Disclaimer: FX: The Series does not belong to me, and I'm in no way profiting financially from this story. The screenplay for Red Storm was written by Mary Crawford and Alan Templeton, and the episode was directed by J. Miles Dale. I have adapted the story to written form hopefully remaining true to both the writer and director’s original creative intentions. It is written purely for my own entertainment and for the entertainment of others. FX is a Fireworks Entertainment Inc. and Winterset Productions Inc. production also produced in association with Rysher Entertainment and Hallmark Entertainment. The show is also based on the movie FX, an Orion Picture Corporation movie.

CHAPTER 1

New York – a beautiful city when lit at night, the city lights shining like stars in a heaven on earth. But what darkness was this splendour masking?

The movie was wrapping, the director was finally happy, the cast were happy and the crew was happy. Everyone was in party mode, and up on the stage Sean was handing out awards for displays of excellence during the filming, “Do we have a hit movie on our hands or what? Ladies and Gents - hair and makeup...”

The crowd cheered and applauded enthusiastically. Down the back the special effects team of Rollie Tyler and Angie Ramirez were sitting up at the bar with the caterer Kenny Trio, they were smiling and happy, getting in on the applause with the rest of the crowd. Sean handed the hairdresser the gold “plated” hair drier as the applause continued. He went on to the next prize, “Ok, last but not least - Rollie and Angie. They saved our lives on the day of the big back up.”

The pair of effects experts were surprised at the award. Rollie indicated that Angie should lead the way and the two of them headed through the crowd, pushed on by the applause. The director handed the gold “plated” toilet plunger to the blonde and she lined up in front of the microphone, her silvery top shimmering in the changing light, “Thank you, thank you very much.”

Angie handed the award over to her boss and stepped back allowing him access to the microphone. He looked handsome in his navy shirt and black waistcoat. He fingered their prize for a moment before beginning to speak, and looked serious. “Thank you, thank you Sean. I guess most of you know that... that Zhang Chow is still rotting in some Chinese prison. He’ll never get to see Red Storm but he knows that the truth’s out there. Even though our government doesn’t want to tell the truth, they’re still too busy cow-towing to the Chinese trade mission. Red Storm has a message, and I want to you to know that it is my intention to deliver it personally to Comrade Sheu, when he’s here, in New York City,” his voice was raised in defiance by the end of his speech.

Angie crossed her arms and was puzzled by Rollie’s political statement; it wasn’t like him to hog the limelight like this. The crowd applauded, and he paused, waiting for the noise to die down, slowing his speech for emphasis, “Maybe when people see Red Storm they’ll start asking some questions. So...” he paused for effect, “one more thing... everyone Mambo!” The Australian threw his arms in the air for emphasis and the quiet applause became ruckus cheering as the party continued...

Several hours later the two special effects experts returned to the workshop of Tyler FX, Angie unlocked the door and called out to the small robot inside, “Blue - lights.”

The tall Australian bounded in after the young woman, charging like a warrior, the gold “plated” toilet plunger his sword. He commented to his assistant as he parried past her, “I gave him, the night off.” He took the steps quickly and ended up in the shop lounge before finishing the imaginary fight and placing the award in full view upon the television set.

Rollie grabbed the remote for the stereo and turned on some music, strains of “If you love me” by BB King and Van Morrison filled the room. Angie walked up the steps and dumped Rollie’s keys on one of the pedestals for their effects creations, “Ok... So, what time tomorrow?”

The Aussie grabbed a bottle of champagne from the lounge mini-fridge. “You going?” he queried, sounding almost disappointed.

The young woman stated the obvious, “It’s late.”

“Yeah, and we are... celebrating.” Rollie popped the cork on the champagne and, after grabbing a couple of glasses, walked back over to where Angie was standing at the top of the entrance stairs.

Angie looked a little puzzled at her friend’s antics, but took one of the champagne flutes good-naturedly, “You’re in a strange mood tonight.”

Rollie poured the champagne, and placed the bottle on the pedestal beside the keys. He replied, “I’m in a...” he searched for the right words, “I’m in a good mood tonight. Here is to Red Storm.”

