Agent Sands Fans

agentsands @ 2012-04-15T21:28:00

2012-04-16T02:28:42Z

agentsands @ 2012-01-22T19:36:00

2012-01-23T01:36:27Z

Over my livejournal hiatus, I've been experimenting with sony vegas. None of these videos should be taken too seriously, but it's always nice to show the fandom a little bit of love.

Perfection (1/1)

2011-12-18T15:33:27Z

Merry Christmas to all OUATIM fans!

Title: Perfection
Summary: Sands is on the hunt for the perfect puerco pibil.
Disclaimer: After all this time, still not mine, but Robert Rodriguez's.
Words: 1262

(Perfection)

agentsands @ 2011-09-27T20:49:00

2011-09-28T01:49:36Z

Josh Holloway, Johnny Depp, Antonio Banderas, Mads Mikkelsen, Hugh Jackman, Emmy Rossum, Joss Stone, and Kellan Lutz

TEASERS:

HERE @ sexiestdrummer

agentsands @ 2011-07-13T23:41:00

2011-07-14T04:41:23Z

TEASERS:

HERE @ sexiestdrummer

agentsands @ 2011-07-03T23:46:00

2011-07-04T04:46:04Z

~~Johnny Depp in: The Brave, Sweeney Todd,~~ Once Upon a Time in Mexico, and a Donnie Brasco conference.
Desperado, Chris Evans, Josh Holloway [Candid and as Sawyer], Ryan Phillippe in The Lincoln Lawyer, Joss Stone, Jared Leto in Lord of War, and Olivia Wilde

TEASERS:

HERE @ sexiestdrummer

fic: you just burn

2011-05-30T18:47:53Z

Title/Prompt: you just burn
Pairing/Characters: Sheldon Jeffrey Sands/Elektra Natchios (original pairing)
Rating: R
Word count: 728
Takes place: Post-movie and after the events of my insane, long-ass fic; this is a preview of the sequel, maybe, kinda.
Notes: Part of the Darkship Prompt Meme

( She knows exactly how it felt to relive something like that over and over, never getting free of it, trapped in what couldn't be undone. )

agentsands @ 2011-04-02T14:33:00

2011-04-02T19:33:32Z

TEASERS:

HERE @ sexiestdrummer

Once Upon a Time in Mexico - Ajedrez/Sands - ConQuest

2011-03-07T17:53:10Z

Medium: movie
Fandom: Once Upon a Time in Mexico
Subject: Ajedrez/Sands
Title: CON-QUEST
Warnings: sex, violence and vulgarity

Notes: Duo mix! 10 songs for Ajedrez and 10 songs for Sands. More of an excuse to experiment with paint-shop than with fanmixing. 1 hour and 12 minutes long, uploaded in two separate zip files(one for AJ- Con- and one for Sands- Quest).

DOWNLOAD LINK HERE

agentsands @ 2011-02-08T00:16:00

2011-02-08T06:16:26Z

Enrique Iglesias, Johnny Depp, Marco Leonardi, OUATIM
TEASERS:

HERE @ sexiestdrummer

agentsands @ 2010-10-16T13:44:00

2010-10-16T18:44:40Z

Medium: Movie
Fandom: Once Upon a Time in Mexico
Subject: El Mariachi/Sands
Title: Trouble is a Friend: An El/Sands Fanmix
Warnings: Mature Language. Sexual Themes. Violent tones.
Notes: 12 songs (48 min 22 sec) Contains diverse genres from Lenka to My Chemical Romance to The Avalanches. (back art not made by me)

DOWNLOAD LINK HERE

agentsands @ 2010-09-12T16:17:00

2010-09-12T21:18:11Z

Antonio Banderas(in OUATIM, and The White River Kid), Sophia Bush, Johnny Depp (in OUATIM, Ninth Gate, Secret Window, and 21JS), Eva Mendes, Salma Hayek, OUATIM Fan Art, Marco Leonardi (in Like Water for Chocolate, Enrique Iglesias
TEASERS:

HERE @ sexiestdrummer

agentsands @ 2010-08-24T16:14:00

2010-08-24T21:14:23Z

Title: Sands’s List of Things to Do
Category: Once Upon a Time in Mexico
Words: 932
Genre(s): Humor/General
Rating: M
Summary: Sands wakes up in the middle of the night and goes through his immediate list of things to do. Fluffy drabble of slash. El/Sands.
Author’s Notes: I’ve been looking through old fanfics in the OUATIM community for any gems I over looked. I’m just now realizing that Johnny fandoms tend to be filled with a lot of (I hate being insulting but I’ll use the word anyway) trash. Also, that fan fiction(dot)net is apparently a joke among the fanfic community. I wasn’t aware of that… Huh. Kind of makes me rethink using it. It’s convenient though so I’ll stick with it. I was inspired to write this because I wanted to add some not-awful work back into the fandom and I was making graphics for OUATIM. It’s just a little drabble because I just can’t seem to write anything longer for El/Sands.
HERE @ sexiestdrummer

First Impressions

2010-04-20T23:50:28Z

Title: First Impressions
Category: Once Upon a Time in Mexico
Words: 2,542
Genre(s): Friendship/General
Rating: T
Summary: Lorenzo, Fideo, and Sands think back on their first impressions on El Mariachi. One-shot. Implied slash of Sands/El. Based off of the literary style of Flowers on the Grass.
Author’s Notes: I got this idea after reading a book called Flowers on the Grass by Monica Dickens. It’s a bunch of different character’s view points about one main character. The set-up always caught my eye and I loved watching the conflicting facts come together along with the opinion of all these side characters. I just now picked up the book again and began reading it and thought I might experiment with the set-up with fan fiction. My main boy is El Mariachi and Lorenzo, Fideo, and Sands are all recalling him in their eyes.
HERE @ sexiestdrummer

A fanfic prompt?

