He totally meant "like" like! Something in those green eyes changed and it wasn't the color. That emotion made Stiles feel like he was back in his bedroom with Derek pinning him to the wall. Stiles dropped his hold on the older man but Derek reconnected them by pulling at Stiles' forearm; forcing the teen closer until his smaller body was flush against Derek's clothed front and feeling the taller man's respirations against his own.
"You love me?" Derek asked but studied Stiles' brown eyes for the answer. It was hard to form a functioning thought much less a reply as Derek's body heat seeped through and found his skin, turning him into a limp noodle.
His eyelids fluttered and struggled to stay open as he forced himself to look back up at the werewolf and parted his lips, "I—"
Derek interrupted with his lips firmly pressed to Stiles' lips. His eyes didn't deny the surprise he felt. Derek was kissing him. Derek's own eyes were steadily open but were relaxed and calmly gauging the teen's reaction. The werewolf angled his head and moved his lips, deepening the connection of their mouths. Stiles hand shot up to twist in the fabric of Derek's nice shirt at his rib cage and moaned; the sound was softly muted by Derek's unwavering onslaught and Stiles let his eyes fall shut. He couldn't deny how the contents of his head suddenly became as light as air or that how much he was enjoying his first kiss ever. It felt amazing. He loved how Derek held him and how he clung to Derek as the man continued to kiss him. He didn't mind that the activities from last night didn't resurface and just enjoyed Derek's harsh hot exhalations on his wet lips. Stiles didn't want it to stop but as that thought passed, Derek retracted until an inch separated their mouths. Stiles fought open his eyelids and looked from Derek's lips to the turmoil of those now ruby eyes.
"You shouldn't love me." Derek spoke in a heavy voice, one that held his arousal and dread.
Stiles couldn't recant that word and knew he really didn't want to after that kiss. The arm that resided around the small of Derek's back tightened its hold.
"But I do." He said in his own aroused voice. That time his heart didn't stutter or skip but kept lugging blood through his body at a strong fast pace.
Derek growled and his upper lip rose and showed off a fang Stiles hadn't laid eyes on in weeks. Derek had completely loosened his hold on the teen, making Stiles shiver in the cool dark space of the house. Stiles dropped his hold on Derek's now creased shirt and regarded the werewolf with a questioning look.
"What's the matter?"
Derek turned his back to the inquisitive teen, his back heaving from the strong breaths he was taking.
"I want you to leave." Derek said through ragged breaths, his hand clutched the nearest wall to support his weight and Stiles could see in the little light that was left that his claws had resurfaced as well. He didn't understand.
"No, I don't want to leave." Stiles walked the small distance Derek had put between them and laid a palm on the man's hunched over shoulder blade.
"Leave!" Derek whipped around and barked the order in Stiles' face. The human could only withstand so much and gave into a slight fear, backing up out of the living room and into the foyer. Derek kept him moving backwards until his back hit the door. There was a look of rage behind the fire in the werewolf's eyes that Stiles could not comprehend. What was driving Derek to do this?
"Why are you doing this?" Stiles asked weakly, a pain in his chest grew as that hardened look on Derek's face never lifted.
"Because you are a weight that I can't bear any longer! You're driving me insane and I want it to stop. I'm tired of your persistency, and you coming here every day, pushing my limits of control. I'm a monster that hasn't tasted human blood yet but it seems like you want me to cross that line and take your life. Is that what you want? To die? Do you want me to rip into your body and bite into your heart while it still beats? I want to kill you, do you understand?" The entire time, Stiles couldn't get a word in edgewise and every attempt grew less vehement as the meaning of Derek's words set in. This was Derek's response to his love? It was as he feared wasn't it? That everything would be thrown out of balance by his confession and he'd go back to being completely alone.
Derek laughed harshly and Stiles had to look away from the dark site of a man who was more animal than human, "Priceless. You love me. You love a monster. You love me when I'd love to see your entrails. How comical is that?"
Stiles winced and swallowed thickly, "Then what's stopping you from killing me?"
Derek used his claw to anchor up Stiles' chin until the teen had no choice but to look into those cold eyes that resembled the eyes of Peter Hale.
"Because I like it here. Killing you isn't worth being displaced." Derek explained evenly. Stiles felt like throwing up. Stiles gasped as a hand roughly grasped the neckline of his shirt and pulled him off the door. The door was ripped open and Stiles registered the sound of the metal hinges falling to the floor from the unnatural force exerted on it. The teen was flung out onto the veranda, his feet not catching him as he tumbled down the stairs and onto the brown dirt of the front yard.
Stiles looked blearily up at the werewolf who looked down on him with the eyes of someone who didn't recognize the scum below him.
