Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters of FX, nor will I ever. They belong to Fireworks and Rysher, where I hope they are treated fairly. The story gets a simple rating of G, but is to be considered a Rollie-Angie romance one (I really doubt I can write any others!) Enjoy! Email comments to katie66_80@yahoo.ca.

When A Banshee Cries

By Kimber

Angie shuddered as she glanced into the rearview mirror. The same face she’d seen yesterday, and the day before that, on her route home stared back at her.

She averted her eyes back from the mirror, and concentrated on the road. The man’s face lingered, and she found herself unable to shake it from her mind. He appeared young, late twenties or perhaps early thirties. His face was round, his rosy cheeks giving him a boyish look. His eyes were clear blue, piercing beneath his thick, bushy brows.

When Angie reached her apartment building, she glanced into the mirror again; the same car was behind her. She grabbed her bag, PDA, and roller blades, and made a dash for the building. Once inside, she went to her block, and locked herself inside her apartment.

The phone suddenly rang, making her drop all of the contents in her hands.

She ran to answer it. "Yes?"

"Ang? What’s a matter, love? You don’t sound yourself." Rollie’s soothing voice came over the lines.

"Oh … uh," she began. She hadn’t told him about the man, for fear he’d overreact. Rollie had promised her father that he’d look after her, but sometimes he took his role a little too seriously. "Nothing, I just ran up the stairs and I’m a little out of breath."

"Oh…" Rollie stuttered. "Well, I just wanted to know when you were coming in tonight. I need some help with this Banshee set-up."

Angie was silent before answering. "I suppose I could drive over around 5:30 tonight." She looked over her shoulder, and spotted the clock. It read 12:45.

"Sounds good. Oh … uh bring your ‘blades, okay? I need the truck for tonight."

Angie shuddered. The thought of ‘blading home in the dark scared her. She would normally enjoy a brisk workout, as she lived only a dozen blocks from the shop. But somehow…

As she hung up, Angie realized that she hadn’t said ‘hi’ to her cat, yet. She usually worked long hours, and when she arrived home Chiops was normally ecstatic to see her.

"Chiops!" She called. The silence answered her.

She walked to the bedroom, and slowly pushed open the door. A flash of green and a hiss met her, making her jump.

"Chiops," Angie clicked on the lights, and bent down.

The cat, seeing his owner, instantly bounded toward her and nuzzled her leg.

Angie began to pet Chiops, and wondered what could have upset him so. Then she spotted the bedroom window.

A small square of glass had been removed from the bottom left corner. Several small cracks ran from the missing piece, through the pane itself.

Angie felt herself shiver. By the looks of it, whoever had tried hadn’t succeeded at getting into her room.

As she slipped into bed, Angie decided she’d clean up later, and hoped that whoever was tormenting her wouldn’t come back.

She shivered.

* * *

As Angie made her way to Rollie’s that evening; she instinctively glanced into her rear-view mirror. A small car was behind her, its woman driver concentrating on the children in the back seat. Behind her, Angie spotted a large black truck; its front window tinted gray

She switched her eyes back to the road before her, and pulled into Rollie’s back lane.

"Angie!" Rollie called when he spotted her coming.

Angie parked the truck and made her way over to Rollie. "Hey."

He studied her face. "You sure you’re alright?"

Angie tried to avoid Rollie’s eyes. She knew he was the only person she knew who could tell when something was wrong. "I’m sure. So, what’s up?"

"Well, we have a tiny problem with the Banshee stunt."

Angie nodded, as she followed Rollie into the workshop. The two were working on a currently untitled movie, about the mysterious lives of the Banshee women.

For the scene, Rollie and Angie had been working on a visualized backdrop that made the Banshees appear to be in the forest. They also had to work with the visual effects and stunts the actresses performed.

"Let’s get to work then," Angie replied.

"I’m afriad it’s not so easy," Rollie said. "We’ve got one week to make this shoot work, and that leaves no time for mishaps. But we’ve got one. Eryka quit."

"Eryka?!" Angie questioned. Eryka Linden had been cast as one of the head Banshees, and without her there would be no movie. And no movie meant no jobs.

"Yeah, apparently she was waiting for word on another job when she took this role. Yesterday she discovered she’d been cast for the other role. Shooting begins today … so she had to choose. And well…"

"Yeah. She chose them."

