The knock at the door woke her up from an uneasy sleep. She wiped the sleep from her eyes, and pushed the long locks out of her face. The bard slipped from underneath the covers, and shuffled to the door. "Open," she mumbled, and the door slid aside. She pulled the tea service into the room, and walked over to the window, leaning her head against the glass.

Gwen stood looking down at the humanity that walked the streets far below, then her gaze turned to the river beyond. Her attention was caught by the strong, smooth stride of a figure. She watched the individual stop and stare at the water for a very long moment, and she wondered what thoughts caused the broad shoulders to slump. She felt her muse come to life as a burst of colorful images flashed through her mind. Gwen observed the person lift their burden and straighten their shoulders before moving out of sight. With a smile, the storyteller sat down to her tea, and focused her gaze inward as she began to put the images into a comprehensive story.

When Sal entered the door with a bit of trepidation some time later, he was pleasantly surprised. Gwen was refreshed, the nap apparently having worked a small miracle. He didn’t stop to question, but was simply thankful for the change. The bard waved him over to the window, where she sat drinking tea and working furiously.

"Feeling better, my dear?" A rhetorical question at best, since he could see the difference in her demeanor, but he felt better for the asking. A smile lit her face that he answered in reflex almost immediately.

"Yeah, I do. Thanks for asking."

"I have to take care of my best girl, ya know," he said, wiggling his eyebrows rakishly to emphasize the point. His smile grew even wider when she chuckled and blushed prettily.

"Sal! What would Carmen say?" Now he joined her laughter, but she could see the slow color rising up his neck.

"Oh, honey," he replied gamely. "You flatter me. But we’d adopt you in a heartbeat if we could... you know that."

She looked at him affectionately, laying a hand on his arm. "I know. You’re a good man, Sal Bouvier."

He patted her hand, and turned his gaze out the window. "You ready to go do rehearsals and sound checks?"

"Yep," she said, with more enthusiasm than he’d seen from her in a while. "Let’s go."

Sound and lighting checks went well, though Sal noticed that Gwen’s attention seemed to be focused inwardly instead of what was going on immediately around her. He didn’t bother her, however. The man had seen her creative process in action too many times to disturb her muse when she was working. Instead, he walked her through the motions, getting the technical end taken care of, and feeding her before dropping her back at her room to get some rest. She moved immediately to the window, gazing out at the rain-lashed darkness beyond.

When performance time came, she was ready, though a niggling feeling on the back of her neck was giving her butterflies like she hadn’t had before a presentation in many years. Her mind kept drifting back to the beaten slump of broad shoulders, and she wondered what caused the feeling of utter defeat to emanate so strongly from the being’s soul. Her soul felt the echo of depression, and she made a conscious effort to put her uneasiness aside. Closing her eyes and focusing, she relaxed and felt things settle into place just as a light tapping resounded on the door.

The performance was going smoothly, as everyone expected, when without warning, the bard faltered and hesitated momentarily. For an instant, she thought she had seen a familiar silhouette. It wasn’t a noticeable pause, except to three people, but to them it screamed. Picking up her train of thought, the storyteller finished her performance, almost visibly shaken by the fumbling. Sal wisely did not mention it on the way back from the hotel, having made Gwen’s excuses from the opening night festivities before they left. She was silent, and bid him a quiet goodnight, before closing the door.

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

"I had never been so driven as I was that night. For whatever reason, the muse deemed it imperative that the story I’d been given by the figure at the river be finished and presented that evening, and I worked feverishly long into the night to get the details down." Gwen turned and looked at Randi curiously. "I had never had to fight with the words like that before."

"So, what happened?"

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

Sal’s knock went unanswered the following morning, and he entered the key code he’d been given. When Gwen was on a creative roll, she tended to block the rest of the world out. What he found when he opened the door was alarming.

The storyteller was pacing back and forth, hand gestures rough and frantic. Her bed didn’t look as though it had been slept in, and her demeanor was that of a person on the edge of madness. The man wondered what had come over the normally ebullient bard.

"Gwen," he said softly, not wanting to disturb her process, but knowing he needed to ground her. Gently he took her arm, and led her to the bed. He seated her, removing her shoes and tucking her in. He watched, fascinated, for even as sleep overtook her, her mind continued to fight to complete the daunting task it had set for itself. He stayed til she settled, and fell into a deep dreamless sleep.

When she woke, Gwen felt a sense of peace and calm envelope her. The muse had done her duty, and the new story had been birthed. It remained to be seen how the progeny would develop, though.

"All right, Gwen," the bard murmured to herself backstage. It was mere minutes before her performance was scheduled to start, and the butterflies from the previous night had returned with a vengeance. She took a deep breath and exhaled, closing her eyes and focusing solely on her breathing. The meditation worked wonders, and she felt the butterflies settle lightly in her belly. "We don’t know if they will be here. Just take the story you’ve been given and tell it." Another deep breath. Sal hesitated to interrupt her pep talk to herself, but finally moved over to give her his customary pre-show well-wishes.

"You’re gonna do great, Gwen. I’ve never seen a crowd so expectant, or you so ready." She peered at him then, disbelief clearly written on her features. "No, it’s true," he added, before she could question his sanity aloud. "I know this new story is wracking your nerves, especially since it came to you so unexpectedly and ferociously. But it has given you back a fire that the months of traveling robbed you of. Trust me, hon. I can see it... in your eyes and in your carriage. The muse won’t let you down on this one. Whatever you’ve got this time is a winner."

She smiled at him then, a full smile that lit up her whole face. "Thanks, Sal," she said quietly, pulling him into a brief hug. "I needed that."

"No problem, my dear," he smiled back. Now go get ‘em." She smiled at him again and nodded, stepping away and waiting for the applause to die down after her introduction. When she walked onto the stage, it resumed, and she stood relaxed and silent, suddenly confident in the story she had to tell. It was different than anything she had tried to do publicly before, but she was ultimately, unexplainably sure of the reception it would receive.

When the hall quieted, she spoke with hushed certainty. Instead of the several short tales that generally populated her storytelling, tonight’s rendition contained a single epic story. It told the story of a lonely soul, struggling to do right. She told of the soul’s fight with darkness, and its reshouldering of its burden on a daily basis. And finally, triumphantly, the bard wove the wonder of the soul’s final immersion in the light it sought, and the joy of reuniting with its other half. When she reached the point of victory, Gwen was literally startled out of her story by the roaring approval that echoed throughout the theatre. Her smile shone through her tears, and she felt the overflow of emotion rush through the crowd. For long minutes, they rode the crest of the wave together, before the assembly quieted, and allowed her finish her tale.

Gently, reverently, the bard united the lovers, and settled them into the beginning of their story together. Then with a sweeping bow, she left the stage, and the multitude went wild. Screaming and cheering continued for long minutes, before she returned to the stage.

"I know you would all like to hear more of what happened with these two." Thundering applause greeted this statement. "But I can only give to you what has been given to me. The glimpse I was given of the figure that inspired this tale was much too fleeting. Perhaps one day...." She let the thought trail off. "Thank you all for being here." And she exited the stage without another word. On this one night, she offered no encores, and was in fact asleep before they were halfway back to the hotel.

Sal looked at the blonde head that rested exhaustedly on his shoulder. "That one really wore you out, didn’t it kiddo? Musta hit a lot closer to home than we’ll ever know." Gwen didn’t answer him. She was deeply asleep, and reliving her story in her dreams.