"Never come back here or I'll just have to make an exception and bleed you dry. I'll just have to kill every hunter that comes for me as well. It's not like they can stop me." Derek walked back inside and shut the door by its remaining hinges, the glass panels that Stiles remembered replacing in the door's face shattering on impact and raining down. Stiles immediately heard Derek's yell that turned into growls behind that door. He couldn't see him anymore but heard next his dreadful roar. The teen's heart sunk as the inner contents of the house were thrown and ripped apart. It sounded as if a tornado was birthed inside those walls. An object Stiles didn't bother identifying came flying out of a newly replaced window pane and onto the lawn and that got the teen to his feet; his legs automatically carrying him to his jeep as Stiles heaved the air in and out of his lungs.
He was truly and purely frightened.
Shakily, he finally got his key to fit into the ignition after a few failed attempts and started the vehicle. Dirt and rocks kicked up wildly from the spinning tires as the gas pedal was pressed firmly to the floor, and Stiles peeled out of the grove, a full out howl followed his departure.
There was a statement replaying through his mind that echoed like a bad memory which crossed the ages as his powerful legs carried him farther into the untamed woods. He was recklessly dashing through the trees with no inhibitions clouding his already haunted brain. He hit a maturely aged pine with his left flank and the tree stood no chance, breaking sharply at the base and came raining down. A thunderous sound filled the chilled night air as the branches and trunk connected with the forest floor, and erupted the surrounding ground into small quakes from the impact before everything went still once more. He continued to fly through the vastness of this forest, heart racing under his pelt and breathing uneven from the exertion. He hit more trees and all bowed to his barbarism; he dodged their avenging limbs as they came down around him and knew he was close. So close. He didn't slow down until the very lip of the chasm came into site. He leaped down into the deep dark abyss willingly and gracefully hit the new level of the forest floor.
His red eyes took in the ground below him as he remembered that day with a forlornness taking up residence in his chest. He had been made aware of his love for another being that day. How long has it been since he could think of someone fondly and held them dear?
Chris Argent's words replayed again from the conversation that took place before McCall and the youngest Argent arrived.
"It's fortunate in a way that you are alone, Hale. They cannot hurt any more innocent people."
Derek howled to the canopy above.
An: Wow. So I believe this is my biggest chapter yet. Again, I prostrate myself in your presence for the late late late! chapter and hope you enjoyed it. I get so giddy thinking of Derek's and Stiles' first kiss. EEEEE! Sorry for the myriad of mistakes riddled in this chapter. Review and stick around for chapter 10!


text:
The Best Teacher Gift Ideas?
School hours constitute only a small portion of the time that teachers put into the development of what happens within the classroom. Teachers work hard in and outside the classroom, and some paren...
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Gift Ideas for a Yoga Teacher?
Yoga is a way of life that incorporates mind, body and soul, so remembering these philosophies when selecting something for a yoga instructor will surely translate into a perfect gift. You want som...
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Math Teacher Gift Ideas?
Celebrate teachers everywhere by acknowledging their individual contributions when and how you can. Whether there's a birthday, holiday or end-of-the-year party coming up and your student wants to ...
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Gift Ideas for a History Teacher?
History teachers are probably the easiest teachers to buy for. Discover what time period he is passionate about by looking around his classroom. The gift you buy does not have to be expensive. In f...
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Creative Teacher Gift Ideas?
Finding a suitable gift to thank your teacher for a year's worth of dedication can be a challenge. However, you want to show your gratitude for her commitment to your or your child's education. Avo...
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subset: commoncrawl


text:
Ludisia discolor?
On Sunday, February 27, 2005, at 10:22 AM, james singer wrote:
I've got but a vague memory, and it doesn't seem to be budging. I
think I only grow three--Phaius, Spathoglotis, and whatever the jewel
orchid is, so it must not be one that I now have.
To sign-off this list, send email to email@example.com with the
message text UNSUBSCRIBE GARDENCHAT


text:
Child and Adolescent Behavioural Problems: A Multi-Disciplinary Approach to Assessment and Intervention
€ 54,49
Lieferbar innert 2 Wochen
April 2000
BeschreibungOutlining the challenges of working in a multi-disciplinary context, this book provides key theoretical cocepts and describes how to conduct joint assessments and design, deliver and evaluate interventions. Taking a life-span approach to working with children of all ages from infant to adolescents, the key emphasis of the book is on the prevention of children's emotional and behavioural difficulties through effective interdisciplinary working.
InhaltsverzeichnisList of tables and figures. Acknowledgements. Introduction. Part I: The Challenges of Helping Children in a Multidisciplinary Context. Chapter 1: Children's emotional and behavioural difficulities: nature, prevalence and origins. Chapter 2: Multidisciplinary practice: the context and challenges of working together. Part II: Theory and Practice. Chapter 3: Key theoretical concepts. Chapter 4: Engaging with families: issues relevant to all disciplines. Part III: ASPIRE: A Process for Intervention. Chapter 5: Assessment of children's emotional and behavioural difficulities: a multidisciplinary approach. Chapter 6: Issues of planning, implementation, review and evaluation. Part IV: Multidisciplinary Approaches to Preventing Children's Difficulties. Chapter 7: Infants and their families: multidisciplinary approaches. Chapter 8: Toddlers and pre-school children: multidisciplinary approaches. Chapter 9: Children at their first schools: multidisciplinary approaches. Chapter 10: Children at their secondary schools: multidisciplinary approaches. Chapter 11: Young offenders: multidisciplinary approaches. Chapter 12: Summary of key ideas and ways forward. Appendices. References. Index.