2010-04-17T02:36:34Z

Any fandom
Any pairing
Cross posted EVERYWHERE

Follow the fake cut for the prompt.

agentsands @ 2010-04-05T19:22:00

2010-04-06T00:23:50Z

TEASERS:

HERE @ sexiestdrummer

Who Does That?

2010-03-20T05:04:52Z

Title: Who Does That?
Rating: T (for language)
Characters: El and Sands
Summary: “I don’t even want to have this conversation with you,” Sands rolled away from him so his back was the only thing El saw. “Why not?” “Because you’re going to get distracted half-way through, due to you’re A.D.H.D...." NOT SLASH ONESHOT.

HERE @ fanfiction.net

agentsands @ 2010-02-23T19:12:00

2010-02-24T01:13:20Z

Antonio Banderas, Chris Evans, Eva Mendes, Johnny Depp, Jude Law, Sophis Bush, Zac Efron, Selena Gomez, Johnny/Eva Manip icons
TEASERS:

HERE @ sexiestdrummer

The Tragedies of Sands and El

2010-02-15T00:26:36Z

Title: The Tragedies of Sands and El
Rating: R
Pairing: None
Keywords: El&Sands, Shakespeare, OUATIM, King Lear, Mc Donalds
Summary: El and Sands talk in Mc Donalds about everybody’s favorite literary staple; Shakespeare.
Disclaimer: I do not own OUATIM.
Authors Notes: I read King Lear and Gloucester hit close to home for me. Decided to write this.
HERE @ sexiestdrummer

agentsands @ 2010-01-24T18:46:00

2010-01-24T23:47:03Z

Sorry for the double-post, but I am FINALLY done this epic fic, so to celebrate I offer a fanmix as well as fic:

Title: "Stuck In The Middle With You"
Fandom: Marvel comicverse/Once Upon a Time in Mexico crossover
Pairing: Elektra Natchios/Sheldon Jeffrey Sands
Rating: R/MA/18+
Disclaimer: The characters are not mine, I don't own them and I'm just borrowing them for a little non-profit fun.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11

(Sorry it's at FF.net. >____> You do what you gotta do.) Click the image for the fanmix (complete with uploads):

agentsands @ 2010-01-20T00:17:00

2010-01-20T05:17:05Z

I haven't updated this in ages, but just in case anyone's still interested. ;) Sorry to link to FF.net, but I'm desperate.

Title: "Stuck In The Middle With You"
Fandom: Marvel comicverse/Once Upon a Time in Mexico crossover
Pairing: Elektra Natchios/Sheldon Jeffrey Sands
Rating: R for...everything
Disclaimer: The characters are not mine, I don't own them and I'm just borrowing them for a little non-profit fun.

Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten <-- recently updated

One more chapter to go! *insert dramatic chipmunk*

FIC: Wilderness of Mirrors - Chapter 5/?

2009-11-27T18:31:37Z

Damn, he missed driving.

Sitting in the back of the cab, still feeling queasy, he remembered speeding down the open road with his favorite tunes cranked up on the stereo with nostalgia and some bitterness.

Never again.

It normally took about fifteen minutes to get to Cam’s house from his apartment, but at ten o’clock at night it seemed like it took no time at all. Granted, time not only flies when you’re having fun, but also when you’re completely whacked out as well.

The minute the cabbie pulled up, Sands told him to stay put and got out of the cab.

Walking up to the door, Sands knocked and kept knocking until someone answered.

As it turned out, Cam’s wife was the one to get the door and he was inside before she even had a chance to express her surprise at his sudden appearance.

“Jeffrey!”

“Trick or treat, Megan.”

“With you it’s always trick.”

In no mood for any more banter, Sands jumped straight to the point. “I’m here to see Cam.”

“I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Then you’re not psychic. Too bad; I hear Cleo made a killing before early retirement. Where’s Eric?”

He could feel the displeasure radiating off her before she said a single word. When she did answer, her tone certainly didn’t contradict his feeling. “He’s probably in his office. Stay here and I’ll get him.”

“On your front porch? Really. I remembered you as being a far more gracious host.”

Sands didn’t bother removing his coat as he pushed himself inside the house. Having been there before, he didn’t have too much trouble as he walked into the living room, the cane prodding the area in front of him as he found his way in. He briefly wondered if Megan already knew he was blind, if she’d just failed to notice the telltale cane and glasses, or if she’d just chosen to ignore it all together. He and Megan never had meshed well together, the reason for which should be no great mystery to anyone.

He still felt like something the cat dragged in, and he was starting to think that maybe he was coming down with something.

Finding the sofa, he retracted his cane and put it away as he sat down.

Cam came into the room a minute later, and Sands noted that by the sound of it, Megan hadn’t followed.

“God damn it! I told you I’ve had enough. Why can’t you just leave me out of it from here on in?” Cam asked, not bothering to sit down.

Taking note of the fact that Cam didn’t call him Jeff like he normally did, Sands grinned devilishly. “Well, I have a question for you.”

“Yeah?”

“This didn’t pop into my brain until I got you on the horn, and on the ride over here it had time to knock around my noggin for a bit. You’re so anxious to fold and I ask myself… what would make Cam put his tail between his legs and run like the devil was after him? Do you know what I came up with?” Sands asked. He didn’t wait for a reply before answering the question himself. “Getting his hands dirty.”

“You don’t think what I did in Mexico qualifies?”

“Poor Eric Cameron; a spy who can’t stand any dirt underneath his perfectly manicured fingernails. Or maybe,” Sands held up a finger as if inspiration had struck. “Maybe, the devil really is after him.”

“I thought that was you,” Cam retorted before sighing. “If you’re not aware, its ten o’clock at night and…”

“…I wasn’t invited. Yup, I’m well aware of both facts, Count Chocula.”

