Gift of Song [TAG Fairfax]

[Kaylee Miller]

Fairfax was hanging back, if only a little. This prey had fangs, so to speak. He wasn't keen on getting whalloped in the face again, and he was being a bit more cautious, loping along behind his panicked, fleeing prey at a leisurely pace, making sure he could get a good look.

The cougar didn't need the human part of his mind to figure out that the prey no longer appeared as threatening, now that it no longer held the large, heavy thing. There were no other large, heavy things.

He'd hung back long enough. With an abrupt burst of speed, he took an impressive, flying leap.

[John Valentine]

John's heart was beating a mile a minute, but that certainly didn't mean much.  His heart always raced, though this was definitely a special circumstance.  He didn't often get chased down by a cougar intent upon eating him.  That alone required a special response from him.

The second he felt that new stab of fear, when Fairfax leapt at him, was when he moved.  He twisted around, much like he was twirling a dance partner, and was suddenly NOT occupying the space Fax was landing in.  Taking a note from the animal whose form he possessed, as well as his poor Sax case, he whipped his arm around with his hand fisted to smack the cougar in the back of the head in a marvelous backhand swing.

Swans had fight, when they tried. 

He took that instant to take a running leap for the ladder of the nearby fire escape, but he knew he wasn't going to make it on his own.  He was no ninja, and a normal human couldn't get up those simply for security reasons.  He needed a boost, which was exactly what he gave himself.

Fortunately, he hadn't been too fond of his clothes, since anything covering his back practically exploded as huge white swan wings swept out.  It may have been pretty to anyone who might have seen, but it had a practical use.  When he jumped for the ladder to the fire escape, he flapped those huge wings, headed for the ladder.

Which he caught, and hung on to.

And here, ladies and gentlemen, is where his brilliant plan ran into a bit of trouble.  Fire escape ladders, unlike just about anything else he could have grabbed, do a funny thing when they have weight on them.  They fall.

John's weight pulled the ladder down, though he held onto it despite the surprise of suddenly falling, and he suddenly found himself still on the same level as the cougar.  Lovely.  Perfect.  RUN.

He shot a panicked look at the cougar and began to shoot up the ladder, knowing that if he survived this, he was going to forever think of that and feel extremely stupid.

[Kaylee Miller]

It was one indignity for a cougar to pounce for prey and miss. It was yet another when, after landing on preyless, hard concrete, paws splayed, the cougar gets struck in the back of the head.

This was not nearly as painful as the saxophone case had been, and mostly just served to annoy the dickens out of Fairfax. As an initial reaction to the blow he flattened himself to the ground, snarling, recoiling out of the way in case another blow was to follow. His ears flicked up when he realized that his prey was running again, and in a flash he was following.

As his prey leaped, so did he. The sudden appearance of wings did not faze the cougar: his prey was a bird to his senses, no matter what it looked like, really. As John grabbed hold of the fire escape ladder, Fairfax slammed into the bottom rung, scrabbling wildly for a hold.

When the ladder started to plummet, the cougar dropped, startled, landing on all four paws and twisting out of the way as John and the ladder landed. All right. Enough. With the hair-raising scream that cougars are notorious for emitting, he sprang yet again, aiming for the back of the neck.

Oh. Wings. This did not bide well for Fairfax. Without a way to get around those wings, with prey moving vertically, with no place to land other than on his prey, he slipped. Quickly, he lashed out his claws and dug them into the first thing he could get a grip on: John's right leg. This was shortly followed by his jaws on the swan's thigh.

[John Valentine]

The bad thing about fighting with a cougar, besides the claws, teeth and speed, is that they're big.  And that scream is enough to scare the hell out of most anyone.  Having his attacker slam into him in a missed attempt at attacking hurt, but he was upward bound, and not about to let something like pain get in his way.

Wait a second.  His leg was suddenly on fire.  Nix that pain getting in the way thing.

John screamed, not nearly as impressively as Fairfax, when the claws dug into his leg, but the teeth quickly following actually shut him up.  They didn't hurt immediately, but were a pressure that scared him even more than the pain did.  He was NOT going to allow a cougar to take a chunk out of his leg without a fight.  Instead of punching the animal though, he swung with something that had a little more oomph.

His wing.

