I didn't start breathing properly until we were half a mile down the road. I spotted a discarded McDonald's Happy Meal container and felt strangely comforted. That was the kind of evil I was used to.

"So where are we headed?" I asked, turning to Xena, who had paused and stood silently next to me.

She was looking west, where the sun was setting behind the Golden Gate Bridge. The sky was a breathtaking explosion of pink and red and orange. The light seemed to bathe Xena and she glowed like the angel I originally thought she was.

"Beautiful," I whispered in awe.

She glanced down at me and a look of regret crossed her features. She quickly replaced it with a reassuring smile, but for a moment I felt a strange sensation – like when something hits that dangling thing at the back of your throat. I nearly gagged, but the feeling disappeared before I could figure out what the hell was going on.

"Did you say something?" Xena asked.

She must have meant before "beautiful". I tried to remember.

"Oh, yeah…um…where are we headed?"

"Well…" she said, considering. "I suppose we should go to Derek's apartment. He'll have to come home eventually."

"At the very least, he'll have to change his underwear," I agreed.

Xena did the eyebrow lift.

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing." She lowered the eyebrow. "Anyway, after spending most of the afternoon at that hostel, I sure don't look forward to spending the night there."

I groaned when I pictured us watching infomercials all night.

Xena peered around, and then a lazy grin spread across her face. She nodded down the hill. I looked in the direction she indicated with her head and saw a large house with a balcony and several comfortable looking pieces of patio furniture.

"Fancy sleeping under the stars tonight?" she asked.

"Won't we get cold?"

"Well, are you cold now?"

I pondered this, and realized that I was quite comfortable. "No," I replied.

"So you haven't drawn any conclusions from the fact that everyone is walking around in winter coats and you're just wearing a t-shirt?"

I looked down. I still had on what I'd been wearing when I had the accident – sneakers, jeans, and a t-shirt that read, "La, La, La - I can't hear you - La, La, La."

"You mean I won't be cold ever again? I won't have to wear socks to bed? I won't have to wear sweaters ten months of the year? I won't have girlfriends shout, 'Get those freezing hands away from me, you freak of nature'?"

"Um…no," Xena said, trying to figure out if they were rhetorical questions.

"Yes! God finally gets something right," I said, pumping my fist in the air.

We moved down the hill. I managed to stub my toe and Xena grabbed my arm to steady me. I was hoping that I'd start floating ethereally, but I still seemed to clamber as much as I did when I was alive. I kept my hand on her arm. Xena seemed to be the only thing I could actually grab and hold on to, so I found myself touching her more than I normally would. Well, that's my story and I'm sticking to it. It had nothing to do with her warm, supple, strong, luscious…erm, yeah, anyway….

On the patio were two chaise lounges made of sturdy redwood with nice thick cushions. I claimed one and Xena pulled the other one right up next to me. They had no arms, so when they came together we were only inches apart with no barrier between us. I guess she wanted to be close enough to talk. I wasn't going to object to the arrangement.

"So what's our plan for tomorrow?" I asked, putting my interlocked fingers behind my head and watching the last of the light leave the sky.

"We need to get an early start," Xena explained. She paused and gave me a quirky smile. "Waking you up will be our first challenge of the day."

"Not a problem," I said firmly. "I'm on a mission."

"Uh huh…we'll see."

"Yes we will," I said with a confident smile. "So, first thing at Derek's apartment. Then what?"

"Well, he's got to show up eventually. Then we follow him."

"Right, good plan so far," I said, nodding my head. "I can do following. Being invisible helps a lot. And then…?"

"And then…" Xena's voice faded away. This was not good. The plan crashed to the ground, making a pathetic squawking sound.

"You have no plan," I accused.

"I just haven't worked out the details," Xena protested.

"OK, give me the Reader's Digest version."

Xena raised an ebony eyebrow and narrowed her crystal blue eyes.

"Oh no, Xena, you can't distract me with your intimidating facial expressions. I'm immune." I sighed dramatically. "You don't have a plan. Admit it."

"I'll figure it out as I go along," Xena grumbled.

"That is just so comforting," I grumbled back sarcastically.

"Look, he had the girl – our descendent – but to complete the sacrifice, he obviously needs these things he's collecting."

"You mean the Gabrobilia?"

Some of the grumble left Xena's face.

"Yes," she said. "With you out of the picture, it must be important that he set up the shrine to you."

"With me 'out of the picture'? Nice euphemism."

All of the grumble left Xena's face and the corner of her mouth twitched.

"So," Xena continued, "since the girl is probably safely tucked away somewhere now, what we need to do is focus on Derek and his collection. We need to somehow distract him, or get some of the pieces away from him, or something. I should have thought and grabbed the stuff we saw already on the altar."

"I don't think that would have been a very good idea," I said, shivering at the memory of the basement. "All I did was make a crack about the gateway to hell and look what happened."

"Well, what's done is done. We'll have to concentrate on the stuff Derek is going to pick up tomorrow."

"What kinds of things do you think he's getting? What's left that has any meaning?" I asked. I was curious about the life I was trying so hard to remember.

"Hmmm," Xena pondered, "let's see…a frying pan, a pink nightie, a kite, every rock and seashell you decided to pick up for no apparent reason, a couple of small green bras—"

"Whoa – green bras?" I had a quick memory of dressing, pulling on a bilious green-colored object. I closed my eyes and tried to shake the memory away. "No, I don't want to know."

"I thought they were kind of cute," Xena said with a broad grin.

I gave her a baleful look and changed the subject. "I guess we'll just have to wait and see what new Gabrielle souvenirs Derek brings home."

"Mmm," Xena murmured. "We'll figure everything out, don't worry."

She tilted her head back against the cushion and looked up at the stars, which were just beginning to show in the twilight.

"It's a beautiful night," she said, a dreamy smile crossing her face.

"Yeah, it's really clear," I agreed. There was no fog and only a few clouds at the horizon, which had made the sunset so amazing. A wind had cleaned the air and was making the stars twinkle. We lay there in comfortable silence as night fell and the constellations became discernable.

"I can see Orion," I said, pointing to the star pattern. Xena drew in a startled breath and I looked over at her in confusion.

She appeared disconcerted for a moment, but then grinned broadly. "The hunter, my favorite," she said. She pointed to a cluster to Orion's right. "What do you think that bunch looks like?"

I peered at it and tilted my head in different directions. "A woman's breasts." I finally declared. "What do you think it looks like?"

"A cannon," Xena replied with a twinkle in her eye.

"Well, that about sums up our world views," I said, chuckling. Xena joined in.

"Do you remember when – " her words abruptly stopped. She looked at me with such a heartrending expression it left me breathless. I looked down at my hands and fiddled with a thread on my t-shirt.

"I'm sorry," she whispered miserably. "It just reminded me of how it used to be; I forgot."

"You don't need to apologize," I said, still pulling at the thread. "I'm the one at fault. I should be apologizing to you."

"You are not at fault, Gabrielle," Xena said forcefully. She reached over and ran her hand up and down my forearm. Her warm palm caused goose bumps to cover my arm. "You're trying. I know this isn't easy for you."

I forced myself to meet her eyes. "Xena, are you sure – absolutely sure – that I am who you think I am?"

"Of course," she said, sounding horrified that I'd doubt it.

"I just don't know…"

"You have remembered some things, haven't you?" Xena asked, a glimmer of suspicion in her eyes.

"Yeah…I think so," I replied hesitantly. "I mean…maybe."

The memories had been so vague, though. They say that dreams are really just flashes of color and sound, and our brains put them together into a logical pattern. I wondered if maybe my brain was creating these memories from suggestions – things that Xena was saying, things that I wanted to be true.

I looked at the misery on Xena's face. She had lost her best friend, her soulmate. Best-case scenario: I was Gabrielle but didn't have her memories. Worst case: I just bore a striking resemblance to Gabrielle. Either way, I walked in Xena's lover's body but I wasn't her lover, and I reminded her of that nearly every moment I was near her.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. I could feel tears fill my eyes and I hoped it was dark enough that she wouldn't see.

"Please don't cry," she whispered back. I should have known she had preternatural vision.

I tried to sniff the tears back, but that only managed to dislodge one, and it dribbled down my cheek. Xena reached out and caught it, letting her hand linger on my face, stroking with her thumb. Her thumb was callused, and the hard, rough skin felt wonderful against the softness of my cheek.

"Come here," she said, reaching her arm around my shoulders and pulling me gently toward her. I didn't need any prompting; I quickly scooted over until I was on her lounge chair. I snuggled close, tucking my head against her shoulder and wrapping an arm around her middle. She leaned her head on top of mine and I could feel her breath moving my hair slightly.

It felt…wonderful. Like I was in a warm room, sitting in front of an open fire, drinking a glass of brandy. I closed my eyes and let the feeling wash over me and fill me with comfort.

I looked up and dove into her clear blue eyes. It felt like swimming in the Caribbean. She looked back at me and slowly leaned down. I held my breath while she brushed her lips softly against mine.

The most beautiful woman I had ever known was kissing me. But there was something wrong. Something was nagging me at the back of my mind. I felt as if I was in that cozy room, but off to the side of the room was a closed door. I knew that there was something horrible behind that door – something that I didn't want to face, something that I'd locked up a long time ago. I tried to ignore it, to turn away, but it stayed in my field of vision. As I held tighter to Xena, the door began to shake in its frame, and the handle began to turn.

I stifled a gasp and pulled out of Xena's embrace. The warmth disappeared immediately, and an icy breeze blew over me. So much for not feeling cold.

"I can't," I said morosely. "I'm sorry."

"It's all right," Xena said, holding onto my arm. "Just sleep. Don't think about Gabrielle or Derek or me. Just close your eyes."

Her voice was hypnotic and I desperately missed the warmth that I had found in her arms. I allowed myself to be pulled back into her embrace. Quickly, I felt my eyelids grow heavy.

