A Woman Scorned
ATF Universe
Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction based on the characters
from the television show "The Magnificent Seven." No copyright infringement
is intended to Mirisch, Trilogy, MGM, CBS, TNN, and anyone else holding the
rights to the characters. No profit will be made from this work.
Author’s Notes: I heard this song, and the more I heard the song,
the more I saw the emotional reaction of one woman to the changing events
around her. Many, many thanks to Cin (SUPERDIVA) for encouraging me to write
and submit this, along with doing the beta work. For my technical beta: you
probably got me into writing this, so I blame you. You know who you are.
Warning: Strong Language, Sexual Situation, Adult Commentary, and
remembered violence. This is a VERY DARK AND DISTURBED PIECE. YOU WILL NOT
FIND ANY HUMOR IN THIS AT ALL.
The woman sat alone in the crowded restaurant,
careful to keep her face concealed from the couple across the room. She
deliberately drew no attention to herself, but remained intent on the objects
of her interest. Her wrath, never far from the surface, started simmering,
as she watched their hands clasp on the tabletop. He caressed that woman’s
fingers, giving the blonde the smile that he used to give to her. They laughed,
a picture of bliss, and her spite grew.
A familiar tune danced in her head, a refrain she felt was written especially
for her. Under her breath, she started softly singing the potent lyrics.
"I want you to know, that I’m happy for you." Sarcasm dripped
from her lips, emphasizing the word happy. Her eyes narrowed, but she continued,
"I wish nothing but the best for you both."
She fell silent as the server silently refilled her glass. After he left,
like every man in her life, she raised the glass in a mocking toast to the
oblivious couple.
The woman studied the blonde, comparing this latest love interest to the
other woman, the other hated brunette that once occupied his days. That brunette
paid for her presumption with her life.
The woman started singing again. "An older version of me, is she perverted
like me? Would she go down on you in a theatre?"
Lost in memories, the restaurant faded to that magical day so long ago. The
day she found, and instinctively recognized, her heart’s eternal desire.
She did indeed go down on him in a movie theatre, and the powerful sexual
rush that it gave them both left them stunned. It was their first date, but
she knew that night he was the one for her. That night was filled with
animalistic lust, and that lust captured her heart forever. They were a couple
from that night on, and none of their friends ever thought of one without
the other.
But the bliss did not last.
He left her.
Rage shook her body, and her fingernails dug into the flesh of her hands
around the mug handle. The pain of his leaving, his betrayal to their sacred
bond, stoked the fires of her hate. Taking a deep breath, the woman willed
herself calm with significant effort, and released the glass mug. She needed
to stay focused in order to learn about them and remain hidden from him.
She studied this new rival for his affection, taking in the cool demeanor,
the easy smiles and the long, simmering gazes the pair exchanged. Gazes filled
with promises.
Her head tipped to one side. "Does she speak eloquently? And would she
have your baby? I’m sure she’d make a really excellent mother."
The woman knew this because of the sacrifices the blonde woman made
for her young son. She’d had the woman investigated, learning everything
she could about her rival. A rival that was a threat to her plans, a menace
preventing their inescapable reunion.
Another dagger pierced her heart as she thought about the fact that they
never had children when they were together years before. They should have,
and she wanted to, but he said he wasn’t ready for fatherhood. The LIAR!
He wanted that boy the brunette gave him, and seeing him with the boy ripped
the carefully rebuilt shards of her heart to shreds. She wanted those looks
for THEIR child. THEIR son.
Thinking of her body swelling with his child settled her a bit. She reassured
herself, rationalized everything, and quashed her doubts. He loved her. She
knew it in her heart, and she knew he was her destiny. No one, not even him
and his misguided declarations, could change her mind.
"Cause the love that you gave that we made wasn’t able to make it
enough for you to be open wide, no." She fumed. "And every time you
speak her name does she know how you told me you’d hold me until you
died, ‘til you died, but you’re still alive!"
The woman remembered the promises he gave her, the whispered assurances that
they would be together forever. It didn’t work out that way, and he
left her. HE rejected her.
It destroyed her when he went away, leaving her with a gaping wound where
her heart once resided. That wound never healed, and never would heal, until
he was hers again. She believed she was created for him, and he was created
for her. They were destined to be together. The Fates were RIGHT. Why
couldn’t he see it?
A hard edge entered her tone at his stubbornness to embrace his destiny,
her, the only woman for him. "And I’m here to remind you of the mess
you left when you went away. It’s not fair to deny me, of the cross
I bear that you gave to me. You, you, you oughta know."
He obviously did not know, because when he and the blonde left the restaurant,
he held the door for her. Just like he did when they were seeing each other,
and it sent another poisoned dagger through her heart. The care he once lavished
on her, he now fawned over this simple blonde with, and it hurt to watch.
The enormity of what she had done for her love weighed on her, and she felt
a tiny bit bad about the child of that hateful union with the brunette, the
child who did not deserve what happened. He was the only innocent to a degree.
He was part of him, but tainted with the mother’s blood.