Pressestimmen"If doctors understood even a fraction of this book, they would be better able to communicate with their colleagues in psychology ans social work!"--Peter Campion, Family Practice, Vol 19, 2002
Untertitel: Sprache: Englisch.
Verlag: BLACKWELL PUBL
Erscheinungsdatum: April 2000
Seitenanzahl: 340 Seiten
Format: kartoniert


text:
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text:
Just a Friend
You confuse me.
One day,
You'll be my best friend.
You'll talk to me.
You'll smile and chat.
And then the next,
You'll ignore me.
You'll walk by like I wasn't saying "Hello"
You don't even look my direction.
Okay, I know,
I did some crap wrong.
I was mean.
I was cold.
But did I not appologize?
And did I not ask for forgiveness?
That's all I want...
you by my side.
I don't care about what I used to.
All I want now
Is to be your friend.
I won't ask for anything more.
I won't take anything less.
Is that so much to ask?
Do you even realize
How much it hurts me
To just want to get a smile,
even a hello,
from you,
And only get the cold shoulder?
Do you have any idea
How it feels to walk past you
and remember how it was like
When we were friends,
and know that that's not real anymore?
It's like being pierced with a poisoned arrow.
I can't pull it out.
I can't ease the pain.
Just be my friend!
Is it so much to ask?


text: Granville Sewell, "Computational Methods of Linear Algebra, 3rd edition" English | ISBN: 9814603856, 9814603864 | 2014 | 328 pages | PDF | 3 MB This book presents methods for the computational solution of some important problems of linear algebra: linear systems, linear least squares problems, eigenvalue problems, and linear programming problems. The book also includes a chapter on the fast Fourier transform and a very practical introduction to the solution of linear algebra problems on modern supercomputers.The book contains the relevant theory for most of the methods employed. It also emphasizes the practical aspects involved in implementing the methods. Students using this book will actually see and write programs for solving linear algebraic problems. Highly readable FORTRAN and MATLAB codes are presented which solve all of the main problems studied. Buy Premium From My Links To Get Resumable Support,Max Speed & Support Me Code: Download ( NitroFlare ) http://nitroflare.com/view/B199CDCB1A4E75B/w6so6.C.M.o.L.A.3rd.e.rar Oboom https://www.xxxxxxxx/LK55A0T3/w6so6.C.M.o.L.A.3rd.e.rar


text: MONTREAL, Nov. 13, 2013 /PRNewswire/ - Hybrid Paytech World Inc, (the "Company" or "Hybrid"), (CNSX: HPT) announced that it will be holding its Annual General Meeting ("AGM") on December 16 th 2013 and will take place in the Panoramic Hall situated at 2, rue de la Commune West, at the Montreal Science Centre in the Old Port of Montreal at 9:30 AM. About Hybrid Paytech World Inc. (formerly Freeport Capital Inc.) The Company develops an Enterprise Ready Mobile Payment Platform for the leading OS's (IOS, Android, BB and Windows 7). The Company's holding, First Equity Strategy LLC, markets itself with the DBA: HybridPaytech. Visit www.hybridpaytech.com and click on our corporate video presentation http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XvZHrck2eag&feature=youtu.be HybridPaytech based in Montreal, Canada, is a technology leader in the mobile payment space for credit and debit acceptance. With a global footprint, Hybrid is an enabler of easily-deployable payment systems focusing on authentication, approved security and quick merchant adoption in Fleet, Delivery, Logistics and Retail. With its current banking and fund-transferring partnerships, HybridPaytech has market access to over three million merchants worldwide. For more information on HybridPaytech, please visit www.hybridpaytech.com / www.hybridpos.com Certain statements in this document, including those which express management's expectations or estimations with regard to the Company's future performance, constitute "forward-looking statements" as understood by applicable securities laws. Forward-looking statements are, of necessity, based on a certain number of estimates and hypotheses; while management considers these to be accurate at the time they are expressed, they are inherently subject to significant uncertainties and risks on the commercial, economic and competitive levels. We advise readers that these forward-looking statements are subject to risks, uncertainties, and other known and unknown factors that may cause the actual results, performance or achievements of the Company to be materially different from any future results, performance or achievements expressed or implied in these forward-looking statements. Investors are advised to not rely unduly on the forward-looking statements. This advisory applies to all forward-looking statements, whether expressed orally or in writing, attributed to the Company or to any individual expressing them in the name of the Company. Unless required by law, the Company is under no obligation to publicly update these forward-looking statements, whether to reflect new information, future events, or other circumstances


text:
Tory Burch 'Hamana' Scarf
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text:
How to Grow a Friend
€ 9,99
Bisher € 10,49
epub eBook
Sofort lieferbar (Download)
Januar 2015
BeschreibungA lovely metaphor teaches valuable lessons in how to treat others and make friendships blossom! Making a friend takes patience, care, and room to bloom-just like growing a flower. Soon your little gardeners will have their very own green thumbs for this most important of life skills.