"I love you," I heard Xena whisper, as I drifted off to sleep.

I was having the strangest dream. I was a mermaid, with a tail and everything. Except, when I was out of the water I had legs. And I had three fishy children who tried to kill me. And a husband who looked just like a guy who had a crush on me in high school.

It wasn't a happy dream but it was strangely fascinating, and when I felt something poking my side, I tried to ignore it and stay in the dream world.

It didn't work.

Warrior Princesses have very nasty, pointy fingers.

"Come on, wake up," Xena growled.

I moaned and rolled over. I thought I was out of finger-poking range. I was wrong.

"Hey, Allison, don't you remember The Mission?" She shouted the last two words very loudly in my ear.

I mumbled something that I hoped sounded like "yes, I'm awake" but probably sounded more like "yish em uhwik".

"Come on Allison. Jeez, it's like trying to wake the dead." She chortled. "Get it – wake the dead?"

I pried open one eyelid and glared at her. "You know, Xena, your little quips about being dead are not amusing."

"I thought it was hilarious."

I sat up and ran my fingers through my short red-blonde hair. "God, I need a shower."

"No you don't. You can't really get dirty when you're dead. Oops, I used the 'd' word again."

I scowled at her, even though I was pleased that I wasn't starting to stink. "It's not all about dirt; it's about getting all warm and soapy."

Xena raised her eyebrows lasciviously. I ignored her and decided to put "no showers" on my list of things to talk to God about.

"Get up, we're burning daylight," Xena said, clapping her hands together loudly.

"Xena, there's no daylight to burn. It's still the middle of the night." I moaned and tried to get my body to follow basic instructions. My hands seemed to have a strange fascination with rubbing my face, and my legs seemed to want to go in different directions. I was suspicious of them due to their mutiny the day before.

"If Derek is flying back today, and he's got things to do," Xena explained, "then he'll probably be on the earliest flight."

"Which, I would assume, is not dark o'clock in the friggin' morning," I growled.

"Well, we can't risk that." She reached down and grabbed an arm, hoisting me up. She took hold of my other arm, her fingers warm around my wrist.

"Let's pop," she said abruptly.

"No, Xena, I—"

Popping was a horrendous experience. It made you feel like you were turned inside out for a moment. You were taken apart and put back together, and afterward you hoped that all of the pieces were where they should be. Under the best of circumstances, popping was unpleasant. Popping right after waking up was hell.

"Fucking goddamn shit!" I cried when we'd popped in the middle of Derek's apartment. "You could have warned me."

"It's like pulling a Band-Aid off," Xena declared. "You've got to do it fast or it'll hurt worse."

"It hurt enough, thanks," I said, rubbing my jaw and making sure my teeth were all there. I swore I heard my organs squelch into place. I sat down on Derek's futon and thought about going back to sleep.

Xena began to pace. She was ready for action. I had a feeling it was going to be a long morning, and if I had to watch her pacing for another five minutes I'd go insane. I decided to go for a diversionary tactic.

"So, Xena, I've been thinking…" She didn't stop her pacing, but she turned to listen.

"Maybe if I tried to remember some of my other lives," I continued, "I might make more progress in the whole memory department."

That stopped her in her tracks. She pondered that for a while.

"Tell me about my other lives," I prompted.

"Well," she said slowly, "you were always a fighter."

"Like a soldier?" I asked, picturing myself carrying a crossbow or a musket.

"Sometimes," Xena said. "But usually just a scrappy, mouthy, fighter for justice and freedom and the greater good."

Now she had a brilliant smile on her face.

"So was I Catherine the Great, Amelia Earhart, Marie Curie?"

"No, you weren't anyone that you've read about in history books. But they should have written about you."

I grinned. I couldn't remember my past lives, but her pride sent a shot of warmth through me, like drinking hot chocolate on a cold winter's day.

"What about you?" I asked. "I suppose you were Joan of Arc or something."

Xena smiled and blushed slightly.

"Get out!" I cried. "You were fucking Joan of Arc?"

"I wasn't fucking Joan of Arc, I was Joan of Arc," she admitted.

I got a mental picture of Xena in chain mail fasting and praying to the Virgin Mary. "Forgive me, but I just don't see you as the visionary type."

"It's a long story," Xena said, blushing even more. "Things didn't go exactly as I had planned."

"I guess not," I said. "You were burned at the stake. That had to hurt."

"I'd rather not talk about it," Xena said, looking away in embarrassment.

"You mean you'd rather not talk about your DEATH?" I said, grinning gleefully. "Gee, why wouldn't you want to talk about DYING?"

"OK, point taken," Xena said with a pout.

"Sorry, I won't mention DEATH any more."

"Allison."

"I wouldn't want to bore you to DEATH with the topic."

"Allison." She gave me a look that meant if I said another word I might be facing my second death, so I decided to change the subject.

"Did we know each other in every lifetime?" I asked.

Xena waited for the "d" word, and when she didn't hear it, she finally relaxed.

"Not every one, but most," she replied, growing pensive. "Our lives are like two strings braided together to form a rope. I don't know why; it's just the way it is."

"Have we spoken together before, between lives? You know – compared notes, asked why we did stuff, bitched at each other?"

"No, never," Xena replied. "This is a special circumstance."

I sighed, thinking about the "special circumstance." I still didn't feel up to the task of destroying this evil entity.

"Don't worry," Xena said, apparently reading my mind. "You'll do fine. You always do."

"I wish I was as confident as you are."

"Just remember to never lock your knees and always roll when you fall," Xena advised.

"Are those your top pointers for surviving a fight?" I asked, trying to memorize her words.

"No, my advice for skiing," Xena said with a straight face.

"Hardy-har-har."

*

We spent the morning playing word games. Xena had a fondness for Twenty Questions. I urged her to play Charades, but she said she always hated the game.

By noon there was no Derek, and I felt our plan crumble like a stale Ritz cracker.

"I don't think he's going to show," I finally said.

Xena looked around dismayed.

"I thought my underwear-changing theory was sound, but I guess not," I said glumly.

"Damn!" she cried, standing up and moving to the closet. She flung open the doors. There was one shirt and one pair of pants hanging neatly from two hangers. She moved to the dresser and pulled open the drawers, examining the contents. I came up next to her and looked as well – one pair of socks and one pair of underwear.

"That's weird," I commented. "Derek always seemed so clean. No one can live with just one extra pair of underwear."

"We'll discuss your obsession with Derek's underwear in a minute," Xena said. "Look over here."

She started opening up cupboards and the refrigerator. We did a quick inventory: one can of Campbell's Cream of Mushroom soup, half a box of Chips Ahoy cookies, two rubbery carrots, a yam, and a can of caffeine-free Diet Coke.

"Well, he is a bachelor," I mused.

Xena ran off toward the bathroom. She opened the cupboard under the sink. It was empty.

"No toilet paper," she said triumphantly.

"Maybe it was time for a shopping trip."

"Gab-Allison," Xena stuttered, "he doesn't live here. He just has a few things here to make it look like he does."

"I don't get it," I said, trying to capture the theory that Xena was throwing around haphazardly.

"He probably lives in some plush penthouse somewhere. He wanted the world to think he was this poor guy living like a monk using all of his money to save those less fortunate. And the whole time he was living it up somewhere. I should have guessed. I was so stupid."

She started pacing again – this time much more frantically.

"Xena, calm down," I said, catching her and holding on. She took me with her for a few steps, before my added weight dragged her to a halt. "We'll just have to figure out Plan B."

"I've lost my touch," she said with an anguished expression. "I used to be able to defeat the bad guys with no plan at all. Now I have to resort to B planning."

"You're just a little rusty," I said, patting her arm. "You'll get back into the swing of it."

"I've got to think, got to figure this out." Xena buried her fingers in her long ebony hair and started to tug.

"Hey, you're gonna end up looking like a banshee, for goodness sake."

She looked at me with a curious expression on her face and then shook her head. She pulled her fingers out of her hair reluctantly.

"We just need to calm down and think this through," I continued. It was time to try on my scrappy, mouthy, fighter persona.

"We have to figure out where Derek is," Xena said. Her eyes narrowed as she concentrated fiercely. It was kind of scary.

"Those guys yesterday said he needed to pick up a big shipment today," I said. I narrowed my eyes too, but I knew from experience and the mirror that I didn't look scary. More like constipated.

"Exactly!" Xena exclaimed. "So if he's expecting a shipment, we need to get to the docks."

"Xena, hello," I said. "We're in the twenty first century here. Shipments don't come on ships any more. I think the airport is a better bet."

"Oh great, so we have to figure out which airport, and even then he may not actually go to the airport to pick it up." She paused and looked at me. "You know where we have to go."

"Don't say what I think you're going to say." I groaned and put my hands over my ears. She waited, doing the single eyebrow lift. Reluctantly, I lowered my hands.

"He's got to deliver his stuff to the altar. It's better if we wait there for him."

"I knew you were going to say that."

I needed chocolate. Badly.

"Allison, stop it," Xena said, her eyes narrowing in warning.

I finally realized that Xena called me Allison when she was pissed off or when I was screwing up.

"Stop what?"

Xena had grabbed my forearms and was attempting to pop back to the mansion. So far, except for a few seconds of a strange lurching feeling, we'd gone nowhere.

"Whatever you're doing, it's preventing us from popping," Xena explained, her voice brittle with irritation. "So stop it, and let's go. We don't have time to mess around."

"I'm not doing anything," I snapped. "Why does everything always have to be my fault?"

I felt a little bad about saying that, since Xena had never accused me of anything before, but I was in a bad mood. I didn't want to go anywhere near that friggin' castle again.

"Everything is not your fault," Xena snapped back. "Quit acting like a petulant teenager."

"Quit treating me like one then," I said. Again, she hadn't really been treating me like a petulant teenager. I was beginning to think that some unresolved angst was leaking from someone else's psyche.