Anyone who's been beaten with a swan's wing would know that, while they weren't exactly designed as weapons, they packed quite a wallop.  Afterall, they were strong enough to carry the large bird into the sky, so they had to be strong.  These wings were even bigger, proportionate to his human body, and he swept one in for a backwards stroke.  He had to get Fax off of his leg if he was going to be able to climb the ladder.

[Kaylee Miller]

He had this one in the bag. NOTHING could go wrong now: he had his claws AND teeth in the leg, his body was weighing his vertically-fleeing prey down, he--

WHUMP.

--was quite suddenly on the ground. Not by intent. He hadn't even landed properly. Thank goodness it hadn't been a very far fall. Still, Fairfax had the wind knocked out of him, and sprawled there to the side of the ladder, panting and stunned.

A tiny bit of his mind was creeping back to him...perhaps it was the memory of being out of breath. That was certainly a familiar feeling.

[John Valentine]

John had no idea that he'd knocked the wind out of the cat, or that it was a familiar feeling to Fairfax.  All he cared about was climbing that ladder as quickly as he could with his leg bleeding and his wing throbbing from the blow.  It'd be bruised, but nothing serious.  If he took too long, he'd probably be in more serious trouble, so he climbed.

As soon as he'd made it to the platform above and his weight left the ladder, it wooshed up after him, and he found himself staring down at the cat.  He felt strange, almost like a cat in a tree, waiting for the dog below to get bored.  Would Fairfax get bored and go away?  With the way John's leg was bleeding, perhaps not.  He immediately took the remains of his shirts and tore them up to tie around the wounds in his leg.  Bleeding to death after escaping being eaten would be very disappointing.

"You can go away anytime now," he snapped at the cat below.  It'd get bored eventually.  He hoped.

[Kaylee Miller]

Still panting, the big cat tilted his head back and stared up at the bleeding man. There were aggressive sounds on top of the ever-present fear.

'Go...away'...?

Within the feline's mind, Fairfax, the human Fairfax, was definitely stirring. He was beginning to notice things, to actively ponder them: he was on the ground...in an alley?...he kind of ached, ouch, that was unpleasant...something still smelled wonderful...

The cougar was still very much present. Growling softly, Fax pulled himself into a crouching position, lowering his head and keeping his eyes locked on the platform above, tail switching dynamically.

[John Valentine]

"Fine.  Stay there.  I really don't care," he went on, leaning back against the metal in an attempt to make himself comfortable.  He realized that he might have to stay there awhile, and actually hoped his saxophone wouldn't get stolen while he was trapped up there.  That would suck. 

Of course, waiting also sucked, and the cougar didn't seem to be getting bored.  Damn patient predators.  Naturally, Fairfax would remain crouched below him, waiting until he either couldn't stand sitting there anymore, or bled to death.  He wasn't sure which seemed more likely at that point, but he was going to do his best not to let a cat out-wait him.  So he started whistling.  It was actually a tune from a soundtrack he'd recently heard, Sweeney Todd.  He was impressed with the singing and even the lyrics, but the music itself stuck with him.  Besides, he thought the presence of blood warranted such dark melodies. 

He'd gotten completely through 'My Friend' and 'Johanna', then started 'Epiphany' before help arrived, though it wasn't at all in the manner he expected.

'Help' actually happened to arrive in precisely the form John needed, though he didn't recognize that immediately.  Ash wasn't stupid, and he noticed the discarded musical instrument and the whistling as soon as he was within range of the alley.  He wasn't personally a large patron of the arts, but he knew that no musician would just leave their instrument like that.  He followed the sound of the whistling, completely unafraid, and evaluated the situation before him with only mild interest apparent on his face. 

"You look as though you'd like some help, my friend," he called up to the man he located on a fire escape, who'd been the source of the whistling.  Seeing the shockingly white wings wrapped around the man, apparently for warmth in the slowly chilling evening air.  Ash paid little attention to the cougar for the time being, instead smiling at the way the man started suddenly before calling out an affirmative. 

"Now, exactly what were you thinking?" he murmured, talking to the cat finally.  It was obviously a shifter, or at least, it was obvious to him.  He could see it in the animal's aura. 