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

"I never saw the figure again. I don’t know who it was, or what it was that my muse found so inspiring. I don’t even know if they ever got the chance to hear that story. I only told it that one time. It was so... personal... for me." A pause. "I don’t understand it, myself. I mean, it’s not like it’s the story of my life or...."

"No," Randi’s now husky voice replied. "But it is mine."

Moss green eyes locked onto teary ice blue. "What do you mean?"

"I was there that night. I heard that story. And I am the figure you saw outside your window the afternoon before." Gwen looked at the warrior disbelievingly... not at her words, but at the fact that once again their paths had crossed inadvertently, and apparently necessarily. Randi felt the need to expand on her statement.

"I was just coming off a routine mission that had gone very well, but I was tired... to the very depths of my soul." Randi sat breathing for a long moment, thinking back to that tumultuous time in her life. "I stood at the riverbank, staring unseeingly at the water and the ducks, wondering if I really made a difference. Wondering if there was actually a point to my life, my work." She paused when Gwen stiffened in her arms at the implication. Randi lightly rubbed the hands locked around her waist, and continued. "Then a couple of kids rode by, laughing and talking, and they stopped and spoke to me. I realized right then, that if they felt that safe, safe enough that they could talk to me without fear, then I must be doing something right. I picked up my rucksack, and moved on to HQ, finding to my delighted surprise that you were in town performing. The base CO was kind enough to rustle me up a week’s worth of tickets, and for days I sat under your tutelage, my soul healing under your gentle ministrations. When I heard that story, I knew whom you were speaking of, and to. You gave me hope that night."

"Oh, love," was all Gwen could manage. They had managed to complete a wide circuit of the town, and were now converging on the barn once again.

"I dunno about you, Little One, but I think I’m ready for a cup of hot chocolate. The sun isn’t as warm as it looks, and the wind is biting." She had planned to give Lancelot a bit more of a workout, but was more concerned about Gwen’s reaction. The warrior herself was still reeling from their mutual revelation, in point of fact, and wanted a little time to sort through the emotions.

Randi heard the tears in her companion’s voice when she spoke, though the smile on her face was equally apparent in the tone. "I’d like that, I think. Let’s take care of Lance, and go home." A beat. "I think I need some private time alone with you to work through this." Another pause. "Besides, I need to do a little research."

The Marine waited patiently for further explanation, but none was forthcoming as they entered the barn and started stripping the stallion’s tack. Lancelot was comfortably ensconced in his stall with fresh feed and water, and the couple was back in the transport headed home before Randi broke the silence.

"Um, Gwen," waiting for the bard’s eyes to turn her way and sharpen in attentive focus. "What do you need to research, love?"

"Hmm?" wondering for a minute just what the Sabre was referring to. Her mind had actually been reviewing a couple other incidents, and wandering through her mental catalogue of Soulmates stories. "Oh, sorry. I was just wondering if any of the others had crossed timelines like we did... you know, influencing one another before actually meeting face to face."

"That’s a good question. Do you think the answer will be in the journals?"

"I hope so, but I dunno. It’s gonna be the best place for us to start looking, though."

They were silent again then, until turning down the short, hidden drive that led to the tiny cabin. "I built this place right after that," Randi informed her partner somewhat unexpectedly. "I took a bit of time off, and came up here and started building." She eased the transport into the shed, and shut down the vehicle.

"C’mon. Let’s go get that hot chocolate, and I’ll tell ya about it." A huge grin was her only answer.

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

Every minute the Sabre could spare was spent in the mountains, carefully choosing the trees she wanted to remove for the tiny cabin she’d decided to build. Slowly, over the months she gathered enough cedar wood for her purposes, stripped it, and set it out in the sun to dry and age.

Gradually, it became the texture she wanted, and she got leave for a long weekend. She was never so glad to have earned her wings in her off time as she was then. Being able to pilot her own shuttle was preferable anytime, but it was necessary to maintain the privacy and solitude she craved from her newfound retreat.

"C’mon, Randi," her dark-skinned friend Brenda called. "Spill it. Where do you go in all this time off you’re taking off?"

"Yeah, what’s up with that? Why the secrecy?" from Nick.

The Marine didn’t answer, but continued to pack her small kit, hefting it to her shoulder when she was done, and moving toward the door.

"Let her be, guys," Tiny called from his bunk. "She probably needs a break from all of us. God knows I could use one some days. Oof!" he finished, as Brenda’s pillow flew with deadly accuracy and pinned him square in the mouth. Randi smirked, though the smile never reached her cerulean eyes, and the pillow fight started in earnest. They never saw her leave.

The physical labor was something the Sabre found soothing, and the cabin frame was up by the end of her first day. She smiled tiredly at her accomplishment, as she moved wearily into the caverns. Her hand went to the wall, flipping the switch to light her way. The small action brought another smile to her face. The caves lighting system had been fraught with trial and error. Her state of the art equipment that was sensitive enough to pick up the barest whisper caused her no end of grief in the echoing hollows of the caverns. Ditto with the less sensitive but still audio triggered clapper switch. Finally, after some serious research, the warrior resorted to creating some old fashioned flipper switches. It took a little longer to figure out how to make them work with her power system, but eventually she reached a compromise. So the caves kept her warm and sheltered while she built her cabin, and she had several ideas of what she wanted to do with several of the caves when she had the chance to improve them.

The following morning, Randi had to get out some of the more sophisticated equipment she’d brought along. There was no way for her hold both ends of each log and drive it into place at the same time. The hover braces kept each log lifted seamlessly at the level necessary to allow Randi the chance to add it to the wall. Slowly, surely the walls went up on the house, and before noon of the third day, the Sabre was ready to begin laying the roof.

Darkness was falling when she placed the final shingle. The shingles were hand cut cedar as well, and fitted together precisely. Randi stepped gingerly down from the roof just as the sun slipped completely beneath the horizon. She stood back for a moment, reflecting on her handiwork proudly.

Her final day of leave, Randi spent hauling river rock for her fireplace, and putting the polymer sealant in between the log cracks. She couldn’t have explained her need to do everything herself the old fashioned way, but never had she felt the same sense of honest accomplishment as she did when she left her newly built cabin in the early morning hours to return back to base.

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

"Wait just a damn minute," came the bard’s disbelieving voice. Gwen’s eyes stared deep into Randi’s. "Hold on there. You mean to sit there and tell me you built this place in four days??"

The Marine chuckled out loud. "Just the rough outline, love. Foundation, walls and roof. It took a lot longer to finish the rest."

"Four days?!? The storyteller repeated. "FOUR DAYS?!?" Now the chuckle turned into a full-fledged belly laugh.

"Yes, Little One. Four days. And more than another two years to completely finish the inside. Plus six months to renovate the cave chambers I altered, and make the rest of them safe. I learned a lot of patience on this project, but I am proud of the results. I put a lot of myself into this place."

As if for the first time, Gwen took a good look around the snug, well-made cabin. The floor was smooth as glass, a high gloss polish seemingly inches thick on the cedar wood. The inner polymer seals on the logs were spaced exactly an inch apart, and the grooves that mounted the wooden shelving to the wall were flawless. The shelves and cabinets were smooth and level, with interesting little bits of scrollwork carved into them. The countertop, she suddenly realized, was hand-tooled from materials found in the caverns. And the fireplace that took up half of the one wall was a work of art, and well crafted. Gwen caught the inquisitive look in her companion’s eyes.

"You are amazing, you know that?" the bard blurted unexpectedly.

