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Date Posted: 20:35:36 01/24/02 Thu
Author: huntess
Subject: Chapter 4 (in completed)
In reply to: huntess 's message, "Overtime" on 20:16:40 01/24/02 Thu

Chapter Four:

Quencie was led to the room where she was to start her session. The room was filled with dummy bags. “Ah, the battle for one on one hundred!” she joked. The Colonel just stood silently. “Oh, come on, Philly!”

“Why don’t you take things seriously sometimes, Quencie?” he asked.

“I don’t know.” Quencie shrugged. “You tell me.”

The room was silent for a long moment. “Get to work,” he said, as he sat in the chair by the door. “Session Alpha 345!” he added. That was the hardest session to a normal human, but to a were-cat...it was a walk around the park. The session to Quencie wasn’t quite easy...at least she seemed to have a problem one time or another.

Quencie began her session with a meditation she had learned, not only at the “palace,” but also at her do-jo. She used to practice karate and kung-fu, until she had to work to support herself and Jonny. Once done, she began to beat and pelt the dummy bags. Within an hour, sweat was dripping off her chin. Her uniform was nearly all black by the time she was done.

“Nice job, Quencie!” Colonel Monae said, patting her back.

“Thanks!” Quencie said after a few deep breaths.

“Now, let’s go for a little run, shall we?” he asked with a malicious smile.

“Okay. How far?” she asked with a happy face and high hopes.

The Colonel thought a while and finally said, “Ten fast miles!”
“Kay!” Quencie chirped as she skipped out of the room. Her hair was sticking to her face. It was very uncomfortable, so she pulled a rubber band from her pocket, and tied it into a pony-tail.

They walked outside the building, as well as the gate. “All ready!” Quencie said finally.
“Have at it!” Monae said, and Quencie took off. She didn’t take any short cuts, mainly because she was having fun. Less than an hour later, she strode up to Colonel Monae. “Not bad!” he said, astonished.

“Hee...” Quencie grinned.

“You are much too happy!” Colonel Monae said, shaking his head. “You deserve another workout!”

“Whatever...” Quencie said with a shrug.

Quencie skipped to the weight room, and was put through a strenuous program. One that only a lion or tiger could accomplish without getting hurt seriously. She always blamed her strength on her ability to control her thoughts. She was an expert at it.

“Done yet?” Colonel Monae asked after a lot of weight lifting.

“Almost,” she replied. “One last push, and ...” she said as she pushed the weights up into the air over her head. “There!” She set down the weights as light as possible.

“Good! Would you like to come with me on my rounds?” he asked, starring at Quencie.
“Depends.”

“On what?” he asked.

“On what time it is!” she said breathing easier than before.

“It’s 12, noon!” he said, looking at his watch. “You’ve been so busy doing all this; you must be hungry...” he hinted.

“Hungry for blood!” Quencie mimicked the ancient voice of Dracula. “I vant to suck your blood!”

“Or something else!” he said, giving Quencie an old look she knew much too well.

“Get a life, Philly! You had your chance!” Quencie said as she turned to leave.

“Ha, ha!” Monae said. “It’s not my fault! If the General hadn’t have called me away...” he added following her down the hallway.

“Oh, don’t give me that, Philly!” Quencie snapped. “You could have just quit, and ran away with me. Why the hell do you think I signed on to this job?! I wanted to be with you!” she whimpered as he pulled her up to him. “But no! You had to go with that slut, Liza!” she exclaimed as tears began to form in her eyes. “I loved you!” She fought out of his grasp.

“I’m sorry...really...” he replied, and tried to comfort her.

“Don’t!” she said and broke away. “I’m over it now!” She wiped away the tears and began to smile at a memory. The Wolf’s Hour. Maximilion getting his butt torn up by her little well kept secret. How sweet it was! “What time is it now?” she asked.

“Five past twelve.” he answered.

“Oh.”

“You up for lunch?” he asked again.

“Sure, why not?” she replied, with a shrug and a sigh.

They went to the cafeteria and ate what ever was served. Quencie didn’t bother to ask what was what. She was afraid to. The slop they served was so unpleasant that Quencie wouldn’t even give it to a pig. She ate quietly, until the General decided to join them.

“Quencie..so nice to see you.” he said in a subdued tone. It was the first time she ever heard him speak that way. “How was the work out?”

“Quite fun, actually, sir!” Quencie said, matching his tone.

