by Christine
This round robin was written by members of the Barnabas-Quentin Onelist who were unable to attend the 1999 Dark Shadows Fest in New York.
Angelique. Just the name itself turned the women's blood icey, cold enough to the point that if Barnabas had wished to bite them, he'd be biting into popsicles. The only one who didn't turn chilly at the mention of Angelique was Matt, who gazed adoringly at the blond witch.
And the witch, seeing that she had someone under her grasp, smiled warmly at Matt. "It is so nice to meet you," she said, "all of you." Her welcome to the chilled ladies was just as chilled, because she knew that these three were dangerous, and that one, the one named Beverly, could usurp her place as Barnabas's love.
"I need another brandy," Cheri said, and turned back into the drawing room. Chris followed her, leaving Beverly to stare adoringly at Barny, whilst Matt did the same to Angelique. Chris calmly closed the drawing room doors behind her.
"We don't have time for that," she said to Cheri, as the already inebreated women poured another drink. Christine pulled her friend away from the window and to the secret panel that she knew ended up in one of the wings of the house; which one, she didn't really care, as long as they got out of there.
"Where are we going?" Cheri asked.
"To get help," Christine said. "We have to help Bev and Matt. I just don't know who we can go to."
Everything was going peachy until they came to a fork in the passage. "Unbelievable," Cheri said. "Now which way."
"Both," Christine said, searching for some courage.
"Excuse me?" Cheri asked. "We can't be in two different places at once."
"Sure we can," Christine said. "You go that way, I'll go this way." And before her friend could stop her, Chris was on her way down another passage.
"Oh, man," Cheri said. She didn't like this one bit, no way. She could either turn around, or find help. And as she thought about poor Bev and Matt, she decided upon the latter. She had to help get them out from under those spells. Or they all could be doomed.
Susie--whose presence up until now was not realized--came out of the woodwork and waved her hands in front of Bev and Matt's faces. No reaction. Sigh. This was going to be a tough night. Time for a brandy.
But where were Cheri and Christine? She wondered. She remembered Christine pulling Cheri into the drawing room, and then...Maybe they went out the window. Yes, that's where she was going.
Cheri was not having fun. She cursed that college student over and over again. Finally, she saw some light! Yes!
She was on the beach, right below Widow's Hill, or Cliff, or Peak, or whatever that darned thing was called. She looked up, and saw...well, she didn't know what she saw, only that it was a girl, wearing white, and ready to jump!
Christine cursed herself, over and over again. She should've drunk herself under the table, and let everyone else work out the problems. She had run into numerous cobwebs, stepped on tons of gooey, icky things, and broke about seven skeletons. And then she came to a stop.
She looked for some kind of switch to open the door, and finally found it.
It opened into the West Wing room of Quentin Collins. Who was reading a 1968, or 1969, or whatever freakin' year they traveled to, edition of Playboy. Oh, yes, and he was drinking. She sighed, and walked over to him.
"Quentin?" she asked, glaring down at him. It was only when she tore the magazine out of his grip that he noticed her.
"HEY! What are you doing? That was Miss February!" he shrieked.
She rolled her eyes. This was going to one long night.
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