A slow lazy grin formed on the Marine’s face, lighting her blue eyes until they seemed to glow. "I have many skills," she drawled with a smirk, until her soulmate batted her in the stomach. "But this was actually very therapeutic for me," she added seriously. "It was important for me to be creative. It gave me a direction away from the killing and the death."

They both sat quietly for a time after that, neither sure what to say. Finally Gwen whispered, "I’m glad you had this." She swallowed hard. "If I couldn’t be there for you, I’m glad you had something like this to help. The work you put into this place is truly incredible. I can see so much of you here."

"I think," Randi answered slowly, "that if things had been different, I would have been a builder. I’m no artist, but I enjoy working with my hands."

Gwen looked for a long moment at the finely crafted and superbly fitted furnishings that grace the cabin interior. Floor to ceiling, it was a work of art, but the gleam in the blue eyes told her that Randi didn’t view the work the same way. The bard took the large, calloused hands in her own and caressed them tenderly. "I think you can be anything you want to be." She reached up a hand to stroke the scar that was noticeably faded even in the dim light. "I believe in you."

Tears welled up in Randi’s eyes at the simple, profound statement. "And I believe in you, Little One. I always have." The warrior opened her strong arms, and the storyteller slid into the spot reserved for her alone. They kissed softly, and the afternoon faded into evening in quiet, sleepy contentment as the two dozed in one another’s arms.

They hadn’t slept two hours when they woke from their nap. Or rather, Gwen woke to gentle, tickling kisses being rained upon her neck and shoulders. As soon as Randi realized the bard was awake, she escalated her attack, shifting to put Gwen completely beneath her and deepening her kisses. The blonde moaned languidly, smiling when she felt the Sabre do the same above her. The couple separated to breathe, only to have the silence broken by a low rumbling. They looked at each other, and burst into laughter.

"Guess we’d better feed the beasts, huh?"

"Yeah, before the neighbors in town come looking for the earthquake." Still chuckling, they moved to the kitchen, and began fixing dinner together.

"Did you ever use a staff before we started working together?" the Sabre questioned her partner. They were in a cleared space of the gym chamber sparring. Randi was once more impressed by Gwen’s natural aptitude for the weapon, and continued to encourage her to become more aggressive with her use of it.

A furrow formed in the blonde’s brow as she thought over the question while trying to maintain her focus of thought on the exercise match. "Um...." Smack. Swipe. Crack. "Sort of, I guess, maybe, but not really."

Now it was the Marine’s turn to frown. Muttering, "Sorta, I guess, maybe, but not really. Uh huh. Very informative. Yep. A LOT of help there." She pulled up, catching the younger woman’s staff with a sharp popping sound, and grimaced inwardly at the strength behind the blow. Randi was gonna have to start being more careful. It was a sure bet Gwen didn’t know her own strength at this point. "You wanna be a little more specific, please?"

"Can we finish sparring first?" Gwen asked shyly. "I’ve missed this."

A feral grin crossed the warrior face as she released Gwen’s stave, and returned her own to a ready position. "Certainly, Little One. I’ve missed this as well."

For almost an hour, the only sounds echoing throughout the grotto were the solid thunks of wood upon wood and the slight quickening of two sets of breathing. The hits kept a rhythm, then suddenly the pace increased rapidly before ending abruptly. Now only the fast, heavy breathing of the two women could be heard as they locked eyes in the charged silence. Randi was the first to break it.

"You’re getting better, Gwen." she stated, stepping away and leaning the practice stave in the corner. "I mean, you’ve always been something of a natural, but you’re obviously become more comfortable with your staff. You seem more sure of yourself."

The bard blushed furiously at the compliment and dropped her gaze. Randi reached out with both hands, taking the staff in one hand, and raising the younger woman’s chin with her other. Another hot blush raced across Gwen’s face as their eyes met. The bard had to grin at the arched eyebrow the warrior gave her, then Randi responded with a smile of her own.

"Thank you," Gwen whispered. "It feels a little more a part of me every time I work with it," she added a little louder.

"As it should," the Marine stated, putting an arm around the blonde and dropping a kiss on the top of her head. "If you keep it up, you’ll be the best I’ve ever seen... maybe even better than I am with it."

Gwen stopped dead in her tracks then, and looked at the Sabre in amazement. "Excuse me?"

"Okay, you’re excused," Randi replied, resuming their forward motion with a slight tug on the bard’s shoulders. She waited patiently, knowing the questions would come.

Gwen, for her part was flabbergasted, trying to wrap her mind around the fact that someone as decorated as her Marine could think that about her ability. She *had* gotten better, and in fact felt very comfortable with her progress, but still. To hear Randi say something like that aloud was....

"Why do you think that?" finally making sense of the questions swirling in her brain. "You’re one of the best there is."

Now it was Randi’s blush at the bard’s frank compliment, especially since she knew the praise was sincere and not just hollow flattery. She nodded indicating both her acknowledgement of the tribute to her skills, and the truth of her words. "Yes," she agreed slowly, "but it is not my only weapon, and not usually my weapon of choice. I am most comfortable with a blade, even more so than with a laser or a gun, though I am a top Mariussmen in all of them."

Gwen nodded her head at this statement, as though it was the most natural declaration in the world.

"You have a natural aptitude for the staff," Randi continued. "You took to it like a duck to water, and you are far advanced to where most students are at this point in their training. It’s almost as though you were born to it."

Gwen chuckled, and Randi looked at her in surprise. "Share?"

Green eyes twinkled as they re-entered the cabin. "C’mon, Stud. Let’s get ready for bed, and I’ll tell you just how natural I *wasn’t* with this thing once upon a time."

The sun had barely risen, and Randi knew she hadn’t been asleep for very long when she woke up with a blinding headache, her face burning along the length of the scar. She moaned in pain, struggling to get up. Simply rolling out of Gwen’s embrace had been agonizing. Randi wasn’t sure what a change in latitudes would do. She never got the chance to find out.

"Randi? Love?" came the seemingly shouted voice of Gwen directly behind her. "Are you all right?" The bard reached out a hand toward the Marine, but Randi flinched violently at a mere brush of her skin. Gwen pulled back, hurt and stung at the reaction, then she noticed her soulmate’s tremors. This time she reached forward firmly, and grasped the trembling woman, pulling Randi into her arms. A double gasp... one of intense pain from Randi, who was struggling desperately not to yank herself away from Gwen and hide away privately in her agony as she’d always done before. The other gasp fell from Gwen’s lips as she got her first look at the fire red streak that ran the length of Randi’s jaw.

Hesitantly, she lifted a hand to touch it, and Randi reflexively stilled her internal fight as Gwen’s soothing contact brought relief from the burning pain. Her head still pounded in time with her heartbeat, but the Sabre curled herself into the bard’s body, and tried to will the pain away. Gwen kept one hand on the scar, and the other began a firm kneading at the base of Randi’s neck.

The bard hit a particularly sensitive spot, and Randi leapt from the bed, eyes blazing fiercely. "DON’T TOUCH ME!!!" she screamed, reaching for her head. She fell to her knees, keening in agony. Gwen stared at her, torn between hurt and concern. Concern rapidly won out, but just as she reached out a hand towards the warrior, Randi collapsed unconscious at her feet.

"RANDI!" Gwen screamed, even as she fell to her knees beside her Marine. She reached out a tentative hand, pulling back when the warrior curled into a fetal position. Now, without hesitation, the bard wrapped herself around Randi, struggling to pull her into her arms. Finally, she succeeded, and stopped for a long moment to catch her breath.