“If you have nothing interesting to say, I think you know where the door is.”

Well, if Cam wanted to get right to the point he could certainly oblige. Sands asked coldly, “Did you know Ava was going to die tonight?”

There was a long, heavy silence. Sands brushed his hand along the arm of the couch, his finger catching a bit of ripped upholstery. He rubbed a small bit of the threadbare fabric between his fingers, remembering Cam’s modest furnishings from his last visit.

For the job they did, they didn’t get much in return.

“What?” Cam managed to whisper, clearly shocked by Sands’ news, and like an electrical jolt to the system Sands knew what had been bouncing around in Eric Cameron’s mind.

Too much risky business.

With Cam’s help in Mexico, Sands had forgotten one important and key fact about Eric Cameron.

Cam was a tree; rooted to the ground, stable, no big gambles, no risks. Cam only went so far out of his “safety zone” before he reeled himself back in, and that was exactly what he was doing now.

But, Sands couldn’t help but wonder, what had triggered it?

“She’s dead,” Sands repeated without emotion, keeping Cam blind to his mini-epiphany. If Cam was going to bail out of the game, the least he could do was make him feel like shit about it.

Besides, guilt was the easiest way to get him back in the game. Perhaps the one and only way.

“My God… How?” Cam asked, collapsing in the chair next to him, his reaction so delayed that it made Sands think Cam was so wound up the news hadn’t even registered the first time he said it.

Sands shrugged. “For some reason, she had a hard time telling me. Must have had something to do with her being dead.” He stood up and again found his head swimming and his stomach doing flips. He extended his cane, leaning on it heavily at first, more for balance than anything, and met Cam on the other side of the room.

He waited until he stood right in front of Cam before continuing. “She was quite the gifted character actress, but in the end I suspect she played one too many parts.”

Sands leaned in towards Cam. Grasping the arms of the chair Cam was sitting in he effectively pinned Cam to his seat, making it impossible for him to turn away. “So, what character are you playing?”

There was a sharp intake of breath. “Depends on which one you’re playing.”

“Oh, but you can learn quickly.” Sands smiled wickedly. “Have you figured it out yet?”

“Figured out what?”

Sands clucked his tongue in mock dismay. “Have you figured out what the job is?”

“No.”

“A shift in power has occurred. One that I don’t fancy living with. It’s time for power to shift back to me. They won’t ruin my life,” Sands answered quietly, but with a force to the words that left no doubt that he meant it. “They won’t ruin me.”

“Like you ruined Cecelia?” Cam asked quietly.

Sands stood upright immediately, surprised by Cam’s sudden bluntness and change in topic. It must have shown in his face – damn it all – because Cam seemed to scoff at his reaction.

“What? You thought I’d never bring it up? You ruined her, and then you got rid of her. Isn’t that how it went down?”

“What could you possible know about it?” Sands asked, real anger in his tone. This was not the topic he wanted to discuss. This was not what he came here for. He swiftly reined his emotions in. “Did Megan plant this seed? I know how buddy-buddy she used to be with Cecelia.”

“Leave Megan out of this. It’s what you should have done with Cecelia. But then, perhaps you were just trying to force a… shift of power.”

Sands frowned, at the situation as much as at Cam’s words. Every path he explored led back to her, like some endless maze that always ended back at the beginning.

And Cam had managed to best him in this duel of dialogue. He was not on his game tonight.

He’d not been on his game in a long time, if he got right down to it.

Sands stood upright again, distracted by his thoughts. Cam shifted in his seat, taking a deep breath as he reclaimed his personal space.

Turning his back to Cam, Sands found his way to the front door. He put his hand on the knob, but didn’t open the door, instead turning back to Cam.

“I’ll do whatever it takes. You know that.” Sands smiled grimly as he remembered the first Latin he’d ever learned… from dear old dad. “Per omnia saecula saeculorum.”

For ever and ever.

FIC: Wilderness of Mirrors - Chapter 4/?

2009-11-26T21:02:06Z

“Can I help you?” asked the young woman at the front desk. She had an energy and enthusiasm that could only exist in someone who was completely new to desk duty.

“Yes. I’m here to see Cecelia Sands.”

“OK,” she said, looking down at a monitor that must have been a decade old and pecking at the keyboard as she looked up the patient. Her index finger tapped on the side of the keyboard as she waited. “Are you a relative?” she asked as Cecelia’s information appeared on the screen.

“Yes. Sheldon Sands,” he replied.

Her finger stopped tapping. A thin, dark eyebrow quirked as her eyes moved away from the monitor to the man standing in front of her. Their ages didn’t fit. Cecelia Sands was thirty-five, and the man in front of her was sixty if he was a day. But then, it wasn’t unheard of for a woman to marry someone twice her age, especially if he was rich.

“You have an appointment?” she asked, seeing that there wasn’t anyone listed for Cecelia today.

“Oh, should I have made one?”

“We prefer it, but you came by during visiting hours so you should be fine. Identification, please?”

He opened his wallet, showing her his driver’s license. Everything looked kosher, so she nodded, typed a quick note, and sent him off to Cecelia’s room.

It was a small room, barren of any harmful objects. Safe. Sterile. No personal items adorned the room. He couldn’t imagine how dreary and monotonous it must be to live in such surroundings day in and day out. He instantly felt sorry for the poor woman.

She sat on the bed; knees folded up to her chest, her chin resting on them. There was a single window, four feet square, affording a view of another wing of the sanitarium and a small portion of the surrounding grounds. That view was marred by steel bars, preventing patients on the upper floors from “checking out early” by taking a sudden leap.

Cecelia said nothing when he entered the room, nor did she shift her gaze, which currently rested on the opposite wall. Her glazed-over eyes told him that she probably wasn’t even aware of his presence.

