Men in Black: Aftermath



Warning: This story is UNFINISHED. I started writing it about a year after I saw the movie in the theater, but abandoned it for many reasons, one being that I was in college and had little time to work on it, and another being that I had found out that a movie sequel was in the works and Agent Kay would be brought back in it. I lost all inspiration I once had, as you will find out.

You'll also hate me, because I leave the story at a cliffhanger. C'est la vie.

jacque




In the far reaches of the galaxy, they heard it. The screams of anger, the low rumbling of a thousand angry, scurrying beings. A great force had just stubbed its toe on the proverbial coffee table called Earth, and was now preparing to kick it back.

Well, at least the small group of Bugs in the tiny spaceship headed towards Earth thought they were a great force, and to Earth, they were! They thought of themselves as a great energy tornado, not unlike the one from the Fifth Year of the Grenopoid (to us here on Earth, that's April), where one destroyed the lower half of Meknid City on their home planet, Sulfur 15. It was the half no one liked anyway, so everyone considered it to be a blessing. They wanted to take out their frustrations on the human population, not only because they had a reason, but because it was *fun*.

"Parent?" said the smallest one, the one with the eyes large enough to swallow supernovas. "When will we see my brother?" There were three Bugs total in the ship, cramped pincer to feeler in a ship made only for one being, and the two older ones tried their best to ignore him. Yet, just as he had for the last few hours, he kept right on talking. "Did he make our people the proud mighty spine-eaters of the universe?" The child asked innocently. "Did he recover the galaxy and eat the soft meat of--"

"SHUT UP!"

The child shrank back with a soft clattering of exoskeleton and sulked. He was usually considered amusing, at least by his parents, but apparently the cuteness had run it's course.

Grynor, the eldor, praced his pincer on the child's back and growled quietly, "Perhaps we should discuss this." He looked ot Ragrok, who was acting as pilot, mandibles working furiosly after his outburst. He hadn't said a thing to his son after the banishing, he just picked up and ran. He had been quiet since takeoff, which made his outburst that much more startling.

"Little One," the elder began, mustering up the kindest voice he could. He had a hard time beginning--the child loved his brother dearly and the elder kenw the anger of a young Bug unleashed.

Ragrok spun around, almost crushing the instrument panel with his monstrous claw. "He's _dead_. Edgar is _dead_," he said, speaking deliberately slow and harsh. he didn't find the child to be horribly bright. "_We_, all of us, are going to find those... those pus bags,drink their blood and squeeze them like delicate spider-fish until their eyes pop out. _We will be avenged_."

The elder could feel Ragrok's rancid breath spill over him like acid rain. The child huddeled near him in fear. They both know that provoking Ragrok would be inviting danger.

After a time, the child seemed to have come to a conclusion after letting his mind process the information. He touched Ragrok on the shoulder, and his father spun around and growled, "what?" He was going to yell at him for disturbing him, but he halted when he saw the look in the child's huge, puppy-dog eyes. With a click of his claws, he asked in a very low, frightening tone, even to an old battle-axe like Ragrok.

"Who killed him?"



--- The wind. It swallowed him up and he felt safe and comfortable inside of it.

Speed. The horse he rode carried him swiftly across the beach, kicking up sand behind him. He leaned forward into the wind, over the horse's back, his hands passing over it's neck, caressing it. He could feel the powerful muscles stretch and contract beneath him, reach forward into the unknown.

Freedom. Even enveloped as he was in the wind, seated though he was on this swift-footed animal, he felt free.

It was a new feeling for him. He had been confined for thirty years in darkness, and now he devoured the light, spent all his time beneath a cloudless sky, and a blanket of stars.

He saw a figure off in the distance, and he whispered to the horse to slow. At a trot, he slid off the animal and easily sauntered down to the shore, still marvelling after three months how in shape his body was even though it had spent three decades in a coma.

He shook his head. It didn't matter--he was happy and _free_. He wasn't sure why that word felt so right to him, but it did. He said it aloud, just to taste it. "Free." He chuckled to himself and tested the water with his toes. The water felt warm, and he walked into the surf, feeling like a newborn on it's first trip to the beach.

He took it all in. THe salt in the air, the sun on his bare back and shoulders, the feel of the sand between his toes and under his feet. He heard the person he had seen earlier walk up behind him, slide her soft arms around his waist, and put her face against his back.