Randi’s blue eyes opened for a long moment, then closed again without a flicker of recognition. Gwen closed her eyes at the pain of it. She noted in the back of her mind the fact that Randi no longer flinched at her touch, a fact for which she was devoutly thankful. Instead the Sabre gave no reaction at all.

The bard eased away from the warrior, sadly comforted by the whimpers and searching Randi made when Gwen moved out of touch. The blonde woman spent several minutes arranging a semi-restful nest for them to relax in until Randi woke up.

Gwen arranged herself, and gently drew Randi into her arms again. From her deep, even breathing, it was clear to Gwen that the Sabre was in an intense state of sleep. Yet she turned in the bard’s arms and snuggled up so tightly to her that Gwen couldn’t move. It was then that the storyteller noted the fierce inflamed look of the scar, and she lifted a hand to cover it. The initial contact was so forcefully painful Gwen felt herself beginning to black out. She wrenched her hand away, breathing deeply and trying to stabilize her equilibrium. When the searing electric shock faded to a slight buzzing, she stared in fascination first at her hand, and then at the now somewhat faded disfiguring wound. Gwen looked at her hand again, and steeling herself with a deep breath, made contact with the blemish again.

Again there was searing pain, but not so great that it caused near unconsciousness, and the bard gritted her teeth and held on for dear life until the agony faded into nothingness. Her hand slipped down to cradle Randi’s neck protectively even as she joined her soulmate in a fathomless healing sleep.

When the blue eyes opened again, it was early afternoon. She felt drained, and her eyes and limbs seemed exceptionally heavy. The Marine closed her eyes, her forehead scrunching up in confused thought as she tried to understand why she and Gwen were curled together on the floor in a makeshift nest of pillows and blankets. And how did we end up down here any way? The last thing I remember....

A smile chased itself across her face as lascivious images from the night before passed through her mind’s eye. She cuddled closer into Gwen’s body, relishing the scent of her. Randi lay there in a light doze until she felt Gwen’s fingers trailing lightly through her hair. The Marine looked up at the bard with a lazy smile.

"Hello, love."

Gwen gave the Sabre a tentative smile in return, gently caressing the scar before cupping Randi’s face in her hand. She saw recognition in the blue orbs, and her mind relaxed faintly. She also felt the warrior leaning into her touch, and felt her nerves uncoil a bit.

"Hi," Gwen replied softly. "How do you feel?"

Randi gave the question due consideration. "Tired... exhausted, actually. Disoriented. How did we end up on the floor exactly?"

"What’s the last thing you remember?" Gwen answered one question with another.

"Making love with you all night long and falling asleep wrapped around you just before dawn this morning." She watched as the bard’s brow furrowed at some unpleasant memory, and frowned in response. "What did I miss?"

The storyteller sighed heavily, and looked at the woman cradled in her arms with compassion. "The entire morning, it seems." She hesitated, then continued. "You woke up in severe pain, and passed out from it." She didn’t see the need to tell the dark haired woman about her cutting words and reaction. "The scar...." Her voice trailed off in thought.

Randi lifted a hand to cover Gwen’s. "What about it?"

"Something is going on. Something... I dunno, love. I’ve never.... It was a fiery red color, and when I touched it, the pain...." Her voice seized up in memory. The Marine tenderly clasped her shoulders.

"What, Little One? What happened?"

"It hurt... God, so badly. But the longer I touched it, the more it faded. And you seemed to rest better."

Tears rushed into Randi’s eyes, and a single tear tracked down her face before she could stop it. "Oh, love. I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you." The words were soothing especially in that Randi’s apology touched on hurts she was unaware of having caused. "I would never...."

"I know, Stud. I know. It’s all right. I would suffer anything for you. I just wish I knew how to fix this. There’s something here I’m not understanding. It’s like looking for the keystone to a puzzle."

Randi threaded her hands into the blonde hair, and pulled Gwen down for a brief, passionate kiss. "I love you. We’ll figure this out."

Gwen leaned down to capture the warrior’s lips for a long time. "I hope so, love," she whispered when they parted. Intense eyes locked onto her own.

"We will."

They were both subdued after a shower and a light meal. Too tired to go for the walk they’d planned, they settled in on the couch, and watched the dancing flames of the fire.

"Will you tell me another story?" the Marine asked into the silence. Gwen flashed her a grin.

"Isn’t it your turn?"

"Um, yeah, but.... Please?"

"It’s a good thing I love you so much." Gwen peered at Randi, seeing the fatigue and confusion etched deeply into the planes of her face. She coaxed the warrior into laying her head in the bard’s lap. Gently she stroked the thick, dark mane, smiling at the contented murmurs that rose from Randi’s lips. The Marine slid on arm around the blonde’s back, and wrapped the other around Gwen’s knees. "What kind of story would you like?"

"A Soulmates story," Randi responded immediately. "A happy one."

Gwen smiled. "A happy one, huh?" She tenderly scratched the warrior’s scalp, her smile becoming a grin at the purring she felt rumbling from Randi’s chest. "You sound a lot like a cat there, love." An outraged blue eye opened and peered in her direction. "A very big, very dangerous, very satisfied cat."

Randi couldn’t contain the chuckled that sprung from her lips and turned into a full-fledged belly laugh. "Nice save there, Little One."

"Um hmm. I thought so," she said with the tiniest smirk, then gently eased the eyelid shut. "Now hush and listen." She kissed the tanned forehead, and sat up, surprised when blue appeared again. It didn’t close until the bard resumed her tender ministrations on Randi’s head. The Marine sighed in bliss.

"Let me tell you about a time long ago."

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

The War Between the States was over, but bad feelings pervaded throughout South and North. Beau packed his bag, glancing around the room that had been his sanctuary all the years of his life until the war came. They had been lucky. It really didn’t look much different, but everything on the Virginia plantation had changed.

"You don’t have to go, brother. There is plenty to be done around here." Michael smiled sadly at the melancholy look in his younger sibling’s bright blue eyes. They’d shared some bitter words, fought on opposite sides of the war and eventually come home to realize that home wasn’t the same anymore. Their youngest brother who’d chosen neither north nor south, but had stayed home to help his mother and sister tend the plantation, had been brutally murdered by a rogue band of outlaws six days before the ceasefire was signed. Now, nine weeks after coming home, Beau was packing to leave again... this time for good.

"No, Mikey," using the nickname he’s always called his older brother until the war had separated them. "I do have to go. This is not home for me anymore. You have a new bride, and Elizabeth is due to wed Andrew in the fall. There is no place for me here now."

Michael nodded, accepting the veracity of Beau’s words, and the feelings behind them. They had settled things between them, but Michael knew how the younger man felt. There were days he would give anything to leave and start over. Sometimes being responsible just sucked.

"Will you at least write occasionally? Let us know where you are and how you are doing?"

"Yes. I don’t want Mama coming after my behind." The brothers, who looked so much alike they could have been twins if not for the two-year age difference, chuckled. Mama had aged, and the war had done its worst, but she was still a formidable woman.

"Where will you go?"

"I’ve given it a bit of thought. The government is offering land to settlers out west. Think I may do some looking in that direction." He straightened, and hefted his case. He held out his hand as he approached his brother. "Wish me luck, Mikey. Ya’ll are gonna be fine."

The older man took the younger in a stunningly strong hug, and the brothers embraced for a long moment. "So are you, little brother. Sure you don’t want a ride to the station?"

