Product Disclaimer: All but Xena and Gabrielle are mine. Conspiracy Theory is the third and final sequel to The Hitchhiker and The Price of Innocence. The story makes far more sense if you have read the others first. All comments happily are accepted at thebongobear@yahoo.com

CONSPIRACY THEORY

December 25, 2001


by Bongo Bear

Prologue: The Plan


"Gods! I love this job!" Ares roared over head of the woman below him. His godly powers amplified and echoed his voice like thunder throughout the building. When the reverberations finally stopped, there was not a sound. Then the woman moaned softly. Ares smiled and began in earnest.

Today was his day off, but his mind still whirled with plans of conquest and blood lust. Especially the blood lust. Modern armies disappointed Ares. Their mechanical efficiency and their highly technological killing machines took all the fun out of making war. Ever since mankind developed archery, the ability to kill from a distance with increasing accuracy and deadly force has been an irresistible goal. Now that power has increased a thousand fold. It's gotten to the point that men no longer wished to see their enemy die at their feet, to feel the life force drain into the ground, or to throttle and slaughter until not a living thing was left standing. That was what War was all about for Ares. The thrill of victory and the adoring worship of his believers sustained his passion and granted him eternal life. Aroused by this thought, he ground in a bit deeper.

With the coming dawn of the new millennium, Ares had a plan. He would create a new warrior molded from the ancient model. These warriors, whom he called the Sons of Ares, did not join the armies of the established governments, although those armies were often excellent training grounds for his purpose. No, they created their own para-military forces and hid them in isolated forests of the Northwest. Or hid them in plain view in the crowded cities of the Midwest and the Deep South. They were everywhere and nowhere.

He fed them lies rivaling those of the Prince of Lies. He motivated their minds with the twisted ideologies of racial purity, jingoistic nationalism, and xenophobia. He wrote the incendiary lyrics to their skinhead music. He even attended a few concerts, just to see if he could prod them into a small riot or two. That was for the men.

For the women, he held a very special fate. He convinced the women that their role in life was to become the brood mares of the new master race. He personally inseminated each one with the promise that their child would hold special favor in his eyes. Of course, every child of his would be special. Every man-child would grow to become an officer in his new army. Every son of his would become a minor demi-god in his own right. Each son was another tool for creating the new world order. David Koresh had the right idea, but even that maniac worshipped the wrong God and look what happened to him! A woman, an Attorney General of the United States no less, brought him down. No woman was ever going to best Ares. Not again. Not ever, not after Xena.

Xena was the last piece of the puzzle that needed shaping to fit his plan. And oh, how his plan was coming together so very well now. Strife did an excellent job of beating Gabrielle's host to the brink of death and no farther. No, no, if he had killed her, she would have become yet another martyr in Xena's scrapbook. The plan was to drive a wedge deeply enough between Xena and her favorite until they could not stand another minute together. Gabrielle's self-righteous attitude made it easy. Their mutual hatred would soon drive Xena back to where she belonged, into his army and into his arms.

Ares looked into the large silver mirror suspended above his bed. He saw his own handsome reflection encased behind bars and a heavy lock. However, if he looked hard enough, he could just barely make out a ghostly figure lying in a fitful slumber. Gwen Covington's consciousness, her soul, laid locked in that mirror. The silvered pane was Ares' concession to Aphrodite in exchange for her non-interference. He promised he would not snuff out Gwen's pitiful life nor would he consign her to Hades' judgment. But he tricked his naïve sister and trapped Gabrielle's descendant in limbo, possibly forever for all he cared.

He gave the writhing woman beneath him one final thrust then released her. He smiled with the satisfaction of knowing that she would give him a healthy male child in nine months time. "Bring me another one!" he called out to his servant. The servant knocked on the door, then kneeled at Ares' feet.

"Where is she?" Ares demanded.

"There's only one left, sire," the servant kept his eyes glued to the leather of his master's boot. "But, I don't think she is suitable..."

"Why not?"

"Well, sire.....she's from Southern California. She's incredibly beautiful, as are so many women from that part of the country, but....."

"Yes, I know.....she gives attitude, like every other female from that God-forsaken state! I don't give a damn what the Beach Boys say about California girls." The servant nodded his head sadly. "Oh, I guess she'll have to do. Why can't you find me women from another state where they're less sophisticated? Someplace like Wyoming......"

"Sire, she's from Orlando," the servant said hopefully.

"That will do. Bring her in."


Chapter 1: Vancouver

Night fell during their long nap. They slept fully clothed since they were only going to sleep for a hour or two in the afternoon. Alex woke first and noted that the window was still open. The white curtains framing the window fluttered in the cool breeze. She could see the full moon cast its cold light into their bedroom and illuminate the sleeping face of her lover. The worry lines were gone and the lips were slightly parted in relaxation. Her breathing was slow and even, but shallow. The moonlight washed her face in a ghostly pallor. Alex bent down to lightly brush her warm lips against cool ones. Her sleeping lover stirred slightly, feeling the feather light pressure and unconsciously wet her lips. Encouraged, Alex kissed her with greater ardor, savoring the sweet softness below.

The aroused sleeper gasped for air as she fully awoke beneath Alex's wandering lips. She felt Alex pull her closer, the heat of her lover's body warming her. She heard a pleading whisper. "It's been so long..." She slowly opened her eyes to see smoky blues staring back at her. She could see her lover's need in their dark depths. She felt skillful fingers unbutton and spread open her blouse. The cool draft drifted over her breasts and her nipples stiffened in response. Then hot breath followed by a wet mouth covered one breast, hardening the swollen nipple even further, while a warm palm caressed the other. Her breathing quickened and she arched her back as Alex held her even tighter. A hand slipped in between her jeans and her smooth belly. "Let me help you," she said, reaching down to remove her clothing.

"What did you say?" Alex said suddenly and stopped her ministrations.

"I said, 'Let me help you'. What's wrong?"