Xena glared for a moment, and then took a deep breath.

"Allison," she said, maintaining a calm, steady tone, "we can't pop if one of us doesn't want to go where we need to go. I have a feeling that might be you."

She waited for my grudging nod. Sometimes it's hard to admit you're scared shitless.

"I know you're frightened," she said. "But I swear I won't let anything happen to you. Trust me."

I looked at her, letting my eyes roam over her body. She had obvious strength – well-defined muscles in her arms, legs, and abdomen. But there was an inner power as well. I knew that even if her body failed, her sheer willpower would conquer all obstacles.

"I trust you," I said, taking her arms again.

We popped into the forecourt of the castle. I bit down on the oogey feeling and managed not to squeal obscenities.

"How close do we need to get?" I asked, dreading the answer. I was already peering over my shoulder to make sure nothing was sneaking up behind me.

"Closer than this," Xena replied. "There may be a back way in."

I followed her into the castle reluctantly. There were even more people around than there had been the day before. The preparations for the social event of the year had become even more frenetic. We made our way to the large banquet hall, where several technicians were working on the lights.

Xena started across the floor, and I grabbed her hand to stop her.

"This is close enough, isn't it?" I asked, trying to sound reasonable rather than desperately terrified.

"I didn't get a good look around last time," Xena said, her eyes conveying an apology. "There might be another way into the basement that I didn't see the first time."

I wanted to argue with her, but I realized I couldn't be sure either.

"We can't afford to miss Derek now," she said. "I'm sorry, sweetheart."

She hadn't called me "sweetheart" since the night of my accident, before she realized I didn't have Gabrielle's memories. I felt the same tingle I felt then. It gave me just enough strength to let her hand go. She ran her fingers softly down my arm and I felt as if a current of electricity had shot through my body. She led the way through the little door, and I followed her carefully down the steps.

"You're going to have to give me enough space to lift my feet," she said. OK, I was latched onto her as tight as a barnacle on a derelict ship. Did I mention I was a little scared?

"Sorry," I whispered, backing off a millimeter. I still held onto the belt loops of her Levi's. "Where are we going?"

Please don't say "all the way down", I screamed in my head.

"All the way down," Xena whispered back.

Shit! I screamed even louder.

"We'll stay right by the stairs," Xena added.

"Oh, you bet your sweet, tight ass we will," I replied. I could feel her hips move with her soft chuckle. Joking in the face of terror was one of my specialties. Of course, I couldn't remember ever being quite that terrified before. Even my ninth grade math teacher didn't scare me as much – and that's saying a lot.

When we reached the bottom, Xena moved around the base of the steps. She couldn't turn the lights on, or Derek would become suspicious when he arrived. It didn't really matter, because this time there was a red glow coming from the hole behind the altar, faintly lighting the huge space. The reflections of flames danced on the walls. I had always been so comforted by firelight. Now, I'd never look at a Duraflame log the same way again.

We sat down on the floor to wait. I was glad I couldn't feel the cold stone beneath my butt. My insides were already cold enough. I leaned against Xena, and sucked her warmth like a leech. She didn't seem to mind.

"How long do you think—" I stopped when I heard the door opening far above us.

"To wait?" Xena asked. "I'm guessing not long."

I somehow managed to smile. God, I was a tough cookie.

We listened to the sound of footsteps clumping down the stairs. It sounded like more than one set, and that theory was soon proved right when several voices drifted down.

"Slow down, shithead," a man's voice said loudly.

"I can't go any slower unless I stop," another voice said.

"Whatever you do, don't drop it." That was Derek's voice.

I know that Xena had told me over and over that Derek was the embodiment of evil. But at that moment, hearing his voice, I was sure she was making a huge mistake. It was just Derek getting ready for his big party. He would raise lots of money for a very worthy cause, and then spend the rest of his life doing more very worthy things in a generally worthy manner. He wasn't evil; he was the most genuinely good person I'd ever known.

The men soon came into view. Derek led the way, carrying a small wooden box. He cradled it under his arm, taking great care with it. Two men followed, holding a larger cardboard box between them. Their box didn't appear heavy, but it was an awkward size, and one of the men had to walk backward down the steps.

Derek was good looking in a sort of "I've been through hell, and I need someone to take care of me" kind of way. He had gentle eyes, which could sparkle with happiness but held an inner pain. His hair was tawny, and slightly longer than was fashionable. It gave him a mysterious, timeless look. He was tall and muscular. He'd once told me that he kept his body so fit because he owed it for years of abuse. I thought that was very noble.

Xena and I watched as Derek and the two men walked toward the altar. The men didn't seem intimidated by the stone structure, so they must have already been down there. You just couldn't walk straight up to the thing for the first time without at least standing and staring for a little bit.

Derek put the smaller box down and then went to the larger one. He motioned the men aside and pulled out a box cutter. He slit the cardboard and pushed the flaps back, then reached in and started pulling things out.

"Scrolls," Xena whispered. "I should have guessed."

She was right; they appeared to be rolled pieces of parchment. I'd once attended a wedding where the bride and groom read their vows from scrolls tied with pink silk ribbon. The silk ribbon matched the bridesmaids' dresses. But that's neither here nor there.

Derek pulled out about a dozen scrolls and laid them carefully on the altar.

"Now go," he said, waving his hand at the men, who had been standing around doing nothing. "Take that." He kicked the empty box toward them.

I thought it would have been easier to just throw the box into the hole behind the altar, but I guess it would have been disrespectful to treat the gateway to hell as a giant incinerator.

The men hustled away quickly, apparently relieved to be released. I heard their footsteps clattering back up the steps and, after awhile, the door close. But my attention was firmly fixed on Derek.

He had an intense look on his face. It reminded me of the times he spoke about his mission – his hopes and dreams to save those less fortunate. When he had that expression on his face, he looked like he could make anything possible. His intensity had always filled me with resolve – with a feeling that I could also make a difference.

He turned to the small wooden box and opened it. He took something out, lifting it to his lips and kissing it reverently. I peered closer. It was a dagger. I wasn't close enough to make out details, but the firelight reflected off the blade.

I took two steps forward. I'm not sure why. Those damn treasonous legs again. I heard a strange buzz in my head, like a million bees singing to their queen. Suddenly, I seemed to be above my body, watching myself walking forward like a marionette.

Derek turned around slowly, still holding the dagger. It caught the light again, and this time I thought I saw blood dripping from it. I seemed to snap back into my body just as his eyes locked on mine. I froze.

"Allison," he said. He flashed what I had always thought of as a sweet smile; now, it was menacing - like a cat that had cornered a mouse. "I can see you, you know."

I heard Xena whisper "No", and out of the corner of my eye I saw her lunge toward me. There was a split second to wonder why she was pouncing on me before visions exploded in my brain.

A neighbor kid had once shot me with a b-b gun. It hurt – a lot. The images hit me with that same vicious sting. They came fast, and they were sharp and clear, like looking at pictures through a viewfinder.

Blood and gore covering my hands.

Fire penetrating my soul.

Screaming in childbirth.

A child dying by my hand.

Falling into a burning pit.

I didn't feel Xena's arms around my waist, and I don't remember popping. But I do remember Derek's laughter. It wasn't human.

*

The first thing I was conscious of was Xena's hand stroking sweaty hair off my forehead. My head hurt and I felt sick. That sounds so innocuous, doesn't it? It could have been the answer to a lot of different questions – like: how did you feel after you drank eleven shots of tequila? Or, how did you feel after you rode the teacups at Disneyland five times in a row?

"Can you throw up when you're dead?" I mumbled. She didn't say anything, but quickly moved a large bowl under my head. I answered my own question in a truly spectacular manner.

"Just take it easy," Xena murmured. "I've got you."

She held me from behind and let my head hang down, as another spasm gripped my insides and I sold some more Buicks.

"How is this possible, if I can't eat or drink?" I moaned.

"It's not, actually," she said, rubbing my back in soft circles.

"This is just a figment of my imagination?"

"No, it's a psychic reaction. It's real for you."

"Hang on, I think it's time for some psychic dry heaves now."

*

"Well, that could have gone better," I said some time later, when my stomach had finally decided to play quietly in the corner.

"I'm so sorry," Xena said.

I looked up and winced at the misery on her face.

"It wasn't your fault," I said. "Besides, it could have been worse. At least we weren't burned at the stake."

She jerked with a half-chuckle.

"How do you do that?" she asked

"Do what?"

"Keep your sense of humor even when you feel so bad."

"I don't know; it's just the way I am." I paused. "See, I don't always keep my sense of humor. That wasn't funny at all." I tried to smile, but it took too much effort, so I gave up halfway through.

"You don't have to be brave all the time, you know." She ran her fingers through my hair, scratching my scalp lightly. It was heaven.

"I'm never brave," I grumbled. "That's the problem."

"Oh, you're wrong my bard. You're so very, very wrong."

I closed my eyes and remembered standing in a grove of trees. A group of dirty, smelly men were standing in front of me. To my rear, my mom, sister, and several other people stood cowering.

The leader was saying something about hacking us to pieces. I jumped forward.

"You're the bravest person I've ever known," Xena said, massaging the muscles in my shoulders. I relaxed into her touch and let sleep take me away for a while.

*

I woke up in Xena's arms. That was the bright spot in my otherwise horrendous existence. I felt like I had a fifty-pound hard hat on my head, and men were hitting it with ball-peen hammers. I swallowed and felt the rawness of my throat – ravaged by my psychic puking. Every muscle ached – even the one that makes your thumb go around in a circle.

Christ, I needed a vacation. I wondered whether God was powerful enough to stop time for a week or so in order for me to go somewhere tropical. I was sure I'd feel much better about facing pure evil when I was relaxed and had a nice tan.