Cecelia’s clothing was simple and as dreary as the rest of her surroundings. They were light gray, and looked like a cross between a prison uniform and a hospital gown. Her hair was cut shorter than he remembered it; a simple bob, straight and limp. It was easier to manage that way, he supposed.

She continued to stare off into space, and he didn’t wish to rush her, so he walked over to the window to get a better view of the grounds.
As he looked out the small window, he thought of the last time he’d seen Cecelia; it was at the wedding. He would have liked to know her better – she seemed like a driven and spirited girl. It hurt to see her now, witnessing first hand what fate had in store for her all along. He wished now that he’d stayed in touch somehow… perhaps he could have prevented this.

Sighing, he turned to her. He’d never gotten along well with his son. They were like night and day. It was because of their volatile relationship that he hadn’t kept in touch with either of them. He knew nothing of his son’s life… if Cecelia and Jeff had conceived a child together, he probably wouldn’t have known that either. Jeff had completely cut himself off from his family by the time he was nineteen. It was only because of Cecelia that he’d been invited to the wedding, and Jeff had no kind words to say to him during the entire affair.

He hadn’t spoken to Jeff since. They hadn’t exchanged a telephone conversation, a holiday greeting card, or a letter. There’d not been a single item of correspondence, not until Jeff’s package a few weeks ago.

He had to admit that when he opened the letter and saw his son’s handwriting he’d felt a fleeting sense of fatherly joy. They’d never gotten along, and he’d never really liked his son, but time could change a person… Well, no point in dwelling on what he’d felt at the time, because all hopes he had were dashed within a few seconds of opening the small package. It was postmarked from Mexico, of all places. Was that where Jeff was living now? Inside was a short note, nothing more. It was odd and disjointed and hard to read. Most of all, it was disturbing. The gist of it was that Jeff was apparently in a mess of trouble – only a matter of time as far as he was concerned – and needed him to hold on to the enclosed items. Oh, and don’t open said items, either.

So he hadn’t opened the small manila envelope enclosed within the larger one. His curiosity was killing him. He had to admit he’d held that small envelope in his hands, contemplating the possibility of opening it, at least a dozen times. But he never did open it. He wasn’t sure why; if it was out of loyalty, habit, or fear of what might be inside.

He turned back to the window, and noticed approaching storm clouds.

“He’s always watching.”

Sheldon turned to see Cecelia looking at him. When their eyes met, he let out a small gasp.

“Oh!” he said, putting a hand to his chest. “You startled me. Who’s watching?” he asked, walking over to her.

“He is. He watches from outside the window. From the cameras. From the little window in the door.” She leaned towards him, a hand grasping the bottom of his sportscoat with surprising strength. Her voice lowered conspiratorially. “He even watches my dreams.”

He had the feeling that he knew who she was speaking of; his son. Jeff had not done well by her, but it was clear to him that his son was not capable of being a worthy husband to anyone. He was born without certain necessary qualities, it seemed.

“He’s not watching you, Sweetie,” he said, after a moment. He knew it was probably useless, but he said it anyway.

“He keeps them from letting me out. Always watching my door. No soul. No eyes, no soul.”

He didn’t point out that someone without eyes couldn’t watch her. “Everyone has a soul. Even my son,” he said softly. “Although sometimes even I have a hard time believing that.”

“He’s not real.”

He furrowed his brow as he saw her gaze return to the opposite wall. It was hard to follow her, yet he instinctively knew what she meant despite her babbling. In a mad way, it all made sense. His son was capable of being many people, and of putting up a thoroughly convincing front whenever he wanted. It’s what made knowing his son impossible; you could never really know a man like that. The sad truth of it was his son probably didn’t know himself either.

“You’re right,” he said at last. He could see his response startled her, because she met his eyes again.

“I am?” She blinked, nonplussed, and then slowly lowered her legs to the ground. She looked at him a bit longer, then bit her lower lip and asked quietly, “Do I know you?”

“I’m Jeff’s father. We met at your wedding.”

Her eyes hardened, the quizzical expression on her face vanishing. “You’re part of it. You’re just another pair of his eyes.” She stood. “He’s always watching!” she shouted, coming towards him. “Always watching, always watching!”

Sheldon felt the urge to back away, but stood his ground. Although she was definitely disturbed, he thought that perhaps if he didn’t get excited himself he could get through to her. “No. Jeff and I have not spoken for years. Not since the wedding. That’s why we’ve only met once before.”

Cecelia stopped, hands coming up to the sides of her face. She shook her head violently. “I can always feel him. Always. He’s in my head!” She began to sob. “Get him out!”

He frowned. “Has Jeff come to visit you?” he asked, but before he got an answer the door to the room opened and two orderlies rushed in. One held a syringe, the other moved to hold Cecelia. As the orderly with the syringe sedated Cecelia, the other one told him that his visit was over.

As he exited the room he couldn’t help but wonder what his son had done to her.

“I’m in D.C. Ava’s body is in the park. Did she work for the NSA? CIA? I thought I heard El. The person who attacked me killed Ava, but let me go. Why do that? I work for the Central Intelligence Agency. A mariachi takes Washington? Cecelia is being transferred by Sheldon Sands,” Sands mumbled. He was talking to himself quietly, not fully aware that he was speaking out loud. Too many thoughts flew through his mind at once, causing a monumental state of confusion.

None of it made sense. None of it. What event had to do with another? What was relevant and what was coincidence?
Then something came to him, and it stopped him in mid stride. Dry leaves blew across the path in front of him. A dog barked in the distance. “Vae!”

He picked up his pace.

Luckily the park wasn’t busy, and Sands made it to the taxi without passing a single person. It was for the best, because he knew he must look like something the cat dragged in. He’d rather shoot an innocent bystander than answer nosy questions right then. He needed to think.