"So we’ve got no Shannyn now." Rollie said, miserably.

"Can’t you cast someone else?"

"Not with this time-line! The part of Shannyn required a lot of stunt work, and a lot of memorization. We can’t just cast anyone for this role." He took a deep breath. "The only person who knows Shannyn’s lines is…" He let his sentence trail off.

Angie realized what Rollie was implying, and began to back away. "Oh, no. You don’t mean … no Rollie. You know I don’t act!! I … I can’t!"

"Angie," Rollie grasped her shoulders. "Come on, you’re wonderful, beautiful, and a great actress. You can do this!"

"Well … what about Lucinda? She’s good at memorization. I’m sure if you called her…"

"She’s shooting on location up in Alberta. It would waste too much time to get her down here."

"Well," Angie thought about taking the role. True, she’d worked the most with Eryka, and she knew Shannyn’s lines and stunt requirements the best. But she was uncertain about her acting skills.

Then again, perhaps taking this role on would take her mind off this guy who was following her around. And maybe if she just found a way to ignore him…

"Okay."

"Great!" Rollie hugged her. "I knew I could count on you, Ang!"

"Yeah, yeah." Angie replied, grumpily. "Let’s just get started."

* * *

"Angie, wait a sec!"

Angie stopped and waiting up for Rollie. "Yeah?"

"Uh, I just wanted to thank you for taking Eryka’s role again. And … well, I know you said nothing’s wrong, but if anything ever is … you know you can talk to me, right?"

Angie smiled. "Sure."

"Okay, good." Rollie said. "Well, I’d best let you get home, huh? Thanks again."

Angie began to skate down the back lane. Once she was on the sidewalk, she began to skate faster, a feeling of being followed filled her mind.

She glanced over her shoudler, and scanned over the people around her. Nobody stood out. Then she spotted the black truck on the road. The tinted windows allowed her only a minimal view of the driver inside, but she knew the bulky figure matched the man who had been following her around, lately.

She began to speed up, and was about to turn back around when she felt herself being thrown to the ground.

She screamed.

"Hey lady, sorry. I just never meant to run into you, but man you should watch where you’re going. Here, you need some help?" He reached his hand toward her.

Angie took it cautiously and looked up at him. Something about his eyes caught her, the way they were two slightly different colors … where had she seen eyes like that before?

"Angela? Angela Ramirez?"

Angie stared at him, blankly. "Yeah," she nodded. Suddenly she realized where she had seen this man before.

He was Howard Dingman, or "Howie D." to his friends. She’d gone on a blind date with him once … and only once. He was a self-centered, ignored snob.

"Angela, I haven’t talked to you in ages! You said you’d call!"

Angie felt herself blush. "Well, Howie I’ve been really busy between work and play, and everything else." She laughed, nervously. Just the cool look on his face scared her, and she felt herself backing away.

"You could have included me." He said, his voice hard.

"Um … I’d best be going now," Angie said, glancing toward the road. The black truck was gone. "I’ve got a lot of work to do."

"Maybe I could help." Howie suggested.

Angie realized what he was implying and she felt herself blush. "No, that’s alright. I don’t need help." She made to skate away.

"Angela." He grabbed her wrist roughly. "You can’t lead a man on like this."

She pulled away. "Goodbye, Howie."

As she skated away, she ignored her impulse to turn around and go back to Rollie’s. She knew if he knew about Howie, he would put a stop to it. But Howie wouldn’t give up, and Rollie might just make things worse.

She decided to go home to her apartment, where she could settle down with a hot cup of tea, and curl up with a book. And feel safe.

* * *

As Rollie put away his gear, he thought about Angie. He had been thinking about her a lot lately, and that scared him. He wasn’t sure about his feelings for her anymore.

He had noticed slowly, as they’d began to work together, that his feelings had changed. He had always been protective of her, and treated her as a little sister. But his protectiveness had turned to more of a jealous boyfriend type.

He thought about her mood that day. She had been slightly removed, as though she was keeping something from him.

He sighed as he thought of little Angie with the big interior. She’d believed since her father’s death that she could handle anything that life threw at her. But sometimes she wasn’t as strong as she thought she was. Sometimes he found himself wishing that she would seek comfort and protection in him. He knew he could provide it.

The phone rang, shaking him from his thoughts.