"Nah. I’ll say my goodbyes here. I’ll let you know where I end up."

"See that you do."

Fourteen months later, the younger Southern soldier had staked a small claim in the west. His small herd was comfortably pastured, and he had a sizeable garden plot at one side of his cabin. Daily he worked hard to make things successful and as late spring approached he began making plans for his first roundup.

Things were snug and tight, and Beau decided he needed a trip into the not-so-nearby town to pick up some much needed supplies. On his way into town, he found a family in distress. Their wagon had broken a wheel, and Beau was quick to help the man repair it, though it took the better part of the day to get it done.

MacDonnell had a wife and six daughters, ranging in age from eighteen down to three. Beau offered to escort the family into town, and the older man accepted the help and the guidance readily. He was dismayed to find that the soldier had fought for the Southern side, but Beau was so polite and courteous that he decided to try and overlook what he considered to be a glaring flaw.

MacDonnell watched the young man who was pleasant and respectful to his wife and himself, yet steadfastly keep away from his daughters. His manners were impeccable, and it was clear that he had been well raised. Beau’s conversation gave him insight into a keen intellect, to the point that the older man understood and accepted his reasoning for fighting on the "wrong side" of the war.

When the town came into view late the next afternoon, MacDonnell felt a bit of a letdown. He had enjoyed the young man’s company, and was fairly certain his eldest daughter was smitten as well. He’d noticed the furtive glances she’d cast Beau’s way when she thought no one was looking. And he’d seen the blue eyes stray in Sarah’s direction more than once. MacDonnell wondered, then thought... Well, she could certainly do worse. I’ve never seen her take to a young man like she’s obviously taken to this one. No wonder she couldn’t find one back East. Do you suppose....

MacDonnell didn’t have time to speculate anymore, as Beau was dismounting his wagon and holding out his hand in farewell. The soldier hated to leave her, *them* Beau corrected his thoughts silently, but he had no excuse to linger. Funny that he was no longer anxious to carry out the plans for the evening that he’d been looking forward to for months.

"Thank you, son," MacDonnell said, clasping the proffered hand. "You were a godsend."

"Glad I could help, sir. But if you’ll excuse me, I have to get to the general store."

The older man nodded, noting Sarah’s crestfallen expression out of the corner of his eyes. "We have to pick up a few supplies ourselves. Will you join us for dinner? Please," he added when he saw the young man’s hesitation. "I have a proposition for you."

Finally, Beau cast his eyes briefly in Sarah’s direction, noting the hopeful look in her beautiful green eyes. "All right, sir. I’d be honored." His expression never changed, but Beau couldn’t stop the twinkle that glittered in his eyes. He didn’t miss the swiftly hidden smile that crossed Sarah’s features, either.

The children were well behaved in the store, and it was a short time later that they were loading supplies into the two wagons. "The hotel is right down this way," Beau motioned in the twilight. "That’s where the local restaurant is," he added shyly. "They serve a pretty good roast beef, if I recall correctly."

He had remembered perfectly. MacDonnell seated his wife, and Beau provided the same service for Sarah. Seated around a circular table, they were positioned to look at one another without overtly staring. MacDonnell watched them watching each other, and it occurred to him that the Soulmates were soon going to be reunited. He smiled sadly... glad for the fulfillment of prophecy, and sad for the imminent loss of his daughter to this man who was still in many ways such a stranger to them.

The conversation flowed well among the adults, with the younger children only breaking in occasionally. Finally, as the waitress appeared with their dessert, MacDonnell turned to engage Beau in a more private conversation

"I need your help," the older man stated quite bluntly. Beau cocked an eyebrow in question, and waited quietly for him to continue. MacDonnell sighed. "I need to get a decent shelter built for my family." The young Southerner nodded his head in agreement. He had been lucky in that it only took him a few days to dig a sod hut for himself that first winter, and he had only had himself to think of. Mac had an entire family of females to worry about, and though Beau acknowledged the truth that his mama had instilled in him by example about a woman’s strength, he also felt they deserved whatever comfort he could provide. And the tugging he felt in his very soul towards Sarah....

"I was planning to hire some men, but some of what I have seen out here so far...." he paused. "You’ve given me every reason to trust you," with a glance toward Sarah, "and none not to. I know Rebecca and the girls would help," the older man was saying, "but I...." MacDonnell broke off when Beau raised his hand.

"Sir, I would be glad to help you, but a lot depends on where you are planning to build. I only have a few men right now, and I can’t leave the herd for an extended period of time." He stopped speaking when the older man took a map from his breast pocket. Sarah and Rebecca were listening intently, but neither broke the silence.

"This is the town here," Mac said pointing. "I own this area here." He motioned to an area that was back the way they had come, and a little farther north. Beau’s eyes widened when he realized MacDonnell’s land butted his own, but he didn’t say anything. He simply nodded his agreement.

"Do you know where you’d like to build?"

Mac indicated a small valley. "I thought here would be the best. There is a spring nearby." He sat quietly, watching Beau’s gaze go inward for a time. When he refocused, the Southerner looked at Mac.

"May I offer a suggestion?"

"Please," with a nod.

"Leave the women here for two weeks. We can get a sod shelter built that they can be comfortable enough in until you can get established, and have the time and materials to build a more permanent home."

Mac nodded his head, considering the younger man’s words. Then he looked towards his wife. "Mama?" was all he said, but the word conveyed layers of meaning.

"I like the idea mostly, but the girls and I prefer to accompany you. We can certainly make due in a temporary shelter until things get settled. There are things we can be doing while you men are building."

Beau nodded his head in acceptance of her speech. "I was only thinking of your comfort ma’am. I had no wish to offend."

She looked him directly in the eye, and he noticed for the first time the green so like that of Sarah’s. "I appreciate your thoughtfulness, Beau. You didn’t offend. But I have no desire to be separated from my husband this close to our goal. We came out west for a new beginning, and we are going to start it together."

"Yes ma’am." The young man drew a deep breath. "May I make another suggestion?" He waited for Rebecca to nod before he continued. "Ya’ll come stay at my place until we get the temporary shelter built. It will only take a few days. Ya’ll can stay in the house, and I’ll bunk down in the barn." Beau held up his hand stopping her speech. He pointed to a spot on the map. "This is my property line. And here is my place. We can easily go back and forth in a couple hours everyday if need be."

"I think we should take the lad up on the offer, Mama. I would feel better knowing you had a roof, even a temporary one over your head again."

Rebecca considered Mac’s words, knowing the long wagon trek had been draining on all of them. "You’ll come home every night?" letting a little of her unease slip out unbidden.

"Yes, dear. We’ll come back every night before dark."

"Very well, then. If Beau will allow us to do something in return, I would appreciate the offer very much."

"I don’t have.... I’m sure we can come up with a suitable arrangement," seeing the proud look that was reflected in Mac and Sarah’s eyes as well. "Maybe some help with the garden or something," he mumbled.

"That we can do," with an approving nod. "Come now, children," she said, rising to her feet. "It is time for bed. Your father has arranged a room for us tonight."

Beau hesitated, torn between what he wanted, and what he needed to do. The want won out when he caught Sarah’s eyes on him, and he took Mac aside privately for a word. At the older man’s gruff nod, he relaxed, and approached the young woman with a shy smile.

"Your father has given permission for us to take a short stroll through the town, if you are willing." He could have kicked himself for his seeming lack of graceful words, but he completely lost his train of thought when the small warm hand curled around his muscular arm. Father and mother exchanged knowing glances and smiled in sad knowledge. Their little girl was all grown up.