The taxi driver was as good as his word, and was still waiting with the taxi – and the meter – running. Sands hopped inside and shut the door. A slight chill ran down his back, and he convinced himself that it was from the frosty air outside, and not from finding Ava’s dead body.

The cabbie asked where he wanted to go, and he gave the driver an address as he leaned back against the seat in exhaustion.

After leaving Cecelia’s room, Sheldon tracked down the nurse who’d helped him earlier. It wasn’t hard, as she was still in the
same place he’d left her.

She looked up at him and smiled. “Yes?”

“Yeah, I just wanted to make sure my contact information is up to date.”

“Sure,” she said, moving back over to the computer. “What was the last name again?” she asked apologetically.

“Sands.” He took an informational brochure out of its holder on the desk as he answered, and removed a pen from his inside coat pocket.

She nodded, and typed in the information. “Sheldon, right?”

“Yes.”

She read off a cell phone number and apartment address, and he quickly jotted it down. He told her the information was correct, and then gave her an alternate phone number to keep her busy while he wrote down the last bit of the address. She looked up from the screen just as he folded the brochure in half and slipped it in his pocket.

“Well, that should do it,” he said. “Thanks.”

“Have a good evening, Mr. Sands.”

He heard the buzz of the drill, and the sense of dread that came after was all consuming. He opened his eyes as sweat beaded on his brow. His vision was hazy and blurred at first; a result of the drug that ran through his veins. It made him feel numb all over, but he was still aware of what was going on around him.

He saw her first. That bitch, Ajedrez.

At least, that’s who it should have been. But belatedly he realized it wasn’t her.

It was Cecelia. He only saw her for a moment before his vision was blocked by Guevara, but he saw her long enough to register the cold, cruel smile on her lips.

“Sorry, Baby. I told you I wasn’t interested in your schemes.”

She said something more, but the sound of the drill, now in his line of sight, drowned out whatever it was.

As the pain hit, he jolted awake.

The feeling of motion made him feel slightly nauseated as he came back to reality; the tick of the turn signal reminding him of where he was. The taxi driver said nothing, but Sands felt the man’s curious eyes on him as the taxi slowed, then made a right turn.

Sands rolled down the window, feeling suffocated in the stuffy cab. It smelled of sweat and stale French fries, most likely left over from the cabby’s quick drive-through lunch. The fresh air helped alleviate his queasiness as he wiped the sweat off his brow with a portion of his sleeve.

Calm. Down.

He needed to deal with Cecelia. He needed to talk to Cam. He had to get back the microdots he’d taken off Jackson’s body. He had to stop the Company from framing him. He needed to know what information Ava had for him.

‘Easy as cherry pie.’

Most of all, he needed to get a grip.

He had a busy week ahead of him.

Latin Translations

Adeste Fideles – Oh come, all ye faithful.
Vae – Damn

FIC: Wilderness of Mirrors - Chapter 3/?

2009-11-26T20:47:08Z

Title: Wilderness of Mirrors
Rating: R for language and violence
Disclaimer: I don't own it. Just playing.
Beta: smtfhw
Feedback: Savored like good, slow roasted pork.
Archived at: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/3175057/1/

Summary: Sands must confront madness headon, and rediscover himself in the process, if he wishes to reclaim his life. But how does a blind man survive in a wilderness of mirrors? Sequel to Sands Through The Hourglass.

Author's Note: Happy Thanksgiving! Remember me? No? Well, wow, it's been a long time since I posted the first two chapters of this story here... you can read and refresh your memory as to what the heck this story is about here: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/3175057/1/ . The prequel to this story is also archived on the site.

Chapter 3 – Catch My Eye

The Washington National Opera’s version of Macbeth seemed to be quite good. The singers’ voices projected well and their performances were more than adequate, as far as Sands could tell. It was impossible for him to judge much else about the production, and he couldn’t help feeling a little bitter. There was no point in going to live theatre if he could get as much out of the experience by checking out an audio tape from the library.

He’d never seen Macbeth in the theatre before, and even now that he could say he’d seen it, he hadn’t seen it. Who’d have thought that one day Sheldon Jeffery Sands would be spurned by simple semantics?

Belatedly he realized that Ava had started whispering to him again, and leaned in closer as she continued speaking.
“… all this ruckus made over one little box.” Her tone was one of disbelief, and it dawned on him that Ava must not know much about PANDORA. But then, who did? He’d been involved in PANDORA’s creation, and right now it looked as if he knew diddly-squat about the project.

“A box?” Sands questioned. “A box is like a theatre. It’s an empty shell that’s nothing without something inside it.”

“You started it all, didn’t you?” Ava asked. He didn’t think he was imagining the uneasiness that had crept into her normally calm voice.

“I dig your theory. Like it better than the truth.”

Ava grabbed hold of his lower arm and squeezed, as if to get his complete attention… apparently she didn’t realize that she’d already firmly secured it. “What is the truth?” she asked; her voice almost impossible to hear.

“Whatever I make it,” he stated, leaving it at that. Telling her about the PANDORA project would serve no other purpose than to keep her awake at night, and waste the valuable time they had. Besides, his curiosity – oh yes, he saw the irony – about what Ava did know about PANDORA was getting the better of him.

“Where was the box opened?” he asked, curious to know the answer.

Ava shifted in her seat. “You mean to say that you didn’t open it?” she asked. Her tone suggested that she already knew the answer.

Sands quirked an eyebrow in Ava’s direction and propped his elbow up on the armrest between them. “I only stole a quick peek inside.”

“What did you see?”

His answer was instantaneous. “A solid idea, poorly executed.” He turned towards her as his lips bent into a crooked smile. He shot the question right back at her. “When you thieved a glance inside, what did you see?”

When she didn’t respond immediately, his mind formed an image of Ava sitting beside him with her mouth slightly agape. After a lengthy pause he heard a slow intake of breath.