"Bluey, speaker phone!" He shouted.

The mechanical dog let out a bark, and Angie’s frightened voice came over the line,

"Rollie!!! Help me, please!" The line went dead.

"Bloody hell," Rollie muttered, grabbing his coat. He raced out to his truck and down the few blocks to Angie’s house.

Once he reached her apartment, he threw open the door, and raced inside.

"Angie!" He cried, spotting her lay against the sofa.

"Rollie?" She called, her voice barely a whisper.

Rollie ran to her, and pulled her into his arms. She was beginning to come around.

"What the hell happened?" Rollie questioned.

Angie shook her head, and fumbled to get up. "He … he was here!"

Rollie pulled her up to the couch, where she rested her head against his shoulder. "It’s okay, love," he kissed the top of her head. "Start at the beginning."

"He … well, a guy, I don’t know who, started following me around the last couple of days. I … I noticed him behind me all the time. I never thought he would hurt me, I thought maybe…" She let her voice trail off.

Rollie held her closer. "Go on, sweetie."

"He just followed me, that was all. Until this morning, I … I found the glass on my window had been tampered with. I never thought…"

"Angie, what happened now. When you called me."

"He was here. He … he was in the apartment when I came in. I tried to run away, but he grabbed me. He whispered something before he hit me … he said," her eyes glazed over and she seemed far away. "’You’re mine, Angie.’"

Sobs began to rock her body.

"Angie, it’s alright now. I’m here for you," he said, soothingly. "You’re coming to my place tonight, it isn’t safe here."

"No!" Angie said, stubbornness filling her voice. "I’m not giving in to this moron. He can’t just break in here, and destroy my life!"

"Angie, we’ll get Mira to help us, you can’t do this all by yourself."

"I’m not leaving." She said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Well then neither am I." He replied, meeting her eyes.

Her clear blue eyes gave him the reassurance he needed. They told him more than anything she could have said herself.

That was the way they fell asleep that night, Angie curled up, her head on Rollie’s shoulder; Rollie with his arms around her, securely.

* * *

"Okay people! Now, you all know about Eryka’s departure. And we ran into a little problem in casting her role. As you know, there is not much time left to film. So instead of recast the role, I’ve cast someone who knows the role inside out, maybe even more than Eryka knew! I’ve cast … my beautiful assistant, Angie Ramirez."

"Angie! Angie!" The actresses chanted. They all knew Angie from her work with them, and enjoyed being around her.

"Thank you," Angie said, coming to stand beside Rollie. "I have but one request with the stunts I do, as well as the lines. You have to help me with them."

"Angie, girlfriend, you don’t need no help!" Chaly, a lead Banshee, called out. "But I’ll help you if you need it." The other actors nodded in unison.

"Thanks, guys."

After all the actresses had been briefed, they began their first run through before shooting began."

Angie was, as Rollie had expected, perfect for the role of Shannyn. She fit the costume perfectly, and her acting skills were superior. Rollie knew that, despite the fact that Angie hated to admit it, she’d had a lot of acting experience. She’d grown up with a father in the movie business, and he’d often placed his little girl in his movies.

The last scene of the movie was the final one … for that run through. Once they were done the run through, they would take a short break, and then begin shooting the rest of the movie.

Rollie caught Angie’s eye, and winked to her. She smiled in return and gave him a "thumb’s up" signal.

Rollie knew this was her big moment. In the scene to come, a Banshee named Gabrielle (played by Chaly) warned Shannyn not to leave the compound, because she’d seen Shannyn’s death is one of the visions. Shannyn, very in love with a mortal, ignores her friend’s warning, and leaves. Shannyn meets her end when a hunter puts an arrow through her chest, piercing her heart.

Rollie and Angie had designed the bow and arrow set so that it would appear realistic. What really was to occur was that the bow would shoot out the arrow, and the arrow would strike Shannyn’s heart. However, the arrow would retract on impact, and Angie would be wearing a hard vest that would shield the impact of the arrow.

"Alright, are we ready to take the final stunt?" Rollie called out.

The actresses nodded. Angie walked over to Rollie, slapping Chaly a high-five on her way over.

"Ya ready?" Rollie asked, giving Angie’s shoulder a squeeze.

She nodded. "I think so."