"It's your accent, Gabrielle." Alex released her lover's body and rolled away to face the blank wall. The bard never learned to drop her Greek accent, even after nearly a century of speaking American English. Normally, Alex didn't mind; but now the resonant lilting voice only painfully reminded her how Gwen's own clipped and precise speech was silenced. "Sorry, I started something I can't finish," Alex said over her shoulder.

"Then let Xena," Gabrielle said gently. Her lover turned back to face her. Her features took on the hardness that marked Xena's control over her host's body. Alex retreated into the dreamscape and waited out the lovers' tryst. Xena grappled with Gabrielle. The warrior twined her fingers into the luxuriant brown hair and pulled in her bard for another breath-taking kiss. They tore off each other's remaining clothes and threw them on the floor. They made love with a furious intensity, shouting each other names over and over as they climaxed.

Meanwhile, Alex sat in a corner of the dreamscape with her arms wrapped around herself. She rocked back and forth on her heels as she remembered the first time Gwen and she made love. Gwen was so shy, so quiet during sexual intimacy. Even while shuddering in the throes of passion, she scarcely moaned aloud, preferring instead to softly breathe the sounds of pleasure into Alex's ear. At first, Alex thought that she wasn't satisfying her new lover. Quite to the contrary, Gwen was very pleased indeed. She simply developed a habit of quiet declarations from her experiences in a crowded college dorm with thin walls. One embarrassing moment with a particularly boisterous lover taught her to mute her verbal passions. She made up the difference with her physical ardor. Alex came to appreciate Gwen's quiet, but intense manner as it made her a more attentive and careful lover.

But now, Alex's own passions burned without any hope of relief. She could not satisfy her needs with Gabrielle in Gwen's body. While the ancient lovers rested from their exertions, Alex regained control of her own body. She found herself half draped over Gabrielle and covered with a thin sheen of sweat. She felt sticky all over. Gabrielle's bangs were matted against her forehead and her hair was well tousled. The bard was fast asleep. "Looks like someone enjoyed herself," Alex muttered bitterly.

Alex pushed herself off Gabrielle, careful not to wake her, and covered her with a blanket. She gathered up the clothing scattered around the room, dumped them into the clothes hamper, and walked into the bathroom. Closing the door behind her, she flipped on the lights and pulled her dark hair from her face to look at herself in the mirror. The harsh incandescent lighting highlighted the dark circles under her eyes, which were rimmed with red. She hadn't slept well for weeks now. She pulled the shower curtain aside to turn on the water. Already naked, she stepped in to cool off under the spray.

The cold shower didn't do a bit of good. Alex dried off quickly and dressed. "If the home cooking is no good, there's always take out," she said to herself. She grabbed the car keys on the way to the garage. Then she hopped into the black Miata and roared off into the night. Gabrielle heard the engine start and the garage door open. She ran to the window just in time to see Alex driving away from the house and toward downtown.

*******

"Just sex, that's all I need tonight," Alex kept repeating to herself as she drove around the block for the fifth time. She had never even considered paying for sex before, but recent events changed her mind about the morality of the act. Young women, barely at the end of their childhood, displayed themselves to passing motorists. She stopped the car in front of the one with long brown hair, sun streaked with blonde, and eyes a soft shade of milk chocolate.

Alex flashed a large bill, the only US currency that did not have a dead president printed on it. Even in Vancouver, US currency was acceptable among certain merchants of certain services. The prostitute snatched the bill from Alex's extended hand and tucked it into her cleavage. She leaned on the door and said, "You're not my usual type of customer, but for that much...." She opened the door and climbed into the car. Alex drove to a nearby hotel and checked them in for the night.

"What's your name?" Alex asked as she gestured for the prostitute to be seated on the bed.

"Does my name really matter?" the prostitute hesitated, "Most people call me Diana."

"Diana, I changed my mind. I don't really want to do anything."

"Then why are we here?" Diana said as she sat down on the bed. She patted the spot next to her and beckoned Alex to sit next to her. Alex remained seated in a nearby chair.

"I just want to talk."

"For one hundred dollars, I can talk about anything you want," Diana said with a satisfied smile. She was set for the night and didn't have to work any more until the next day. This was the easiest money she ever earned.

"I'm here tonight because my lover is kind of dead."

" 'Kind of dead'? Is that like being a little bit pregnant?"

"That's the best explanation I can give. The point is that I'm alone and want someone to talk to."

Alex proceeded to tell Diana about how her difficult 'roommates' were in fact making her life miserable. She carefully avoided too many details about how she met her roomies, but simply that they existed and she was growing to despise at least one of them.

"Why don't you just kick Gabby and this Xener..." Diana suggested.

"It's Xena," Alex corrected.

"....Xena out? Roommates aren't like family. You can get other roomies," Diana said.

Alex laughed to herself, if I could only tell you everything without sounding like a complete maniac. "It's not that easy. There are ......complications."

"Complications are what you make them. The simplest answers work for me. Throw those ho's out on their asses!" Diana said without truly understanding the situation. But there was something about her simplistic advice that appealed to Alex's pragmatic nature.

So they talked and talked all through the night and into the early light of the next morning. Alex purged the anxieties and insecurities she had been feeling into Diana's patient ears. When she said everything there was to say, she took Diana back to the street corner where she found her. Alex felt less anxious and a little more relaxed; well, at least until she returned their house to find Gabrielle pitching a fit.

**********

"Where did you go last night? Why did you wait so long to come home?" Gabrielle confronted Alex in the foyer of their house. Alex brushed by her and went into the bedroom. She stripped off her clothes and got into the shower. Gabby followed her into the bathroom, still scolding her for the late night. "This is still your home! You can't just run off like that." Gabrielle yelled over the rising steam to the shadowy figure behind the shower curtain, who was busily trying to ignore her. "I need you here!"