She said, "I love you, Kevin."

He smiled softly.

Free.

---

it was early morning when Kevin awoke. He could smell Elizabeth on the sheets beside him, which he knew had been vacated some time before. The sun was just coming up and the first rays were filtering in through the window. He rolled off the bed, stretched, and took a shower, and then got dressed in jeans, a light brown cotton shirt, and boots. As he looked in the mirror, he ran his hand over his cheek. "Wonder if I should grow a beard," he mused aloud.

He wandered through the house, past the living room and kitchen, to Elizabeth's studio, wher eshe wrote and painted. It always smelled of linseed oil and turpentine, and the smells always welcomed him. Few people appreciate the smell of oil paint, save for artists and art lovers.

Elizabeth was standing in front of an immense canvas, hand on her hip, scrutinizing it, looking for flaws or places that needed improvement. She was dressed in her painting clothes--old jeans, a grey tank top, and a blue button up workshirt, unbuttoned and hanging open. Her feet were bare and covered with little splotches of paint, as was the rest of her. She didn't hear him come in, and he didn't disturb her.

The canvas was huge, measuring about eight feet high and nearly twenty feet long. She had applied liberal amounts of blues and greens and rich purples in long sweeps and gestures. It was almost as if the paint were harmonizing and creating a visual symphony. Yet, it had a quality to it that seemed like a somber, almost quiet sadness. The colors were not bright but slightly muted, and even though there was no black anywhere on the canvas (Elizabeth avoided using black as much as possible because she said it made a painting look flat) it gave the impression of darkness in light. It was hard to explain. Kevin studied it in awe.

As she stood in front of this canvas, pondering, she began gesturing with her arm as she planned out her next move. He studied the curve of her upraised arm, and her fingers as she touched them to the canvas, blended color, and swept her hand through the paint, over her head, as if she were opening a portal in the canvas, instead of fingerpainting. He almost belived that she could step into that place she had captured and become one with it.

"It's beautiful," he said quietly.

She turned around and said, still looking at it out of the corner of her eye, "It's hardly begun. It needs a *lot* of work. I don't know if I even *like* it or not." She dropped her paintbrush in a can of turpentine and stepped back from the canvas. She still hadn't looked at him. He loved the way she got lost in her art. She seemed so driven, full of magic.

Instinctively, he reached out and touched her arm. He could never get enough of the feel of her skin, the warmth of another human body close to his. he wanted to step inside that painting wiht her and be forever part of that raw beauty and emotion, forever part of her, forever free.

They held each oter around their waistas and studied the painting. Elizabeth frowned as Kevin smiled.

"That spot--" they both said in unison, pointing at the same area. They glanced at each other and Kevin felt again the kinship they had as teenagers.

She smirked. "That spot right there needs work. It's too bright."

"I sort of liked that spot. I thought it gave the painting character. All of these dark colors and that one bright splash of blue up there. It's like one spot of happiness in a world of exsquisite (sp?) despair and beauty."

She cocked her head to the side a little, thinking about what he had said. She gestured with her hand in the air a little, thring to imagine in her mind how to integrate the bright splash of color.

"I suppose if I... hmmm."

Deep in thought, she hardly noticed Kevin putting his arms around her until he kissed her on the back of the neck, his stubbly chin brushing lightly against her skin.

"Hey there, Slick. That tickles." She turned around to face him. She studied his face, so much older than when she last saw it: crows feet around his eyes and tough, weathered skin. She still couldn't believe that he was there, beside her, after so long. She wasn't stupid enough to believe the hokey story the government gave her about Kevin being in a 30 year coma, but he didn't seem to remember anything.

It was strange to have someone around after being alone so long, but she also enjoyed it. She was pleasantly suprised to find that she still loved him after all this time, even though she had gotten over him long ago when he had suddenly disappeared from her life.

She put her arms around his waist and pulled him near, close enough to smell him. She kissed him, and they stood for a while, together, exploring each other as if it were the first time--

CRASH!

Kevin reacted to the loud noise by seizing Elizabeth by the upper arms and tossing her to the floor. As he instinctively shielded her with his body, he reached for--something--in a breast pocked of a jacket that wasn't there, and coming up empty, he seized a piece of lumber for the stretcher to a canvas. He wielded it and, his whole body tense, waited for--what? he thought.