Once they’d been set up, the girls waited patiently as Rollie hooked Angie’s gear up, and they made sure everything was ready. The actor who played the hunter appeared, and he was given the bow and arrow set.

"Okay, places everyone, we’re going for the take!" Rollie called out.

The set fell silent, and the shooting began.

"Don’t go!" Chaly (as Gabrielle) said. "I … I saw you yesterday, Shannyn. I saw you death. You mustn’t leave."

"Yes, I must," Angie replied. "I have to see Conor, I can’t lie without him." She turned and began to walk away.

Chaly began to follow her, but backed off. She faded into the smoky background.

A sudden noise erupted from behind Angie and she turned. The hunter was in the bushes behind her, she could see the glow of his blue eyes.

"No…" the word was lost in her throat, as she fell to the ground, clutching at her chest where the arrow had entered.

The look on her face was of pure horror, her cries seeming almost real.

The Banshees cried.

"Great! That’s a take!" Rollie shouted. "Perfect work you guys! Chaly, girls, take a break! We’ll meet back here tonight to do more shooting. Great!!"

The actresses began to disperse, Chaly came running to Rollie.

"Great, Chaly, it was so real!"

"Rollie! Listen, Angie’s not getting up. I … I think something’s wrong." Chaly said, concern in her voice.

Rollie frowned. The stunt called for Angie to stay down after she’d been shot, but she should have been up by now.

"Angie? Ang?" Rollie called.

She began to stir.

Rollie ran to where she lay. He bent down beside her, and grabbed her hand. "Ang? Are you okay?"

Angie moaned. "Rollie, I … I can’t feel my right arm."

Rollie stared down at her arm, and spotted the problem immediately. "Angie … the arrow…"

The fake arrow, which Angie had designed to retract as soon is it hit the contact spot now protruded from Angie’s shoulder. Rollie didn’t think it had retracted.

"Rollie … what’s wrong?" Angie asked, panic in her voice. "Rollie?!"

"Shh," Rollie pulled her up into his lap. "It’s going to be okay. Chaly, call the ambulance. Quickly!"

"The arrow…"

Rollie looked up and saw Lyndon, the guy playing the hunter who’d shot Shannyn. "Mate, it doesn’t look good. The arrow missing its mark, and it’s planted in Angie’s shoulder."

"I … I swear I shot the arrow the way we’d rehearsed. I don’t know…" Lyndon stuttered.

"It’s alright. It was just an accident. Go wait with Chaly, alright?"

Once they were alone, Rollie looked into Angie’s face. Her eyes were barely open, her right shoulder was limp, thick red blood was staining her green outfit.

"Oh, come on Angie. You have got to hang on for me. I’m sorry I made you do this job. I … I really need you."

"It wasn’t an accident, Rollie." Angie whispered, her voice low. "I know it wasn’t."

"Please, the ambulance is on its way, and we’ll patch up your arm. And then … we can talk." Rollie said, stroking Angie’s hair as she closed her eyes.

"I’ll be okay, Rol." Angie said, softly. "I’ll be okay."

* * *

"So you mean to tell me that Angie knew this creep was stalking her, and she didn’t say anything?!?" Mira shrieked.

Rollie smiled, nervously. "Well, not exactly. She knew something was up … you know Angie and her 6^th sense. But she didn’t really know until…"

"Until she was broken into." Mira said. "Man, Rollie. Even then you didn’t call me!"

"I wanted to, but Angie wanted to deal with it herself. She thought if she left him alone, maybe he’d stop it."

Mira sighed. The tragic tale of every stalked woman. "Well, to late for that now. I suppose we will have to wait until they release Angie. Then we can talk to her. You heard anything on that?"

"The doctor says she lost quite a bit of blood, but he’ll release her later tonight. I was thinking she shouldn’t go back to her apartment."

"Great thinking, Rollie. You’ve just volunteered yourself to keep her at your place. Don’t let her leave without your supervision. Even to the supermarket, you go with her." She patted Rollie’s thick shoulders. "You are officially her bodyguard."

Rollie nodded. "Alright. I suppose you can come by tonight and talk to Ang. I mean, she told me bits of information, but that’s about all. The guy was about twenty, or thirty. Brown hair, round face. Last time we saw him he was driving a black truck with tinted windows. I don’t know much more."

"Possible motive?"