I sighed and looked around. It was the middle of the night and we were in my bedroom again. But it was different. The room was filled with boxes. I peered at the one nearest. Printed on the top in black magic marker was the word "Linens." The box next to it read "Books – Fiction." Thank god Emily had cleared out my stuff or there'd be a box labeled "Paraphernalia - Lesbian".

Jeez, my parents didn't waste any time. I'm sure my mom was already organizing the garage sale. She'd be trying to get some of the other neighbors in on it. She said you always got more customers if the little cardboard sign said "Eight Family Garage Sale". Maybe one of the other neighbors had a dead daughter with a nice set of dishes and a few good pieces of crystal.

I snorted, but it turned into a groan. I felt Xena's arms tighten around me.

"Hey," she whispered. "You OK?"

I nodded once. It was all I could manage.

"How do you feel?" she asked.

"Like leftover Chinese food – limp, soggy, and all congealed together. But stick me in the microwave for a few minutes, and I'll be as good as new."

She smiled and brushed the hair out of my eyes. Her touch worked better than the microwave.

"What time is it?" I asked. I looked for my clock, but realized that it was packed away.

"The middle of the night," Xena replied.

"Shouldn't we be doing something?" I asked. Moving from Xena's arms was the last thing I wanted to do, but I felt like I should sound enthused.

"We have all day to stop the ascension," Xena replied.

"Speaking of which," I said, "you can say 'I told you so' now if you want."

"OK. I told you so."

"You weren't really supposed to say it." I glared at her.

"Why did you tell me I could?" She teased back.

"Xena, I can't handle feisty." I closed my eyes and let me head loll against her shoulder.

"I'm sorry."

"Oh, Christ, I can't handle pity either. I'd rather go back to feisty."

"How about resolute?" I peeked at her. She clenched her jaw and focused her eyes at a point in the distance. It was very impressive.

"The 'now you've gone too far, it's time to show you what we're really made of' attitude?" I attempted to nod again, without much success.

"It's more like the 'let's just get this over with, I've got better things to do with my spare time' attitude," she replied.

"That'll work." I sighed.

"It'll be daylight in a few hours," Xena said, maintaining her resolve. "Try to get some more sleep."

I felt like I should argue, but there wasn't much we could do at that point anyway. Plans A, B, and probably C were shot to hell. We had less than twenty-four hours to use a few more letters. Sleep was probably a good idea. I hoped when I woke up I might actually be able to move my thumb in a circle again.

When I next woke, the faint light of a foggy dawn was shining through the window. I was alone in the bed and I looked around for Xena. I couldn't see her or hear her, and I felt instant, chilling panic. I pushed myself up just as she popped in front of me.

"Xena!" I cried, trying to slow my panting breaths. "You weren't here and I thought you were…that it had…that I was…."

"Shh," Xena said, sitting on the bed next to me. "I had to take care of some business. Someone was watching. They told me when you woke up."

"Uh…what?" This was a new development.

"In most ways, we're alone in this fight," Xena explained. "But we do have some friends."

"Friends in high places?" I asked.

"Exactly." She smiled. "Anyway, I needed to have a word with them. We should be able to hide a little better now."

"That's good," I said, running my fingers through my hair. "But next time you talk to God, could you ask her a few things for me? I have this list."

"I think that can wait," Xena said with a grin. She held out her hand and I grabbed it, allowing myself to be pulled into a standing position. I swayed a bit and the world went fuzzy and gray, but after a few deep breaths, I was better.

"Let's go," she said. "I have an idea of where Derek is headed this morning."

I think it was the mention of the name that turned my legs to rubber and started my hands shaking. I suppose all of the blood drained from my face as well, because Xena's eyes widened, and she immediately grabbed my arm and helped me sit down again.

"Whoa, take it easy," she said, her forehead furrowing with worry.

"Sorry. Let's try that one again." I tried to stand up, but she held me down.

"Just give yourself a minute."

I took a few deep breaths, and then felt on the verge of hyperventilating.

"Sorry." I apologized again. I couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

I wanted to say no. I was "Queen of Avoidance" – it's how I dealt with all of the problems in my life. But when I put my tongue behind my teeth to start saying the word, I couldn't. I needed to talk about it, and Xena was willing to listen. That was a damn rare thing for me, so I couldn't miss the opportunity.

"When he looked at me, I saw things," I started to explain. I couldn't say his name. "He forced visions into my head and I could remember things."

"What things?"

"They were horrible." I felt the bile rise in my throat again.

"You don't have to tell me any more."

Oh, that was tempting. I smiled my thanks. But it was too late now; I'd started and I had to finish.

"It's strange, though," I continued. "They're like moments in time, but I don't have the rest of my memories to give them context."

I thought about one vision in particular and swallowed painfully.

"Xena…did I murder a child?"

She went very still and I could see her body vibrate. I could almost hear it hum.

"No." It was an anguished whisper. "It wasn't like that."

I wanted to scream "what was it like?" but the words froze on my lips when I looked into her eyes. I had never seen such grief, such agony.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

"It's not your fault," she said, taking hold of my shoulders and staring intently into my eyes. "None of this is your fault, Gabrielle. Dahak is to blame. And we're going to stop him once and for all."

I nodded, feeding off her intensity. "Let's go kick Derek's ass," I hissed. Hey, I could do resolute too.

*

Xena led the way and I soon discovered that for Xena, resolute meant focused and focused meant silent. She was as silent as…I almost said "the grave", but I won't go there. She was as silent as my high school library – which was silent not because of a strict librarian but because no one ever went in there – no one, that is, except Becky Foster and me when we wanted to neck. Shit, I'm digressing again, aren't I?

Anyway, Xena was silent. And I didn’t like it. It meant she wasn’t sharing The Plan. It also meant that I was left alone with my brain, which kept torturing me with those damn images. It was very unfair of my brain to turn on me like that. What was it with my body? I had taken pretty good care of it, after all…on the whole…all things considered…better than some…oh, forget it.

"So, where are we headed?" I asked to break the silence.

"West," the Human Compass responded.

I had a quick, almost uncontrollable urge to turn into a punching, kicking, clawing Tasmanian devil kind of creature and just turn on her. She really could be so annoying at times. But I maintained my composure.

"Right, thanks," I said pleasantly. "I had figured that out by the location of the sun and the fact we were headed downhill." I took a cleansing breath. "Any particular place in the west?"

She turned to me and actually looked contrite.

"I'm sorry," she said, "I didn't know how much you wanted to talk about …things. I should have told you the plan."

Good Lord Almighty! Xena apologizing for not sharing The Plan. Why don't you ever have a digital recorder when you need one?

"While you were asleep," she continued, ignoring the triumphant look on my face, "I started thinking about what we've been doing the past couple of days. We've been spending all of our time reacting. We need to start being proactive."

"Right," I agreed. "Act, don't react. I learned all about that in a management symposium once. Or maybe it was Girl Scouts."

"It all comes down to the Gabrielle collection."

"Coming to a museum near you. Replica items are available online at www.gabsrus.com."

She smiled. I love it when I can make Xena smile.

"He's obviously been searching the world for Gabrielle artifacts," Xena said. "So, I thought, why couldn't I do the same? He's after one final piece. I got a little help from our friends upstairs to figure out what it might be, and I located it. It's in an antique store on Fourth Street. We just need to get there ahead of him today."

"And this final piece is so important that it really matters?" I asked.

"It's the key to everything," she replied. "Without it, there will be no ascension."

It seemed odd that one thing could have that much power, but Xena seemed to know what she was talking about.

"And you're sure it's in this shop?" I asked, not wanting to waste our final opportunity.

"Yes," Xena replied. "I found the store last night and hacked into their computer."

"You're a hacker?"

"It's been 20 years since I died," Xena said with an enigmatic smile. "I had to do something to pass the time."

"You mean watching me wasn't entertaining enough?" I smirked.

"You had your moments, sweetheart."

I hadn't blushed since I was eight and my zipper broke in the middle of a spelling bee. But by golly, her words made me blush scarlet. My face felt like the George Foreman grill.

"Anyway," I said with a croak, then cleared my throat and started over. "Anyway, you hacked into the store's computer – wait a minute, how did you manage that if you can't touch anything?"

"I didn't need to. I could just use my mental energy to enter the commands. Our friends helped with that as well."

"Hey, that's not fair! I want a little help too. When we're all done today, can they help me drink a cup of coffee?"

"Allison, this is serious."

"I'm being serious. Look – this is my serious face." I pursed my lips, jutted out my jaw, and squinted my eyes. She didn't look moved. I decided to try begging. "Xena, please, I'm desperate."

"OK." She caved. "Tomorrow we'll have a word with them."

"Yes!" I did an abbreviated version of the cabbage patch dance. Xena waited.

"So," I finally said after I'd composed myself, "getting back to the store."

"Right," Xena said with an exaggerated sigh. "Derek has purchased this piece and they're holding it for him. He picks it up this afternoon."

"But we're going to get there first," I said.

"Yes."

"And then we're going to…" I realized I still wasn't quite sure of The Plan. "We're going to do what, Xena?"

"Gabrielle, yesterday when Derek looked at you, he gave away something." She paused, gazing at me.

I tried not to jerk at the mention of his name, or tremble when I thought about what had happened, or let sweat break out on my upper lip. I failed miserably at all three.

"I'm sorry," Xena said. Her eyes held anguish, as if she was the one who was hurting me.

"It's OK," I said, taking a deep breath. "It's not your fault. I can deal."

She stroked my arm. "Are you sure?"

I nodded. "What did he give away?"

"I thought we were dealing with a normal living person," Xena explained. "That he would only change at the time of Dahak's ascension."

"You mean he's not normal and living?" I was a touch confused.

"Not if he can see us, not if he can do what he did to you."

"I suppose so…" I was having trouble seeing the big picture. I couldn't even make out the lower left-hand corner of it.