“What makes you think I’ve seen inside?” she asked, and she really did sound curious as to how he’d come to that conclusion. It shouldn’t have been a surprise to her. After all, it was what he was good at.

Sands’ index finger rested on his chin, leisurely moving back and forth. His smile turned predatory at the subtle admission he heard in her voice; it was hidden in the faintly breathless quality of her ‘Why’ and ‘I’ve’. It was barely audible, but it was there nonetheless. “And bingo was his name-o!”

Before Ava had a chance to answer, a shrill alarm pierced through the theatre’s atmosphere like an arrow flying towards its target. The play stopped in mid-act; first the actors, then the orchestra. A few seconds of stupefied silence followed, and the only noticeable sound was the fire alarm’s shrill wail. Sands leaned into Ava, and casually said, “Our Company has arrived, Dear.”

As if on cue, everyone began to respond in synchronicity. The sound of people standing, shuffling feet, and disappointed groans engulfed the opera house as the entertainment was unceremoniously interrupted. He turned towards Ava, shrugged, and stood with the rest of the crowd. Being in the aisle seat meant he either skedaddled, or got trampled over. Besides, if this impromptu intermission was courtesy of the Company, it was better to leave with the crowd and be hard to find, than be separated from them and easily singled out.

Reaching inside his coat, he began to take his collapsible cane out of the inside pocket. Ava stopped him with a touch of her hand on his. “Don’t attract attention,” she whispered, gently pushing him forward into the aisle.

He returned his cane to his inner pocket, but the feeling of helplessness that engulfed him immediately afterwards was not a welcome sensation. He knew she was right; a blind man with a cane was much easier to spot than a blind man without one, but it still left the little matter of not stumbling on every other step, which would also be a dead giveaway.

He really did hate this.

Ava took hold of his arm and led the way to the exit. With Ava’s help and the sound of footsteps in front of him, he managed to make it up the flight of stairs with only a couple of minor missteps.

It was, he guessed, around the opera house doors that led to the lobby that he lost Ava. He tripped-up on something – what he didn’t know – only barely managing to catch himself before falling.

“Oh!”

That was Ava, whose hand was no longer tucked in the crook of his arm.

Standing up straight and making sure his sunglasses were still secure, Sands waited for Ava to take up his arm again… only, she didn’t.

Sands opened his mouth to call her name, only to be bumped from behind. He lurched forward a little from the contact, and felt the warmth of the afternoon sun filtering through the large glass doors of the South Grand Foyer. He turned, a biting retort on the tip of his tongue, when he became aware of the faint smell of smoke in the air.

Frowning, Sands walked forward with the throng, taking the cane out of his pocket and extending it as he stepped up on the inclining ramp that marked the entrance of the Grand Foyer from the opera house. It brought the unwelcome attention that Ava had warned about, but at this point he had little choice. As he descended the opposite side of the ramp, he grabbed hold of the steel railing and listened for any sound of Ava.

Hearing none, he continued forward, and kept with the crowd as they filtered out of the Grand Foyer and onto the outdoor River Terrace. Since he was on the ground level, the terrace connected to the north and south plazas, where he guessed most of the patrons would gather until the fire department arrived.

Heading towards the edge of the terrace that looked out to the Potomac River, Sands positioned himself on the outskirts of the crowd that was moving towards one of the plazas.

When his cane touched the cement half wall, and the well-pruned shrubs that acted as a barrier between the terrace and the steep drop into the river, he stopped and waited.

He had a pretty good idea who he was waiting for.

Taking the easy way out was never his style. Neither was postponing an important tête-à-tête. Since Ava had hitched a ride to splitsville, he had no reason to avoid the Company. After all, he’d be walking straight into the lion’s mouth soon enough, so this whole escapade had to have been a snare for Ava.

It was too bad he and Ava had been interrupted so early. Sands had a good deal of questions for the little spook. He had no doubt that the Company’s timing was anything but accidental.

He honed in on the sounds behind him. The last stragglers were leaving the Kennedy Center now. He reached in his pocket for his pack of cigarettes, feeling the familiar urge. As he lit up, approaching footsteps told him that he wasn’t going to have to worry about killing time. His Company had arrived.

Sands waited patiently for whoever it was to make the first overture, using the time to take a deep pull at his cigarette. The wonders of nicotine worked their magic, relaxing him almost instantly.

“Nasty habit, Sands.”

Sands smirked, turning towards his ex-partner as he exhaled smoke through his nose. “But not my worst.”

“How well I know that,” Mike Gleason said. “Still terrorizing the rookies?”

“I consider it my duty,” Sands replied easily, taking another drag. “When did you suddenly become a patron of the arts?”

“Since it became my duty.”

Sands cocked his head at Mike, but he was really listening to what was going on around them. By the sound of it, almost everyone had cleared the building. “Did you get your woman?” he asked Mike. He had no illusions as to who this was really about – he’d become nothing but a bit player – at least for today. He didn’t think that would be the case for very long; he wasn’t good at sharing the limelight.

Mike leisurely made his way towards the North Plaza. “Let this one be, Sands.”

“I never could let sleeping dogs… sleep,” Sands said, staying put. He wasn’t about to follow Mike and lose their unspoken battle of resolve. “I hope you didn’t do any real damage to the Kennedy Center. That’d be downright traitorous,” Sands added with a suggestive quirk of an eyebrow, his voice rising slightly as Mike walked away.

“Of course not. It’s not our turf.”

Sands snorted, cigarette to his lips once more. Not bothering to respond, and knowing that he was going to have to wait Mike out, he took some time to listen to the sound of the Potomac rushing by and wonder what had become of Ava. He knew he wasn’t going to get anything out of Mike about her. Not if the Company didn’t want him to know. Mike was competent enough in interrogation techniques and psychology to keep his mouth shut about clandestine details, and wasn’t going to drop some big revelation easily.