"Nothing," Rollie shrugged, deep in thought.

Mira sighed, saying she would drop by later to visit. She slowly walked down the hospital corridor, waving a final goodbye to Rollie as she went.

Rollie made his way to the waiting room, and decided to stay at the hospital until that night, when Angie would be released.

* * *

"So Mira was pretty angry, huh?" Angie questioned.

"She sure was," Mira entered the loft, and threw her jacket on the coat rack. "How are you?" She asked.

Angie attempted to shrug. "The shoulder hurts, but I should regain all feeling by tomorrow … in time for the shoot."

Rollie froze. "Angela, you’re not coming back to the movie. Whoever’s doing this to you knows where you are, and there are still stunts to perform. I don’t want to run the risk of having you hurt again … or killed." He sighed. "I won’t allow it."

"Oh come on, Rollie. Don’t think you can just take this role from beneath my face. This is just a little scrape!"

"It’s NOT just a little scrape, Angela!" He cried. "You could have easily bled to death."

"If my opinion counts…" Mira intervened. "I think the role could help Angie get through this quicker. As long as you’re extra careful with her shoulder, and the stunts."

Angie shuffled over on the couch, and propped herself against Rollie. "Please?"

He sighed. "Oh, alright. But I’m watching you like a hawk. And you’ve got to promise me not to leave without my permission."

"Fine."

"Now, Ang. What can you tell me about this guy, besides what Rollie told me…" Mira said, recounting what Rollie had told her.

Angie bit her lip. "Not much more. He … well, I suppose it started with him following me. I kept seeing him behind me on my way to and from work. Besides that…"

Mira took the information down, and began to get up. "I suppose I should let you get some rest now, Ang. I’ll keep in touch though." She grabbed her coat, and with one last wave, left the loft.

"So I’m really stuck here?" Angie asked, once Mira was gone.

"Yep, you are. So do whatever you want, just keep things late, okay?"

"Where are you going?"

"To bed. It’s nearly eleven, already. We’ve got an early shoot tomorrow morning."

Angie hesitated as she watched Rollie walk up the staircase. "Rol?"

He spun around. "Yeah?"

"When I was shot, and we were waiting for the ambulance … you said some stuff … something. And I just…"

"That I need you?" Rollie asked. He made his way back down the staircase, and came to stand before her. He took her left hand. "I meant it, Ang."

"But…"

"Shh," Rollie silenced her. "Angie you know how much you mean to me, don’t you? You are my life. You’re my partner, my best friend. Just the thought of losing you … scares me to death." He smiled at her. "I want you in my life forever."

"Rollie," Angie began. Her heart was pounding in her chest. Just the thought that Rollie felt the same way for her made the color crawl up in her cheeks. "What are you talking about?"

"I…" he brought his face closer to hers. "I think…"

The phone suddenly rang, startling the two. Rollie jumped first, leaping over the couch to reach the phone.

Angie lingered a moment longer, wondering, fantasizing what might have happened had the phone not rang.

"Tyler FX?" Rollie asked.

Angie saw his face turn ashen.

"Oh no, is anything missing? What about the cat? Can’t find him? Alright, we’ll be right over." He hung up the phone, and returned to where Angie stood.

"Will this day ever end?" Angie joked.

"Ang, it’s your apartment. Someone broke in and … everything is trashed. Mira wants us to come down so you can see if anything is missing. Come on, let’s get your coat…"

* * *

"Oh, man." Angie shrunk against Rollie, not wanting to face the mess that was once her apartment.

"Angie, if you hadn’t been at Rollie’s…" Mira began.

The first thing Angie spotted was her once beige walls. The words "Angie" and "must die" were now emblazoned on them. The couch, and other furniture was destroyed, their stuffing strewn all over the room.

"Ang…" Rollie began, pulling her into his chest. It was beginning to set in just how much danger Angie was in.

Angie pulled from Rollie’s grasp, and began to walk through the apartment, her head felt hazy.

"Chiops?" She asked aloud to no one in particular.

"We couldn’t locate him." Mira answered. "But maybe you could have better luck."

"The tub," Angie began, rushing toward the bathroom. Rollie followed at her heels. "Chiops!" Angie swooped down, and took the cat from the bathtub, cuddling him to her chest.

"Angie, don’t…" Rollie began.