The blonde nodded, not entirely convinced but figured he had had a few drinks too many. She finished the toast, “To Red Storm.”

The two friends drank to the toast before Rollie refilled the glasses, Angie looked at him strangely, it wasn’t like Rollie to be so keen on champagne. He had another toast to propose, “And here is to... us.”

The young woman was surprised at the sentiment, a little wary, not entirely sure what aspect of ‘us’ Rollie was referring to.

“Cause I think we make a pretty damn good team,” finished the drunk Australian.

Angie breathed a mental sigh of relief and made a joke to cover her thoughts, “I’ve always thought so...” She sipped her champagne and watched in surprise as Rollie drained his glass. She placed her glass on the pedestal beside the keys, and bid her farewell to her boss, “Ok, I have two dozen blocks of darkest Manhattan to navigate.”

Rollie placed the bottle and his glass beside Angie’s on the pedestal as she grabbed her jacket and bag, and headed back down the steps to the door. He stopped her verbally, “Angie.”

Angie gave a mental sigh and turned around to face Rollie again, “Yeah?”

The tall Aussie gave his best little boy smile, “Give us a hug?”

The young woman rolled her eyes, and smiled inwardly thinking again that Rollie was far too drunk for his own good.

Rollie saw her reluctance and pushed it further, “Come on... feeling sentimental.”

Angie’s smile reached her face as she imagined the hangover Rollie was going to have the next day. She walked back up the stairs, dumping her bag and jacket. “Whatever you say boss.”

The two friends hugged, Angie wrapped her arms around the back of Rollie’s neck and he pulled her close. They stayed like that for a moment before pulling back, but remaining in the embrace. Rollie chuckled, “Thank you.” He caressed her face with his eyes, “What would I do without you?”

Angie looked into his eyes; there was something different in the way he looked at her. She kept it light, smiling jokingly, “That’s a very good question.”

Rollie took the young woman’s face in his hands and leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. He pulled back, staring deeply into her eyes. The smile faded from Angie’s eyes, the confusion as to whether he was referring to their professional or personal relationship became too intense to ignore. Her heart rate increased as her mind turned over the possibilities.

The Aussie could see her uncertainty and let her know exactly what he was referring to, “Mmm... I mean it... I mean it Ange.” He leant down again to kiss her other cheek before moving up and kissing her forehead affectionately. He held her there for a beat, his mind momentarily distracted, before he kissed her cheek again.

Angie stared deeply into the eyes of her partner as he moved back, her heart rate went through the roof and her mind failed to complete any coherent thoughts as she drowned in his deep brown eyes. Their eyes closed as they began to kiss passionately, her hands ran through his hair at the back of his neck, and his hands caressed her face before moving lower, caressing her body. The smouldering ashes of a fading childhood fantasy were fanned into an inferno as they fell back onto the sofa...

Angie awoke slowly, luxuriously. She opened her eyes and stared at the wall of Rollie’s bedroom. She held her breath, afraid to move, listening for Rollie’s movements, trying to establish if he was still in the bed, and finally realised she was alone.

The beautiful blonde rolled over, and sat up holding the sheet to cover her nudity. She looked down at Rollie’s pillow, smiled and remembered the passions of the previous night. She chewed her lip, hardly daring to believe they had moved their relationship to another deeply fulfilling level.

Rollie Tyler was sitting at the computer, drinking coffee. He had showered and was fully dressed in a snug roll necked sweater and black pants, ready for the new day. He held his ‘I luv NY’ mug, warming his hands with the warmth from the drink and smiled at what he was watching on the computer screen.

Angie descended the stairs from the upper level of the loft. She had borrowed Rollie dark green bathrobe and a pair of warm socks. The young woman took the steps slowly, nervous as to what Rollie would be thinking now that he was a little more sober and it was another day. Rollie looked up, noticing her presence, and greeted her, smiling warmly. “Morning.”

Angie replied shyly, “Morning.” She took the last of the stairs and came around the side of the workstation. Rollie placed his mug down on the desk and swivelled around so he was between her and the computer screen, facing her.

