s*t*a*r*s 9 - pt 161

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s*t*a*r*s 9 - pt 161



            Abby walks shoulder to shoulder with Spencer, they whisper in a conspiratorial way.  Sydney is pushing Rylee, while Tegan has her nose in a map.  “I think we need to go here,” says Tegan, darting a finger at the tourist map.  “Chocolate!”

            Abby’s head snaps up and she spins around.  “Chocolate?”  Her tone is virtually seductive.  “And a five star restaurant – and Wheaton is paying.  She has the most money out of us all.”

            Spencer giggles.

            “I think we are going there,” says Rylee to Sydney. 

            They are trolling the streets of San Francisco.  For no reason they had picked it on the map.  It was six hours from Los Angeles.  To their astonishment, Spencer had Rylee drive them to an airport and Harley had flown them there.  The short flight had been fun, and now they were here, hours away from their parents playing tourist. 

            “Oh, yeah we are going there!” says Abby. 

            “Chocolate!” say Rylee and Tegan in unison.  “Jinx!” calls out Rylee.  Tegan groans, pretending to zip her lips.    

            Spencer swings her arm around Abby and their heads arch down again, whispering some more.

            “What are they talking about?” asks Sydney. 

            “No idea,” grumbles Rylee.

            “Plotting the end of the world?” asks Tegan. 

            “We should have asked Daisy to come along,” says Sydney.  “I didn’t think of it.”

            “She’s busy,” says Rylee. 

            Tegan slows.  “How do you know that?”

            Rylee feels the blush on her cheeks.  She knows Daisy’s schedule like the back of her hand.  “I heard her mention it at practice the other day.”

            Tegan cocks her head and isn’t sure she believes Rylee. 

            Abby turns and is about to say something when her face pales.  “What was that?”

            “What was what?” asks Sydney. 

            Spencer freezes.  She feels the air changing; there is a fierce spike in energy.  “Oh my god.”

            “What?” says Tegan, reaching over and touching Spencer’s arm. 

            “Earthquake,” says Spencer in a feral voice, her eyes shift into full on electric blue.



            Darci paces the library of the Legacy while Dathan sits at the desk, his steepled hands in front of him, waiting.  They are waiting for answers.  Praying for them.  Darci’s hand absently rubs her already showing belly.  She’s at about, by size of the baby in the ultrasounds, four months pregnant.  This was, of course, possible.  If not for the fact that Darci knows she wasn’t pregnant until at least 4 weeks prior. 

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