Angie spun around before Rollie could continue. She spotted what he’d been referring to, and saw why he’d wanted to shield her.

On the large mirror, just above the sink, was a horrifying scene. A picture of Rollie and Angie that had appeared in the Times, during a shoot they’d done last, appeared in the center. Angie had her arm around Rollie’s neck, and he had his arm around her waist.

The picture had been taped to the mirror, Rollie removed, and scratched out in red marked on top of the mirror. Angie had a knife drawn into her chest, the smile of her face had been turned into a blood-red frown.

"Oh, God…" Angie fell to the ground. Her world went black.

* * *

"Angie? Aaangieeee…"

Angie struggled to open her eyes. She could hear Rollie’s voice but she couldn’t locate where it was coming from. "Rollie?" She whispered.

"Angie, come on sweetie, come to."

Angie felt him grasp her hand, and she felt his warm hand on her cheek. "Rollie…" she opened her eyes.

The concern on Rollie’s face was immense, and Angie felt herself melt into him.

He hugged her to him. "Angela, don’t scare me like that! When you passed out, you hit your head on the counter, and had to get stitches. I was so bloody worried!"

"My place?" Angie asked, throwing her arms around Rollie’s shoulders.

"It’s okay. The police are going through it now, and then we’ll be free to go back."

"I don’t wanna go back." Angie mumbled. "I can’t. Not after seeing…" she began to cry. "What have I done that’s so bad, Rollie? Why does he want me dead so badly?"

"Angie, this man is a sick person, and whatever reason he has for stalking you is NOT justified.

"I’m a bad person, aren’t I? That’s why he’d doing this! I deserve this torture, this hell! Why?"

"Angie, you listen to me," Rollie began, positioning her so that their eyes met. "You are a wonderful person. There are a lot of people here who love you, and care about you. And you don’t deserve this kind of torture. You don’t!"

"Then why?" Angie moaned.

"I don’t know," Rollie replied, holding her close again. "But trust me, we’ll find out. We won’t stop until we do."

* * *

"Okay, Rollie, everything’s been checked. No traps or hitches tonight."

"Thanks, Jimmy," Rollie replied. "Alright it’s a take, guys! See you all tomorrow to go over that material, alright?"

The actors began to disperse. "Angie, could I see you for a sec?"

Angie trotted over to Rollie. "Yeah?"

"You ready to head home now?" Angie nodded. "Well, we have a touch of a problem. I have to go out to a boring meeting tonight, and you need all your rest. So…"

"I’ll stay home." Angie replied, nonchalantly.

"I was thinking," Rollie continued. "Maybe Mira…"

"I don’t need a babysitter! C’mon, I’ll stay. Promise!" Angie begged. "I’ve been so good lately. I’m getting claustrophobic with all these people around me, and I’m bound to lose my mind!"

"Well, I suppose it’s our only option tonight." Rollie replied.

* * *

When Rollie left that night, he made sure Angie had tough instructions to follow.

"Rollie, lay off already! I know what you’re talking about. Stay here, and don’t leave for anything."

"Angie, I know it may seem like I’m being overprotective here, but I’m not. I just care about you, and I don’t want anything to happen to you."

"Rollie, go." Angie ordered, wrapping her arms around his waist. "I will be fine."

"Okay," he hugged her back. "Be good."

As she watched him leave, Angie let a sigh escape her lips. She wanted to be alone, wanted the time to herself to think. Yet part of her was afraid, afraid that whoever was after her would find her. She would do anything to get him to stop, anything.

As if on cue, the telephone began to ring. Angie called to Bluey,

"Bluey, speaker phone!"

"Angela Ramirez?" A low voice asked.

Angie froze. "Yeah?"

"I have some information for you on the stalker."

"Who are you?"

"I’m a friend who wants to help. Can’t say much more."

"Can you make him stop?"

The voice was silent. "Yes. Meet me on the set of the Banshee movie. Ten minutes." The phone disconnected.

Angie considered the situation. If she left, Rollie would be angry with her. But if she was back before he was, and she solved the mystery … everything would be better.

She threw her coat on, turned all the lights on, and headed through the front door.

* * *

"Rollie, what’s up?" Jimmy asked. "You’re here pretty early."

Rollie frowned, "What do you mean? We have a meeting here, haven’t we?"

