A Page Re-written (part 3 of 21)

a Madlax fanfiction by Bakablonde

Back to Part 2
"No more for me, please." I waved at the waiter. It had been a miserable 
evening, and drinking could only help so much. Thomasio had quit, and 
his replacement was a large, loud man with curling red hair named Byron, 
whose main passion in life appeared to be talking about what a great 
rugby player he was. When he had shown up, my first thought was to back 
out, but I really had nothing else to do.

I hadn't seen or heard from Madlax all day, and I realized that although 
she carried that cell phone, I didn't know the number. Or where she 
really lived, other than her claim to live with me. Or what she did for 
a living...and why she seemed to know me, and to somehow get to me, so 
well.

"What do you say we cut this joint?" Byron's large hand was on my 
shoulder, pushing me back to the moment.

"Good idea." I muttered, wondering if Madlax might be waiting at home 
for me. Of course, I had never given her a key...I shook my head, 
scolding myself for thinking of her living with me at all.

"Nice night out." Byron draped his arm over me as we went to the lot. I 
cast him a glance sideways, but he ignored me. "We should take advantage 
of it."

"I just want to go home, if you don't mind. I've got something to do." I 
said, as he unlocked my side of the car. I went to get in but suddenly 
his arms were around my waist and arms, pulling me back into him, 
squeezing me so hard I could barely breathe. I suddenly felt chilled 
with fear, realizing I was not in a good situation.

"Pretty thing." I winced at the smell of alcohol on his breath, his face 
next to mine. "Let's stay out and have some more fun."

"Your fun is over." a voice said evenly, and I heard a clicking sound.

"Shit!" Byron yelped, letting go of me and stumbling back. I turned to 
see Madlax standing there, with a gun pointed at Byron. I was already 
afraid, now I started to tremble. What the hell was she doing with that 
thing?

"You need to get in that car and go away." she gestured with the gun, 
and he nodded meekly, glancing in my direction as if I were the one in 
danger, but he was leaving me on my own.

"Of course. Of course." he muttered, and got into the car, gunning it 
quickly out of the lot.

Madlax put the gun back in her jacket. "That is not a nice man." she 
said matter-of-factly.

"That wasn't Thomasio. What are you doing with a gun?" I asked, my voice 
shaking. "Why are you here? Did you follow me?" I felt so overwhelmed 
from fear and confusion, I wanted to cry. I wanted to punch someone. I 
wanted to feel safe. I stood there, hands balled into fists, as she 
walked over to me. For some reason I went to hit her, but she caught my 
hands, holding them up on either side of her, then embraced me.

"Don't be scared." she whispered, as I pulled her hair with my hands. 
Why I felt safer with her, a strange girl with a gun, was beyond me. Why 
was she here? Was she some sort of criminal after me? Or a strange 
guardian angel?

"I can't take it, Madlax." I choked out. "I don't understand anything 
anymore."

"Come with me for a drive- I'll try to explain."

----------

"Take off your shoes and climb up." she urged me on, smiling, patting 
the hood of the jeep. The night sky overhead was brilliant and cool, 
with a beautiful view of the city lights below.

"If I had known I was going to this I wouldn't have worn this outfit." I 
grunted as I climbed onto the warm hood, her hands reaching out to help 
me. She scooted back, pulling me with her, till she leaned her back into 
the windshield. She bent her knees, parted her legs, and pulled me into 
her, despite my protests.

"You'll be warmer this way. Go on, lean back and relax- look up at the 
stars." she said, as we did a final shifting to get comfortable. Her 
chin plopped comfortably onto my head as if we'd done this together 
before. I sighed, feeling much warmer, and safer, than I had earlier.

"So- you're some sort of agent. And the gun is part of your job. And 
you've actually killed people with it."

"That's right. I'm damn good too. I take pride in my work."

"And you know me because you're an agent?"

"Sort of....when I was an agent, before."

"Before what?" I asked, thinking that the whole conversation was not 
sane, yet I was there acting like it was. If she was telling the truth, 
I lay under the stars in the arms of a killer. Female, no less, and 
young, a good eight years younger than me. "I must be crazy." I 
muttered, starting to get up, but her hold was firm.

"What are you so afraid of?" she guided my head back under her chin.

"That none of this should make sense, or feel right, or...I don't know."

"Do you believe in re-incarnation?" she shook her head as if she had 
said something wrong, then started again. "Well, it's not 
re-incarnation, exactly- but I can't explain it much better than that. 
To put it simply- your life has been re-done."

"Are you saying that's how you know me?" I asked, trying to see where 
this strange conversation was headed. "Because if that's the case, then 
why don't I know you?"

"Because your page was re-written, and mine hasn't changed." she said 
quietly, in a tone that carried a hint of grief. I remembered what she 
said about her parents, and squeezed her hands with mine. We sat in 
silence for a while.

"There was a book...well more than one...very powerful. The books were 
destroyed, but I had one page. It was like... having one wish."

It didn't make any sense, but I didn't think asking questions would 
help. She gave a deep sigh, so deep it pushed me forward for a moment.

"I only had one page. I could only change one thing." she said softly, 
almost more to herself than me.

"Instead of your parents...." the thought suddenly occurred to me, 
bizarre as it was, unreal as it was, that if she'd truly had some sort 
of choice to re-create someone...

"You." her fingers intertwined with mine, and she turned her head to one 
side, resting her cheek on me.

To have been re-created, I must have died. Feeling a small tinge of fear 
come back, I did not want to know if my assumption was correct. On top 
of that, the fact that she chose me...what did it mean? Why would I be 
so important?

"I....I don't know what to say." I whispered, trying to make some sense 
of things.

She yawned. "Say let's go home, Vanessa Renee."

Onwards to Part 4


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