PortraitSARA GILLINGHAM is an award-winning art director and designer. In addition to developing her own books and gifts, Sara's studio provides art direction and design services for the children's publishing and gift industries. Sara has worked with some of the most distinguished illustrators in the field and has designed and art-directed hundreds of books and gift products, many for Chronicle Books in San Francisco, where she was the design director for children's publishing until 2007. Sara also teaches at UC Berkeley Extension and California College of the Arts in San Francisco.
Untertitel: FULL COLOR. Sprache: Englisch.
Verlag: Random House Children's Books
Erscheinungsdatum: Januar 2015
Seitenanzahl: 32 Seiten
Format: epub eBook
Kopierschutz: Adobe DRM


text:
You missed it This great deal for Cell Remedy is over. But don't despair, we've got more great deals every day.
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text:
Can rhinoplasty fix my uneven nostrils and make my nose smaller?
I've been doing rhinoplasty research for years but never could find an answer to this question. Typically when a person gets a nose job it's focused towards one thing (bridge, nostrils, reducing the size, etc.) but my nose has uneven nostrils and is large/pointy. Would I be able to get a nose job to fix all of those things?
Doctor Answers 5
Photos for advices
Thanks for the question. I recommend you to send your photos to give you the advices you want and need.Kind regards,Dr. Emmanuel Mallol.-
If the nostrils are asymmetric, sometimes alarplasty can better balance them. A nose can also be made smaller with rhinoplasty.
Web reference: https://www.stevenwallachmd.com/face-procedures/rhinoplasty/
Can rhinoplasty fix my uneven nostrils and make my nose smaller?
Without posted photos and the benefit of physical exam- it's difficult to comment accurately. Generally speaking, Rhinoplasty in the right hands should address your concerns. But in person exam is essential.
You might also like...
Hello and thank you for your question. Rhinoplasty can alter the nostril shape and make your nose less projected if the appropriate techniques are performed. Make sure you specifically look at before and after pictures of real patients who have had this surgery performed by your surgeon and not just a computer animation system. The most important aspect is to find a surgeon you are comfortable with. I recommend that you seek consultation with a qualified board-certified plastic surgeon who can evaluate you in person.
Best wishes and good luck.
Richard G. Reish, M.D.
Harvard-trained plastic surgeon
Best wishes and good luck.
Richard G. Reish, M.D.
Harvard-trained plastic surgeon
Uneven Nostrils
Pictures sure would help answer your question. The general answer would be yes, there are ways to address uneven nostrils, which can occur for a variety of reasons. A pointy tip can be as problematic as a very wide tip, and can also be changed for aesthetic purposes. It is always best to have a personal consultation so we can really see what your specific findings are and make an informed recommendation.
These answers are for educational purposes and should not be relied upon as a substitute for medical advice you may receive from your physician. If you have a medical emergency, please call 911. These answers do not constitute or initiate a patient/doctor relationship.


text:
Mothers' Demise
I am running through white halls. My footsteps echo. I can hear my heart pounding. I am terrified. Breathless I reach a door. I knock. Eternity seems to pass before it opens.
"Sedation" I blurt out. The man stares at me. "She has to be sedated."
"W h y ?" His question takes eons to say.
"Mother says so."
"H e r p a r e n t s h a v e f o r b a d e i t ." I feel as though he is talking through molasses.
"She and the babe will die if she's not sedated!"
"W e c a n n o t g o a g a i n t t h e w i s h e s o f h e r p a r e n t s."
"But," screams break through my reply. I turn and begin to run back. He follows me, but in doing so he has slowed me down. I feel like a video game character whose partner isn't going in the right direction. I keep running, but I can only go so fast and so far ahead of him. The hall echoes with our footsteps, besides that all is silent.
I can see the door now. Blood oozes from the top, sliding down the small window. My own pace slows. I am behind him now, trying to keep him from reaching the door. My face is wet with tears. I know what's there. I don't want to see it again.
"No," I whisper.
His hand is on the door knob. I am there beside him now, despite my effort not to be. He turns the handle slowly. The door opens.
"MOTHER!" I scream and sit bolt upright. I am bawling. I am cold. I am sweating. My eyes stay closed. I know I'm on a bus. Behind me sits Gloria. Beside me sits my real father. I feel their concern and their comfort. All I can do is try to calm myself. I haven't had that nightmare in two years.


text:
I woke up with red dots all over my skin 1-week after rhinoplasty. What could cause this?
I had rhinoplasty a week ago. I woke up this morning feeling very hot with hundreds of small red dots on my arms, chest, and abdomen, along with some on my legs and face. My skin feels hot but there is no itchiness. There are no red streaks. I am very scared as I have no idea what this is, and I may not be able to contact my doctor until after the weekend. Please tell me what this could be.