The blonde approached slowly, apprehensively. Her head was down and she risked a glance up at him. She took a deep breath and steeled herself for her question, “So... how are you feeling?”

Rollie smiled reassuringly and pulled the nervous young woman closer, holding her around the waist. “Feeling great.” Her eyebrows lifted a little in surprise and her expression eloquently asked if he was sure. His smile widened into a grin at her uncertainty and he nodded, “Yeah.” He stared into the expressive blue eyes, “How are you feeling?”

Angie’s shy smile broadened in relief and pleasure. She nodded, “Great.”

Both smiles faded and eyes closed as the two friends and partners (in business and perhaps now life) confirmed the new level of their relationship with a kiss. It lacked the urgent passion of the night before, having resolved into what was perhaps becoming a comfortable lasting love. Angie caressed the edge of Rollie’s jaw as they pulled apart again, her arms remained around his neck and she swam in the depth of his dark eyes

Rollie fingered the neckline of his robe on her, “This looks good,” he commented smiling and chuckling.

Angie grinned, a little bashful and unaccustomed to allowing her feelings for him such free rein. They hugged and she buried her face in his shoulder feeling the softness of his hair and the warmth of his sweater. Rollie held her close but looked out distantly, his mind distracted as it was momentarily the previous evening, and he smiled victoriously.

The young woman lifted her head to feel Rollie’s hair against her cheek, she sighed internally, feeling as complete as she’d ever felt. She opened her eyes, smiling contentedly and focussed on the computer screen for the first time. Her stomach turned over and her mind rang warning klaxons as she comprehended the scene playing across the screen. She pulled away from him her eyes glued to the screen, like a deer fixed on the headlights of an oncoming car.

Rollie felt her stiffen in his arms and allowed her to pull away before he turned back to the screen as well; his victorious smile took a more sinister edge, “We are the best, aren’t we.”

Thoughts whirled through Angie’s mind as she watched the scene play out on screen. A scene from the night before - from Rollie’s bed, when they were together, right in the middle of their passion. Personal moments that were shared between two people, not something to be put on tape and played back later. Indignant anger flushed through her body, a horrified offended look flooded her face, “What is this!?! What are you doing!?!”

Rollie’s eyes stayed on the screen as he stood and retrieved his jacket from the back of the chair, “Admiring my technique.”

His answer did nothing to snuff the fuse on the young woman’s anger, if anything it blew it up towards inferno level. She stopped the tape as confusion flashed through her mind spinning the anger and indignation into a maelstrom of conflicting emotions, she didn’t understand what was going on.

The tall man pulled on his jacket and headed for the door, pausing to grab his keys from the pedestal where Angie had placed them the previous evening. She turned and followed, confusion dominating her mind, “Rollie?” He didn’t stop, just continued for the door. Her anger rapidly grew to become the dominant emotion, “Rollie!” She reached him just as he started down the entrance steps, and reached out to grab his right sleeve - she couldn’t let him leave like this, they HAD to talk.

Rollie’s next move completely surprised the young woman. He felt the tug on his upper right arm and allowed the resistance to begin to turn him. He spun on his heels in that direction and his right hand flashed out, back-handing the unsuspecting blonde directly across the face, hard. The force of the strike spun Angie to her left and she fell heavily on her side, putting her hands out to prevent her head striking the workshop floor. She stayed there a moment, breathing quickly, his behaviour so far outside the envelope of his normal behaviour that she couldn’t think, wouldn’t think. Her right cheekbone flushed red at the impact and her tongue tentative reached out to lick the blood that began to seep from a split in her lower lip. She turned and looked up him, disbelief, fear and confusion ran across her features and fought each other as her most significant emotion.

Rollie stood there, a satisfied expression on his face, he waited until she turned to look at him again, his stance was relaxed. He held a small black remote of some kind in his right hand - and he hit a button on it. To Angie’s horror, his face began to change, to morph with a few sparks. The face resolved into a soft cloudy plastic mask covering a man’s face. He commented, “Think of me...” He reached up and pulled the mask from his face, and a wig from his head, “...every time you look at Tyler.”