“Fun?!” he asked, amazed. “How can that be fun?”

“When you’re thinking of whoopin’ a big were-wolf’s ass, it’s fun!” Quencie said through a laugh.

“Keep dreaming, Quencie!” he said with a smile and a little chuckle. “Keep dreaming.”

“I will, sir!” Quencie smiled.

“I have to go, Quencie, see you around. General,” Monae said, and gave Quencie a kiss on the cheek.

“Bye, Philly Cheese Steak!” Quencie said teasing him.

“Bye, Tigger-Pooh!” he replied with a grin.

Quencie glared at him until he turned away. “Pay no mind, sir.” she said to the confused General. “It’s a personal joke.”

“Of course!” he said trying not to look so confused. “I must confess, Quencie, you are one of the most strongest soldiers I’ve ever commanded!”

“Except Philly!” she added.

“Well...um...yes...except Phil...I mean Colonel Monae!” he stumbled. Quencie giggled at the fact that she could confuse the old General. “Stop that!” he snapped.

“Sorry, sir, couldn’t help it!” she said with a frown.

“Freshen up before you come to the meeting today.” he ordered.

“Yes, sir!” Quencie said, as she stood from the table. She put the tray on a conveyor belt, which people behind the wall collected them from. She entered the lady’s restroom in the side hall before the main corridor.

“Can you believe it?” a female voice asked. “I heard that the Prince is going to show up at the meeting!” She was putting her hair in a bun, when she saw Quencie’s messy hair. “Oh, Gawd! What happened to you?!”

“Training...” Quencie said. She took out the rubber-band, and tried to fix the mess. It didn’t take too long to straighten it out. She turned on the water, and washed her face and hands. The two women just watched her.

“Who are you, anyway? I’ve never seen you before!” the one with the bun asked.

“I’m usually home, and very much asleep, while you get to romp around all day,” Quencie explained. “And the name is Quencie.” She dried her hands and turned to leave.

“You’re not a shifter, are you?” the same girl asked.

“Maybe, maybe not,” Quencie replied.

“You sure?” she asked again.

“Why do you ask?” Quencie inquired.

“Oh, no reason. I just wanted to know,” she replied, shrugging.

Quencie turned to look at her. “Why?!” she asked annoyed.

“Because I heard that only humans work the night shift so they wouldn’t scare away the important people around here!” the girl’s voice hardened.

“Don’t cross me today, girl...” Quencie took a step forward.

“Don’t mess with me, human!” the girl growled. She shifted into a 5 foot-8 inch jaguar.

Just great, Quencie thought.

“Look, I don’t want a fight!” Quencie said.

“And I don’t want to look at your face!”

“Live with it!” Quencie said, starring into the girl’s eyes. She had a special ability that could lull a beast out of its own anger. The other girl in the room slipped out quickly. Quencie finally calmed the jaguar down just before the General came it.

“What’s going on!?!” he yelled.

“Nothing, sir!” Quencie said as she stood at attention.

“Quencie, get out of here!” he screamed.

“Yes, sir!” she screamed back, and quickly left. Once the door to the room closed, she heard the General yelling at the jaguar.

“What the hell were you thinking, Tysha?!”

“Nothing, sir! I swear!”

“That girl is one of the best damn soldiers I’ve ever commanded!”

Quencie was feeling proud, very proud. It wasn’t normal for the General to admit to anything, and being the best in the world was the highest he’d go.

“Hey, Quencie!” Kitty’s voice rang with happiness. “Whoa,” she said, when she heard the General’s voice through the door, “what happened?”

“Tysha tried to start a fight with your friend!” The girl that had gotten the General was standing by the door, waiting for Tysha. “You should be more careful,” she said to Quencie, “Tysha can tear a horse apart in five seconds; think what it’d be like on you!”

“Please, Marla!” Kitty said. “Quencie could take on a were-wolf any day!” she bragged.

“Kitty! You know what happened last time you said that?!” Quencie mentioned.

“Oh, yeah, never mind!” Kitty remembered.

“That’s okay!” she assured Kitty.

“So, how was the session?” Kitty asked, changing the subject.

“More like sessions!” Quencie replied. “Let’s see, I did Session Alpha 354, 10 miles around the block...no cuts...and Weight Beta 120 Ty! Pretty much an easy day!” Quencie said with a grin.