Doctor Answers 1
These answers are for educational purposes and should not be relied upon as a substitute for medical advice you may receive from your physician. If you have a medical emergency, please call 911. These answers do not constitute or initiate a patient/doctor relationship.


text:
Let us know when your receive great advice so we can thank our lawyers and point others with similar questions in the right direction.Got it!
I settled with a credit card law firm and they are going to enter into a stipulation for entry of judgment. I received it and the first paragraph says that it is stipulated that they will get judgment against me for $X.XX. Then the next paragraph says, it is "stayed" provided I pay what I owe.
So, I guess my question is, does the 2nd paragraph (stay provided I pay) prevent the 1st paragraph (judgment) from going into effect if I make the payments?
Also, does it go on my credit report?
Yes and yes.
This is odten difficult to answer without having seen the actual stipulation that you signed. In Calfornia, there is often confusion between a stipulation for entry of judgment and a stipulated judgment. A stipulated judgment, for sure, is a judgment and gets filed with the court. It has the same force and effect as if you lost at trial or lost on a summany judgment motion, so the likelihood of it appearing on your credit report is very high.
On the other hand, a stipulation for entry of judgment can be used in a variety of ways. In some instances, the plaintiff agrees not to file the document at all with the court unless there is a default in the installment payments. In other instances, the stipulation for entry of judgment is filed with the court, but a judgment is not entered right away unless there is a default. In yet other instances, a stipulation for entry of judgment automatically results in entry of a judgment.
Since you mention a "stay" in the second paragraph, I suspect your situation is that a judgment has in fact been entered against you pursuant to the stipulation. That means YES it will likely appear on your credit report. However, the judgment creditor is just agreeing not to enforce the judgment by garnishing wages, levying on bank accounts, liening your real and property property, taking your judgment debtor exam, etc. if you make the installment payments.
The information presented here is general in nature and is not intended, nor should be construed, as legal advice. This posting does not create any attorney-client relationship with the author (who is only admitted to practice law in the State of California). For specific advice about your particular situation, consult your own attorney.Ask a similar question
Nope - a stipulated judgment is just like any other judgment, except that any chance to reverse the judgment is even more limited. The judgment will be entered by the judge & the enforcement of the judgment (by wage garnishment, attachment of bank accounts, etc) will be delayed as long as you make the agreed payments.
Hope this perspective helps!Ask a similar question
You have agreed to have a judgment entered against you. The creditor will stay enforcement of the judgment against you through the court system if you maintain your payment plan with them.
A judgment will appear on your credit report.
BWAsk a similar question
you need to be careful. A stipulation for entry of judgment calls for entry of judgment immediately typically with a right sometimes to have it set aside upon making all the payments.
A stipulation for entry of judgment upon default in payments only occurs when a default occurs from a missed payment. Your agreement sounds like it is actually a stip for entry of judgment upon default from a missed payment.Ask a similar question
Post a free question on our public forum.Ask a Question
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text:
When I was young, one work above all others convinced me that music was the language in which I could and must express myself. The testosterone-driven rhythms of Stravinsky's The Rite Of Spring are so searingly primal, so atavistic, that I imagined that an orchestra encountering this music for the first time might simply implode.
Of course, The Rite Of Spring did indeed change the way composers wrote for the orchestra from then on, and it was the quest for this elemental importance that lay behind the choice of music featured in the new BBC2 series of Masterworks. When the executive producer, Peter Maniura, and one of the directors, Andy King-Dabbs, first came to see me to discuss the series, we only really argued over one piece. Clearly the Rite was a given and we had no trouble in deciding that, to open the series, we must have a work by Claude Debussy, since his orchestration in a score such as La Mer, his sheer sensuous control of orchestral colour, had also radically advanced the sound of the orchestra from the very start of the century.
Similarly, it would be impossible to ignore the influence of the second Viennese school, and Alban Berg's violin concerto touchingly combines the brave new worlds of Schoenberg, Freud and expressionism with the music of the past, in particular a glorious Bach chorale. For the final work, Peter felt passionately that Shostakovich represented an important strand of tonal music that made a good counterpoint to what was going on in Europe. I argued that if instead we included Bartok (perhaps the sexually charged Miraculous Mandarin), who leads naturally on to a composer like Ligeti, then we would have the unifying theme of four composers who changed the face of the orchestra for ever.
Furthermore, but quite fortuitously, there would be an erotic undercurrent in each work: La Mer was written as Debussy moved out from his first wife and in with his second-to-be, and in his hypnotic evocation of the ocean there is an overt sense of ebb and flow, swell and climax. If The Rite Of Spring is famously about the cracking of the ice in the Russian spring, it is also about the exhilaration of ritual - the abduction and sacrifice of the Chosen One, a young virgin. The Berg violin concerto is not simply a tribute to an angel who died young - Manon Gropius, the daughter of Alma Mahler - but also a coded description of Berg's extramarital love life.