Alex tore open the shower curtain, drenching Gabrielle as she spoke, "Oh bullshit! All you need is Xena. And she's right here with me whenever and however you want her. I made my home with Gwen. She's not here any more. I want her back, Gabby. I want her back so much it's killing me to look at you and not see her inside." Tears streamed down her face and mixed with the soap and water. "Find her, dammit! I don't care how you do it. Bring her back to me!" Alex yanked the curtain back into place, dismissing an unusually silent Gabrielle.

**********

From a vantagepoint far above the Earthly plane, two goddesses of Olympus looked down upon the brooding women.

"Artemis, I think your 'therapy session' with our girl Alex did the trick."

"I hope I didn't push her too hard. But there still is the matter of Xena."

"Leave the warrior to me, Huntress. I have a plan."


Chapter 2: The People's Republic of Boulder

Gabrielle wandered up and down the Pearl Street Mall, staring blankly at the storefronts as she passed them. Her shadowy reflection vaguely returned her gaze in the glass. It was a wonder that she managed to negotiate the crowded sidewalks without running into the other pedestrians or stumbling over the leashes of those walking their dogs. Inwardly, she smiled grimly at that thought because it was so true. Gwen wasn't home. In the midst of hundreds of souls, she meandered down the bustling street alone.

The move from Vancouver to Denver severely taxed her physical and emotional reserves. First there were all the headaches of the move itself. The movers, burly men with the physiques of oxen and the grace of a herd, dropped their couch and broke off a leg. It now stood slightly askew on three good legs and a cinder block.

Secondly, there was Alex. She and Gabrielle fought all the way down into the States and didn't let up until they were within sight of the Denver skyline. They wounded each other with increasingly caustic comments and stinging jabs. No personal fault was left unsalted.

They fought about stopping too often for restroom breaks. "You have a bladder the size of a grape!" Gabrielle complained as they stopped for what seemed to her like every fifteen minutes.

They fought about each other's driving. After several agonizing miles following behind a doublewide trailer, Alex whined, "You drive like my grandmother! Pull over and let me drive."

"Considering granny, I take that as a compliment." Since Gabrielle knew Alex's grandmother better than Alex, she was actually right.

And it went on like that for mile after mile. It got to the point that Gabrielle couldn't look at Alex without developing a migraine. She needed time to decompress. Unfortunately, time away from Alex meant time away from Xena as well.

The freshness of a university town like Boulder fit the bill perfectly, except for one thing. Smoking was completely banned in all public places. The nicotine demon claimed her during one of her earlier incarnations. Alex wouldn't let her smoke in the car or in their apartment. She figured a weekend of self-indulgent pampering at a local bed and breakfast, The Gunbarrel Inn, was what she needed. That and a good cigar. Back at the Inn, a nice fat stogie waited patiently for her on the nightstand.

She stopped suddenly when a young man with curly yellow hair and a nostril pierced with a diamond stud thrust a handbill in her face. In large Gothic type, the bill declared that the Psychic Fair was just around the next corner, across the street from the Boulder Bookstore. "What the hell. It's not like I believe in that crap, but there's nothing else for me to do," she thought.

The dimly lit coffeehouse hosting the fair smelled deliciously of freshly roasted beans and baked cookies. If the future couldn't be revealed here, at least she would have a nice snack in the present. She purchased a large peanut butter cookie and an iced coffee. Sipping the aromatic brew, she scanned the booths for the psychics lining the walls of the back room. Each psychic sat behind a small card table covered with a dark velvet cloth and a crystal ball, or deck of tarot cards, or rune stones, or some other fortune telling gimmick on top. That is, all but one. A plump, plain-looking woman of indeterminate age had only a clock turned away from her on the side of the table and a pad of paper and a pen in front of her. She was writing down some notes. Curious, Gabrielle approached her.

"So what do you do?" Gabrielle asked.

The woman's serene brown eyes looked up at her, slightly startled. "I read auras." She pointed to the sign taped to the front of the table: Auras read for $5.00 for each ten-minute session. "Would you like me to read yours?" she said tentatively.

Gabrielle thought about it for a minute. The Psychic Fair was going pretty slow right then. Only a handful of people occupied the psychics' booths. "I'd like to just chat with you first, if you're not busy." The woman smiled and nodded her head. Seating herself carefully in the chair in front of the card table, she asked, "I'm curious, what do you do when you're not a psychic?"

Initially, the unexpected question took the woman aback, then she said, "I work with children with learning disabilities. There's a special education program in the schools here. I spend several hours in each one during the week, then go on to the next one."

"Working with kids must be very rewarding."

"It is. What do you do?"

"I'm an architect," Gabrielle said hesitantly, knowing it wasn't quite true. That was Gwen's line of work.

"You have a very distinctive accent. Where are you from?"

"I'm from Vancouver, but I'm an American."

"Funny, you don't sound like it. You don't even sound Canadian."

Gabrielle visibly bristled at that comment. "That's what everyone tells me," she sighed. Changing the focus back to the psychic, she asked, "What kind of special training do you need to work with kids like that?"

"I have a degree in child development and psychology."

"Here at the university?"

"Yes."

Gabrielle suddenly remembered her manners and extended her hand in greeting, "By the way, my name is Gwen." The name felt uncomfortable on her lips.

"I'm Anna," she said as she clasped the proffered hand firmly, then released it. "Here's my business card." Gabrielle glanced briefly over the card before tucking it in her purse.

"When did you start reading auras?"

"Oh, ever since I was a child I could see them. I didn't how to interpret what I saw until a few years ago," Anna said.

"What happened?"

"I was at my grandmother's death bed. All her life, a warm orange glow, like the sun on a hazy day, surrounded her. When she died, her aura grew dark, slowly turned gray and then faded completely. You're probably not old enough to remember, but it was just like those ghostly images on an old TV set that's about to go out. That's when I realized that a person's aura is the light your soul gives off. All living creatures have one. The color tells me about their character. I don't tell fortunes about the past or future. I can tell you what I see in the here and now."

Intrigued, Gabrielle leaned in closer, "What do you see around me now?"