Jimmy laughed. "Oh Rollie, you’re such a kidder."

"So let me get this straight. I just drove half an hour for nothing? Dammit!"

"Rollie, there’s no meeting. Whoever told you that, obviously didn’t know what he was talking about."

"So then…" Suddenly something hit Rollie, and all the pieces began to fall into place. "Dammit, it was a trap! Angie’ home alone now … gotta go!!" Rollie took off for the elevator, and made his way to the truck.

He had to get home to Angie.

* * *

"Hello?" Angie walked through the dark building. She knew Rollie had shut down the power for the night, and she couldn’t re-start it until tomorrow. "Hello?" She called again.

A movement startled her, and she tried to adjust her eyes to the darkness. "Are you here?"

"I’m here." The vaguely familiar voice replied.

"Well…" Angie said, after a period of silence. "Do you know who’s torturing me?" "Yes." The voice answered. He was silent as he moved through the darkness.

"Where are you? Hello?" The silence scared Angie. She couldn’t place the figure anymore.

Until she felt herself being grabbed from behind. She shrieked, and tried to pull away. She thrashed at the man, trying to break free.

Her second hit made contact, and she heard something hit the ground.

A flash of light momentarily blinded her, and she realized what she’d hit was a flashlight he had been carrying.

Once she recovered from the blindness, she found herself face to face with her attacker and informant.

"Howie?" She breathed. "What…"

Howie Dingman threw Angie away from him. "You weren’t supposed to do that!" He shrieked.

"You?" The truth was beginning to set in. "It … it was you?!"

"As if you are really surprised." Howie taunted. "Come on, Angela, you aren’t that stupid."

Angie began to slowly walk away from him.

"Stop there!" Howie shouted. He reached into his pocket, and pulled out a square shaped box. "This is set high enough to permanently damage your brain, if I choose to use it. I’d stay there if I were you."

Angie stopped. She’d seen stun guns like the one he held, and knew he was serious. "But why?" She questioned.

"You know" Howie spat out, coldly. "You broke my heart, Angie. You were the only girl I ever felt for, and what did you do? You turned me away!!"

"Oh, Howie. It just didn’t work out. It … it wasn’t you," she lied.

"Then why didn’t you ever call me?" He asked. "I … I thought we meant something to each other that first night. I thought…"

Angie remembered the first, and only time they’d went out. From the moment Lucinda introduced her to Howie D, she’d hated him.

"Howie, I have a busy life. I don’t have time for a personal one."

"Sure you don’t," Howie replied. "What about your boyfriend, Tyler?"

"Who … Rollie?" Angie asked. "Oh, no. We’re just friends, really!"

"Don’t lie to me! I can tell when you’re lying!!"

"I’m not!" Angie protested. "Please just leave me alone."

"Leave you along?" Howie laughed, cruelly. "Angie, I love you."

Angie felt a chill rack her body. It traveled up her spine, coming out as a tremble in her shoulders. Howie sensed it. He walked over to her, the stun gun still in his hand.

"Are you cold? Because I can make it real warm for you."

Angie tried not to show the disgusted look on her face that she felt. "No, Howie, please."

"You’re mine, Angela Ramirez," he said, advancing on her. "You’re mine."

* * *

When Rollie reached the loft, he threw the front doors open, screaming Angie’s name.

"Angie!! Oh God, please. Angie!?" He raced through the loft.

Passing Blue, he noticed his red button was flashing fiercely. Who would have phoned since he left?

The program he’d installed into Bluey allowed all incoming and outgoing calls to be recorded.

He pushed the button.

"Angela Ramirez?" The low voice came over the still air.

As the rest of the message came out, Rollie felt himself shiver. Whoever had called must have lured Angie out of the loft … into the set of their movie.

Rollie quickly race to his truck, yelling to Blue that he wouldn’t be back without Angie.

* * *

"Angie?!" Howie called.

Angie cowered in a small corner. When Howie had advanced on her, she couldn’t think of anything to do other than knock the flashlight out of his hand. But she hadn’t thought about what to do when he found her.

"Angie, you can’t hide forever!" He shouted.

Angie knew he was right. She couldn’t hide forever, but forever was all she had! Nobody knew where she was, and even if Rollie returned home early, he would never think to look for her here.

She sighed. Big mistake.