[Kaylee Miller]

The cougar couldn't have cared less about the noises his prey was now making. He was content crouching there, watching the white wings that stood out starkly in the gloom of the alley, smelling blood, waiting for movement. He did not intend to jump up there, even if it was within his limits. No need to waste energy.

The human, however, was desperately trying to dredge up the reason why this whistling was so bloody amazing. The music, the MUSIC, he loved this music...what, music?...what was music...

OH. Fairfax's mind surfaced with shocking suddenness, causing him to sit bolt upright.

SWEENEY TODD. Oh, gad, how he adored that show! He had the whole bloody piano score memorized, what fun he'd had accompanying at rehearsals back when the local troupe put it on, how ecstatic he'd been to hear a movie was coming out--

Wait. Wait. Where am I? Uneasy, he cast his gaze about at his dark surroundings. He had a vague recollection of running...of falling...of ow-his-chest-hurt... He automatically reached to gingerly touch his chest...

He blinked. Bloody hell.

Instinct jumped back into play when there was a noise further down the alley, and Fax jerked his head to the side, ears pricking up. His human mind didn't get muscled out of the way this time, however. Fairfax was an unsettled mix of feline and human, at the moment, and very uncomfortable with the situation. So he'd shifted...he was a damned COUGAR...there was someone on the fire escape above him --although he hadn't the foggiest what someone would be doing up there...and someone new was coming.

...Mr. Leone??? He stared in disbelief...but there he was!

"Now, exactly what were you thinking?"

The cougar wanted to retreat to assess this development. Fairfax's desire to greet Ash was greater, so he gathered himself up on all fours and exclaimed, "Mr. Leone!"

...Only it came out as an odd chirping sound. What sort of cat chirps? he grumbled to himself. He wondered if Ash could possibly recognize him like this, particularly with his inability to communicate, and decided it was high time to change back.

...Er. How does one do that, I wonder...

[Ash Leone]

To Ash's benefit, he didn't laugh when the large cat rose and chirped at him, even if he would have liked to.  He smiled, though.  He had the sudden feeling that he might know this cat, and since he didn't know many cougars, that narrowed it down rather sharply.  Fairfax seemed to need a little help.

"Hello to you, too.  How about a hand with that?" he asked, still talking to the cat, despite John's weird looks. Really, it didn't take much to fix this situation for Ash.  He was probably the best equipped in the city. 

He took a few steps closer to Fairfax, then aligned the palm of his hand with the cat's forehead, though he didn't actually touch him.  That wasn't necessary.  It was from there that the triste tugged at the elemental aura, making the necessary prods to do the job.  It took all of about ten seconds to trigger the shift back to human, and he waited with a somewhat amused smile.  Once he was sure Fax was alright, he'd have to coax the other shifter down from his perch.

No pun intended, of course.

[Kaylee Miller]

Fairfax was relieved: Mr. Leone was speaking to him, at least, and apparently he could do something to help out with this minor dilemma. He had no doubt that he'd have to figure out how to control this shifting nonsense himself, eventually, but for now he was quite happy to let Ash give him a few pointers.

He was a little puzzled when the Triste appeared to be reaching for him...and then he was on his hands and knees. It was an awfully odd sensation, switching from feeling as though he were standing to crawling in no time flat, and although he hadn't even moved, he lost his balance and flumped to the ground with a small yelp.

Fax stumbled to his feet quickly, a bit disoriented from abandoning his feline side so abruptly. "Oh, thank you, thank you, Mr. Leone...I...must have...barely remember..."

Abandoning his feline side? Perhaps not. With a sense of deja vu, he Smelled something, and jerked his head up to stare up at the fire escape, frowing slightly. He did not lose control again, fortunately. He merely peered confusedly. It...resembled the saxophonist. Only he was wearing something white, it appeared.

[Ash Leone]

"You're welcome, Mr. Whitley," he returned, apparently amused by this point.  The best part was to come, though.  "Why don't you introduce me to your friend?"

Friend, ha!  John heard that, and he glared down at the two men.  They seemed to be enjoying this more than he was, and he flipped them both the bird as a result.  "Friends don't try to eat each other!" he called out, not yet willing to move.  Not until he was sure that the crazy cat wasn't going to attack him again.

"I actually have to agree with him.  Trying to eat him was rather rude," Ash returned.  This was obviously one of his better moods.  Considering he was going to fix it all, it didn't bother him to get a little entertainment out of it.  "Apologies may be in order," he added in a whisper to Fairfax. 