The mother took the man, and deserved to pay for that offense. And the mother
paid. Sarah. That was her name. Two syllables, just like her own. An annoyingly
genuine nice person, Sarah never made enemies. Everyone loved Sarah. HE loved
Sarah, and he MARRIED Sarah. Not her, but Sarah.
A sneer crossed her lips. She hated the agonizing wretchedness she felt when
she imagined them together. Saying the vows. HIM saying the vows to another
woman, when he said that he loved her. It should have been her, not Sarah.
If she had another copy of their wedding photograph, she would shred it right
now. Again. And keep shredding until it was her in the photograph.
Then the boy came. Adam. Even the name of the child showed the arrogance
she loved about him – he named his child after the first man in the
Bible.
He was radiant as a new father. Sarah glowed. They were happy. A picture-perfect
family. Except for one thing. Sarah was in it. So, Sarah had to be removed.
Replaced.
She remembered the dying screams of the burning woman, trapped in the car
as it blazed around her. It was a gruesome picture, vividly captured in her
mind. Sarah could not get out, and Sarah suffered an excruciating death.
The boy died with her, but he died immediately. A small mercy for the innocent,
since the men she hired planted the destructive device under his booster
seat to kill him immediately.
It took everything in her not to go to him when he fell apart. She wanted
to hold him, comfort him, but she could not stop her jubilation from showing.
She also understood he needed time to grieve before he could be ready for
her again. Magnanimously, she gave him that time. Her re-entry into his life
had to be choreographed perfectly.
But seeing Sarah burn. Oh, that was incredible. It excited her thinking about
it.
Drawing back from her musings, she followed them out of the restaurant parking
lot to the movie theatre. Again, she remembered the many times they went
to the movies just to be together. They had lived for the thrill of having
sex in the dark, public place, and now he was taking the blonde woman with
him. Quietly, she bought a ticket after they went inside, finding a seat
where she could see them lit by the muted glow of the large screen.
Her voice stayed low as not to disturb the people around her. "You seem
very well, things look peaceful." She noted the new character lines on
his face, and the infamous smirk he gave the blonde bitch when they broke
for air. Her fingers itched to run through his hair, and her heart yearned
to see that smirk directed her way again. Not at the blonde.
It made her feel better to say these things, admit them to herself. Not too
much better, especially watching them together. The longer she stared, the
lonelier and angrier she felt.
"I’m not quite as well, I thought you should know." She thought
he didn’t care, one arm wrapped around the blonde’s shoulders,
pulling her closer to his side. A side where she belonged, not this blonde
interloper bitch. Her hand reached into her purse and pulled out a picture
of him with the blonde bitch. The black marker appeared in her hand from
the depths of her bag. She drew ragged strokes across the blonde bitch’s
face. She started singing softly to him.
"Did you forget about me, Mr. Duplicity? I hate to bug you in the middle
of dinner." She wanted to send him her regards in the restaurant and
watch his face when he saw her, but she decided to watch and learn more about
him and his habits. She needed time to plan; she dared not reveal herself
to him yet. She had no doubt that their coming back together was inevitable.
"It was a slap in the face, how quickly I was replaced." The woman
bit back her ire. She thought about the brunette that captured his heart
and took his name. To her, he found someone new so fast, while she tended
her shattered existence, only surviving one minute to the next. Now, the
brunette was gone, and she wanted to be an integral part of his life again.
The blonde bitch beat her to it.
From the way he was thoroughly kissing the blonde bitch, their relationship
had progressed into the physical. She could almost taste his kiss again,
and summoned thoughts of his distinctive style that melted her bones and
made her completely compliant. It should be her. Seeing them necking set
off the ceaseless, throbbing pain, and fanned the flames of fury in the woman.
"Are you thinking of me when you FUCK her?"
The thought of him and the blonde fucking was enough to push her to the brink
of insanity. She hissed the next few words. "Cause the love that you gave
that we made wasn’t able to make it enough for you to be open wide,
no." Viciously, she shook her head. She knew he kept things from her
then, more and more often his heart. Near the end, she barely reached him
emotionally, and felt the distance in their lovemaking. It would take a little
time for him to remember how beautiful it was between them, and then things
would be nearly perfect.
But the blonde had to go.
One way or another, the blonde bitch would be removed from his life. She
wanted no reminders of his past indiscretions. And if his team, those he
called friends, interfered or caused problems, well, every problem had a
solution.
"And every time you speak her name does she know how you told me you’d
hold me until you died, ‘til you died, but you’re still ALIVE."
Her mind screamed ‘You’re mine’, and her heart echoed the
sentiment, but her eyes betrayed her, showing a very intimate couple. Those
locked lips mocked her. She should be receiving those kisses, damn it.
She watched them, thinking ‘what about me’. "And I’m here,
to remind you, of the mess you left when you went away. It’s not fair
to deny me, of the cross I bear that you gave to me. You, you, you oughta
know."
Her eyes burned, and she realized that she was crying. Again. The tears continued
unchecked down her cheeks while the movie played. She could not stay any
longer and watch them. It hurt too much. Quietly, she left the theatre. She
paused at the door. "Cause the joke that you laid in the bed, that was
me. And I’m not going to fade as soon as you close your eyes, and you
know it."