"Angela, I’ve got you now." Howie grabbed her arm and forcefully pulled her up. He shone the flashlight in her face, blinding her.

"Howie, please!"
"Why did you run?" He cried. "Can’t you see I love you, Angie?"

She fought the urge to throw up. "I … sort of like you too." Lying to him was the only think she could think of to do. It might buy her a little time, and if she loved him … he wouldn’t kill her.

"You … what?"

"I was afraid to say so, but Howie, I love you."

He seemed to consider her words, then suddenly frowned. "No. You’re lying. You don’t really mean that."

"No," Angie pleaded. "I do. Really I … I love you."

Howie was silent, his deep brown eyes searching Angie’s face for the truth.

"She doesn’t love you," A voice came from the darkness. A different voice.

Howie spun around, his flashlight illuminating the figure.

"Rollie!" Angie cried.

"Tyler, what do you mean?" Howie asked, pointing the gun at him.

"She loves me, Howie. I’m the one you want. I stole her from your arms."

"You!" Howie spat.

"Me," Rollie repeated. "So, how ‘bout you let Angie go, and we fight it out like men."

Howie considered it for a moment. He turned, and walked towards Angie. "You chose that over me?" He asked, raising his eyebrow.

"I…" Angie began.

"Yes," Rollie intervened again. "I love her more than anything in the world." He caught Angie’s eye, and she saw a moment of truth in his.

"You lying filth…" He threw the stun gun to the ground and reached into his pocked, withdrawing a shiny silver object. A real gun.

"Angie, run!" Rollie shouted.

Unbeknownst to Rollie, Angie had already begun to back up and she was poised just within inches of the fire alarm.

Howie fired, and it was for that reason that Angie did not realize what was going on. She pulled the alarm as the shot rang out.

"Angie!" Rollie watched as she fell to the ground with a shriek. "No!" He felt himself plow towards Howie, his arms outstretched.

He hit his mark, knocking Howie to the ground, and the gun from his hand. Howie’s head hit the pavement, and he was instantly knocked out.

"Angie," Rollie whispered as he ran to where he’d last seen her. He felt around in the darkness, finally making contact with a still form. "Oh, Angie…"

He lifted her into his arms, cradled her head against his chest. He felt for a pulse and found a slow, but sure response. "Angie, please, be okay. What I said, before and today I meant it. I … I love you and I could never imagine life without you. This whole thing is my fault … I should have protected you better, I shouldn’t have gone tonight, I…"

"No, it’s okay Rollie." Angie’s voice, quiet and strained, cut through the darkness.

"Oh, Angie." Rollie kissed her forehead. "Just hold on. Hold on."

She held.

* * *

"Don’t you worry, Angie. Howie Dingman will be locked away for a long, long time."

Angie nodded, and tried to smile. "That’s good, Mira. Thanks." She shifted on the couch.

The hospital, surprised to see her again, had discharged her into Rollie’s care once she’d been fixed up.

The bullet hadn’t caused much damage, entering into her left side, and straight out again. The path was more of a graze than a hit.

"Well, once again I best leave you alone, so you can get some rest." Mira began to walk toward the door.

"Oh … Mira?" Angie called to her. "Don’t worry. That’s the last time I get shot … for a while, at least."

"Good to hear!" Mira called, closing the front door behind her.

The room was silent for a minute after Mira left. The two who remained were unsure as what to say.

"Listen, Rollie…" Angie began. "I’m awful sorry I left when you told me not to, but I really want to thank you for making those things up to save my skin."

"Angie…" Rollie began, hesitating for a moment. "I didn’t make those things up. They came from the heart."

Angie wasn’t as shocked as Rollie had expected her to be. "Well," she said. "I … I don’t think you’ll want me to work here anymore; I mean I’m pretty useless, shotup and all."

"I don’t mind," Rollie replied. "I’m sure I could find some use for you. Girlfriend of the boss, perhaps?" He blushed.

Angie smiled, as Rollie came to sit beside her on the couch. "I…"

"I know it’s sudden, and the last thing I want to do is rush you. But with all we’ve been through together lately, I … I realized just how much you do mean to me. I love you, Angie."

"Rollie," tears came to her eyes. "I love you, too."

Rollie wrapped his arms around Angie’s waist, and did what he had been waiting a lifetime to do.

Kiss the girl of his dreams.