But, as Peter pointed out, we are also entering a secret, codified world in Shostakovich's fifth symphony, for this is the work he wrote after the savage attack on his opera Lady Macbeth of Mtsenk. It had actually opened to rapturous acclaim until Stalin made his visit and left after the first act, which led to a mauling in Pravda the next day. If the symphony is, compared to the other works in the series, much more a continuation and consolidation of 19th-century symphonic writing, rather than a work of innovative orchestration, it is never the less deeply disturbing in its agonised and strenuous efforts to confound Stalin's censorship.
There was also the trump card that we would be able to secure the services of the great Russian conductor, Valeri Gergiev, to work with the BBC SO for the first time. But what would be the format that really made this a telling exploration of "music on television"? For the opening programme, for example, we decided to combine documentary material filmed in France and Eastbourne (where Debussy, rather surprisingly, completed the score and checked the proofs, writing that "the sea is so British, so well behaved") with rehearsal footage of the BBC Philharmonic orchestra under an ideal conductor for this music, Yan Pascal Tortelier.
It is, then, a voyage of discovery, with experts such as Roger Nichols filling out the picture and the players themselves describing what it feels like to be rocked about in Debussy's seascape. The composer wanted and, perhaps for the first time, gets 16 cellos, which sound magnificent when divided into four separate lines. Indeed, pages of this score actually look like the sea, with waves of notes building then tumbling over each other.
Back in London, the choreographer, Richard Alston, began to demonstrate what it is like to try to stage the elusive (from a dance point of view) Rite. Meanwhile, I flew across the Gulf of Finland to the Venice of the north, St Petersburg, to shoot material for the Shostakovich and record links for The Rite of Spring.
We could so easily have made three programmes in St Petersburg, and this is where television comes into its own in its ability to marry music with images. The storeroom of the Russian Museum was specially opened for us and dozens of staggering paintings taken from endless shelves where they are peppered, every five canvases or so, with sober and worthy portraits of Stalin and Lenin. There were glorious and barely known Kandinskys, Popovas and a whole wall of the great Malevich - pictures that are the perfect visual counterpart to the Rite and the subsequent state response to this foment of modernism, as Shostakovich was so unpleasantly to discover.
Clearly, the choice of performers was an essential part of these programmes, and for the Berg we had a mind-blowing performance by the young Greek violinist Leonidas Kavakos. His unerring intonation and musicianship, his feel for the music, made me want to drop everything and begin a violin concerto on the spot.
For the documentary aspect of the Berg, I travelled to Vienna and the pretty Carinthian mountains where, near the very lake upon which Brahms and Mahler had composed, Berg worked on the concerto. We were not allowed inside, as the Berg estate follows to the letter his widow's wishes that, if any mention is made of the "other woman", access will not be granted. We could not, in all honesty, make this film without mentioning Berg's mistress, so we stayed outside.
Getting to the heart of this extraordinary and moving work (Berg's own requiem, as it turned out) was the most challenging and rewarding experience and we recut the film endlessly to be sure of explaining and decoding this complex, number-obsessed score, in a manner that would be revealing without being mind-boggling.
· The first programme in Michael Berkeley's four-part series Masterworks is broadcast today on BBC2 at 6.45pm.


text:
In a message dated 12/28/2000 4:54:49 AM Central Standard Time,
firstname.lastname@example.com writes:
<< The weather here has been warm, >>
Are the waves of cold/snow (cool/rain in your case!) missing your area
completely? At times, the maps seem to indicate cloud cover in the entire
lower US.
We are having unusually prolonged cold with the 5th or 6th snow due in the
next 24. My yard has had continuous snow cover for quite some time.
Fortunately, the snows have been an inch or less each time.
Let the germination continue!
Betty / Bowling Green KY USA Zone 6
Only those who dare to dream can make a dream come true.
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text:
Stay in prison and wait for the right moment to escape with the girl.
I leapt lithely into the air, and aided with a single beat of my wings, I landed on the window's edge. My head fit neatly through the gap between the bars, and after slipping one wing through first, I eased the rest of my body out afterwards. As I was still very young, my bones were still soft, making progress easier on my way to freedom. Then I hesitated and slowly looked back down into the prison. The girl was gazing up at me and I felt a pang of guilt.
In the shot space of time I had come into this world, I knew what it was like to be trapped. True it was thanks to creatures like her I had been put in that mess, but who was I to judge a species I didn't know? Who was I to talk? She was just as mysterious and frightening to me as I must be to the entire human race.
She gasped as I squeezed my way back through the window, dropped to the floor, and trotted up to her. To make my resolve perfectly plain, I sat down, with purpose, on the floor before her.
We're together on this.
"Wow, thanks little guy." the girl murmured.
We waited until a guard came to check on our present status, before bowling him over and with our combined weight and strength and running, flat out, for the exit.
Of course, nature never allows things to be as simple as that, it always has to throw in a surprise. Our surprise came in the form of the alarm being triggered as we burst out the door, alerting prison guards that an escape attempt was being made.
I skidded to a halt, and turned back. Ahead, the girl whipped round, gesturing madly as me to follow - "WHAT ARE YOU DOING! LETS GO! LETS GO!!"