Anna took Gabrielle's hands into her own and looked into her eyes, "My dear, I'm not sure how to tell you this, but I can hardly see anything around you at all. Just a vague green outline." Anna shook her head. " I don't understand. You're obviously strong and healthy. Yet, you're diminished somehow; it's almost like you're dying inside."

Gabrielle abruptly yanked her hand away from Anna's embrace. She knocked over the chair as she scrambled out of the coffee shop and onto the sidewalk. Breathing hard, she blinked in the bright sunlight. She reached up to smooth the bangs from her face when she felt the cold sweat. "A soulless creature is what Anna saw and it's what I've become," she thought. Anyone, psychic or not, could see that she was a walking shell of a human being. She made a decision: no more putzing around Boulder feeling sorry for herself. She checked out of the Gunbarrel Inn and drove back to Denver. Back to Alex and Xena. The time had come to finally find the real Gwen Covington.

Anna watched the woman who called herself Gwen stumble out onto the sidewalk, then wander off. Once she was certain her client was well on her way, Anna smiled to herself, quite satisfied with her performance. She got up from her psychic fair post and walked into the ladies' room. She never walked out.


Part 3: The Mile-High City

The headline of the Denver Post screamed "Mayor Declares War on Hate Crimes". The recent spate of racially motivated violence threw the city into deep introspection. Why did it happen here of all places? Didn't that kind of hatred belong somewhere else? What brought it to a city known for its tolerance? The article asked these questions a dozen different ways and made no conclusive answers, just conjecture.

Alex read the article with unusual interest. For some reason, the shootings at that downtown bus stop, the subsequent arrest of the skinhead shooter, and then the vandalism at the police station all struck a familiar chord in her. Something about the shooter's picture gave her the shivers. The man's face, just an overgrown boy really, stared back at her from the newsprint. Just an seemingly ordinary face masking a soulless killer behind it. Then she spotted it: an almost imperceptible tattoo near the base of his neck, a small circle with an arrow thrusting upwards to the right.

************

Gabrielle came home late that night. She tried to be quiet as she entered their bedroom, but the squeaky door hinge gave her away. Alex turned on the nightstand light, catching her like a startled animal.

"It's midnight," Alex said as she sat up in their bed.

"I can read a clock," came Gabrielle's caustic reply.

"That's not the point. I worried about you. You left without letting me know where you went."

"You've done the same. Remember Vancouver?"

"Yes." Alex sighed. There was no winning this argument. They had both acted foolishly in the past several weeks. Each one was caught up in her own personal guilt over Gwen's near fatal injuries and now her loss.

"There's something I want to show you." Alex reached over to the nightstand and handed her the paper with the picture of the skinhead circled in red.

"I don't get it." Gabrielle looked puzzled at the picture. "What about him?" Alex pointed to the tattoo. "So?"

"Take a closer look," Alex prompted.

She peered at the tiny mark, squinting her eyes. "It looks like the astrological symbol for Mars. Ares!"

Alex nodded her head slowly.

"How could he be here? Xena locked him up for eternity in the cave with the Eye of Hephaestus," Gabrielle said.

"Nothing can hold a god forever. His presence explains a lot of things. I think he's somehow responsible for what happened to Gwen. You know the police never did catch that guy who ran us off the road."

"I wondered what became of him."

"I'm sure he's one of Ares' minions. Why would anyone attack us like that without provocation?" Alex reasoned.

"He knows we're here, doesn't he?"

"Perhaps, he does. What's important is that *I* know he's here." That was Xena's voice, not Alex. "And I'm going to find that sonofabitch."

Gabrielle reached out to lightly touch Xena's arm. "We don't even know where he is. He could be in the city; he could be hiding out in the mountains."

"Ares can't do anything without making a big splash. Flamboyancy is in his nature. We wait until he makes his next move. Now that we know what to look for, we can find him. Then we stop him," her eyes glittered icily, "Cold. Dead cold."

She placed her hand over Gabrielle's. Then both Xena and Alex embraced her warmly for the first time in the weeks since Gwen's soul left them. The enmity between Alex and Gabrielle melted away, now that they understood what was happening to them. Now that they had an enemy they could hate instead of each other, there was suddenly room in their hearts for forgiveness.


Chapter 4: Happiness is a Warm Pistol

Alex left her car at the light rail station and took the short train ride downtown. She got off at the convention center stop. The marquee listed the main event for that Memorial Day weekend, the Denver Gun and Knife Show. Next week was the Mircobrewery Festival. She made a mental note to return for that.

Now, Xena had a natural interest in weaponery, ancient and modern. But Alex's reasons for being there were strictly as an observer. She hated guns and tolerated swords only because Gwen was fascinated with them. She read about the show in the Friday paper. At first, reading the article was more for Xena's benefit than hers. When Xena demanded that they go, Alex balked, saying, "Why should I waste an afternoon rubbing shoulders with a bunch of gun nuts? Those people wear camo to the grocery store for God's sake!"

Inside Alex's mind, Xena sighed deeply, wondering if her twentieth century descendant really sprang from her line. She explained to Alex that, for the most part, shows like this were on the up and up. Legitimate businessmen sold arms and edge weapons legally. As a former warlord, she also knew that outlaws often hid in the shadow of their law-abiding counterparts. Therefore, certain illegal weapons could be bought under the table if the price was right. She also knew what kind of men were willing to pay the price. Ares' men were sure to be there. A little more prodding was all it took to send peaceloving Alex to a convention hall gun lovers called paradise.

The convention hall was full of men and a few women browsing the various stalls and displays. It wasn't quite the forest of camo that Alex expected, but it was definitely full of weapons of every kind. Racks upon racks of long guns and pistols lined the walls. Old Civil War and WWII Japanese swords, their blades rusty and scarred from years of neglect, lay across dozens of tables. In the corner, Remington had an impressive display of competitive trap and skeet shooting shotguns. Their prized weapon, a 12-gauge trap gun, intricately decorated with hunting scenes carved into the metal, laid under glass. This deadly piece of artwork was the grand prize in a trap competition coming up later that month.

