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By Wisshen


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Author's Notes: Kaden and Protocol go _way_ back. What
were they like in their precocious teenage years? This
can stand alone, but is more a piece to help understand
the characters portrayed better in a different work-in-

Dated: 6th February 2002


He first saw her in one of the many nameless
nightclubs filled with the pulse-pounding beat of
smoky, frenzied dance music where the dancers melted
and melded with each other as a single undulating
entity. The skittering lights darted away from her as
if they could not bear to touch, but came back again
and again as if she were an addiction too sweet to
break. Her large blue eyes leapt out at him
glittering like diamonds under the sweat-soaked gold
of her hair while her soaring voice bound him in
crystalline chains. She crackled with energy,
bouncing from one end of the stage to the other,
flinging her head back and shaking her hips, her arms.
She personified the deafening scream of the speakers
like an approaching storm spitting fire. Dressed head
to toe in provocative black leather, she was the
epitome of sin. And yet he sensed a burning purity
within her, as sweet and clear as the source of a
mountain spring.

He craved the touch of her eyes, the quicksilver
flash of her grin. But he was only one in a sea of
adoring fans, and she never looked his way. Some
nights he came, some nights he didn’t. He saw her
often, but always at a distance. Sometimes she sang.
More often, she danced, partnered with a rapid
succession of beautiful youths always unable to keep
up with her. One night, he dared to step into the gap
as an exhausted boy dropped and she arched an eyebrow
at him wickedly, questioning: Can you?

They danced and danced, their feet thumping to the
rhythm of the drums, whirling away from each other
and back again. She laughed in delight, provoking
similar gasps of merriment as they upped the tempo
and allowed the music to steal their breath. It
seemed that time slowed, stopped and encased them in
a bubble where only the music existed, pounding
through his veins, and his beautiful, enigmatic dance
partner. Dark and light, untamed beauty in motion.
Closer now, he saw the darkened streaks of red in her
hair like flames that blended into the pale gold so
like his own. Her eyes were rimmed in dark blue
pencil, her lips the colour of burgundy wine.
She arched against him, cat-like and drenched him in
her perfume as the music reached a crescendo and
pushed up on her toes to stain his mouth with the
artificial red of her lips. He knew in his bones,
without a hint of arrogance, that they made a
stunning couple and jealous eyes stabbed at them from
all directions.

Abruptly, he was aware of her shouting in his ear.
Aname. “Savanna.
Kaden Savanna.”

She withdrew from his arms, her wide eyes luminous on
the darkened dance-floor and burned him with their
touch long after she had melted into the crowd. He
started forward, reaching out as his mouth shaped her
name to call her back-

-and woke up.


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