Athena, Elizabeth's grey tiger cat, looked up from behind a toppled paint can. She was drenched in blue pain. The cat started to meow pitifully.

Elizabeth looked up at Kevin, who was dazedly getting up from the floor. "Are you all right? It was just Theeny. She does this all the time." Athena chirped sadly. "You are such a silly cat."

"I don't know what happened. I just reacted..." He rubbed his forehead and offered a hand to her. "Are you okay?" She stood up. "I'm sorry. I guess I just got carried away."

"That's all right. Just don't let it happen again," she said with a smirk. She picked up her blue cat and dumped her in the industrial size studio sink.

"I'm gonna go take Jake out for a ride." He hoped some fresh air would clear his head. She kissed him on the nose and smiled.

"Have a good ride."

He turned to go.

"Kevin."

He looked back over his shoulder.

"I love you."

"Yeah. I love you, too."

---
Zed sat at his desk, staring at the expense reports for the last galactic year. "Request for new sunglasses, Agent J. Request for new dress shirts, Agent J. Request for black leather boots, Agent L."

He shook his head. Next they'd be asking for little colored sprinkles on their donuts.

There was a beep fromt he bank of monitors next to his desk and he turned to them. A middle aged woman with short dark hair wearing the MiB uniform stood with a worried look on her face. She was standing on the corner of a street in the suburbs.

"Agent H, report."

"Sir, we have bugs." She held up the small device that had a small glowing green dot on it. She sighed.

He almost muttered somehting under his breath, but stopped himself. "How many?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. I think we have--"

The screen went blank.

Carmly, he turned back to his desk and pressed the intercom button. "Zoe, page Agent H."

"No problem, Zeddy." Zoe was the nutty secretary that has had a crush on Zed since 1975. Every time they're in the same room together, Zed sweats and Zoe grins from ear to ear.

He rolled his eyes.

"Zed, she's not responding. She may not have her comm-link on."

No, he thought, the bugs found her.

"Thanks, Zoe."

"Anytime, Zeddy."

He sighed and stared at the expense report again, then turned back to the monitors. "Agent J, Agent L."

A monitor came to life. The two agents sat lazily in the LTD, eating hot dogs and listening to the new stereo Jay had installed. The music was loud enough to make the indestructable glass walls of Zed's office vibrate. One press of a button on his desk and the music in the car ceased. Jay jumped, almost getting mustard on his new white shirt.

"Agent J, Agent L, report."

"Oh, hey Zed," smiled Jay, "just having a little breakfast."

"That music was loud enough to make the whole city aware of your presence. As MiB agents, no one must know you exist!"

"In this city, everyone has loud music screamin from their cars. It's as inconspicuous as you can get."

Zed sighed. "All right, kids, this is the news you all come to dread from me."

Jay about said something, but the look on Elle's face stopped him.

"We have bugs."

"You didn't just say what I thought you said, did ya, Zed? Bug*ssss*? Like, more than one bug? Like, how many bugs are we talkin about here?"

"We're not sure yet." Zed's voice sounded troubled, almost frightened. "But they've already killed a MiB agent."

Jay and Elle exchanged looks, and found that breakfast just wasn't as appetizing anymore.

---

Athena hated water, therefore her bath was a nightmare. She still had her claws, for she was an outdoor cat and Elizabeth thought it was cruel to declaw an animal, anyway. She expertly maneuverred around the cat's talons as any good cat owner can do and got most of the paint off of her.

"Silly little cat. Don't you know paint is bad for you?" She said, putting her head, which was light blue where her fur was normally white, back underneath the tap. Athena dug her nails into Elizabeth's arm and hissed.

"I know, I know. It's almost over. Are'nt you glad it was water based paint? Imagine turpentine... yuck."

"Merowr." Hiss.

A shadow fell over the sink from behind.

"Back from your ride already?"

No one answered. Athena growled.

Hiss.

"Oh, come on Ath--"

The cat broke out of her grasp and tore across the room, drenching Elizabeth and everything near her She was about to chase the ungrateful animal when she realized who--better yet, WHAT-- had blocked the light from her big picture window.

It was so huge, her first thought was, "how in the hell did it get in here? Her second thought, more useful, was RUN.

Part 2

Cloak Url Tool | Find a Realtor | Blinds | Necklace | Buying Life Insurance