Alex's icy blue eyes repeatedly swept over the crowd. Conceding that she couldn't see anything from the convention hall's doorway, she reluctantly stepped inside. A vendor immediately spotted her tall, impressive figure and called her over.

"A beautiful woman like you needs protection in the big city, miss," the vendor said as he brought forth a rather large, non-descript looking handbag. "I have just the thing for you."

Alex looked at the handbag and thought it was the most grotesquely unfashionable thing she'd seen outside of the bingo gaming halls her mother used to drag her to when she was a child. "Umm, no thanks. Besides, how do I defend myself with this? Load bricks in it and whack a mugger with it?"

The vendor grinned, "See this compartment?" He ripped open a velcro enclosure to reveal an large empty pouch between the handbag's other compartments. The hidden pouch had small loops set in the side, apparently for extra ammunition. "You tuck your pistol right in here. Ready for any emergency. But it's discreetly hidden away, because, well, someone might get a little excited if you took your checkbook out of your purse and the clerk saw you were packing." He winked at her conspiratorially.

"I see. Is it legal to carry a concealed weapon in this state?" Alex asked.

"Now, I'm no lawyer so I can't tell you what's legal or illegal in any particular state. I sell my wares all over the country and I can't possibly keep up with each state's laws. They're all different, you know. Besides, as an American citizen, you have a constitutional right to bear arms anywhere, anytime. Guns don't kill people; people do. Don't let those damned-tree-hugging-bleeding-heart-liberals tell you otherwise...."

Alex was about to raise her hand to stop the long polemic about the Second Amendment she knew came next, when Xena prompted her to look interested. "Whatever for?" Alex asked in her mind. "This guy's obviously willing to bend the law when it suits him."

"We're looking for a group of outlaws. Follow through and see where he leads," came Xena's unspoken answer.

The vendor chattered on, "....why just last week a little old lady defended her home and her fourteen kids with a AK-47. I have the article about that right here in Guns R Us magazine. Think of the damage she could have done if she was allowed to have a fully automatic weapon and Teflon coated bullets. And look here...."

Alex choked down her rising bile and said, "Okay, how much do you want for the handbag?"

He stopped talking immediately and ran the sums in his head. "$175 for the calf-skin model; $210 for the deer-hide."

Alex said inwardly to Xena, "$175 for a butt-ugly purse. This is coming out of your allowance." To the vendor she said, "I'll take the calf-skin bag, but I need something to put in it. Got any suggestions?"

He looked her over and decided that a woman of Alex's stature could probably handle the kick of any 9mm semi-auto pistol easily. He recommended the latest Glock fitted with laser sights.

"Do you have something more powerful? With a larger clip? And automatic? I just hate having to cock it every single time I want to blow some bastard away." She pasted on a pretty, but completely artificial smile as she batted her eyes at him. "An Uzi would do the trick, don't you think?"

"Ma'am, Uzis are illegal...."

"Are you absolutely sure about that? I thought you didn't know the law." As she dug through her pocketbook for her credit card, she accidentally flashed him several crisp hundred-dollar bills to ensure his continued ignorance.

"I'm not the right person to ask about this. Maybe you should contact my employer, Mr. Smith," he said in a very low voice. "Here's his card."

Alex took the card and examined it before putting it away. Mr. K. Smith and Company, Uniques and Antiques, Specializing in Armory. After the vendor ran through her credit card, she handed over one of those crisp bills. "Keep the change," she said as she left the stall. "Please ask Mr. Smith to leave his appointment calendar open."


Chapter 5: Dreamscape

"We have a lead!" Xena said triumphantly. She waved Mr. Smith's business card in front of Gabrielle's face.

The bard grabbed the flapping card out of Xena's hand and read it quickly. "What makes you think this guy will lead us to Ares? So what if he's an arms dealer."

The warrior visibly sighed, "Gods! How naive can you be? Where do you think those skinheads and right-wing militia types get their high-powered weaponry? Wal-Mart?? I showed you the proof that Ares is leading a militia cell here in Colorado. He has to arm his men somehow. A weapons dealer is the perfect lead."

"Let's say that this Smith fellow leads you to Ares. What then? There's no Eye of Hephaestus to hold him now. Have you thought about that little detail?" Gabrielle pointed out.

That stopped Xena in her tracks. In this world, she was no longer a warrior princess, capable of mustering armies to fight for whatever cause she deemed necessary. Here, she only a voice in Alex's head. As much as she hated to admit it, she could only go as far as Alex would allow her.

"Xena," Gabrielle whispered as she hugged her lover gently. "We're in over our heads here. We need help. I don't know who to ask, but we can't do it ourselves. The civil authorities would never believe in a Greek god come to life, much less plotting the overthrow of their government."

Xena gratefully returned the hug and kissed the top of the bard's head. She silently thanked the gods that Alex's body was taller than Gwen's; at least she could still kiss Gabrielle like she used to. But if only she had the power she once possessed. Xena sighed once more. The bard was right; any help would have to come from a higher authority than the police. "I wonder if the FBI would entertain an email from a half-crazed woman like me." she said out loud.

********

Smith's business card sat undisturbed in Alex's purse for several days after her visit to the gun show. Summer classes were starting in a couple of weeks and she had to prepare a curriculum and reading list for her students. Work completely dominated her every spare minute.

Xena forcefully reminded her of their mission, but Alex countered with the fact *she* paid the bills. Gwen's body still suffered from dizzy spells so Gabrielle couldn't hold a job yet. Besides, without a plan, there wasn't much point in going after Ares right this minute. One skill Xena never developed was the ability to calmly argue her point. That's one reason why she usually chose action over debate. Since Alex would not relinquish control over her body, the old warrior just sat in a corner of her host's mind and stewed.

Alex came home after a long day at work and called out to Gabrielle as usual. No answer came. She wandered into the dark living room to find the furniture overturned and their floppy disks and files ransacked. "Gabrielle!" she called out into the empty room. She didn't expect an answer, but needed to fill the silence with her own voice. She knew Gabrielle was taken and by whom.