Beau and Sarah walked down the short street without talking for a few minutes. They were simply absorbing the feelings of soul contentment and familiarity, and trying to find some way to bridge the awkward newness of actually getting to know one another.

"It is so different out here, isn’t it?" Sarah observed quietly. They had crossed the street and walked by the noisy saloon on the far side of the road, and she’d clutched his arm a little tighter until they were well past. "Boston was never like this. At least," she amended as his twinkling blue eyes turned in her direction, "not that I was ever exposed to. Papa...."

"What brought you out here?" Beau asked kindly, trying to ease her discomfiture.

"Papa wanted a new life. He was a professor before the war, but it wasn’t the same after Sean was killed."

"I’m so sorry."

"Thank you." She gave him a smile. They walked on in silence to the end of the street, before slowly turning around and heading back the way they came.

"But why did you come?" the young man asked, pushing for reasons he couldn’t understand himself. Good manners dictated that he back off and let the subject alone, but there was something so about Sarah that called to him. Not just her outward beauty, though truth be told he’d been smitten the moment he’d looked into those green, green eyes. There was something about her that answered the restless calling in his soul. He wanted to know everything.

Late afternoon shadows were making interesting patterns on the walls when Randi opened her eyes again. She looked up at the bard who still cradled her, wondering how she could possibly be comfortable with her neck at such an awkward angle. She ran gentle hands up the slim sides, noting with some amusement that Gwen was even ticklish in her sleep.

"Gwen," she whispered, not wanting to startle the younger woman out what was, by the expression on her face, a very pleasant dream. "Gwen," rubbing her hands over smooth rib muscles. "Wake up, love."

Green eyes opened sleepily, and blinked in confusion until they caught the blue peering back at her. "Hi," she murmured sleepily, then looked around in surprise. "OUCH!" came the exclamation upon moving her head. "That was not the most brilliant thing I have ever done," she moaned as she tried to rub the stiffness out of her neck." She looked down at the woman in her lap. "How do you feel?"

"Well," Randi replied, grinning slyly. "I had the most comfortable pillow in the world," moving her head between the bard’s thighs and breasts. "So I feel great!"

"Wonderful! You can fix dinner then," Gwen added with a smirk. "And it’s your turn to tell a story." She chuckled at the chagrined look on the warrior’s face. "Heh."

A slow, sexy grin eased its way across Randi’s face. "I’ll make a deal with you."

"I’m listening."

"You help me with dinner and...."

"And?"

"And I will get the kink out of your neck and shoulders. A real nice rubdown."

Gwen looked at the Sabre speculatively, tugging slightly on her ear in thought. Finally, she pursed her lips and nodded. "As long as it stays a massage, it’s a deal." The bard blushed at the raised eyebrow. "Being with you is an incredible experience for me. Since we made love for the first time, all I can think about is immersing myself in you. I can almost feel our souls bonding, blending together to form the one whole that we are meant to be."

"But?"

"But honestly, I’m a little sore. And you still look tired from whatever it was that happened today."

Randi rolled off the couch and stood, reaching a hand down to Gwen. "I am, actually. It is driving me nuts trying to figure out what in the hell is going on. Why I don’t remember it." She scratched the back of her neck, then wrapped the arm around Gwen’s shoulders, brushing a kiss on the top of the blonde head. The Marine leaned down to whisper in the bard’s ear. "Besides, I’m a little sore myself. But you are a craving impossible for me to ignore." A slight blush covered the warrior’s face now. "I love you; I want you; I desire you. But over and above all that, I need you... like I need air to breathe, and water to drink."

Gwen smiled through the tears that flooded her eyes. "That has to be one of loveliest, most romantic things you have ever said to me." She cupped a hand around Randi’s cheek. "You are my reason," and she urged the warrior’s soft lips to meet her own in a soul melding kiss. Then Gwen pulled away with a light peck. "I love you." A rumble interrupted any further words. The Marine chuckled.

"C’mon, Little One. Let’s go fix dinner. I’m starving."

"Ya know, most people don’t have steak, eggs and marshmallows together," Gwen commented with a smirk. She was bringing the iced tea in, while Randi walked behind her carrying the condiments. Their plates were already sitting on the hearth in front of a roaring fire. Propped up nearby were two carefully fashioned sticks, each already adorned with two marshmallows on their ends.

"We’re not having them together," Randi replied in amused exasperation. "Those are for dessert," with an almost virtuous air.

"Uh huh," came the bard’s skeptic answer. "So you came into the kitchen with marshmallow on your lips because...."

"Well, I had to make sure the fire was the right temperature, didn’t I?" But she couldn’t help the tiny grin that crossed her lips or the twinkle that sparkled from bright blue eyes.

"You are so busted, gunny. Besides," Gwen pulled the warrior’s head down to meet her mouth and darted out her tongue to lick Randi’s lips meticulously. "You missed some," she finally finished with a mischievous smile. Randi just stood blinking for a long moment.

"Whoo boy," she muttered, and seated herself on the fur, leaning back into the pillows.

They sat eating in comfortable silence after that for a bit, enjoying the food and one another’s companionship. As the eating slowed to a more conversational level, the bard turned to Randi. "Can I have a story now?"

The Marine swallowed and nodded. "Anything in particular you’d like to hear about, sweetheart?" she asked with a fond smile.

Gwen gazed at the fire thoughtfully for a minute, then turned and looked at Randi. "Do you have any funny Sabre stories? I mean... so much of... what I’ve heard about that part of your life was...."

"Horrifying? Disgusting?"

"Frightening," the bard interrupted, cutting into the pronounced bitterness in Randi’s tone. She set her nearly finished plate on the hearth, and took the warrior’s as well. Then she clasped Randi’s hands in her own, gently chafing them. "I understand all too well what was required of you as a Sabre. What you endured... it scared the life out of me. Still does," she added quietly, though the Marine heard her well enough. "I would just like to hear some of your good memories, if you can share them."

"Good memories, huh?" Randi rubbed her chin thoughtfully, then broke into a delighted grin. "I know just the thing," almost chuckling in her eagerness. "Lay down and get comfortable and I’ll tell you about the mission from hell."

Gwen, already stretching out in front of the hearth, halted her movement, and turned her torso in Randi’s direction. "Waitaminute. A mission from hell is funny?"

"Well," the taller woman commented as she moved into position over the bard, and gently coaxed Gwen down onto the pillows. "It wasn’t at the time of course, but looking back, it had to be one of the funniest escapades I’d ever endured." Seeing the persistent frown on her lover’s face, Randi continued. "Trust me. You know how you can have days that absolutely nothing goes your way?" Gwen nodded, sighing as the warrior’s strong hands began to work the stiff muscles in her neck. "Well imagine that happening to nine people simultaneously."

Green eyes popped open, and the blonde head lifted slightly from the pallet. "You have got to be kidding me."

"Oh no, my bard. Every word of this story is true."

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

Five years into her Sabre service, Randi was tapped for what should have been a standard recon mission. The team was made up of people she’d worked with many times in the past and felt comfortable with. The Marine expected a routine in and out job. What she got was anything but routine.

She should have suspected there was going to be trouble with this particular mission immediately. Randi was abruptly awakened from the light doze she’d just fallen into by an angry muttering. A blue eye popped open and peered at her comrade backlit by the midday glare.

"Problem, Chase?" she burred.