"If he can see us, he must be like us in some way," Xena added.

"Which means?"

"Which means I'm going to confront him, overpower him, and pop him somewhere."

"Wh…huh…bu…Are you crazy!" What I lost in coherency I made up for in volume.

"Gab-Allison, relax. I'll be fine."

"No, no, no," I said, shaking my head back and forth.

"No," I added for good measure.

"It'll work. Trust me."

Did I mention I have trust issues?

"He'll hurt you," I said. The fear started eating at my stomach.

I made a mental note: "Self, next time, don't ask about The Plan. It's better that you don't know."

"He won't hurt me," Xena said emphatically. "The worst that can happen is that I'm wrong, and we'll have to rethink the whole thing. But listen, I want you to stay well away from him, do you understand?"

"Oh, loud and clear," I replied, nodding frantically.

*

Thankfully, I didn't have much time to think about things, since our conversation had brought us to Fourth Street.

"It's just down here, beyond the diner," Xena said, putting her hand on the small of my back and leading me toward the shop.

It was like walking into Aladdin's cave. The store held antiques and curios from around the world, but it seemed to specialize in Asian items – there were ornate cabinets, exquisite tea sets, gorgeous jade pieces, beautifully carved dragons. My eyes were drawn to a silk kimono that was encased in glass and hanging on the wall. It was emblazoned with a green dragon. I felt an itch between my shoulder blades, and I jiggled my shoulders.

"Come this way," Xena said, taking my elbow and moving me back into the store. There was a staircase and we took it to an upper level. It was the store's business office, and it provided a clear view of the entire floor below.

"I'll stay up here with you until Derek shows and we make sure he has the piece. Then you stay right here," Xena said. She didn't exactly command it, but it was a strong suggestion. You're thinking I argued. You're wrong. I had absolutely no intention of getting any closer. My belly was yellow, and I was proud of it.

"Xena, please, are you sure you—"

"Don't worry about it." Xena dazzled me with a smile and I felt the fear in my stomach release a little. "I've met Derek before when he was the Deliverer. I held my own."

In one of the visions Derek had forced on me, I could see, through the fire and the pain, Xena fighting a demon. She was grinning. Yeah, I'd say she was pretty good at holding her own.

"OK, just…be careful," I urged.

"I always am." I knew she was lying about that, but I grinned anyway. Her confidence was contagious. Maybe we'd make it after all.

We watched the small Japanese woman behind the counter sip her tea. Other than moving the teacup to her lips, and pouring herself a fresh cup twice, she didn't move. After about fifteen minutes, the door chimed and a young couple wandered in. They browsed through the store, commenting on a few of the pieces. I could feel Xena tense. She didn't want anyone getting hurt. She calmed down when they left.

After thirty interminable minutes, the door opened. As Derek walked into the store, I froze and stopped breathing. I probably could have stayed that way, since I was already dead, but Xena squeezed my arm reassuringly and I managed to suck in some superfluous air.

I looked at her and tried to make my eyes tell her everything – be careful, don't take stupid risks, kick his ass, come back up here in one piece, don't forget the coffee when we're done, and a hundred other things. She smiled. She understood.

We watched Derek walked up to the counter. Without speaking, the woman stood and bowed to him, and then leaned down and pulled out a package. She carefully unwrapped the brown paper and held out the object. Derek took it and held it up in the light.

It was a Japanese sword – gorgeous and obviously very, very old.

Time stopped.

And then I felt as if my brain was tearing in two pieces.

The memories that Derek had forced on me the day before had been painful, but this time I felt like a giant fist had reached through my chest and was squeezing my heart. It hurt worse than I can possibly describe.

The images were quick and blurry: mud and blood…standing in the rain…a flash of thunder illuminating Xena's headless body.

I felt the rain pelting me. I could feel Xena's hand on my shoulder. But that was impossible. She was dead.

It was bitterly cold and the sun was setting. I was running out of time. I had to hurry.

The pot in my hand reflected on the still water. Then her hand wrapped around mine, stopping me.

I sank to my knees, barely feeling the hardwood floors.

"Gabrielle, what is it?" Xena's voice sounded far away.

"You left me," I heard myself reply.

"Gabrielle."

"Don't call me that."

I ran - popped back to the scene of my death. I could see the skid marks on the pavement. Cars whizzed past me. And the images of Japa came back to me.

It was like watching a movie – 70 millimeter with Dolby Surround Sound. And I couldn't stop the film. I couldn't get up to buy popcorn or hide in the bathroom. I couldn't even scrunch down in my seat or cover my eyes or turn my head. The movie ran on, and when it was finished, it started up again. I think I screamed. I know I cried. And then I sank into darkness.

*

I awoke in Xena's arms again – just as I had after my death.

"I'm sorry," she said.

I tried to force words into my head – true words, better words: I am Allison Peckham. I live at 2251 Rose Street in Berkeley. I grew up in Portland. (I pushed away a memory of a village and a house made of wood and thatch.) I am an assistant editor for the University Press. (I do not write in scrolls with a quill.) I have a sister named Lisa (not Lila) and parents named Howard and Helen (not Heroditus and Hecuba).

I had to get those images out of my head.

"I am Allison Peckham," I mumbled.

"Shh, sweetheart, just rest." She ran fingers through my hair.

"Why did you leave me?"

I remembered asking that question to the wind for years – how many was it? Ten, I think, before a fever took me.

"I thought I was doing the right thing," she said, rocking me.

"The right thing for whom?" I couldn't look at her, just stared at the traffic whizzing past.

"The right thing for those souls and for my own redemption."

"What about me?" The words echoed through the millennia. The words I had longed to say to her, to scream at her.

The echo faded slowly, into the silent gulf that had grown between us.

The silence was deafening, and I had to get away from it. I crawled suddenly out of her arms and stood on swaying feet. She began to get up and I stumbled away a few steps, out of her reach. She stood and moved toward me, her arm outstretched. She remained speechless. I wanted her to say something, to explain, to excuse, to deny. Of course, I would accept none of it.

"Gabrielle," she finally said, her voice cracking.

"We've been together for three days. Why didn't you say anything?"

"I didn't know what to say…how to say it." She looked down at her fingers, which were twitching with nervous energy.

"All I wanted to do," I cried, "was remember my life so that we could be together again. So that we could love again."

"That's all I wanted as well," she said. Her eyes were filled with tears, and they refracted the light like a prism. Their beauty made me angrier.

"What were you going to do when I remembered Japa?" I sneered.

"I hoped we could talk – after this was over, after Dahak was defeated."

"Sit down with our feet up and chat about old times?" I asked bitterly. The anger exploded inside me. "Fuck that! Fuck Dahak and the afterlife and this stupid-ass mission for the greater good.

"And fuck you," I whispered, my rage-fueled energy suddenly spent.

I wanted to be away from her. Away from all that she would say. And so, again, I was somewhere else. It was somewhere quiet and warm and peaceful. I sat down on the ground and pulled my knees up toward my chin. I wrapped my arms around my legs and buried my face in my thighs. I rocked myself and I finally began to cry, as all of my memories began to flow into me.

*

All of my memories slid into place – my life as Gabrielle and all of my other lives. Xena said that the katana was the key to everything. Boy, was she right about that. My lifetimes became a means of trying to understand and learn from what Xena had done in Japa. I became a fighter for the greater good; I was courageous, tenacious, tough.

And now here I sat, at the pinnacle of my karmic cycle, and I still didn't understand why she left me, why she sacrificed our love.

*

"Don't cry Gabrielle."

I looked up into the face of a sweet, innocent boy.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Lief. Don't you remember me?"

I wiped the tears off my cheeks with shaking hands.

"I'm in Heaven?" Lief was my guardian angel. I had met him in my brief time in Heaven after Xena and I had been crucified.

"I guess you came here because you needed to be somewhere peaceful," Lief said, sitting down beside me.

"I guess I just ran out of places to go," I said, laughing bitterly.

It was ironic really: the last time we were in Heaven, Xena had tried to take me to Hell in order to keep us together for eternity. Just a few years later she ended up leaving me alone in a living hell.

I stood up suddenly, as if there was somewhere in the universe that I could actually go. I was swamped by the memories of Heaven – Xena sacrificing her soul for Callisto, my own forgiveness of Callisto, my battle with demon Xena.

"What's going to happen?" Lief asked innocently, as if I could answer. At least it stilled the memories.

"Xena will win," I replied, with an exhausted sigh. "She always does."

"No she won't." He said it with such finality, that I believed him. Do angels lie?

"You think I should go down there and help her," I said, not meeting his eyes. "I should just forget everything? Even if I could, I can't help her. I'm not strong enough."

"You are," he said, rising to stand next to me. "You're stronger and braver than anyone I know."

"I thought you knew Xena," I replied with a scoffing snort.

He looked lost.

"That was supposed to be sarcasm."

"Oh." He still looked lost. He was very innocent.

"Look, Lief, if Xena can't defeat Dahak, then no one can."

"You can. You have to."

He looked at me like I was his hero and I was completely letting him down. His eyes were filling with tears, and if I'd had any left inside of me, I would have cried in reaction.

I was no one's hero. I couldn't be. I was a fuck up. I put myself and my love above everything. Despite that – or maybe because of it - those I loved ended up dead – Eli, Perdicus, Joxer, Hope. And Xena. The memories of their deaths swam before me and I sat down again, hard – all of the pain, and the blood, and the anguish.

Eli, my mentor – I stood by and let Ares murder him. Xena's accusing words rang in my mind.

Perdicus, my husband, whose only crime was to love me. I was too much of a coward to tell him that my life had changed and that knowing me had become dangerous.

Joxer. I treated him like a clown, but he loved me and died for me.

And Hope…my child. Was Dahak's claim on her really stronger than my own? I would never know.