[Kaylee Miller]

Fairfax looked between Mr. Leone and the saxophonist, horrified. EAT HIM???

Fax was by nature a gentle, easygoing individual, granted only if things were going smoothly, but he was easily mortified, and easily distressed-- and these were definitely drastic circumstances. "I honestly...I didn't...hadn't the slightest clue...!" he sputtered hopelessly, looking to the man on the fire escape for confirmation. "Miss Saigon! There was Miss Saigon! You played it, I loved it! We were getting along famously, weren't we?! You know I would never have an intention of...wanting to..."

He inhaled deeply, then turned back to Ash, slightly bemused. "Do you smell that? God that's good."

[Ash Leone]

'Getting along famously'?  If that's what that kid wanted to call 'running for your life'.  That wasn't John's usual definition.  "Yes, I played it, and then you blurted something about duck and started acting like a social reject!  You chased me, and tried to eat me.  I have the teeth marks to prove it!"

John was a little upset.  Did it show?  Of course, he had good reason to.  Now that the fear had evaporated, he could feel angry and defensive.  Before, it'd just been fear. 

"And there you go again!" he snapped, catching something about a good smell.  That's how Fairfax had been acting before!  He wasn't coming down.  Nope.  They could go get Nikos, and THEN he'd come down.

Ash, on the other hand, found the whole situation rather amusing.  Obviously, Fairfax had no idea what he was doing, or that it was the man up on the fire escape that smelled 'so good', but that didn't seem to be stopping the wounded shifter from being angry about it.  Ash was holding to his original advice on the subject.

"Fairfax, that smell is our friend up on the fire escape.  He happens to be a swan, from the looks of things, and not only did you offend him by calling him a 'duck', but trying to eat someone is usually considered to be a faux pas.  Focus on something other than the smell, and when you apologize, please promise him you won't try to eat him again."

Ash wasn't just going to trust Fairfax not to shift and try again if he lost control, but he was going to try to get Fairfax to keep control on his own.  He sucked all the energy he could from the boy's elemental aura, though.  No shifting and surprising anyone.

[Kaylee Miller]

Teeth marks... TEETH marks??? He turned and stared up at the saxophonist again. Good God, he did seem to be bleeding! Was it possible, then...? No, no, I don’t even care for the sight of blood...

Mr. Leone started speaking again, and Fairfax turned to him, all ears. Ash seemed to be the only one with sense in this bloody crazy city, it sometimes seemed to him. He was certainly making the most sense out of this particular situation. As he listened, though, horror manifested rapidly. He clapped his hands over his mouth, looking from Ash to John and back again.

"Bloody hell," he squeaked. "I. Had. NO. Idea." He turned his attention to the saxophonist, guilt washing over him (and effectively drowning the enticing smell for a moment). "I'm terribly sorry! I...I say, you're a swan, then? A shifter swan? To think such a thing exists...!" Bugger it, this attempt at conversation was not helping. It seemed incongruous, but he was beginning to feel as frightened as the poor musician up on his platform-- he hated hurting others, after all, it was something he did NOT make a habit of doing...and here he'd tried EATING someone. What if this does become a habit...? He felt a little queasy.

He darted a miserable glance at Ash, trying to recall all of his suggestions, thankful that someone like him was here right now. Focus on something other than the Smell? Well, it isn’t bothering me now. And naturally, as soon as he said that, it came flooding back into his senses.

“Oh, no...no,” he moaned anxiously, putting his hands over his mouth again. He didn’t like this, he didn’t like this, don’t want to eat the poor swa-- saxophonist, bad, bad, stupid, stupid shifting, he didn’t ask for this...focus, Fax... He crept closer to Mr. Leone, ducking his head, frantically lacing his fingers together in front of his nostrils. “I...should I just...go?” he queried piteously.

He hadn’t realized that he had already found a distraction, a comfortable, feline distraction, despite the fact that he was trying to push the cat part of himself far, far away. Ash was much closer than John was, at the moment, and he smelled familiar, even through the hands that masked Fairfax’s face. He was hardly aware of it, but that was why, when he asked his question, he nervously bumped his head to the other man’s shoulder.