18 Apocalypse Avenue, Thursday afternoon
Kerrigan
This was Harriet Jones' home. Whether she shared it with anyone else was inconsequential, really. Kerrigan had been lying in wait for a while now, lacking interest in a confrontation with any of Harriet's roommates.
Now, though-- there was a redhead draped across a chair on the porch, her entire form relaxed, one leg up on a table and her arms spread liberally over the sides. She was waiting. She was almost done waiting.
Two more loose ends. This was number one.
Harriet
Harriet wasn't really paying attention, and when she saw the long legged and limber form draped over the porch, she assumed it must be someone looking for Barney. For good or for evil wasn't really her concern.
As she walked up the steps, she really looked and froze, eyes going wide. "Good lord."
Kerrigan
"Afternoon, Prime Minister Jones," she greeted, her weight slipping that little edge sideways that made her seem more obvious, somehow. "I figured we should talk."
Harriet
"Vice Principal Jones," she corrected automatically. "And I suspect we should."
Harriet slowly made her way up onto the porch but she didn't sit. She should be pleased to see Kerrigan looking like her old self, but she wasn't. The instincts that had seen her through years as a back bencher and her time at Number Ten, the instincts that had made her give the order to shoot down the Sycorax, were telling her this was unlikely to be good. "I didn't expect to see you like this."
Kerrigan
"I've been doing some thinking," Kerrigan replied, idly shifting again. The illusion had its own comforts, but she was itching to break out of it. It wouldn't be long, now. "But eventually you get tired of that. So I'm going to take an express trip home."
Harriet
Harriet's sideways step to place herself between Kerrigan and the stairs was entirely unconscious. "I see," she said calmly. "When did you decide this?"
Kerrigan
She slanted her head. "Yesterday," Kerrigan spoke, and her voice seemed almost idle in its drawl. "I had an interesting chat with a couple've people who seem to have their own ideas as to my future."
Harriet
"I see," she said again.
"It's like someone's sending a constant signal into my mind, except I can't tell what it is."
Iron control kept anything from leaking out, kept her expression smooth and neutral. "Kerriga-- Sarah. No one can tell you what to do with your future. No one can force you to leave."
Kerrigan
She showed no reaction at the name; she didn't respond directly to Harriet's remark. "How's your chess game, Prime Minister?" Kerrigan asked, shifting her eyes away to stare at the sky. Blue. Who'd have thought.
Harriet
Harriet didn't take her eyes off Kerrigan, but she tensed. "It's been years since I've played."
Kerrigan
"I was always horrible at it," Kerrigan continued, "Too little action, you know? But I know the rules. Although I bet you know them better than I do."
Harriet
Harriet's only response was to raise her chin, not sure Kerrigan was even talking to her. Not sure it was even Kerrigan anymore.
Kerrigan
She regarded Harriet coolly, and her next words were laced with sorrow, almost with pity. "My friend Michael Liberty liked to bring up the promotion rule," Kerrigan said, "Any clue on that one?"
Harriet
Her mouth tightened. The pawn could become any one of four dominant pieces, but there was only one she could possibly be talking about.
"Pawn to Queen," Harriet said flatly. She should move, get out of the way, stop blocking the stairs.
She didn't.
Kerrigan
Kerrigan slid up out of her seat, all long limbs and sharp green eyes, and smiled. "It's funny, isn't it?" she asked, rhetorically, stepping closer, "You never hear of it happening the other way around, do you, Prime Minister?"
Harriet
There were sharks in that smile, but Harriet held her ground. "It happens, even if you never hear about it. Sarah, listen to me. Just stop and listen. It's not too late, whatever you're going to do, it's not too late," she said earnestly, reaching out a hand that stopped just shy of touch. "We can stop it."
Kerrigan
"But why should I do that?" she asked, and now the pity was tangible, drenching every word. "I like what I am. This is wonderful-- it envelops me. It makes me whole."
The end of subterfuge, the end of ambiguity, and she was proud.
Harriet
"Because this is not you. It's someone else entirely," she snapped. "They called and you've come to heel like a dog." There was contempt in her voice she didn't feel, covering her desperate, helpless fear. "The Sarah Kerrigan I know would never give in. She'd fight."
Kerrigan
"I know you're scared," she said simply, and took that one last step closer. "The Swarm doesn't deal out a great deal of names," Kerrigan continued, was firm, stern and commanding, "But I have one. I have my name. And I won't be alone. I won't be abandoned."
Harriet
"You weren't alone. You weren't abandoned. You never would have been," her voice cracked, but she dragged control back from somewhere, made it strong again, "and I am not moving."
Kerrigan
"You have no idea how this feels," she whispered, and her neck bent forward, brushing her face past Harriet's. "They call me the Queen of Blades." She didn't sound threatening, nor sorrowful, nor sharklike. It was the simplest of statements.
And the next. "I won't kill you." There was no need.
Harriet
Harriet didn't flinch, didn't pull away. Death wasn't what she was afraid of; what she was afraid of had already happened.
"I won't let you leave." Her voice was lower than a whisper, barely louder than thought. "I will find a way to stop you."
Kerrigan
She pressed a peck to Harriet's cheek. "Good night, sweet queen," the Queen of Blades spoke, and struck her blow with a surgeon's precision.
Harriet
She crumpled to the ground, small and grey and forgotten, welcoming the blackness as if it were a sanctuary.
Kerrigan
A single moment later, Kerrigan lifted Harriet's body up into her arms. Small, mottled spots ran down her arms, transforming her skin once again, turning red and green for an instant before fading oncemore: she had only one more place to be.
But this human was one of hers, and no Zerg voice could stop her from lowering Harriet gently onto the chair. Then she stepped back.
There was a ripple in the air, and then her form faded as if it had never been there at all.
[ooc: pre-played with the fantastic on_her_korhal, NFB and NFI, OOC welcome.]