She set the overturned wingbacked chair upright and sat heavily down into it. She closed her eyes and rested her head back against the soft cushion. Through years of practice, she calmed her harried mind and entered the meditative state that put her directly into the dreamscape.

She found Xena seated at Gwen's drafting table. The warrior busily sketched out plans for Gabrielle's rescue. Alex approached her ancient ancestor. Sadly, she reached out to Xena and shook her head in resignation. "I'm sorry. I don't understand how this could have happened."

Something in Xena snapped. This fool, her descendant, had given up the fight before the battle even began. She struck out at Alex, slapping her hard across the face. Alex staggered then fell to the floor.

"Don't you understand anything that's going on here??" Xena screamed. "Your hesitancy caused this mess! Smith found our address through your credit card. He moved before we did. Now they have Gabrielle. And all you can do is snivel. Gods, how could you have sprung from my loins?" Xena advanced on her host, bent on releasing all the anger and frustration built up over weeks. She raised her hand and closed it into a fist when another, stronger force, held her fast. "What the...?" She looked over her shoulder and into the stern face of Athena, best known as the Goddess of Wisdom and lesser known as the Goddess of War.

"Xena, look how little you've come in the centuries since Amphipolis." The gray-eyed goddess easily lifted the warrior and placed her gently but firmly back into the high barstool at the drafting table. Then she turned to Alex. She extended her hand to the fallen woman and conjured a comfortable chair for herself and for Alex. "Now that we're all seated and behaving like civilized people, let's talk."

Xena opened her mouth, but closed it, deciding that Athena was here not to listen but tell her something she needed to know. For once in a very long time, Xena listened without judgment. Alex said nothing. The professor of Greek military history was thoroughly in awe of meeting a real live Greek goddess.

"Warrior, do you remember when Cortese first attacked Amphipolis? You defended your home courageously and with great honor. You didn't know it at the time, but you were in my service. If you had continued as a righteous warrior, I would have made you my chosen.

"But somewhere along the way, you lost your purpose. Then you found a new one when you met Caesar and nearly died on his cross. For ten long years, I lost you to Ares. You gave into your hatred, anger, and fear. Ares made you a killer when you could have been a true warrior."

"Gabrielle turned you from Ares' path, but she couldn't teach you how to be a warrior again. That's not her forte. Follow me, Xena. Be my chosen and I will make you the warrior should have been and can be once again." Athena extended her shield, Aegis, and her sword to Xena. "Wear my armor," the goddess said as she removed her helmet and placed it on Xena's head. "Fight Ares with my sword and with Aegis. You can defeat him with my help. Look into the polished surface of the shield. What do you see?"

The warrior looked into the mirrored surface. At first she saw only her intense blue eyes surrounded by a flawless face reflected back at her. Looking closer, deeper, past the shadow of her face, she saw the swirling dark mass of the Void.


Chapter Six: A Family Affair

Her captors did a very thorough job of securing and blindfolding her. Her wrists were cuffed to what felt like a metal pipe. Soft cotton wadding was pressed over each eye and secured in place with an ace bandage wrapped tightly around her head. Gabrielle's growling stomach was the only indication of the passage of time. Judging from the volume and intensity, she figured she was out for a couple of hours at most.

She slept in that morning only to awake to a rough hand smothering her face with a harsh smelling rag. As she lost consciousness, she realized some kind of anesthetic saturated the cloth.

She could overhear the muffled sounds of the men who held her in this dark place. Their voices were low and deep, but not particularly menacing.

"Why is she here? I joined this outfit to kick some butt, not kidnap women."

"Smith wants her and we follow his orders. Got that? All we need to do is keep her until he says otherwise."

Gabrielle knew she safe until this Smith fellow decided what to do with her. All she could do was try to relax and wait for Xena to rescue her. Some things never change. Or do they?

*****************

Meanwhile on Mount Olympus, Artemis found Aphrodite bent over a large bowl full of a silvery reflective liquid. The rim of the bowl was flush with the surface of the table. Upon hearing her sister enter the room, the Goddess of Love greeted Artemis with a gentle kiss on the cheek.

"Arty! Look what Hephaestus gave me," Aphrodite said brightly as she pointed to the bowl of liquid. "It's silver that flows like a liquid." She flicked a drop of the fluid onto the table. The shiny bead adhered tightly to itself, then rolled back toward the main body of liquid like a small weak animal seeking the protection of the herd.

"It's almost like it's alive. Hmmm, quick silver. What's it good for?"

"I use it in my scrying bowl. It helps me visualize the goings on of the mortal world. It has much better reception than plain old water."

Artemis looked over her sister's shoulder and gazed into the fluid's satiny mirrored surface. She saw fleeting images of couples all over the world in various states of intimacy. As Aphrodite focused her attention, the whirling images slowed then stopped on a single couple. Artemis saw a tall dark woman lean in to kiss her lover. The lovers' hands roamed slowly and deliberately as they undressed each other. The Huntress grinned. "Voyeur TV. Is this what you do all day long?"

Aphrodite shrugged her shoulders and said, "It keeps me busy. Besides, why do you care how I conduct my business as long as I stay out of your way?"

"Surely, there's more to what you do than sex."

"Are you asking me if I can make people fall in love? Of course, that's my special power. I can create love where it didn't exist before. I can deepen love that has already taken root," the Goddess said proudly.

"I never thought about it before, 'Dite, but in some ways you're more powerful than any one of us. Think about what mortals will do for love. It's a great motivator. I had to cajole my Chosen to doing my bidding. The Amazons are no longer recognized as a people, even as their legacy still lives on. But for you, love will always be there. You have so much power and responsibility."

"What are you talking about, Arty? All I have to do is sent the right toy box to a needy couple. Or maybe tie a bell around the neck of some fool full of unrequited love. With my minions like Dr. Ruth and Alex Comfort, it's a snap."