It was a cigarette and a half later when Mike sucked it up and came walking back. Sirens could be heard from the opposite side of the building, which meant the two of them were running out of time.

“Did you ever notice that the contents of a box are far more interesting before the box is opened?” Sands drawled, still facing the Potomac as he spoke to his approaching ex-partner. Mike was standing to his right, and the long suffering sigh he let loose told Sands he was put-out by even being here.

“You don’t seem to learn. You start sticking your nose in the Company’s private affairs, and they’ll put you out on your ass, Jeff.”
Exhaling a stream of smoke from his nose, Sands finally faced Mike. “Like they did in Mexico?”

“Not exactly. This time they’ll finish what they started.”

Sands took another puff of his smoke, before tossing his cashed cigarette into the river below. “And what was that?”
Mike stepped closer to the river barrier; probably looking south towards the Roosevelt Memorial Bridge. He didn’t rush his response, and Sands had the feeling that Mike wasn’t looking at him when he finally did answer. “Ruining you.”

Sands’ jaw clenched, but he forced his voice to remain cool. It was the response he’d been expecting after all… but anticipating the statement didn’t make it any easier for him to hear it. “Oh, and I thought my special talents were going to get the Company out of their latest pickle.”

He was well aware of the fact that he was going to have to play ball if he wanted to get anything out of the Company – and that included his next job. Despite all evidence to the contrary, he was fully capable of doing so if it meant getting what he wanted.

“It’s one option of many. You know as well as I do that no one man is indispensable to the Company.” Mike wasn’t taunting or gloating. He was stating facts, plain and simple.

Still, Sands couldn’t help but think, ‘Especially a blind one, eh Mike?’

“Semper idem,” Sands said with a wave of his hand. “Are you telling me to play nice, or else?”

“I can’t tell you anything. Never could. Just pretend I’m talking to myself out loud.”

“Nasty habit,” Sands quipped, turning away from Mike and starting towards the South Plaza. “Who exactly was she working for?” he asked, referring to Ava. He’d meant under what sector; the answer he received was something entirely different.

“Not us.”

Sands stopped in his tracks. “Counter-espionage?” he asked, but received no answer. Mike walked away, in the opposite direction, apparently having said all he wanted to say; perhaps even more than he should have…

As Sands walked back to the plaza, he dialed Cam’s number on his cell phone. Again, receiving no answer, he rang off without leaving a message then punched in another number.

Not paying complete attention to how far he’d walked, Sands bumped into the barrier that marked the south end of the River Terrace, and stopped there as he waited for the man on the other end of the line to pick up.

“What is it?” the man answered after the fourth ring.

“You’re always oozing charisma and charm, Tom,” Sands replied smoothly, buttoning up his coat; the brisk December air significantly cooler near the waters of the Potomac.

“Aren’t you dead yet?” Tom asked grumpily. Sands didn’t buy the act. He knew Tom; the money paid to Tom for his special services warmed the man’s sub-zero heart.

“It’s only a matter of time, or so I’m told.”

Tom never was one to shoot the breeze, and got straight to the point. “You got something for me or not?”

“How about a little game of twenty questions?”

“Oh, Jesus…” Yeah, Tom was well acquainted with how Sands asked even the simplest of questions and it only increased his agitation – much like anything else Sands said to him.

“Ah, that’s right. You’re a busy man, aren’t you?” Sands said, turning slightly towards the sound of someone hurrying past him and down the terrace steps that led to the nearest plaza. “Then how about just one question? When you grabbed that shovel of yours and dug up Ava, what cemetery plot were you desecrating?”

There was a short pause on the other end as Tom interpreted his meaning. “Are you asking what agency? The Company, where else? She’s an undercover operative; specialty is deep undercover intelligence gathering. She came highly recommended.”

“How deep did you dig into her cover?” Sands asked. He was itching for another cigarette, but the pack was getting a little light and he felt it might be wise to save a few for the upcoming crisis.

“Deep enough,” Tom snapped, obviously not appreciating the implication that he’d missed an important piece of information on his end. “You know how I operate.”

“I’m hip to your methods, but I suggest you put away the shovel and drill your way to the core, because you haven’t discovered what lies beneath the mantle.”

Terminating the call with the swift push of a button, Sands continued his way to the plaza, intent on pushing through the masses and heading towards the taxi stand. He realized about half way there that he should have battled his way through the north plaza instead; it would have been quicker.

Just as he was passing through the shuttle depot he became aware of Somewhere Over The Rainbow emanating from his left pants pocket. He stopped, pulling out his cell phone and flipping it open.

“Are you the good witch, or the bad witch?” he asked in greeting. He expected it to be either Cam, or Ava.

“D.C. is beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Last time I checked, yes.” It was Ava. Much to his surprise, he felt slightly relieved.

“The promise of America is a simple promise: every person shall share in the blessings of this land,” Ava said, and then added. “See you later.”

With that, Ava hung up. Sands snapped his phone shut, furrowing his brow. Obviously she still needed to meet up with him, and the quote was a clue.

Unfortunately, although the quote seemed vaguely familiar, he couldn’t place it. Her first question seemed to be a hint as well, but it wasn’t enough to jump start his brain.

“Vae,” Sands muttered. Slipping the cell back into his pocket he continued making his way to the taxi stand. He thought that she might be overestimating his knowledge of famous quotes. He was flattered, but that didn’t change the fact that he couldn’t recognize any quote thrown at him. Of course he could do a little research and find out who’d said it easy enough, but it would take too much time.

Arriving at the taxi stand about three minutes later, Sands waited in line for an opportunity to put his life in a D.C. cabbie’s hands. He was still mulling over the quote Ava had tossed him. It reeked of some goody-two-shoes politician, but that was little help when D.C. was cram packed with buildings, bridges, memorials and parks named after famous political figures.