A burning resolve was in my heart that we both get out of here unharmed and alive, and now, that wasn't the only thing that was burning. An ancient instinct in me smoldered deep in the pit of my stomach, like a sleeping volcano waking up to start erupting again. And erupt I did, with orange and yellow flame that spewed from my jaws and nostrils, scorching the prison door.
On the other side of it, the guards jumped back in shock and terror. There was no coming through there for them in a hurry.
The girl cheered me on, for I'd bought us more time, but we had to go now. I closed up my throat and nostrils, stopping up any access to oxygen so that my fires dies out. Then we were running again and soon disappeared from sight.
Soon we were both hiding in a grotty alleyway, thinking the same thing. What now?
"Ok, so listen." the girl told me, "I know you can understand me but we need some way to communicate. Firstly, you need a name."
I huffed impatiently through my nostrils, this was no time for talking. We weren't safe yet. The girl was suggesting names to me but I wasn't paying attention, my eye was on a scruffy-looking stray dog that was dozing in the alleyway, seperated by us by a metal fence. My spirits fell.
I'm going to end up like that, I thought, and I just had to tell Carla.
I concentrated hard, focussing all my energies on a point buried deep in my brain. It was difficult to access, but after some mental 'tweaking' I got it. It was the gift of tongues.
"Ca ... Car - Carla." I stuttered, my growl clearing in my throat until I spoke in English human dialect. Carla blinked and goggled at me, unable to move.
"You can talk?" she faltered. "Why didn't you speak before?"
"I can't talk long, and there are too many questions about me that I have to find answers to. Thankyou for rescuing me, and for being my friend, but I don't want to cause you any more trouble. Goodbye."
I made to leave but she stepped in front of me, barring my way with hands on hips.
"And just where do you plan on starting?" she asked, sternly.
"There was another cage back inside that facility. It might have been for another dragon, an older one, if not intended for me as I grew bigger." I added, bitterly. "I must look into this."
Carla looked dumbfounded.
"You want to go back inside the science lab after I went to all that trouble to get you out? No way, dragon!"
"I have to know how I got here and what my place is in this world."
Carla drew in a breath like she was about to say something, then she fell silent and fiddle with her fingers, looking deeply uncomfortable.
"What's wrong?" I asked, then I suddenly grew suspicious. "Do you know something about me?"
"Don't you know what a science lab's for?" she asked, quietly.
Then the silence was shattered as there came a loud barking and snarling beside us. We jumped out of our skin and skittered away. The dog had woken up; it looked terrified at the sight of me for it didn't know what I was. Its hackles bristled, its tail was low, and its message was only too plain:
Get the hell away from me, you monster!
I bolted.
I didn't even look round, instead running at fill speed across the road, causing complete panic and chaos as gliding metal beasts ("Cars" my telepathic mind told me) screeched diagonally away from me. I heard terrific bangs and crashes as the cars collided with each other behind me, and saw that there were dozens more ahead.
This wouldn't do at all.
I raised my wings from my body, bunched my muscles together and launched myself into the air, wings billowing as they caught the air-currents and beating rhythically as they soared me up above the buildings.
My head and eyes darted this way and that as my inner compass, aided by my telepathy, sought out my destination. The crowds of human minds below were a jabber of alien conversation, many of them talking about strange machines I didn't understand. I phased them out and focussed - Surely one of them knew where the -
"-lab. That animal is classified information, forget the govenment, we don't even want the Prime Minister knowing about this one."
I jerked my neck round and spotted a single stranger far below, speaking into a "public phone". I flashed down from the heavens and landed closeby, careful to stay hidden behind a large, white building. I peered round the corner, and watched as the man entered the white building.
Keeping my body low to the ground, and eyes open for any more panicking people (and dogs), I followed.
Upon sight of the building, and its giant logo boasting 'LOGIC' to the world, I froze.
I had found the science lab after all and immediately set about drinking up theactivity that went on in there.
An onslaught of grizzly information filled my senses: The piercing of surgical needles, the cries of frightened animals, the mingling and manipulation of DNA, and heartbeats of tiny unborns, and DRAGONS.
I tensed and grit my fangs as I homed in on the Dragons.
Blind, wriggling ones slick with mucus from their eggs. But they were not my family. They were not anyone's family. Wait a minute ... They came from no one, they were ...
I snapped out of it and went perfectly still. Shocked and heart-broken. Vaguely I heard the sound of running feet accompanied by a familiar breath and smell behind me. Carla had caught up.
"Don't you ever do that again!" she gasped, breathless and bent-double. I was quiet for a long time, in which litter sporting the 'LOGIC' logo fluttered round me. This place was a mess and so was I.
When Carla's breathing came back to normal, she cautiously approached me.
"We're experiments." I said, very quietly. "We weren't born, we were made. Remade. Our DNA samples were left behind centuries ago and now these scientists have started our race again."
"But that's a good thing, isn't it?" Carla asked, timidly. "You've found more of your kind. You're not alone."