Artemis rolled her eyes up toward the ornate ceiling. For a minute there, she thought she was getting across to her ditzy sister. "No, no, no! Don't you get it? It's more than just sex and lust. You have the power of love. Love gives people the strength to accomplish great things. The same force that gentles the powerful emboldens the weak. Your power makes the world go round and you don't even realize it!" Artemis threw her hands up into the air. Why did Athena get all the brains, she thought.

"Hey! That slam was completely uncalled for. Don't you think I know what I'm doing?" Aprhrodite thrust an accusing finger at her sister. "It's the times. Things down there," she pointed into the scrying bowl, "happen so fast anymore. Mortals don't make time for each other. They don't talk to each other. They isolate themselves into a little islands of humanity. How is anyone supposed to fall in love under those conditions?"

"Hey, you're Goddess of Love. You do something about it. Cause right now, mortals are turning their passions toward something as compelling and thrilling as love. You've seen the violence. The insanity. The sheer hatred they can have for each other."

Aphrodite looked away from the bowl and from her sister. "Yes I've glimpsed of it. I can't bear to watch it." She turned back to the bowl and concentrated once more. The multiple images of intertwined couples flitted back into soft focus.

Artemis suddenly ran the tips of her fingers across the surface of the scrying bowl and disrupted the images coming from the world below. Aphrodite looked up at her sister with a questioning annoyance. The Huntress said, "Perhaps it's time you stopped watching and started doing."


Chapter 7: In the Garden of Good and Evil

At Athena's bidding, Xena arrived at the site of the old Elitch Gardens amusement park at dusk. The rides hadn't taken on screaming passengers for a number of years. The metal tracks rusted brown and red from neglect. The trees, bushes, and other landscaping, once meticulously kept, grew wild as the branches and tendrils wove themselves through the manmade trestles and pillars. The unfettered growth overhung the walls surrounding the park and obscured the once colorful signs promising entertainment for the entire family. Nowadays, the gloomy site only enticed a few teenagers looking for something to ease their boredom. The Denver police occasionally shined their spotlights on the outskirts to discourage intruders. But that evening, the cops were nowhere to be seen.

The warrior hammered on the padlocked gate with the hilt of her sword. The padlock remained firmly in place despite the battering. Correction -- it was not really *her* sword. The magnificently wrought weapon was forged from no material known on Earth. Once Xena realized this, she struck the lock with the edge and neatly cleaved it from the chain. No blade of Athena would never sustain a nick or break when struck against ordinary metal. Xena hoisted Aegis into position on her forearm and gently pushed open the gate. She hoped that all the racket she made earlier would not attract attention. She was wrong. A net fell over her as soon as she passed through the entrance. She easily severed the netting and stepped out of the tangle of ropes, right into the circle of Ares' men who quickly surrounded her. Armed with small automatic pistols and Uzis, they fired round after round into her body. None of the slugs could penetrate her armor, which was also forged of the same other-worldly metal as her sword. When the men finally ran out of ammunition, Xena remained standing while the bullets lay deformed and impotent around her feet. She smiled her feral grin that always preceded victory. She leapt into the air and somersaulted onto a platform above the dumbfounded crowd.

A bright light flashing behind Xena prompted her to turnaround and see Ares materialize before her. "About time le Grande Fromage showed," Xena muttered under her breath. She smirked at her bad French.

In the crook of one of his arms was Gabrielle. His other hand held a small sharp knife. Xena looked on in paralyzed horror as he drew a red line across his captive's throat. Blood reddened the front of Gabrielle's pajama top. The knife transformed into a sword with which he casually parried Xena's frenzied blows while he held the bard in his other arm. She could not penetrate his defenses nor could she get close enough to snatch Gabrielle away. He easily fought her to a standstill for the few minutes it took the bard to bleed to death. Once Ares was sure the life-force had drained away completely, he dropped the limp body on the platform and disappeared. He never said a word, not even to taunt Xena. He had no need because he knew he had finally won. He finally broke the spirit of a woman whom he wanted and despised all the same. Ares intended to return and claim his final victory in good time. But for now, he left Xena alone to ponder her defeat.

The vanquished warrior let her sword and shield clatter to the ground. She fell to her knees and hugged her lover's now completely empty shell to her breast. She threw back her head and let loose a howling cry to the heavens, which seemed deaf to her plight. Then she, too, let her spirit leave the Earthly plane in hopes of finding Gabrielle in either Tartarus or Elysia.

Alex found herself suddenly awake again. Xena had left her unconscious during the fight for fear that Alex's conscious presence would slow her down. Fighting was Xena's game and her wimpy host had no business playing. Alex blinked at the cooling body she held in her arms. She stifled a scream when she recognized Gwen's features in the dimming light. She instinctively laid the body flat on its back and began straightening out the clothing. Blood soiled Alex's hands as she tried to smooth the gory flannel. Her mind wandered aimlessly back to their first Christmas in Vancouver when she gave Gwen the red and green plaid jammies. Gwen tried to hide her disappointment with the practical gift. But Alex knew instantly. Now, Alex would never disappoint her again.

"Oh look what you made me do, honey. Now there's blood all over me, too. I'm constantly having to look after you. I just don't understand how you can get into so much trouble. How am I supposed to get you home now? Xena said everything would be all right. That you would be safely home in no time flat. She promised me, Gwen. She promised. They all promised me that you would be with me forever. That I'd never be alone again. They promised. They promised. They promised...." Alex babbled through her tears until she cried her voice thin and ragged. The gods occasionally intervene at times like this to make what went wrong right again. But this time, the gods were nowhere to be seen.


Chapter 8: Dallas

In the invisible realm of Mount Olympus, three weird sisters spun their web one more time.

"Was all that blood and gore really necessary?? Sis, you made a mess of my favorite couple!" Aphrodite pouted.

Athena hugged her sister goddess around the shoulders and said, "Now look, you know that was all part of the plan. I've done my part. Xena is finally out of Alex's body. Gabrielle and Gwen are separated, too. If and when Ares returns, he will realize fairly quickly that Alex is no longer Xena's host and he will leave her alone, too."