The promise of America is a simple promise: every person shall share in the blessings of this land.

He hadn’t realized he’d spoken out loud until a lady about two people back in line responded.

“What?” Sands asked, turning to face her. It was worth a shot.

“Lady Bird.”

Sands cocked his head questioningly, and then it dawned on him. “Johnson?” he asked for edification.

“Yeah – it’s on a plaque in her memorial grove. What made you say that?”

Ignoring her question, Sands asked, “Where is it?”

“Right across the bridge. It’s on the George Washington Memorial Parkway.”

“Stick around,” Sands told the taxi driver, as he felt the car pull up to the curb and stop.

An odd feeling struck him as he stepped out of the taxi and onto the cement sidewalk. It was that niggling feeling in the corner of his mind when he believed something wasn’t kosher, but he couldn’t back it up with anything solid.

You need to know.

It was that thought that drove him on, into the memorial park and deeper into an increasingly tenuous situation. Unfolding his cane, Sands began his trek into the park, leaving the taxi behind him. He hoped the path would take him to the memorial marker, but having never been to the park before he could only guess.

The Lady Bird Johnson Memorial was quiet; so quiet he had yet to hear another person within earshot. His cane tapping the path in front of him was his only accompanying sound, and in his mind it grew louder with each tap.

Instinct kicking in, he directed his attention to the surrounding sounds, tuning out his own incessant tapping. He stopped.

Waiting a few seconds, he started to wonder if he should doubt his loose hold on reality. He’d thought he’d heard something, but it had been so faint he couldn’t be entirely sure what he’d heard, or even if he’d really heard it.

Now he couldn’t hear a damn thing. Shaking his head, Sands sighed and continued on.

Only a minute later he heard it again. This time, he could make it out. It was a sharp metallic sound, about thirty feet behind him.

Clink. Step.

Sands froze, certain that the sound was irritatingly familiar.

It’s not possible… is it?

Clink. Step.

It can’t be him. It makes no sense. What would a mariachi be doing in DC?

It wasn’t logical. Sands inhaled deeply as a brisk breeze touched his face, and dry leaves rustled nearby. A prickle at the back of his neck told him that he was being watched.

Take care of the sense, and the sounds will take care of themselves.

Sands forced aside his growing anxiety by snatching up his pack of cigarettes. He did his best to force his hand to stay steady as he lit up.

Indeed, if someone was up for a game of cat and mouse the elements of surprise and patience were called for.

After taking a couple of puffs of his cigarette, he continued walking down the path. He was doing his best not to tip the man off, and not entirely sure that he was successful.

Five minutes down the path brought him to a few descending steps. A little poking around with his cane and he discovered that he was in some sort of courtyard. The stone he stood on now was smoother – a finer quality – than the rougher stone path that he’d taken to get here, and the area was far wider than a path, sunken a few feet into the ground.

Sands’ right hand fiddled with his cigarette nervously as he walked slowly about the courtyard; it was the only thing betraying his otherwise calm demeanor.

He hadn’t heard the mystery clink for a few minutes now. Taking another drag, it occurred to him that one of these days it might be wise to listen to the little warning voice in his head; it was persistent in saying, this isn’t right.

But he was the first to admit that nothing had felt right since the Day of the Dead.

Distracting himself from his thoughts, he listened again for signs of life within close proximity. Still nothing but silence.
So he was downright shocked when his feet were swept out from under him. He fell to the stone hard. The wind was knocked out of him as he made contact with the ground.

Somewhere between his impact with the ground and trying to regain his senses someone snatched his cane from his grasp. Coughing, pain shot through his chest as heavy pressure was applied to his neck; the source was most likely his attacker’s knee. The assailant was making sure Sands didn’t get the chance to catch his breath.

Sands struggled for air, and for control, as someone’s hands grasped his own and pinned them down.

Feeling lightheaded, weak, and unable to breath, Sands couldn’t put up much of a fight. He was barely able to register what the man was saying.

“I’m afraid Ava won’t be making it tonight. She caught my eye. I see she caught yours too,” he said, sarcasm lacing his tone.
Sands didn’t think he recognized the voice, but his fight for oxygen might have been hampering his ability to recall it. He struggled weakly against the man’s grip, accomplishing nothing.

His attacker didn’t let up, and continued speaking. “‘Thou shalt not get caught’ was never one of God’s commandments, and no man can be saved by trying to keep it.”

Then, mercifully, the pressure against his windpipe was gone. If the attacker had kept it up much longer, Sands would have passed out. He heard the man’s footsteps walk calmly away as he fought to fill air in his lungs.

Over his own coughing, Sands barely heard the attacker tap a few times on the stone, about seven feet away and to his left.
Then, the mystery man left.

That was it. No threat. No torture. No date with death. Sands was completely thrown; at least he was after he’d regained his ability to breathe.

Sitting up slowly, Sands took a moment to regain his composure before moving to where he’d heard the tap. It was a familiar sound; one he’d been trying to tune out minutes before. He was hoping that the man had left him his cane, although he doubted someone who’d just attacked him would show that sort of consideration.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t his cane that he found.

The first thing he came into contact with was the deathly still form of a human body.

Latin Translations:

Semper idem – Always the same thing.
Vae - Damn

Terminology:

G-Man – Short for Government Man, and slang for FBI Agent.
Counter-espionage – Spying directed against an enemy's intelligence collection organizations. Methods include surveillance, undercover agents, and monitoring the behavior of legally accredited 'diplomatic personnel' (some of whom are sometimes actually spies or spy handlers), and similar means.

Quotes:

Take care of the sense, and the sounds will take care of themselves.
Alice in Wonderland, by Lewis Carroll

agentsands @ 2009-10-11T17:41:00

2009-10-11T22:43:06Z

Video featuring El and Sands. Just a little dub to show the fandom love!