I gave her a look that made her back away.
"We're all alone." I told her, darkly. "We're born alone, we die alone. But us Dragons are far more alone than you. Our time is not now, it ended a long time ago, and you had no right to bring us back so you could play with us like pets."
I was advancing on her now, scattering litter in my wake.
"Stop it!" she told me, angrily. "Your fight isn't with me, it's with them!"
"You? Them?" I fumed, jetting steam from my nostrils in time to the words. "You are them, you're a human being!"
"STOP IT! Pull yourself together! You're not racist, and you're more, so much more than just an animal. You're smarter than I could have ever imagined, and you know that I'm on your side."
I had stopped advancing but was still deeply untrusting.
"How do I know?" I barked, eyes narrowed into slits. "Just who are you, Carla? How do I know you aren't another scientist?"
"Look," She was waving her hands in desperation, "We will have this argument but we can't have it here, someone is sure to see us."
"I'll take that as a 'yes'."
I began whipping my tail around, catching up the surrounding litter, particularly the tin cans, and whacking them in her direction.
She shouted and dodged them, hands in front of her face.
"Enough! Alright, I get it, you're angry! But this isn't helping!" Carla shouted, and I relented, snarling and taking out my rage on a 'LOGIC' tin-can which I crushed in my jaws and threw aside. I yelped as one of the edges cut my lip and I wiped it with the back of my fore-foot.
Carla watched me, apologetically, and waited for another outburst. But quite abruptly, my head drooped, sadly, quite a different dragon from a moment ago.
"I can't stay here." I murmured.
"What do you think I've been trying to tell you the past ten minutes?" Carla cried, "We've got to get away from here."
"No, I don't mean the lab. I mean ... everywhere. This time. This world. Now."
"What are you saying?" Carla asked, turning white. "You sound like you want to die."
I hesitated, neither denying nor confirming her statement. When she started to look more scared I decided to soothe her.
"No, I don't want to die. I want to belong."
She still looked white in the face.
"Carla, it's ok-"
"No, it's not you - It's them ... RUN!"
A metal ring snatched round my neck and tightened like a choke-chain. I gagged as I was pulled round, and spotted my captives:
The scientists had discovered us, one of whom held the metal pole with the ring on the end round my neck (Usually used for catching stray dogs, I read, incredulous at the irony). Only then did I notice the security cameras on the sides of the buildings.
Carla was right, I was a dumb animal!
"Carla, it is one thing to abandon your life's work." The Head Scientist growled, "It is quite another to be so insulting to bring it right back when you feel like it again. This business will not tolerate your behaviour."
Life's work?
I snapped my head round and stared at Carla speechless.
"And I know it all now to be the biggest mistake of my life!" Carla was screaming. "I always presumed these were going to be simple, cold-blooded lizards, but circumstances have changed, Godfrey! They're infintely full of wonders beyond anything we've seen or understood in science - They defy its very laws!"
I could still only stare at her. She had been the one who invisioned all this! But listening to her now ...
One might have expected me to rage and scorch them all where they stood, putting myself in a one-being war against all humanity, but I couldn't.
I looked deep into the eyes of the people around me, and I searched the crazy modern mind of the planet with its blinking machines, multi-coloured medicines, melting ice-caps, and chemical-laden seas.
It was no place for me ... and I had made my choice.
Carla did her best to reason with her colleague as the dragon did anything but fight its restraint as the scienists closed in on it, holding cages and wearing fire-proof suits.
"Please, Godfrey. If you just let me communicate with it and watch!"
Godfrey raised a sceptical eyebrow. The nerve of him after what was before his very eyes!
Then, she felt a strange energy force building behind her and whirled round. She couldn't believe her eyes.
The dragon was glowing, and drawing in something around itself, causing a weird distortion in the air round its body.
The ring round its neck burst away, the pole melting along the end, which the scientist dropped.
All the humans backed off, afraid, but only one of them was wonderstruck, fascinated for what was going to happen next.
"Yes!" Carla whispered, "Escape! Be free! Make yourself so no one here can hurt you!"
They were forced to cover their eyes as the dragon blazed a blinding, white light, and when they looked back ...
He had completely vanished.
There was a moment of silence and total confusion as they all blinked stupidly at the spot it had stood. Then-
"SEARCH THE PLACE!" Godfrey bawled.
Carla didn't move an inch, she only watched with a slight smile as the scientists panicked and ran hither-and-dither. Of course, she too was curious where the dragon had gone.
And all the others as it turned out: The other creatures in the lab, the baby dragons, the mermaids, the unicorns, and all the other medieval creatures they had reincarnated had vanished too.
Carla strongly suspected he had taken them with him. As a brilliant scientist, she could only suspect they had travelled through time, likely back to the dragon's rightful century. Her evidence to back up this theory was that dragon and all had not teleported, as further search for them via helecopters and rador proved unsuccessful.
It was a sad ending to an extraordinary and ground-breaking discovery, but a bitter-sweet ending to a wonderful adventure.


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Funny kitchen nightamres
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