I stopped my mental ramblings as something began to tickle the back of my mind. I had an idea. It wasn't a very good one, and I hadn't really thought it through, but it was time to act, not react. Or maybe it was reacting. I didn't really care any more.

"Lief," I said, taking his hand, "I'm going to ask you to do something, but if you don't want to, I won't be mad at you." I winced. In Allison's – my – lifetime, the worst thing I had ever done to someone was break up with her. Now I was going to ask someone to go to Hell. Actually, it wasn't that different.

"I'll do anything, Gabrielle."

"Don't say that." I paused, but the devoted puppy look didn't fade. I shouldn't have gotten him involved, but it was too late.

"The only person who can defeat Dahak is his own offspring," I stated quickly, hoping that he wouldn't question my audacious assumption. (Wild ass guess is probably a better description.)

"Yeah," Lief replied. Good, he was buying into my theory.

"Well, Dahak had a child. She was called Hope. You know enough about me to know that, right?" He nodded. "If we can get Hope to fight against Dahak, she can destroy him."

I thought about the images that Derek had dumped on me. They were all now a part of my normal memory, but they were no less disturbing. I shivered, and tried not to think of Hope any more than I had to.

"I suppose you're right." Uh oh, my disciple was wavering.

"I'm hoping – no pun intended – that she's in hell." I looked at him for confirmation, but now he'd fallen a few steps behind me. "Lief, do you know if she's in Hell?"

"What? Oh, yes, she is," he confirmed. "We thought that Dahak would claim her, but once you killed her and her offspring, he didn't want to know."

"Good, this will work then."

"I'm sorry, I don't understand." He was very sweet. I didn't want him to get hurt – too many people were hurt already.

"We're going to Hell," I said matter-of-factly. "You don't have to come if you don't want to, but I might need a little help. I mean, my brain remembers how to fight, but my current body certainly doesn't."

"Why are we going to Hell?"

I sighed.

"We're going to get Hope, bring her out, and she's going to kill Derek for us. Hopefully – there's that word again – he'll let her get close enough. Well…let's just cross that bridge when we come to it."

Lief's eyes were very expressive. They held every emotion. At that moment, they were completely lacking in comprehension. I waited. Slowly, he started putting pieces together. When he finally realized what I was proposing, pain filled his eyes.

"No," he said, shaking his head.

"Look, maybe we'll figure out another way once we're down there."

"There is no other way," he said.

"Then it's the way it's going to be." I paused. "Lief, Dahak will destroy the entire human race, but he won't stop there. He'll destroy everything in existence. He'll take over Heaven and Hell – we have to do whatever we can to stop that."

I could see my words sink into Lief's brain. Finally, he looked at me and nodded decisively.

"Let's go," he said.

*

"Where do you think you're going?"

I knew it was Michael before I turned around. His voice was as full of conceit as usual. Lief stopped and cowered a bit. I gave my guardian angel what I hoped was an encouraging smile.

"Michael, I'm glad you're here," I said, crossing my arms over my chest. "I need my wings."

"You'll have to earn them," Michael said, striding towards us. He really was a smug bastard.

"I've already earned them," I said, standing my ground. "Don't you remember? I didn't think it was something that could be taken away again."

"Perhaps not," he said, obviously pondering how to play me. "But why do you need them now?"

"I'm planning on doing a little flying," I replied. "I was going to have Lief carry me, but having my own wings – not to mention the sword and armor that goes with them – would be much more convenient."

"Are you planning on doing battle?"

"Perhaps," I replied. It was my turn to ponder how much to say. I decided to go for it. "I'm going to Hell to find Hope. Then you're going to send her to earth to help Xena defeat Dahak."

He laughed condescendingly. "Hope is a demon, she won't help you."

"She will help when I've saved her soul. I'm going to trade places with her." I tried to sound decisive, but my voice wavered a bit. I titled my chin up and set my jaw to make up for it.

I actually succeeded in striking Michael speechless, albeit for only a few seconds.

"Gabrielle, that's madness," he finally said.

"No, it isn't. It's what needs to be done," I replied.

"You and Xena can fight together to defeat Dahak—"

"No, we can't!" I shouted. "I'm sick of arguing this. You know I'm right, the gods know I'm right, I know I'm right. So if you're not going to give me my wings, then Lief can take me down."

I could feel my knees shaking with a combination of fear and anger. I was operating on pure adrenaline, and I knew it wouldn't last. I didn't have time to prolong this discussion. I turned and grabbed Lief's arm.

"Wait," Michael said, stopping me in my tracks. "You're right, Gabrielle. It may be the only way. And it's your choice to make. Stand away from Lief."

I took a few steps to the side and closed my eyes. I felt a tingling sensation up my spine, and then I opened my eyes. I felt my wings unfold and looked down at my uniform. I looked hot, if I do say so myself. It was too bad I wouldn't have time to enjoy it.

"Thank you," I said, nodding to Michael.

"What do I tell Xena?" he asked as I turned away.

Maybe he wanted me to say something mushy like "tell her I love her" or something heroic like "I did it so that all men could live free."

"Nothing," I replied, not turning around to look at him. "I have nothing to say to her."

"Lief, Hope is in the cavern next to the lake of fire," Michael instructed, not commenting on my statement.

Lief nodded and jumped off the cliff edge. I squared my shoulders and leapt after him.

*

Some of you might think what I was planning to do was incredibly noble. Others might think I was a heartless bitch. You're both wrong. I was tired, I was hurting, and I wanted the hurting to stop.

I decided what I was about to do would be best for everyone.

Lief seemed to know exactly where he was going, and I followed behind, taking a moment to enjoy the feeling of flying. I felt like I was in a dream, but I shook myself and bit the inside of my cheek, forcing my mind to focus on the task ahead.

It got darker as we descended, and the air became hot. It smelled of rotten food and shit and dead things, and my eyes watered. I wiped them with my palms and tried not to gag.

We entered a dark cavern and Lief glanced back. I could see the fear in his eyes.

Please don't let him get hurt, I murmured to whomever was in charge. Then I realized that She was watching this unfold, and I became angry. Certainly She had the power to defeat Dahak. Why were Xena and I constantly forced to do the gods' dirty work?

We landed in the middle of what appeared to be an empty cavern. Lief looked around nervously. It was dark and misty, and I tried to see more than a few feet around me. Suddenly, forms started to drift toward us out of the mist.

"Go back now, Lief," I said, pushing him gently.

"No," he replied, planting his feet. "I need to help you."

"You have no weapon. I just needed a guide." The beings were getting closer. Some were human, or seemed to be; others were demons, with leathery wings and the faces of gargoyles. "Please go, Lief."

I drew my sword. It whispered as it slipped through the sheath. The sound was met by answering growls. A demon rushed me and I swung my weapon, taking its head off neatly. My fighting reflexes were better than I expected.

Two more beings slunk toward me, and I prepared to do battle, but a voice rose above the grunts and growls.

"Hello, Mother." It was my voice, but pitched lower. I felt bile at the back of my throat. "What a pleasant surprise. Hey, everyone, I want you to meet my mom." The phony conversational tone set my teeth on edge.

Hope walked out of the dark mist and stood before me. She looked exactly like me, except for the leathery wings of a demon, and two small horns sprouting from her forehead. The beings around us didn't seem to know how to react, so they stood, snarling and pawing the ground.

"So, what brings you to Hell, Mother?" Hope asked, smiling and showing her fangs. "Just wanted to catch up on old times?"

"I need your help to defeat your father," I replied, keeping my voice steady. I have to admit, it sure as hell wasn’t easy.

"Defeat my father, now why would I want to help you do that?" She laughed. It was the sound of a needle scratching a record.

"Because it's the right thing to do."

"Oh, Mother, you seem to have forgotten, I don't do the right thing. I'm evil, remember?"

"You did evil things, Hope, but now it's time to do something good."

She stared at me as if I was the one who had grown horns in my forehead. For a moment, I saw something in her eyes. Could it have been remorse? Whatever it was, it was quickly extinguished.

"You've come to kill me again," she said, stepping within arm's reach. I could smell her foul breath, hot on my face. "How many times have you killed me, Mother? At least three, I think. When you gave me the poison, did you laugh when I went into convulsions?"

It was a slap to my face, and the sting brought tears to my eyes. I remembered holding her small hand as she died, and telling her I loved her.

"You gave me no choice," I said, feeling a hot tear slide down my cheek.

"I was a child!" she shouted, leaning in toward me. "I needed love and understanding. You gave me hatred and death."

"I did love you," I whispered. I reached out my hand and she froze. I felt heat flowing through my arm. I placed my open palm against her chest. "I still love you. I still have hope."

I focused my energy toward her and I felt all of my warmth and kindness, all of my hopes and dreams, flow out of me. I was like a teapot and she was a cup. My soul was poured into her until I was an empty vessel. All that was left behind was a cold, dark, empty husk.

*

Well, you know that's not the end of the story. I can't tell you much of what happened in Hell after that. I was left a demon and Hope was redeemed. Soon after the exchange occurred, Lief grabbed Hope and they flew away as quickly as they could. Hope's little demon friends were too confused and stunned to follow before it was too late. Lief and Hope were intercepted by Michael, who was conveniently standing by, and he sent her to Xena.

Lief told me all of that later. As for my own memory of my time in h-e-double hockey sticks, it's just static – like when the cable wire falls out of the back of the TV. You pound the remote against the sofa cushions, but it doesn't help. I truly believe that it's better that way.

Unfortunately, in order to tell you the next part of the story, we will have to rely on what Xena told me of the events. It took me hours to wring out even a small amount of detail. If I relate her version word-for-word, it would fill about two paragraphs. And that's only if I add dialogue. So, most of what I'm going to tell you is…well…enhanced. Hey, I'm the bard here. It's my story. So cut me some slack.