"But Gwen is dead..." Artemis protested.

"Don't worry about it, dear. Ares has no reason to further imprison Gwen's soul." Athena shrugged her shoulders. "And, dead doesn't mean squat in our Universe."

"Oh yeah, I forgot *that* rule."

Athena turned her attention to Aphrodite. "It's time to do your duty. What was a kindness you bestowed upon them centuries ago is now a curse. Undo what was done. Unmake the spell."

The Goddess of Love drew the other goddesses around a pair of mirrors set upon a stone pedestal. "This is sooo cool. I have to tell you how this works."

"That isn't really necessary," Artemis said.

"Hey, I'm really proud of this idea and since I have to undo it, you're gonna hear about it. The spell that kept my girls coming back again and again in the bodies of their descendents is powered by these mirrors. See how the mirrors face each other so they reflect infinite copies of each other's image? Get it? Infinity?"

"Yes, we understand how it works. Now make it STOP!" Athena said.

"All I have to do is pull one of the mirrors away so it can't reflect the other. Like this." Aphrodite removed one of the mirrors and placed it face down on the pedestal. Athena reached out with a tiny hammer and smashed the glass into thousands of irretrievable shards.

"Hey, you didn't have to do that!" Aphrodite cried out. "Don't you trust me to keep up my end of the bargain?"

"No, I don't trust you. Xena and Gabrielle have been running the lives of their descendents for a long time. We're all used to the status quo. It's hard to break the habit; so I broke the mirror. What we're doing is the right thing for everyone. Every soul ought to enter the world below without carrying someone else's baggage," Athena said.

"But wasn't it ever so cool when Xena came back as a samurai warlord or that Gaelic rogue who stole from the rich and gave to the poor?" Aphrodite sighed, "So romantic. I can't tell you how hot she was as a firefighter."

"The first time Xena was a prison warden was fine. But after the umpteenth iteration of good girl gone bad and then good again, arrgh! What has Xena become but an old dog who can't learn new tricks? And Gabs always coming back as this sniveling wimpy thing waiting for Xena to save her. Sheesh." Artemis sneered. "*She* was the Amazon Queen, dammit!"

"Ladies, ladies, ladies! Breaking the cycle of violence and heartache is the right thing to do," Athena interjected. "More importantly, anything that deters our dear brother Ares from his single minded pursuit of Xena and all the problems that obsession causes has got to be a good idea. Xena returning to Earth over and over again only put mortals in danger whenever Ares hatched one of his plans to bring back her into the fold."

"Too bad Alex and Gwen had to suffer so much before we figured out how to break the cycle," Artemis said.

"I think I can fix that. I have to take a shower first," Aphrodite said.

"Why?" Athena asked.

"Because that's the way my spells work!" Aphrodite said. "If I had my way, every important decision would be made while showering."

"'Dite, you can only be so blonde." Artemis rolled her eyes so much in her sister's presence she was dizzy.

"Do you want me to fix it so Alex and Gwen have their free will or not? It's not like this whole scheme was my idea anyway. You two dragged me into this!" Aphrodite said.

Athena threw up her hands and relented. "Fine, do whatever it is you need to do. Just make sure that their relationship, if it happens at all, is of their own choosing. No more interference from Xena, from Gabrielle, from any of us."

"By the way, will the blood innocence conundrum ever be resolved?" Artemis asked.

"Oh, you mean that pacifist kick that Gabby was always chirping about?"

"Unfortunately, yes. I never could understand how my Chosen could be so impractical," Artemis said.

"I'm a goddess, Arty, not a philosopher," Aphrodite said. "I haven't the foggiest notion what the answer is and I bet neither do you, smarty-pants. All I know is that Gabs is an idealist who means well. Any more questions?" The other goddesses shook their heads. "After I finish my shower, it will be as if none of this ever happened. It will be up to them to decide if they are meant to be together. Alex and Gwen will be just like every other mortal couple that graced the good Earth."

A steady stream of water could be heard flowing in the background. "That's my cue. Later, gaters." Aphrodite's eyes darted around the room. "Now, where did Hephy hide the loofah?"


Chapter 9: Winter, 1997 - Denver International Airport

Alex threw down her heavy carryon bag in one seat and plopped herself down in the other. She let her bottom slide forward on the slick vinyl until she could rest the nape of her neck comfortably on the padded back of the waiting lounge chair. She sat there resting her eyes with her long legs thrust out in front of her and crossed demurely at the ankles. She knew Momma wouldn't approve of her unladylike way of sitting, but she was too tired to care. Her tiredness earned her the right to slouch. The sounds of CNN on the TV monitor suspended from the ceiling gently lulled her into a light sleep. She was glad that she arranged for the Chevy Blazer at the last minute. The CNN weather reported heavy snowfalls between Bellingham and Vancouver. The last thing she wanted was to be stuck in the middle of snowstorm by herself. She could completely relax now that her own flight plans were finally straightened out. She rarely missed flights, but with a huge traffic snarl on I-25, she couldn't help it.

Now if only that annoyingly loud woman at the Customer Service counter would just shut up, Alex thought. She cracked open an eye and tracked the voice to its owner. A short woman with mousy brown hair stood on tiptoes so she could more emphatically lean over the counter. Alex watched her pull credit card after credit card from her pocketbook only to stuff them back in again. She heard the woman plead to be let on the same plane as her luggage. The Customer Service agent only shook her head no each time.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Covington, but I can't let you on that plane without a boarding pass. One more flight leaves this evening in another half-hour. I can put you on that one. The next flight after that leaves in the morning. What will it be, miss?"

Geez, the poor thing is in the same boat I was in only an hour or so ago, Alex thought. Whether out of pure empathy or desire for a little adventure, she didn't know for sure, but she suddenly found herself straightening up and calling out "Hey! You there! Can I help you?" The woman turned to look in her direction. Alex smiled and waved back.


Finis

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