"YES, Goddamn it!!" He ran a hand through sandy blonde hair. "I’ve got the wrong fucking bag. A raised eyebrow caused him to stumble into an explanation. "Jess got sent out this morning too, and um... we were running late." He blushed slightly. "The bags are identical, and we scooped them up literally running out the door." He held up some mostly practical, but still very feminine cotton underwear. "What the hell am I supposed to do with this?"

A short, black woman sauntered into view. She chuckled. "Well, not what you usually do, I’ll bet." Brenda laughed louder as Chase flushed a deep scarlet, and she plopped down next to Randi. "I don’t think it’s quite his color," with another chuckle.

The male Sabre slammed the things back into his bag, and stalked off muttering under his breath. Brenda motioned at his back.

"He thinks *he’s* got it bad? Wait til Jess finds out he has her chocolate." Now Randi chuckled too, knowing Jess was as fond of the treat as she herself was. It would be ugly, and she almost felt sorry for the other team.

They ate a bite of lunch, and were packed and ready to leave when Nick came running out of the woods he had disappeared into a short time before. He didn’t even slow down as he raced by them, uttering a single word in a perfectly calm, rational tone. "Run," he said. Behind him lumbered the biggest black bear any of them had ever seen outside a holo chamber or a zoo. They didn’t need any more encouragement. The Sabre team scattered like leaves in the wind. The bear hesitated, confused and then continued to chase Nick. It took the unit the remainder of the day to regroup, and by then, several other things had just plain gone wrong.

Tiny had managed to find the bee’s nest that the bear had been raiding before Nick had disturbed his lunch. The bees were extremely unhappy with this second disruption to their day, and set out after the big man with a vengeance. Tiny hadn’t been a track man his whole life for naught, though, and he made it to the nearby water with only a couple stings and completely wet armor. He faired better than Lacey had, however.

She had managed to find the water as well, but she had found the shallow end. The shallow, muddy end that dropped right off into a mud pit. A mud pit Lacey had to launch herself into when she heard the loud, buzzing approach of a hive of angry bees. There wasn’t a single part of the medic left untouched by black, clinging mud. Lacey stood when the insects gave up their hunt, and glared at Tiny as he rose slowly while the water ran off him in rivulets. He just shrugged his shoulders helplessly and began slogging his way back to shore.

Meanwhile, the rest of the team was having difficulties of their own. Brenda had shimmied up a tree, hoping the ursine mammal would not look up if he headed in her direction. Not a bad plan, really, until her handhold turned out to be a squirrel’s nest. The squirrel was furious with the intrusion, and thinking the Sabre’s hand was a thief, preceded to take a hefty bite of the nearest finger. Brenda bit her lip through to keep from crying out. The back of her hand was raked by sharp, cutting claws, and it was by sheer grit alone that the Sabre managed to maintain her hold on the tree with the other hand. Brenda adjusted her weight and sat down among the leafy foliage hidden from view, and tenderly cradled her injured hand. She could only hope the squirrel’s scolding chatter wouldn’t draw the bear’s attention.

Marius wasn’t so lucky with his tree experience. In his haste to get away from the bear, he neglected to watch his step and hesitated an instant too long on a dead, rotting branch. The wood gave way beneath him, and with a smothered, inarticulate oath, he plunged earthward. Not a long drop, but far enough that when he hit the ground he fell forward, right into Tabitha’s arms. His momentum carried them both to the ground, and the impact drove the wind from their lungs and knocked his forehead against her cheekbone. For long minutes all either of them could see were stars.

"Damn, Zamansky!" Tabitha pushed the larger man off of her, and struggled to get up until a wave of dizziness forced her to lie back down again. "I knew you always wanted me, but geez, you coulda at least *asked* first," she teased him lightly. The dark-skinned man blushed to the roots of his hair so badly Tabitha could feel the heat radiating. "How’s your head?" she asked quietly. She had the peculiar feeling she’d hit a sore spot, and she didn’t want to embarrass him further.

Marius lifted a hand to his throbbing head. "It hurts. But I don’t think it’s gonna bruise like your face will." He moved his hand from his head to her chin, lifting Tabitha’s face so he could get a good look at the injured area. "Oh yeah," he said softly. "That is gonna be quite the shiner." He slowly pulled himself into a sitting position. "I guess we’d better go find the others." He started to rise, but halted all movement when a pale hand covered his dark one.

"It can wait five minutes for us to be steady. The world is still swirling for me."

He laid back down, and closed his eyes. "A few minutes can’t hurt." He swallowed, absently running his fingers gingerly over the now swelling bump. "Wonder how the rest of the team is doing?"

The rest of the team wasn’t faring too badly right at that point in time. Of course, it took mere minutes for that fact to completely change.

Correctly figuring that the immediate danger was over, both Cam and Randi had started back to rendezvous with the unit. Cam walked silently along, alert but chuckling to himself over the predicament Nick had inadvertently managed to place them all in. He heard the rustling and stopped dead to listen, a move that cost him dearly. Without any further warning, the bear’s female mate stepped from the woods, and the two foes stood within inches of each other. She swiped a paw at him, only to find him gone. She roared in frustration then fell to all fours and waddled back the way she had come.

Cam waited until he heard no more sound before he sat up slowly and peeked around. It was then he noticed the foliage that had cushioned his face first landing.

"Oh shit!"

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

The bard lifted up so she could turn her upper body towards the warrior who still sat straddle across her hips. "You are making this up."

Randi shook her head, and eased Gwen’s head back down to the pillows. She spent a moment admiring the sculpted back muscles before resuming her massage, and answering the accusation. "Oh no, my bard. Every single word of this is true. We had to file reports on it and everything. Even earned a unit commendation for it."

Gwen thought about it a moment. "That makes sense, I guess, given the handicaps you were working with by the time you actually got to the recon part of the mission. So what happened to you?"

"Mumble, mumble, mutter, mutter."

"I’m sorry, gunny; I didn’t catch that."

"You really don’t want to hear about that. It wasn’t much of anything really."

"Then you won’t mind sharing it."

Broad shoulders slumped, and Randi sighed silently. Maybe Gwen wouldn’t laugh *too* much.

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

Randi was making her way back to the spot where they’d split up, knowing it would be the first place everyone would return to for a rendezvous. A thumping sound alerted her, but before she could move, Nick strong-armed her out of his way as he sped by, the bear still on his heels. The Marine had time to wonder what on earth the man had done to make the bear so angry before her attention turned to the bramble bushes she’d been knocked into. Thank God for Kevlar and titanium, she thought, knowing she was well protected over most of her body. Fortunately, he’d thrown her butt first, so her face hadn’t been affected by the briars at all.

A rustling to her left caused her to freeze, and cut her eyes in the direction of the sound. What she saw caused Randi’s eyes to widen and then close, just before the skunk sprayed a noxious fume in her direction before scampering off.

For a long moment, the Sabre refused to breathe, knowing the scent was going to be intolerable. When her ears began to ring from lack of oxygen, Randi drew as shallow a breath as she could manage only to find that even that tiny inhalation caused her eyes to water incessantly. Disgusted, she untangled herself from the briar patch, snatched up her bag, and headed for the rendezvous point once more.

When she stumbled into the makeshift camp, no one said a word. But when Nick stumbled in, covered from head to foot in tar, the entire outfit fell to the ground in laughter.

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

"It took the entire next day to recover from it. Bren got a tetanus shot for the squirrel bite, I had to sit through two hours worth of decon, Cam had time on the regen unit, and Nick ended up being shaved bald. Marius had a real nice lump, and Tabitha’s shiner, well, she was real glad for her turn at the regen unit."