*

Xena lost Derek when she followed me. After I left her, she remained near the freeway for a long time, reliving her own memories of Japa. My pain-filled face, from past and present, haunted her. She considered just giving up, finding some corner of limbo or something. But Xena's not a quitter. After a while, she realized that she still needed to defeat Dahak. Once she'd completed that task, she'd be able to focus on us.

She returned to the forecourt of the castle, where the final guests were arriving in their limos and sports cars. Women in designer gowns were carefully eyeing each other to make sure that no style was too much like another. Expensive jewels on fingers, throats, and wrists glittered in the flashbulbs of the paparazzi.

Xena followed the guests inside. The theme of the party was "A Midsummer-Night's Dream", which meant there was a lot of greenery to simulate a forest glen and sparkling fairy lights provided the only illumination. Despite the gloom of the low light, it really did look magical. The guests were enthralled. Xena knew better.

She continued to wander, keeping a look out for Derek, since he was the only one who could see her. He wasn't greeting his guests at the front door, so Xena carefully slipped into the main banquet hall. He wasn't there either, and Xena took a position in a dark corner.

Several hours went by with typical charity ball goings-on. There was a lot of buffet nibbling, elbow rubbing, back slapping, glad-handing, speeches, and more elbow rubbing. Men laughed loudly at things that weren't funny and women gossiped in the powder room. Xena's quiet corner was used once for a quick sexual encounter and once for a quick drug purchase. Other than those incidents, the most exciting aspect of the evening for Xena was watching the ice sculpture melt. It started the evening as a giant swan. After a few hours, it still looked like a swan, but only if you closed one eye and tilted your head sideways.

Finally, Derek was called up to the podium to give his big speech of the evening. Xena watched and listened. She didn't have long to wait. Derek's speech started out normally. He opened with a joke that wasn't funny and then segued into helping your fellow man, blah blah blah, patriotism, yadda yadda yadda, the end of the universe as we know it.

Ah, that last line piqued Xena's interest. Yep, that was definitely the cue. In the background, the soft music that had been playing changed to a minor chord and increased in volume. Derek's words became indistinct. Xena watched as the faces around hers went blank.

She felt a faint stirring in the back of her mind, but she was protected from the force of Derek's power. Still, she decided it would be best to take up her new post, so she popped to the basement and hid under the stairs, waiting for the next phase of the party.

That's where Hope and Michael found her.

"Gabrielle," Xena said to the woman who suddenly materialized before her.

"I'm not Gabrielle," Hope said softly, uncertain what to say to Xena and how to say it.

"Allison," Xena said, correcting herself.

"No," Hope said hesitantly.

Xena stopped, confused. She looked at Michael, and then back at the woman.

"I'm Hope."

Xena sprang forward, her eyes flashing blue fire. Michael hastily moved, putting his body between the two women.

"Xena, wait," Michael said sternly.

"It's not what you think," Hope tried to explain. "I'm here to help."

"Go to hell," Xena whispered menacingly.

"I'd be there now if it wasn't for Gabrielle," Hope said sadly.

"What are you talking about?"

"Do you remember your sacrifice for Callisto?" Michael asked.

I can imagine Xena's face as the realization of what I did hit her like a two-by-four. "No…" she said, the air sucked from her lungs.

"She knew I was the only one who could get close enough to Derek." Hope's eyes reflected her sympathy.

"She wouldn't do that," Xena said, shaking her head.

"Sacrifice her soul for the greater good?" Michael asked. "Didn't you teach her everything she knew? She learned well."

Xena stood still, contemplating what Hope and Michael were saying. She considered what I had done and why I had done it. Guilt and pain seared her like a brand.

"This can't be happening," Xena gasped. "I need to find her, to save her."

Xena prepared to pop directly into Hell, ready to bring me out or die trying.

"Xena, don't make her sacrifice meaningless," Hope said, reaching out and grabbing Xena's arm. "Help me get close to Derek. If we can defeat him, we won't just stop Dahak's ascension, we will destroy Dahak forever. That's what mother would have wanted."

Xena hesitated. She gathered herself to pop, already calling my name in her mind.

"Please, Xena," Hope said in a hoarse whisper, "we both know that I'm right. This is right."

They were the exact words I'd used to convince Xena to stay and fight the Persians instead of saving me. I don't know if Hope quoted me deliberately, but the combination of her words and my face spoke to Xena, convincing her to focus once again on defeating Dahak.

"All right," Xena said, drawing in a deep breath and letting it out slowly.

"I can't help you with this fight," Michael said, looking between the two women. "Xena, we've decided to give you the ability to interact with the living. They'll be able to see you and speak to you. That means you'll be able to fight."

"Perfect," Xena replied, her lip turning up in a fierce sneer.

"And you'll need this as well." Michael snapped his fingers and Xena's sword materialized in his hands. He passed it to Xena.

She took it and twirled it, slashing the air in graceful arcs. "Even better," she purred.

Michael nodded and disappeared. Then, Xena turned to Hope.

"I'll help you get to Derek," Xena said. "Then what happens?"

"Leave that to me," Hope replied. Xena looked at her dubiously. "Xena, trust me, please?"

Hope smiled. It was an open, loving smile and Xena suddenly saw the face of the child that we had always wanted.

"I don't want you to get hurt," Xena said. "Gabrielle sacrificed her soul for you."

"She sacrificed her soul for you too, Xena. I pray that you'll both have an opportunity to understand when this is over."

Xena felt emotion choke her and she forced her feelings down. She had to focus.

"OK," Xena replied. "I'll trust you." She looked up at a sound from high above the basement. "And right on cue, it sounds like the party is about to begin."

She grabbed Hope's wrists and stared into her eyes. "Stay behind me and I'll clear a path to Derek. I'll trust you to pick your own moment."

Hope nodded. She didn't show fear, just acceptance of her fate.

"Your mother would be proud of you," Xena said, letting go of her wrists.

Tears sprang to Hope's eyes and she leaned toward Xena, hugging her tightly.

"Thank you," Hope whispered. Xena returned the hug, and then pulled away, holding her sword high as the sound of marching footsteps rang down the stairs and throughout the basement.

*

Derek's party was the social event of the year. All of the Bay Area's movers and shakers had been invited. From the looks of the people descending the staircase, few had turned down the invitation. Xena estimated that over a thousand people were filling the basement. Derek led the procession, and his guests marched in step behind him, their eyes empty of life, chanting in a language that no one on earth had ever spoken.

When they reached the floor of the basement, they fanned out around the altar. Derek took his place in the center, on the raised dais. The altar separated into two pieces, moving apart and revealing the huge fissure, which was now belching steam and glowing red. The noxious smell of sulfur filled the basement.

Derek withdrew the katana from the folds of his coat and raised it high above his head.

"With this final piece, I commit to you the soul of She Who Betrayed You, Oh Great Master." Derek's words rang out above the chant. He turned to his left and motioned someone forward. The person was wearing a cloak, and Xena watched as Derek removed the cloak, revealing our descendent – the girl we had last seen in Derek's apartment three days before.

"With the death of this innocent, I sacrifice the soul of She Who Betrayed You, Oh Great Master."

He raised the sword. Things were moving far faster than Xena had planned, and she stepped forward, ready to begin the battle.

"Leave her alone, Derek!" Hope's shout rang above the sound of chanting voices.

Xena stepped from her position beneath the stairs, shielding Hope's body from the first attack, which came quickly and savagely from one of the partygoers. Xena soon learned that spiked heels hurt, especially when they were motivated by an evil, unearthly power.

Hope was pure and good – what I'd always wanted her to be. Unfortunately, that meant she couldn't fight worth a damn. Luckily, Xena made up for my daughter's shortcomings. Xena's anxiety and anger had reached boiling point. Bashing heads was just what she needed.

Somehow, Xena kept in mind that she was battling innocent strangers. She used the hilt and blunt edge of her sword and managed not to kill anyone. She did, however, break a heck of a lot of noses and jaws. And several arms. And one or two legs. Did I mention the concussions?

It took only moments to cross the floor. Bodies lay in their path. Only a few more stood between Xena and Derek. One of the last remaining was our descendent, who walked calmly and deliberately towards Xena.

"You aren't going to ruin the party are you?" she asked, wrinkling her adorable nose. Xena noticed that her pupils were wide – only small rings of her irises were visible. She was totally under Derek's control.

Xena felt Hope move away from her back and glanced quickly to the side to see a man grab Hope by the arm and drag her on to the dais beside Derek.

"No!" Xena cried, keeping up the charade. Our many times great granddaughter laughed, throwing her head back. Then she sprang on Xena, and Xena allowed her sword to be knocked to the ground and her arms to be pinned by two burly men.

"Don't hurt her. Please, Derek, take me instead." Xena's delivery was worthy of an Academy Award.

"When I've finished with the sacrifice, I'll take you as well," Derek said, leering at Hope. "Come, my darling. Dahak has been waiting for you."

He reached out and took Hope's face in his hands. The moment he made contact, his eyes widened as surprise, and then agony, tore through his mind.

"NO!" he screamed, unable to remove his hands. The cry echoed from the glowing hole beneath them.

"Yes," Hope said, reaching out and grabbing his waist. She pushed forward suddenly and twisted, knocking Derek off balance. Xena watched the scene progress in slow motion, just as it had when I knocked Hope into the lava pit those millennia ago.

Xena listened to Derek's screams as they faded into the depths. For a moment, all sound stopped. Then, from miles below them, a rumbling started, quickly rising in intensity and turning into a howl of anger.

Xena felt the hands gripping her arms loosen and she turned to look around. She saw people shaking themselves, freed from Dahak's control. The ground began to move and Xena remembered the temple in Britannia.

"OK, everyone!" she shouted, "Move it! Up the stairs, help those who can't walk. We need to get out of here!"

She turned to our descendent, who was rubbing her temples, her eyes still unfocused. She wrapped an arm around the girl's waist and began to drag her toward the stairs. Once she was sure that the girl was moving in the right direction, she turned to others in the basement.