The woman drove through her watery vision to her friend’s house, banging
on the door. When it opened, she flung herself into his arms. He caught her,
used to these sporadic visits, and changed the hurt to passion. For a short
time, he drove the demons away. Just before she lost herself completely,
her fingers digging into his skin, she whispered, "And every time I scratch
my nails down someone else’s back I hope you feel it…well, can
you feel it?"
She did not know what he did, or where he was, but she wished he could sense
her turmoil, and her undying love for him. She wished he could take away
her pain, or suffer the same torment she did in their time apart. It was
only temporary, she assured herself, before the world straightened out, and
she was his, and his alone, again.
When it was over, the lust spent, calming her murderous rage for the moment,
she did not linger. Driving away from her friend’s house, she was forgetting
him immediately as her thoughts turned once again to her only love, and getting
quickly to HIS house. It should be THEIR house; they planned a place just
like this one, and she rightly should be living here. She could see every
detail of the interior, courtesy of the unscrupulous private investigator.
The pictures and video made her believe it was her home too, and she already
knew what changes she wanted to make. She nearly parked her car right at
the main door, where it belonged.
Instead, the blonde bitch’s car sat there right beside his truck, like
it and the blonde bitch had any claim there.
Silently, she approached the house with stealth. Creeping to the bedroom
window, she remembered how he hated curtains, as she peeked inside. The Venetian
blinds were slanted open, and it gave her an excellent view - a view of him
having sex with the blonde bitch. Not thinking of what she’d just shared
with another, her only thought was that it should be her underneath him,
not the blonde bitch. Biting back her anger, she stumbled her way back towards
her car, blinded once again by the hated tears of weakness that began to
flow. No matter how she tried, the scene played over and over again her mind.
It infuriated her. Rage filled her system, thinking of him touching the blonde
bitch the way he should be touching her. He was being unfaithful to her!
She stumbled and fell against hard metal. It was the bitch’s car. The
one that shouldn’t be here - she was not worthy. Glancing cautiously
back toward the house, the tears dried as a plan came into focus. She found
herself on her knees, near the front wheel, then lowering further to slide
underneath. It only took a second, such a simple act for a simple woman.
One tiny slice and her plans were in play. One nick, a small leak, a gradual
loss of pressure, and the brakes would fail. What a tragic accident. And
the blonde bitch would be gone.
She smiled as she stood once more beside the car, staring at the house. It
would be over and he would be hers once more. She nearly screamed. She did
allow herself to mutter louder as she rushed back to her car, "And I’m
here, to remind you, of the mess you left when you went away. It’s not
fair, to deny me, of the cross I bear that you gave to me. You, you, you
oughta know."
Closing herself within her own steel vehicle, she beat her hands against
the dashboard and continued yelling until the frenzied rush emptied from
her system. Chest heaving, she saw a light switch on in the bedroom and the
Venetian blind rustle.
Not wanting to be caught yet, the woman hastily backed out of his driveway,
hitting the highway at a high rate of speed. She took the first ramp to throw
him off if her future husband decided to follow her.
She needed to plan, especially how she would be there for him to console
him. Another love so tragically lost. Oh tonight, singing that song to him,
made her feel so much better. She found the CD, always close at hand, and
slid it into the player. Turning up the volume full blast, she screamed the
lyrics along with Alanis Morissette.
After the last noted faded, and her emotions calmed, she sighed. Nights like
this drained her. But she couldn’t stay away. No matter what her friend
or her therapist told her. This was healthy for her. Being near him. He would
soon see she was perfect for him. She would soon be his wife. Ella Gaines
would become Mrs. Chris Larabee.
The End
Comments: ch1diva@lycos.com
I want you to know that I'm happy for you
I wish nothing but the best for you both
An older version of me
Is she perverted like me
Would she go down on you in a theater?
Does she speak eloquently
And would she have your baby
I'm sure she'd make a really excellent mother
Cause the love that you gave that we made
Wasn't able to make it enough for you to be open wide, no
And every time you speak her name
Does she know how you told me you'd hold me
Until you died, 'til you died
But you're still alive
And I'm here to remind you
Of the mess you left when you went away
It's not fair to deny me
Of the cross I bear that you gave to me
You, you, you oughta know
You seem very well, things look peaceful
I'm not quite as well, I thought you should know
Did you forget about me, Mr. Duplicity
I hate to bug you in the middle of dinner
It was a slap in the face how quickly I was replaced
Are you thinking of me when you fuck her
Cause the love that you gave that we made
Wasn't able to make it enough for you to be open wide, no
And every time you speak her name
Does she know how you told me you'd hold me
Until you died, 'til you died
But you're still alive
And I'm here to remind you
Of the mess you left when you went away
It's not fair to deny me
Of the cross I bear that you gave to me
You, you, you oughta know
Cause the joke that you laid in the bed that was me
And I'm not going to fade as soon as you close your eyes, and you know it
And everytime I scratch my nails down someone else's back
I hope you feel it ... well can you feel it?
And I'm here to remind you
Of the mess you left when you went away
It's not fair to deny me
Of the cross I bear that you gave to me
You, you, you oughta know
You Oughta Know
Alanis Morissette |