"I’ll bet," the storyteller muttered. "God, why didn’t ya’ll just give up and go home?"

"Doesn’t work that way, love. We had a job to do. Ya can’t just quit because a few things don’t go your way."

"I know, but my word...." Gwen lay there thoughtfully for a few minutes before speaking again, then her shoulders gently moved under Randi’s fingertips in laughter. "You’re right, though. It is pretty funny after the fact."

"Um hmm, but now you see why I holo camp. Sometimes predictability is a good thing."

"Stud, if I’d ever had an adventure like that, I would never have gone camping again."

"Well, not much choice there either, but fortunately, most of the time it was simply routine. Even those times when the unexpected happened, it usually didn’t happen to everyone all at once."

"Thank goodness."

"Hmm."

There was silence for a time after that, while Randi continued to tenderly massage the bard’s body. Gwen was in the twilight between sleeping and waking when a thought occurred to her. "What happened to Chase?"

The Sabre chuckled. "He was lucky. I guess the gods felt his having Jess’ bag was torture enough. He did a LOT of laundry while we were out. But those chocolates of hers sure came in handy. I think everyone felt better when he shared those around." The blue eyes shone in fond memory, and the hands slowly came to rest lightly on the blonde’s shoulders.

Gwen eased herself over, the warrior lifting slightly to allow the smaller woman to lie flat on her back. The bard smiled when Randi resettled herself lightly across her slim hips and let her hands rest on Gwen’s belly. "What was the craziest thing you ever did as a kid?"

Twin dark brows shot into the equally dark hairline. "What brought that on?"

"You are just so military... such a rule follower." She didn’t get to say anything else, as the Marine burst into hysterical laughter, and slipped to the ground in a boneless heap. Gwen moved to perch on the warrior’s rocking abdomen, making random patterns that were at the same time soothing, stimulating and ticklish.

"AUGH! Stop that! Gweeeennn!!!!" Randi couldn’t help the squeal she emitted when the bard’s hands hit a particularly sensitive spot. The warrior clamped her lips together, and with a show of sheer determination sat up and grasped Gwen’s hands. The shift in positions put the storyteller firmly in Randi’s lap, and the Marine had no trouble holding on to the small hands while she stole a sweet kiss from the bard’s lips.

Gwen managed to loosen her hands from Randi’s grip and then twine in the raven tresses. The warrior didn’t complain since her now free hands wrapped around the slim waist. The long, leisurely exploration went on, until Randi slowly pulled back and rested her forehead on Gwen’s. "That was nice."

"Um hmm," the blonde agreed, "but what was so funny?" She started shaking again as Randi convulsed in laughter once more.

"I’m sorry, Little One," she said once she could draw a deep breath. "The Sabres were NEVER rule followers. We had our code, but for the most part, we did whatever it took to get the job done." She thought for a moment. "I don’t know that I could come up with a *single* crazy stunt from my childhood. To hear my mother tell it, I was always into something. I do remember one time, though when I was about ten years old...."

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

"I will too," the gangly dark haired child muttered to herself as she walked down the dirt path. "If Tommy can do it, then so can I." She swung the stick she was carrying in a vicious arc. "Papa can’t stop me. I will ride those rapids."

The Valiants and the Steeles had decided to observe the Celebration holiday with a long weekend at a rustic lodge quite some distance from home. Most of the activities offered were outdoors, and not things they could find in the flats where they lived.

Tommy had fallen in with a group of kids his own age, and with him just entering puberty, Randi felt distinctly left out. She’d tried to understand, but having Papa tell her that Tommy needed to be with kids his own age, and do things she just couldn’t do had made her very angry. So she’d made up her mind to show them all.

She knew where the big kids had gone, and now she made her way down the steep slope, careful not to do damage to the colorful flora along the banks of the river. She stood transfixed for a

long moment, staring at the rapidly swirling water, then thrust out a determined chin, and went in search of a rig.

The group of kids Tommy was with had pulled to the banks to rest and eat a bit of lunch before preceding down the roughest, final part of the river. They were talking, teasing back and forth good-naturedly when a shout went up from one of the girls in the group. Eyes wide, she simply stared and pointed. "Shit!" Tommy cursed when he recognized the dark head paddling hard and holding on to

the oar for dear life.

He jumped into his rig, and noted gratefully that several of the others did the same. Randi hadn’t uttered a sound. Her concentration was entirely focused on the white water churning around her. In the peripheral part of her mind, she realized she had company in the water, but it wasn’t a conscious concern. Her entire world had narrowed to the vicious water she was swiftly approaching.

She hit the first eddy, and was nearly tossed from the craft. The next wave drenched her, and she went into a spin. The spin nearly cost her dearly, as she almost lost control of the rig. She grit her teeth, and brought the rig under control again, just in time to hit the last, and ugliest of the swirling eddies. The tiny boat tilted, and she threw herself to the opposite side to right it, then was forced to thrust her oar against a rock to redirect her motion. The force of the shove snapped the oar and Randi was now forced to hang on and hope.

Fortunately, she was through the worst of it, and Tommy and his friends were right behind her. They guided her craft to the bank, and everyone stared at one another for a long, silent moment, then Tommy lifted Randi up in his arms, while the rest of the group whooped and cheered.

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

"Papa didn’t know whether to be furious or proud when he found out what I’d done. Mama was scared after the fact. But for the rest of our vacation, I was hanging out with the big kids."

Gwen had to smile fondly at the smugly pleased expression on Randi’s face. "It was worth it then." A statement, not a question.

"It absolutely scared the piss out of me, and if I’d actually thought about it... if I had known how really dangerous that was, I might not have done it." Randi paused, and a rakish grin covered her face. "But yeah, it was totally worth it." The warrior slid her hands underneath the material and rubbed the soft skin of the bard’s back. Gwen mewed softly, and curled her body more inwardly towards Randi’s. The Marine was content to listen to the quiet sounds of happiness emerging from the bard’s lips. Peace reigned in the cabin.

Randi passed her lips over the blonde hair, and the storyteller tilted her head up so she could look at her soulmate’s face. The Sabre looked down at the sleepy green eyes filled with adoration and love for her alone, and knew hers reflected the same by the slight but perceptible widening of Gwen’s eyes she saw. It caused a smile to crease her face, and got her an answering one from the bard.

"So, what was the craziest thing you did as a kid?"

"I ran away from home," came the prompt answer, as though Gwen had been waiting for the question.

Dark eyes skyrocketed into an equally dark hairline, and the blur eyes widened into round saucers. "Um, excuse me?"

"I ran away from home," the bard repeated slowly.

"I heard what you said. I even understood what you said, as far as the words go at any rate. You wanna tell me the story?"

"I tell ya what... let’s clean up the few dishes, and crawl in bed."

"But my marshmallows?" It was almost a whine, and Gwen had to bite her lips to keep from laughing out loud.

"Well you can have your marshmallows while I clean up. It won’t take but a minute." She started to rise, but was held in place by strong, sure hands.

"I’ll help you and then...." the Marine whispered into the small pink ear right at lip level. Gwen laughed out loud in delight.

"Oh you’re on, Stud. And I’ll tell you tale of my life as a runaway... all six hours of it."

Randi looked intrigued, but wisely didn’t ask. Instead she rose, lifting the bard with her as she stood, and carried them both to the kitchen area. Laughing when she had to turn them back around to pick up their plates before returning to the kitchen.