“You are nuts!” Kitty said with an amazed laugh. “Come on, Quencie! I want to get a good spot in the throne room! They say the Prince is gonna make an appearance!” Kitty grabbed her friend’s arm, and strode toward the room. Marla followed, not wanting to wait for Tysha.

Once in the room, Quencie noticed the shifters were all in their hybrid forms. Some were just changing, while the humans watched. “Where’s the General?” someone asked.

“Lady’s room, down the hall, yellin’ at Tysha, again!” someone laughed and three others joined in. “She needs an attitude adjustment!”

“No! Really?!” another person asked sarcastically. Laughter soon followed. The whole room roared with conversation, as late shift and day shift joined together.
“May I have your attention, please?! May I have your attention, please!?!” Colonel Monae yelled over the crowd.

The room went silent a second before Quencie yelled, “No!” She grinned mischievously at Monae. He gave her a look, telling her to be quiet or she’ll go through another training session.

“Everyone, but Quencie, listen up!” he announced. The General soon entered the room, with Tysha hanging her head, was handed a piece of paper, and stepped up to the throne to give the announcements.

“Ladies and gentlemen! Shifters of all cat kinds! I have in my hand the names of those who will
guard the inside during the Grand Ball!”

Quencie could feel her heart pumping with anticipation. “Easy, girl,” she said to herself. “Don’t get your hopes up so high! Ease it down!” She couldn’t wait. “Please, let me be in Kitty’s group!” she prayed.

“Hey, I wanna be in your group!” Kitty whispered. They tried not to laugh at each other; it wasn’t a good time to joke around. “Please, oh, please, oh, please!” Kitty chanted. Quencie’s heart started to beat faster than before.

“Lynn! Brian! Faith! Quimson! Michall! Trey! Infaria! Kittyana! And...” the General hesitated. “Sara!” he finished.

“Oh, no! Quencie! You’re not in there!” Kitty said sadly.

“I don’t get it!” Quencie said surprised. She looked toward Monae, who was standing, with a smile on his face, looking directly at her. “That little...” Quencie mumbled angrily.

“Now! I will also announce the two lucky guards that will stand by the throne at all times!” the General said, cutting her off. “They are...Colonel Monae, who volunteered, and Quencie!” he said with a malicious grin.

Quencie glared at Monae with wishful thoughts of beating him senseless. “Why I oughta!” she said annoyed.

“Come here, Quencie!” the General snapped.

Quencie trotted to the steps and took her post by Monae. “Quencie, Monae, would you care to demonstrate how to take on an opponent, if one so happened to try to hurt our dear Prince?! Just show them the stance to start in Quencie; Monae, you know what to do!” the General said happily.

Quencie did as he said. She did the usual bow to signal respect and honor, then the “tiger pawz” as she called it. Monae shifted into a slender black panther! Quencie remembered, then, why she had loved Monae so long ago. His strength was triple of what he could lift as a human. He never looked better.

“Very nice!” a voice rang out from the door well Quencie had came through earlier. The voice was followed by applause from whom ever it came from. A figure emerged and slowly walked up to Quencie. “I am the one known mostly as ‘The Prince’ but you can call me ‘Your Highness’!” he said to Quencie. “And you are?” He looked up and down her black and grey, nearly dry, dirty uniform. “What a filthy uniform!” he mumbled in disgust.

“I’m Quencie, ‘Your Highness’!” She did a mocking bow, as she introduced herself. “I’m also in a bad mood!” she warned. “My! What a gawdy outfit!” she mimicked his voice perfectly.
Everyone in the room gasped. “Look, ‘Prince’” Quencie said annoyed. “I have been working to protect his royal ass for three months straight! I’ve been here for three years, and like hell if I’m gonna be treated like this by a fake like you!” She mimicked the voice of a typical blonde cheerleader. “Now, if you’ll excuse me...I wish to see the real Prince!” She turned, sniffed the air, and stepped behind the throne. She saw a small opening in the curtain by a window and pulled it back out of the way. The real Prince was sitting on the ledge, just waiting for Quencie.

“Good girl!” he mumbled with a smile. He hopped down from the ledge and shifted just before hitting the ground. His black stripes were confusing. The white fur was clean, and looked more like snow. His ice blue eyes were fixed solely on Quencie. He stood nearly 8 feet high. “Now let’s see how good you really are!” he said before lunging at her.

Quencie jumped out of the way, instinctively, and just in time. The Siberian were-tiger landed softly as a growl escaped the snowy muzzle.

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