She grabbed and shoved nearby bodies, pushing them in the direction of a few people who were still semi-conscious or had broken legs. She made sure everyone was mobile in some fashion, and began to herd people back up the stairs.

The altar began to crumble, and Xena turned to watch pieces fall into the pit. She saw my things begin to fall with the altar, and ran over, grabbing a scroll and the chakram. Everything else was already gone.

The earthquake became more intense, and she pushed the last few stragglers up the steps.

"Take your shoes off if you can't run in them!" she cried, watching as $300 pairs of shoes rained over the edges of the stairs.

Once they reached the banquet room, many people stopped and milled around, confused about where they were and where they'd been.

"Keep moving, all the way out of the house!" Xena instructed. Most people didn't need to be told twice, although a few were sheltering under the tables.

"That means everyone!" Xena cried, pulling people by their feet from their hiding places and pushing them toward the exits.

She continued to move the throng of people out of the house, and then out of the grounds. Only when they were on the drive and out onto the road did she stop and turn around. They had only moments to spare before the house fell into pieces, imploding and dropping into the massive fissure.

Within fifteen minutes, nothing remained but a few pieces of foundation, which could have been there originally.

"Is the party over?"

Xena turned to find our multiple-great granddaughter. She looked into the face that was so much like my own. The jade eyes haunted her. The memory of my sacrifice, now coupled with Hope's, dropped back on her shoulders, and she staggered under the weight.

She knew that she should speak to this girl. Explain and instruct and get to know. But she was tired – so very, very tired.

"Go home and get some sleep," Xena said, her voice sounding rough and gravelly. "Everything will be fine in the morning."

"'Kay," the girl said, still having trouble focusing her eyes. She turned and began to stumble down the drive.

"Wait a minute," Xena called. "What's your name?"

The girl turned around. "Natasha," she replied.

Natasha – Greek for rebirth. Xena managed a smile.

"Here," she said, handing Natasha the scroll that she'd saved. "This was meant for you."

The girl took it and nodded, but looked confused.

Xena paused and looked at the chakram in her hand, and then handed that to the girl as well.

"You'll understand someday," Xena said. She felt a tear fall down her face and hastily brushed it away with the back of her hand.

"Maybe I'll see you around," the girl said. She looked like she wanted to say more, but couldn't find the words.

"Maybe," Xena replied. "Until then, though…" She paused, knowing there was so much she should say, but not having the strength to say it.

"Just…be good," Xena finally managed. Then she turned and walked away.

Xena walked down the hill, in the same direction that we'd headed the night we first discovered the castle. She had no idea where she was going and didn't bother trying to figure it out. She didn't want to think, so she didn't. She walked.

When she saw the deck where we'd slept, her feet took her there, and she lay down on the chair where we had lain. Sleep was good. It took her away from reality – from the reality that no longer had me in it. So she slept.

*

I've gotta say, if you've been to Hell, literally and figuratively, there's no better way to come back than to wake up in a nice, warm, comfortable bed snuggled up to a nice, warm, comfortable body.

I thought about that dreamily until I started to wonder what nice, warm, comfortable bed I was in and what nice, warm, comfortable body I was snuggled against. I slowly opened my eyes and saw a cave mouth with an angel flying across the sky in the distance. A bed in heaven. That answered the first question. I turned my head and finished the puzzle. Staring back at me, just beginning to focus, was Xena.

We both realized where we were at the same instant, and she let go of me just as I pulled away. I have never felt so many intense emotions in a single moment as I felt then. Love, anger, hate, pain – they all rose inside my mind, vying for attention like spoiled children. I watched as Xena's eyes reflected the same mixture of feelings.

"So you saved the universe," I finally murmured. "Again."

"I couldn't have done it without your help," Xena replied softly.

"You mean without Hope's help," I said. I looked down at the comforter, no longer able to meet those piercing blue eyes. They were asking me questions I couldn't answer.

"Hope wouldn't have been there if it wasn't for you," Xena said. She carefully reached out her hand and gently tilted my face up, forcing me to meet her gaze once more. "Why?"

She didn't need to elaborate; I knew what she was asking.

"I thought it would be for the best – better for everyone," I answered, my voice quavering.

She nodded, as if I had just told her I believed in aliens from another planet. She didn't necessarily agree with me, but she was willing to consider it if I truly believed.

"Do you still think that?" she asked.

Her face was open and her eyes gentle. I knew she would accept any answer I gave her. I knew it was time for honesty. Of course, I had to be honest with myself first. That was a little trickier. I looked deep into my heart, and she waited.

"No," I finally whispered. And then louder, "No."

She didn't grin triumphantly, as if she'd won a point in a game. She isn't like that, and that's one of the reasons why I love her. She remained quiet, waiting for me to continue. Finally, all of the tumbling emotions inside my head settled down, and I felt everything click into place.

"It may have been the only way to save the universe," I said, my voice firm. "It may have been the best way. But it wasn't better for everyone. I hurt you, and I'm sorry." I reached out a hand and placed it over hers. Her hand was hard yet soft; I rubbed my thumb over the little scar on her middle knuckle. The familiar feelings brought tears to my eyes.

"Gabrielle, what I did in Japa," she hesitated over the word and stared at me intently, gauging my reaction. I struggled to continue breathing. I just managed to keep my lungs moving. "I felt like you did, that what I was doing was the right thing, the best thing for everyone."

My lungs stopped, and I forced them to go again. Damn, it was hard.

"Like you said about your sacrifice," Xena continued, "it might have been the only way and it might have been the best way to save those souls. But I sacrificed our love. That was wrong. Please, please forgive me."

Now it looked like Xena's lungs had stopped. She stilled and waited.

"Of course," I said, feeling my chin turn into wobbly Jell-O. "If you'll forgive me as well."

"Always." It was her smile that made my tears finally pour out. She reached toward me and I crawled into her arms.

She let me cry, rocking me gently, until my tears ran out.

"From now on," she said, when my breathing finally evened out, "we're only allowed to do selfless acts for the greater good together. If you're set on going to Hell, I'm right behind you."

I leaned back and looked into her eyes. "Sounds like a plan. I've got your back."

"And I've got yours," she said with a lopsided grin.

I pushed myself up and captured her lips in mine. It had been such a long, long time. She wrapped her arms around me, pulling me closer. What began as a gentle kiss soon turned heated, as our mouths impatiently tried to get reacquainted.

"Well, I'm glad you guys got that sorted out." Michael's obnoxious voice echoed off the stone walls of the chamber. I stayed where I was.

Until I smelled an unmistakable odor.

"Oh….my….God!" I sprang out of Xena's arms, got my legs tangled in the sheets, elbowed the pillow into Xena's face, and eventually righted myself. "Is that coffee?"

Michael stood before me with a large white mug. He presented it to me with a cocky grin. My own face broke into a rapturous smile when the mug didn't slip through my fingers.

"Just the way you like it," he announced. "It's the least we could do."

I leaned my head over the mug and smelled it, letting the steam tickle my nose. I resisted the urge to stick my face directly into the mug and have a good wallow. Finally, starting to feel dizzy with anticipation, I took a sip.

And it was good.

If God can say that after She created the planet, then I think I'm entitled to the same understatement. OK, let me elaborate: it was great, fabulous, tremendous, extraordinary…shall I go on? I think you all understand.

Several long minutes later, I resurfaced. Xena smiled at me indulgently then turned to more important matters.

"So, what happens now?" she asked the head archangel.

"Well, obviously, we're very pleased with how things turned out," Michael replied with his usual smug smile.

"Obviously." Xena could do cocky too. "You even managed to bring Gabrielle out of Hell and restore her soul."

"Yes, we restored the natural balance." Michael looked like he was waiting for a round of applause. We didn't fulfill his wish.

"And…" Xena said impatiently.

"And, we're so pleased with how things turned out, we'd like to discuss making some kind of permanent arrangement," Michael continued.

"You mean Xena and I can do 'greater good' kind of stuff for awhile?" I asked. I was a little bouncy from the caffeine; I've got to admit that right up front.

"No," Xena replied, her voice pitched in an irritated burr. "He means he wants us to continue doing their dirty work, putting our own souls in danger so they don't have to get a little grime under their fingernails."

"I like Gabrielle's version better," Michael said, looking a little peeved.

"No way," Xena said, shaking her head once in a decisive negative motion. "We've earned our eternal rest and our place in the afterlife. You can't deny us."

Oops, I guess I'd spoken too soon. I hadn't really considered all the options.

Xena glared. Michael glared. I looked at my empty mug and wondered if I could get a refill.

"All right, Xena," he conceded.

Ha! Xena won the battle of wills again. Tell me you're not surprised.

Xena smirked.

"So I won't tell you what we had in mind," Michael continued.

Uh oh, he was cheating.

"No," Xena said, staying firm. "We're not interested."

Well, I was interested, but I decided to stay firm right alongside her. We were partners, after all.

"Not even interested in going after Alti?"

Damn! That was hitting below the belt. I could hear Xena's breath hitch.

Michael went back to glaring. Xena went back to glaring. I crawled under the covers. I had a feeling I wasn't going to be able to enjoy the nice, warm, comfortable bed and body for much longer.

"Gabrielle?" Xena looked down at me. I looked up at her, and our eyes carried on a conversation for a minute.

"OK," Xena said to Michael. "But just this one time. Then we get Paradise."

I wanted to say, "Paradise is in your arms, Xena", but that would be too mushy. I'd tell her later.

Michael flashed a smug smile. Xena growled at him. I pulled her head down and kissed her. After all, I was in a bed in heaven with Xena. What would you do?

*

And so folks, that's the end of my story. But as you probably figured out, it's really just the beginning.

Yeah, I've said it before and I'll say it again: the afterlife isn't at all what I expected…

…It's better.

The End